#kim will think about it at bedtime | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ctrlhope · 8 months ago

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Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire.

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway.

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums.

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is.

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass.

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath.

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god.

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety.

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of.

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper.

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed.

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor.

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene.

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath.

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on.

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced.

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain.

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time.

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe.

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that.

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should.

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind.

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face.

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again.

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want?

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you.

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action.

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone.

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful.

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again.

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before.

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height.

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive.

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way.

You think you dislike the feeling.

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart.

“I suppose so.”

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel.

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down.

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you.

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead.

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment.

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants.

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you.

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage.

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it.

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady.

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top.

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it.

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely.

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens.

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon.

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions.

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status.

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive.

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything.

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones.

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs.

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one.

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter.

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons.

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor.

You simply shake your own.

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again.

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is.

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation.

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace.

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks.

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.”

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?”

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design.

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world.

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.”

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before.

Ah. It all makes sense now.

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.”

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him.

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut.

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.”

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.”

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement.

“Good.”

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest.

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest.

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable.

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall.

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway.

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them.

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms.

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why.

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status.

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that.

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught.

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back.

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before.

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion.

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy.

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being.

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place.

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam.

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features.

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic.

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.”

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms.

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.”

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone.

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.”

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.”

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is.

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too.

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.”

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.”

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right.

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown.

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother.

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise.

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white.

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing.

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares.

If he does, he doesn’t show it.

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips.

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast.

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them.

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him.

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head.

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more.

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.”

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway.

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night.

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible.

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions.

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined.

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach.

Why did he know your name?

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in.

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages.

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby.

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort.

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else.

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath.

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne.

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that.

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths.

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position.

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door.

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster.

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears.

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen.

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess.

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away.

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading.

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!”

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before.

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls.

“And what am I meant to do?”

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!”

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart.

At least that is what you hope.

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents.

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month.

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible.

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid.

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake.

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend.

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered.

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–”

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own.

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own.

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people.

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain.

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance.

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible.

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire.

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems.

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.”

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales.

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body.

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction.

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer.

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would.

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–”

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.”

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut.

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear.

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone.

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge.

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else.

That is the only logical solution, at least.

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well.

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week.

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect.

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can.

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name.

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior.

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has.

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away.

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor.

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form.

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being.

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose.

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them.

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for.

You reach to spray your second favourite perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand.

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible.

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can.

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you. It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed.

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn.

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it.

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it.

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open.

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you.

The future king would be a fearsome thing.

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore.

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…”

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…”

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of.

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse.

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape.

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it.

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you.

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof.

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal.

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore.

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?”

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room.

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt?

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country?

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft.

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft.

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever.

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.”

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment.

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh!

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?”

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable.

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before.

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine.

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you.

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.”

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day.

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own.

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself.

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.”

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?!

Oh heavens, oh gods.

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be!

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place.

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long.

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating.

“What…?”

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.”

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again.

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order.

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him.

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare.

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory.

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do.

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it.

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core.

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.”

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest.

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself.

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen.

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–”

“Taehyung.”

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth.

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well.

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly.

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more.

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours.

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own.

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it.

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body.

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse.

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince.

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste.

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own.

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him.

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him.

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well.

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever.

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.”

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him.

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.”

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god.

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left.

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort.

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core.

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal.

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being.

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else.

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting.

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige.

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him.

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you.

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth.

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal.

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything.

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life.

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible.

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting.

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit.

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt.

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact.

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering.

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue.

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him.

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high.

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle.

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form.

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled.

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them.

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt.

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place.

He will not have you running away.

Not now.

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters.

He is.

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows.

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels.

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality.

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good.

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through.

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want.

“Please.”

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you.

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for.

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it.

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity.

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes.

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more.

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk.

So sensitive. So ready for him.

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet.

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck.

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls.

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take.

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock.

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort.

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there.

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity.

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more.

He is falling apart before you, because of you.

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.”

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs.

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.”

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly.

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused.

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop.

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.”

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him.

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit.

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.”

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him.

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul.

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him.

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!”

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more.

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body.

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!”

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter.

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?”

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by.

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him.

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel.

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore.

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck.

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment.

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.”

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe.

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide.

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise.

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing.

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body.

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright.

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already.

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire.

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you.

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases.

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games.

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it.

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night.

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you.

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time.

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him.

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth.

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

4K notes · View notes

blueskrugs · 6 months ago

Text

'tis the damn season | Matthew Tkachuk

today's the unofficial official start to summer, so here's a 4th of July Matty fic I couldn't bear to hold on to for another month. once upon a time, kim @troubatrain wrote another matthew fic by the same title, but i'm fairly confident this is entirely different. as usual, @wyattjohnston was my enabler in writing this.

length: 3.0k words

It’s late when you finally peel yourself off the Adirondack chair you claimed hours ago next to the bonfire, empty seltzer can dangling from your fingertips. The bonfire has died off, barely more than some embers and the occasional spark. Even the fireworks that have been echoing around the lake for days have petered out. It’s just you, Matthew and Taryn left outside, all your other friends having wandered off to find somewhere to sleep—except you think Taryn might have also fallen asleep, wrapped up in one of Matthew’s old Calgary sweatshirts and a beach towel.

Matthew watches you with heavy eyes, watches as you stretch sleepily and the big T-shirt you’d thrown on over your swimsuit rides up over your hips.

“Don’t drive home,” Matthew says, so low you barely hear him.

“What?” you ask. You’re not heading back to the city until after the long weekend is over, and your parents’ lake house is just a couple of miles away.

“Don’t leave, there’s a lot of drunk idiots out still,” he says again, standing too. You and your friends were some of those drunk idiots earlier in the day, but you don’t point that out.

“Dude, I’m fine,” you tell Matthew. You turn to look for your flip-flops. “It’s not far, and I stopped drinking a while ago.”

Matthew grabs you by the hip. The night has cooled off, but Matthew’s hand feels hot on your skin. “I’m not worried about you being stupid, I’m worried about something happening to you,” Matthew says. “Don’t go.”

You didn’t pack enough clothes to spend the night—you’d always been planning on heading back to your parents’ at the end of the night. The house was crowded with friends of Matthew and Taryn.

“There’s nowhere left for me to sleep,” is what you end up saying.

Matthew tightens his grip. You step closer. “Sleep in my bed.”

You’d done it before, but not since before Matthew had moved to Michigan to play for the USNTDP. Not since before your crush on Matthew had shifted from something childish to something more like pining. You stare up at him, his blue eyes serious, clear even in the moonlight.

One of the logs on the dying bonfire pops and shifts, sending out a spray of sparks. You both startle, moment broken. Matthew takes a half-step back from you. You hadn’t realized how far you’d both leaned in. Taryn stirs somewhere behind you.

“Fine,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.”

Matthew grins at you. You shake your head at him as you finally turn to walk inside.

You think you hear Taryn murmur, “Get a room,” as you pass her.

The lake house is a mess. You survey it with dismay for a moment: there’s people passed out on several different couches, empty cans and bottles scattered across most surfaces, and remnants of dinner still sitting out in the kitchen. You drop your own empty can into the recycling near the door and wander quietly through the first floor, picking up what you can. You haven’t been at it very long when Matthew steps inside as well, gently shutting the door behind him. He clicks his tongue at you when he spots you in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

“I thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.

“I got distracted,” you whisper back.

Matthew trails his fingertips across your side as he steps past you to open the fridge. You shiver, and not because the AC is turned down low. Matthew pulls two bottles of Gatorade out, offers one to you.

You take it, suddenly surprised at how thirsty you are.

Matthew watches in amusement for a moment as you chug a third of the bottle, before he says, “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”

“It’s not that late—” you try to protest, before you catch a glimpse of the time on the microwave clock. Almost 2 AM. “Oops,” you say instead.

Matthew flicks off the kitchen light and heads upstairs.

You make a pit stop in Taryn’s room on your way down the hall to Matthew’s room. The door creaks as you open it, and you wince, squinting at the bed, where three of Taryn’s field hockey teammates are sleeping. No one moves. You steal a pair of shorts to sleep in and sneak back out.

Matthew is waiting for you, again, perched on the edge of his bed. The shower in his ensuite is running, steam filtering through the ajar door. “Shower’s ready for you, if you want,” he says.

There’s a bottle of your face wash and a toothbrush with your initials Sharpied onto the handle underneath his sink, the same way they have been since you were 14. You take a fast shower and try not to think too much about it.

You run into Matthew when you walk out of the bathroom. Literally. You're bumped backwards, into the doorjamb. Matthew doesn’t step away. You’re still wearing one of his T-shirts.

“I was just—I need—” Matthew stutters.

“Matty—” you breathe, before Matthew’s lips crash into yours. He tastes like beer and sunscreen, and you wrap your hands around the back of his neck so you can pull him closer.

Matthew breaks the kiss first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours.

“I was just going to brush my teeth,” Matthew whispers.

You make a face instead of kissing Matthew again. His face is still so close to yours.

“Good, you need it,” you whisper back. Matthew rolls his eyes at you, presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking into the bathroom.

You’re sprawled out in the center of Matthew’s bed when he re-emerges, watching the ceiling fan turn lazily above you. You feel drunk, like the room’s spinning, too, but you think that might just be proximity to Matthew. You should have just found a couch or a corner of floor to sleep on.

“No way,” Matthew says, standing at the foot of the bed. “Scoot over.”

You think about pushing it, just to see if Matthew would push back, but you scoot over. Matthew flops onto the bed next to you in the space you just left, then rolls on top of you, anyway, braced with his hands next to your head.

You take a second to just look at him. You’ve been sneaking glances all day, over the rim of a seltzer can, from underneath your sunglasses, across the boat. It had felt illicit then, but now Matthew is right in front of you, blue eyes meeting yours. His curls are getting long, messy from being in and out of the lake water all day. He’s always tan now—living in Florida all winter does that—but he’s sunburned across his nose and across the tops of shoulders. You lift one hand and skim a finger down his nose, across his jaw.

“I miss you,” you blurt. It’s not what you had meant to say, but now that you’ve said it, you’re not sure what else there is to say.

Matthew laughs softly. “I’m right here, babe,” he says.

He’s here now, but it won’t be long until summer’s over, and he’ll be gone again. Back to the real world. You don’t know the last time you and Matthew were able to spend time together like this, don’t know if you’ll ever get this time again. It’s always been one thing after another—injuries, or vacations, or work. You don't talk the way you used to, either. Matthew's schedule clashes with yours so often that neither of you have time for hours-long phone calls anymore.

Matthew drops to an elbow and brushes your hair out of your face. You try not to sigh. His hand is on your knee next, by his ribs with your feet flat on the bed. You don’t stop him as his hand starts to slide up your thigh, closer to the hem of his T-shirt, riding up your hips again.

Matthew drags a line of kisses down your neck. You can’t stop your sigh this time. Matthew comes up for air, tucks another strand of hair behind your ear. It’s humid outside and in Matthew’s bed; you can’t breathe, gasp for air. His hand is back on your hip, burning hot on your skin.

He asks, “Yeah?”

You can feel his breath on your cheek. He’s panting, too, and it’s nice to know that he’s as wrapped up in this as you are, at least for this moment. That he might want you almost as bad as you want him. That he’s wanted you as long as you’ve wanted him.

You don’t trust yourself to get any words out, just nod.

“Think you can stay quiet?” Matthew says, before sealing his lips on yours again.

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You wake up late the next morning, the ghost of Matthew’s fingers still on your skin. He’s in bed, too, tangled in the sheets, head turned away from you. Distantly, you hear the sounds of the rest of the house stirring, your friends laughing, coffee brewing. You don’t make any move to get up.

You’re still laying there later��15 minutes, 30 minutes, you’re not sure—when Matthew starts to stir. He rolls over quickly, almost panicked, but he relaxes and smiles when he sees you still lying next to him.

“Hi,” he says dumbly. He fumbles for his phone, but it’s not beside him. “What time is it?” His words and eyes are still heavy with sleep.

You don't know either; you must have left your phone downstairs last night;. You shrug and stretch. Matthew watches you closely, the way your body moves beneath the sheets. You feel your cheeks flush.

“Dunno,” you say. Closer to noon than early morning, if you had to guess by the way the light is slanting through the partially closed blinds. “Late,” you add.

Matthew grins at you and props himself up on one elbow. You have to resist the urge to reach up and tug on his curls, even messier now from your hands and sleep.

“Then I don’t think anyone will miss us if we stay in bed a little longer,” he says, leaning over to kiss you.

You indulge him and his morning breath for a few moments. Wrapped up in your own little bubble, twisted together in Matthew’s sheets, you can pretend just a little longer—that this is real, that it won’t disappear the second you step through that doorway and back into a world where other people and other obligations exist. But then your stomach rumbles and shatters your illusion.

You push Matthew away by the shoulders—gently, though part of you wants to be harsh with him, hurt him the way you know he’s going to break your heart. Matthew goes easily, but you see the flash of furrowed brow before he smooths his expression back into something easygoing.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” you say, “but I need something to eat.”

Matthew raises his eyebrows at you. “I’ve got an idea of what I want to eat,” he leers.

You knee him in the chest in retaliation.

“Oof,” Matthew complains, but he’s laughing.

He rolls off of you, rubbing his chest and pouting at you. You just roll your eyes and slide out of bed. You hunt the floor for the shorts you’d been wearing when you went to bed, trying to ignore the way you can feel Matthew staring at your ass. Your shorts ended up across the room, by the bathroom door. When you turn around again, Matthew is pulling on a shirt. There’s a hickey on his collarbone that you hazily remember leaving there. He sees you looking as his bare skin disappears and smirks at you before throwing another clean shirt of his at your face.

You grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, but say, “Turn around.”

Matthew gapes at you. “It’s nothing I didn’t see last night,” he tells you.

It feels different in the daylight, though. You stare Matthew down until he heaves a sigh and turns his back.

You poke Matthew in the ribs when you’ve finished changing. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Matthew gave you a shirt with his number stamped on the left shoulder to wear. Matthew reaches to take your hand as you start down the stairs, but you pull away and run ahead of him.

This isn’t like that.

“Oh, you’re both alive,” Taryn calls when she sees you. “We were thinking about sending someone up to check on you.”

You and Matthew exchange a look. You don’t miss Taryn smirking from her spot on the couch.

“Where is everybody?” Matthew says, instead of saying anything to give Taryn any more ammunition. The house has quieted down. There’s still a few of Taryn’s teammates lounging around, but it looks like more of Matthew’s friends have cleared out.

“Weather’s shitty, people started leaving after breakfast,” she says.

Outside the windows that overlook the lake, there’s fog clinging to the water. It looks chilly out, and you shiver. You tell yourself it’s because of the cold, and not because Matthew is standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat. He nudges your elbow, and he’s holding a cup of coffee out to you, already the perfect color for you to drink it. You shoot him a grateful smile as you take it; your fingers brush, and you try not to jerk your hand away.

“Nobody even said good-bye,” Matthew gripes.

You laugh, but it’s Taryn who says: “Maybe because you’re a shit host.”

Matthew gasps in outrage and throws a discarded can koozie at her. It falls weakly to the floor halfway to the couch, and all of you burst out laughing. You and Matthew move easily around each other in the kitchen, piecing together leftovers and assembling your breakfasts. It sends a pang through your chest, the familiarity of it, even as the years and distance build a canyon between your relationship. You don’t know when Matthew went from being your best friend, to the boy you dreamed of marrying one day, to the guy you knew so well yet barely knew at all.

You feel like you can’t breathe.

“That’s disgusting,” you say, watching Matthew take a bite out of a cold bratwurst straight from the fridge.

Matthew shrugs. “What?” he says with his mouth full. “It’s a sausage, people eat sausage for breakfast all the time!”

“But not—oh, fuck you, never mind,” you say.

You escape the kitchen, slipping through the back door to the porch. The bonfire from last night has long since burned out entirely, but you drop into one of the chairs beside it anyway, where you eat your breakfast undisturbed. When your plate is cleared, you wander down to the dock.

The late morning sun has finally started to burn away the fog, but the air is still cool. You sit down on the edge of the dock and let your feet dangle in the water. It’s quiet, especially for the day after the holiday; the weather has scared people indoors. You shiver again. You only have a few minutes of peace before you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that they belong to Matthew.

He drops down onto the dock behind you, drapes his legs off the edge on either side of yours. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you let yourself lean back into his chest. Neither of you speak.

You’d been here once before, sitting on this dock with Matthew. You were younger then. Matthew had just been drafted, and you were heading off to college. You’d both been on the verge of something big, and you thought maybe it had been your chance to do big things, together. You wonder if Matthew is thinking of that night, too, of the silence in the darkness of midnight, when you’d both slipped away.

Matthew presses his lips to your shoulder, where the collar of your shirt—his shirt—has slid down and exposes your bare skin.

“Would you wait for me?” you asked, 18 years old and so, so scared of losing everything you had ever known. Desperately trying to hold onto Matthew.

“Would you?” he asked back. “Would you still be ready for me in another few years?” You both knew you couldn’t even imagine following Matthew to Calgary until you had graduated, unwilling to sacrifice your own future for a possible one with Matthew.

You had waited. You had been waiting for Matthew for even longer than you were willing to admit. Even when you were in other relationships, you felt like you were just waiting for something else. For someone else. You wondered now what your life would look like if you had said yes to Matthew on the dark dock all those summers ago, if you’d waited for each other. You couldn’t wait any longer.

“You could stay for a few more days,” Matthew says.

“You know I can’t,” you say. You reach back so you can run your hand through his hair. One last time. “Think we could do this again sometime?” Matthew asks. “You know we can’t,” you say. Matthew sighs. You can feel the tension in his body. He’s ready for a fight, but you don’t know if you have the energy for it. You lean more of your weight against him, and he holds you up, strong and steady.

Matthew takes a moment before he responds. “We could,” he argues. “We could do this forever.” Your heart hurts. You know he doesn't mean it.

“Matthew,” you say, quietly. “Matthew, please.” “Why not?” he asks. “We’re good together, aren’t we?”

You are, and you wish you didn’t know just how good it could be between you. In your head, you see all the things you could have, all the things you should have done. It’s so, so tempting.

“I think we both know why we didn’t try ‘us’ when we were 18, Matty,” you tell him. The petty arguments, the way you were both so stubborn that hanging out ended in slamming doors just as often as it didn't. You always came back, but you don't know if you can do it much longer.

You move to leave, and Matthew slides back to allow it. You let him offer you a hand as you stand up. Matthew squeezes your hand once, quickly, just before you let go. You leave him sitting on the dock. You don’t look back as you make your way back up to the house.

Some things are best left in the past.

#cait writes things #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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author-ssi · 2 months ago

Text

Daddy ~KNJ

➜Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

➜Genre: Smut, (Slight) Fluff (in the beginning), One-Shot

Warnings: MAJOR Daddy kink (in case, it wasn't clear already from the title), reader is basically drooling over DILF Namjoon, age gap (Namjoon in his 30s, reader in her 20s), breast play&fingering&praise (Namjoon is an absolute service dom - don't even try to change my mind!), vaginal sex (reader rides Namjoon) [18+ MDNI]

➜Word Count: 3.7k

➜Summary: Namjoon had been searching for someone to care for his son for months and months, to no avail. Until the moment he saw you crouched on the ground, helping his son tie his shoelaces with a smile so pretty on your face. That's when he knew you'd be perfect for him... and, for his son too.

"Seungmin-ah, it's time to go to bed! Come on, sweetie".

If you were keeping count -which you were- that'd be your 5th attempt to usher the cheeky three-year-old over to his room.

"But Koya doesn't want to sleep yet... Look, he is full of energy!".

Seungmin swings the plushie around, almost hitting you in the face with it. You let out a huffed chuckle glancing at the clock on the wall.

It's almost 9 o'clock and he's the one who's full of energy...

You'd expect that after running around and playing with him all afternoon long, by the time his bedtime came, he'd be sleeping like a log.

"I'll tell you and Koya a fairytale so you both can go to sleep".

You pick him up and sit on his bed, laying him down and pulling the blanket over him.

Thankfully, he settles down, cuddling his Koya, close to him.

Taking the book of fairytales from the bed table, you flip over to the page of his favourite, Kongjwi and Patjwi.

... Or as you prefer to call it Korean Cinderella with a twist.

Seungmin claps his little hands excitedly, burying himself further inside his blanket, focusing his attention solely on your words.

Reaching out to offer him an affectionate pat on the head, you begin to recite the fairytale, smiling fondly at the thought of how much your life has changed ever since you got the job of babysitting this adorable little toddler.

~Four Months Ago~

Judging from how hard it had been for you to get an apartment in NYC, you were already prepared to face the same difficulty in finding yourself a job.

Little did you know, it'd be as easy as taking a walk in the park.

Literally!

Walking in the park, that one cloudy afternoon, was all it took for you to run into little Seungmin and his dad.

And oh, his dad...

Mr. Kim Namjoon.

A Korean-American.

CEO of a public education company.

Single father to Kim Seungmin, after his wife left him a year ago and ran off to Europe with another man.

Honestly, who in their right mind would even think about leaving this man for another?!

You still remember how in awe you were upon seeing him...

His tall frame towered over you and his son as he stood above you, clad in a black turtleneck that perfectly highlighted his muscled chest and wide shoulders.

His face bore youthful features and yet his eyes brought out a sense of wisdom and maturity.

The polite smile he wore, not only betrayed the dimple that appeared on his cheek but his refined manners too, as he offered you a hand to help you stand back up.

Looking up at his entrancing eyes, you accepted his hand and slowly rose to your feet.

"Daddy, look!".

The little toddler's voice finally enabled you to tear your gaze away from his father.

Seungmin pointed at his small feet, with a bright smile on his face.

His father furrowed his eyebrows puzzled, which rushed you to explain.

"His, uh, his shoelaces were untied and he was running around...

So I thought I'd tie them for him!

You know, so he wouldn't get hurt-"

"Thank you for doing that".

The man offered your hand a small squeeze in gratitude, before finally introducing himself.

You hadn't even noticed he was still holding your hand!

Hastily returning the handshake, you forced yourself to withdraw your hand introducing yourself as well.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kim".

It felt proper to address him like that, since he seemed to be quite older than you...

Mr Kim slightly cleared his throat and offered you a small nod before turning to his son.

"Why don't you tell the pretty lady who helped you, your name as well, hm?".

You sucked in a breath and bit your lip in a desperate attempt to hide how much that affected you; a man as handsome as him addressing you as pretty.

Thankfully, the cute toddler in front of you was the perfect way to get your mind off of it as he raised his hand towards you.

"Hi, I am Seungmin!".

You noticed he was offering his hand for you to shake, just like he had seen you do with his father.

"Hi, Seungmin!

It's nice to meet you, I'm Y/N".

You resisted the urge to swoon at the sight of his small hand enveloped in your own.

So cute!

"And what else do you need to say to Y/N?".

"Thank you".

You shook yourself insisting it was nothing and adjusted your back on your shoulder, mentally preparing yourself to bid farewell to the two of them.

"Let me buy you a drink, Y/N; as thanks for helping Seungmin".

Your eyes widened at Mr Kim's unexpected suggestion.

"Oh no, you don't need to do that-".

"I insist".

Well, how could you refuse when he looked at you like that?!

And so, you ended up playing with Seungmin at the playground, while Mr Kim went to get the both of you something to drink.

You were pushing Seungmin on the swings when Mr Kim returned with a hot latte in each hand, offering one for you to drink.

Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a bench with probably the most attractive man you'll ever get the chance to lay your eyes on, drinking your latte and watching over his son continuing to play at the playground.

"Thanks again for helping Seungmin out.

I was too busy talking on the phone...

I should have been keeping an eye on him but work is just-".

He groans in frustration, before letting out a long sigh and turning to you.

"Never mind that now, tell me about you".

You purse your lips in thought, rummaging through your brain in an attempt to find something about you that's interesting enough to share with someone like Mr Kim.

"I'm just a girl, trying to survive college while looking for a job".

You shrug before taking another sip of your latte.

Meanwhile, the moment those words left your mouth, Mr Kim turned to face you with a knowing smile.

"Well, that's a happy coincidence".

And that's when you were offered the job of babysitting Mr Kim's son. And even though, you truly loved looking after little Seungmin, you couldn't help being even more thrilled by the prospect of spending even just a little time around a man like Mr. Kim.

~Present Day~

"And so, the new Mayor married Kongjwi, the owner of the shoe.

Now, you'd think that they got to live happily ever after…

But that's not the end of this story!

Jealous of Kongjwi's happiness, her stepsister Patjwi drowns poor Kongjwi in the stream.

Patjwi then disguises herself as Kongjwi and starts living at the palace as the mayor’s wife.

However, one day Kongjwi appears in her husband's dream and tells him about her tragic fate.

The mayor is shocked to learn this and starts desperately searching for his wife's body.

After months and months of endlessly searching, he manages to discover Kongjwi's body in the stream.

He cries cradling his wife's body close to him before leaning over to offer her a kiss farewell.

Yet, with that kiss, Kongjwi is brought back to life.

Once they both return to the town, the Mayor puts Patjwi and her mother in a dark prison and that's when he and Kongjwi finally live...

Happily ever after!".

You huff merrily closing the book and putting it back to its place before turning to Seungmin.

Alas, the story didn't seem to bring the toddler the drowsiness you'd thought it would, so you decide to simply leave him to play around in his bed hoping that at some point he'll tire himself enough to sleep.

You take the baby monitor with you and walk out of the bedroom, trying hard not to laugh at the kid scolding his plushie for not going to sleep.

Heading over to the kitchen, you start making yourself a warm cup of tea.

After carefully, pouring yourself a cup, you settle on the living room's couch and check the baby monitor sighing in relief when you see that little Seungmin has finally fallen asleep.

As you take a sip of your tea, you open your phone to check your Instagram for any messages.

After replying to your bestie's "where are you?" with a simple "babysitting", you quickly engage in conversation with her since the both of you have nothing better to do right now.

Soon, her texting gives way to an incoming call, which you're more than happy to answer.

Time goes by without you taking notice until you realise that you've finished your tea.

Abandoning your snuggling on the couch, you walk back to the kitchen in order to wash the used kettle and mug, having put the phone on speaker and placed it on the table behind you so as not to get water spilt on it.

"So... Is the Daddy hot?".

You roll your eyes at her sudden, crude question with a slight scoff.

She was never the kind to hold back on those types of conversations and thirsty comments, yet this time you decide to humour her and just play along.

"Well...

Let's just say, I wouldn't mind calling him Daddy too".

You hum cheekily and your best friend gasps.

"That much huh?".

"Oh trust me... He's a Dilf ".

You bite your lip, slightly embarrassed by yourself calling him that.

Your best friend lets out a hum and you're certain she also has a teasing smirk on her face.

"Hmm, no wonder you were so thrilled over a babysitting job".

You shake your head chuckling, as you stretch your body to put the kettle back in its place on the top shelf, before starting to wash your mug next.

"No no, I really love looking after his son. Seungmin's the sweetest!

Having Mr Kim around is just..."

"A bonus".

She finishes your sentence for you, giggling.

"But really, why don't you shoot your shot?

You know, flirt with him, show off your boobies".

Her saucy tone makes you roll your eyes.

"I'm not showing off my boobs to my boss!".

"You were the one who wanted him to be your Daddy...

Anyway, what I'm saying is-".

Waiting a moment or two for her to continue, you place the clean mug in its place.

When she doesn't, you assume that the signal must have been cut off so you wipe your wet hands on a towel before turning around to grab your phone and call her back.

Oh.My.God!

Your eyes almost pop out of your skull and your body freezes on the spot at the sight of none other than Mr. Kim himself leaning against the table where your phone is placed, his hand hovering over its screen.

"M-Mr. Kim! I-I didn't realise you were back home!".

You stumble over your words, feeling your cheeks burn red from the embarrassment.

The only thing that's left for you to do now is hope that he probably hasn't been home long enough to hear the entire conversation, or else you're most definitely fired.

Mr Kim smirks, the amusement clear on his face.

"I thought you'd prefer calling me Daddy".

You gasp, wishing for the earth to open up and swallow you whole right now.

He heard everything right from the start...

Well, there goes your job!

"I-I... It's not what I meant-! I was just, uh, joking! I-!"

You know your attempts at justifying yourself are futile.

You know that there's nothing redeemable you can say for yourself.

But you don't want to lose this job!

Yes, you need the money too but spending all that time with Mr Kim and Seungmin...

You can't bear the thought of never getting to see them again!

"Y/N..."

Your staggered breath catches in your throat once you realise how close to you Mr Kim has gotten.

He has placed his hands on either side of the kitchen counter, trapping you between them.

"Mr Kim-".

You look up at him in question, only to get lost in his eyes.

His large palm comes to caress your cheek, his thumb slightly stroking the soft skin.

"Mr Kim".

A low groan rumbles in his throat as he presses his mouth against yours, more fiercely.

You utter again, before his lips suddenly connect with your own and your mind goes blank.

"Do you know how much I had to hold myself back whenever you called me that?".

You let out a small gasp when you feel his other hand start to fondle your breast.

A wanton cry slips past your lips when his fingers brush over your pebbled nipple.

"Do you know how many times I wished you showed these off to me, and me only?".

His words barely register, you mind still remaining blank from the unforeseen pleasure.

You latch your hands onto his wide shoulders as he lifts you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and having you sit on the kitchen counter.

"Do you know how long I wanted to hear you call me Daddy?".

His hand pushes your hair back, revealing your neck for him to bury his face into, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your warm skin.

You slightly throw your head back, your mouth parting in pleasure, while your hands run through his dark hair.

Both of his hands slowly start kneading your breasts as he lifts his lips from your neck, drawing them close to your ear.

"Go on baby, say it...

Let me hear that pretty voice of yours call me Daddy".

Your brain short-circuits at his words.

You honestly can't fully process what's happening right now.

Yet the words leave your mouth with no hesitation.

"Daddy".

It's as if a switch flipped in Namjoon's mind.

"Oh yes, that's it, baby".

He growls, quickly discarding your blouse and bra off of your body before leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

You mewl as he starts to suck on it and your legs press against his hips, urging him to touch you where you need him most.

"Daddy, please".

He lets your nipple out of his mouth with a 'pop' and he stands up straight, slightly towering over you.

His hand disappears inside your pants, touching you over your panties as he looks down at you, his eyes clouded with desire.

"Is that what you want Daddy to do, baby?

Rub your pussy for you".

You pant closing your eyes as you nod at him urgently.

"Words, baby... I need to hear you say it".

"Yes, Daddy please rub my pussy".

And that's exactly what he does...

And he does it so well...

"Eyes on me, baby".

His deep voice coaxes you to open your eyes and gaze upon him.

Namjoon marvels at the sight of you, panting and trembling in pleasure but it's not nearly enough to satisfy his need for you.

He needs to see you come undone now, just by his fingers.

Gingerly pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips before he inserts two of his long fingers inside you.

"Oh, D-Daddy!".

You let out a gasp, feeling yourself already full with just two of his fingers.

The thought of what it would feel like to have his cock enter you next, sends shivers down your spine.

His other hand rests on your hip and when he begins to move his fingers slowly in and out of your wet slit, Namjoon holds your body still as you can't help but squirm from the building pleasure.

"Now baby, I want you to focus on my voice".

You don't get the chance to respond to his words.

A breathy moan rips past your lips, your nails desperately digging into his back when you feel him curling his fingers inside you.

Namjoon lets out a pleased hum before he leans over to huskily whisper in your ear.

"I'll start counting and once I reach seven, you're going to let go and cum for your Daddy, like the good little girl you are".

"One...".

His fingers start to pick up speed, while he continues to move them in and out of you.

"Two...".

His other hand starts roughly groping your breast again, making you whine softly.

"Three... Four...".

His fingers curl intensely inside you, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your whole body.

"Five... Six"

"Daddy, I'm going to-!"

"...Seven".

You let go.

A sweet, little cry resonates in the kitchen when you cum on his fingers, but Namjoon keeps moving them, steadily letting you ride out your orgasm.

Once your body relaxes, you let yourself lean towards him resting your head on his chest with a small hum.

Embarrassment threatens to creep up on you as the gravity of the situation comes down on you.

And yet, when your mind runs back to Namjoon's previous words and touches, you instantly admit to yourself that there's no going back for you now.

You want him.

Namjoon grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him.

He relishes your blissed-out expression and smirks when he detects the insatiable desire still reflected in your eyes.

"Tell me what you want, baby".

His deep voice tears up all your remaining inhibitions.

"You, I want you inside me Daddy".

You run your palm through his clothed chest before starting to unbutton his shirt.

Namjoon lets out a low chuckle, shrugging his suit jacket off of his shoulders.

"Such a good girl, using her words for me".

He swiftly lifts your body off of the kitchen counter and carries you over to the living room.

Your legs stay wrapped around his waist as you finally remove his shirt off of him.

Having his strong arms hold you like this, your sole focus remains on discarding his clothes.

Licking your lips at the sight of his well-built body, you let your hands wander all over it, mapping out his chest, his waist and his shoulders.

Namjoon sighs in satisfaction, before carefully placing you back on the ground, leaving you to stand in front of him topless.

He slowly takes a sit at the edge of the couch behind him and his hands reach out, pulling down your pants and undergarments for you.

Soft moans release from your lips, as he starts to ravish every part of your body with wet kisses and sensual touches.

"Daddy".

You whine, your knees slightly quivering from his heated affection.

"I know baby, Daddy will give you what you want...

Just wanted to take a moment and cherish that beautiful body of yours".

He mutters glancing up at you with lust-filled eyes.

He raises his hips slightly, taking off both of his pants and boxers with one swift movement before leaning back on the couch, resting his arms on the back of it.

One of his fingers points to his lap and your gaze zeroes in on his erected length.

"Go ahead baby, I'm all yours".

You gulp, hesitating for a mere moment before your neediness overcomes you, urging your body to move on top of him.

His hands immediately find their way to your hips, holding onto them firmly to help guide you, as you slowly sink yourself down to his cock.

"Don't rush, we've got all the time in the world".

Namjoon's hushed whisper is soothing and it momentarily distracts you from the slightly painful stretch of his cock.

But the moment you bottom out, a pleasurable heat spreads through your entire body.

Your hips slightly stagger as you itch to start moving them against him but Namjoon's hands keep them still.

His face draws close to yours, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his hot breath mingling with your own.

When he pulls away, his forehead touches yours as he looks deep in your eyes.

"Now, give Daddy a good ride".

Your back arches when his hands roll your hips setting up a steady pace for you to follow.

Once he's made sure you're able to keep up on your own, his hands wrap around your waist hugging your body close to him.

The way he holds you is so erotic; it makes you melt in his arms, hugging him back and letting him relish your unrestrained moans while you ride him.

Namjoon lets you chase your orgasm, simply enjoying the feeling of having you so intimately close to him.

His fingers run down your spine eager to watch goosebumps appear all over your skin.

Yet what takes him by surprise is your walls fluttering around his cock as well.

Namjoon groans throwing his head back, pleasure painting over his expression.

The sight of him losing his composure because of you urges you to pick up the pace, bucking your hips faster against his.

"Oh baby, you make Daddy feel so good...

Come on, won't you cum again around Daddy's cock, like the good girl you are?".

"Ah y-yes Daddy, I-I'm gonna cum!".

His half-lidded eyes are focused on you and you only.

The intensity of his gaze is enough to send you over the edge.

You bite your lip, in an attempt to muffle the shriek that leaves your mouth before your orgasm finally washes over you.

The pleasure your second orgasm brings you is even more intense than your previous one...

So much so, that when the afterglow settles in, you can't help but let your body slump on top of Namjoon's.

Snuggling against his slightly heaving chest, you gather up the courage to look up at him bashfully.

"Um... Mr. Kim-".

Your call for him gets interrupted by his mouth claiming yours in yet another passionate kiss.

Kissing you roughly and deeply, he doesn't draw back until he leaves you breathless.

His fingers brush through your hair tenderly but the look in his eyes is strict and his tone is absolute when he whispers to you.

"I thought we'd already established that from now on, you're only addressing me as Daddy".

#bts #bts x reader #kim namjoon #rm #bts smut #bts namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x y/n #daddy k!nk #babysitter au

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icyg4l · 9 months ago

Text

Pick-A-Meme: How Can I Choose The Right Career Path for Me?

Choose the image that resonates the most with you. In this reading, I will give you details that you can use to get closer to accomplishing to your career goals. I will also give those clarity to those who are confused on where to go from here with the help of the True Heart tarot deck.

Left-to-Right (1-3): Raven Baxter, Brenda Meeks, Kim Parker.

Cards Used: 10 of Cups. The World (RX). Judgment. Knight of Cups. Wheel of Fortune. The Hierophant. 4 of Pents.

Pile 1A: I feel like this is for those who are thinking of going into the traditional career paths like being a nurse, a teacher, a lawyer or doctor. You are very determined when it comes to breaking into this career path. I feel like this is a dream that you’ve had for a long time, since you were a child. But you’ve grown up and you see just how practical this career path is or how much time it would take from all other aspects. Don’t let the money or the amount of time it takes to pursue this career stop you! There will be opportunities that come up for you as you pursue this path that will financially support you. I also see that you’ll receive some recognition early on in your career, for your contributions to this field.

Cards Used: The Moon. 3 of Pents (RX). Strength. Queen of Cups. Ace of Cups. The Hanged Man. Ace of Wands (RX). Queen of Pents. Ace of Swords.

Pile 1B: For those of you that are confused about what career path you should pursue, I say that you should consider some “niche” career paths; something that sticks out to YOU. This will ensure that you’re using your energy towards things that you love. I get the feeling that you’re tired of what you’re being presented with. These are the people that are tired of receiving rejection emails from employers or being ghosted by interviewers. I feel like you’re kind of nosy… perhaps you should consider a career as a private investigator. You have a sharp mind and you call bullshit when you see it. I also think that you should consider something to do with childcare, maybe take up the jobs that nobody wants to take up? If you’re into pets, you should take up the pet care. I feel like this is also the pile that should consider going to trade school to become an electrician or plumber. You would actually benefit from it & would meet some excellent people along the way. Everyone isn’t be a tech geek, a rapper or an aspiring designer and that’s absolutely fine! You got this!

extras: annalise keating. bedtime stories. human design. timestamp. first wives club. worker bees. social justice reform. politics. class action lawsuit. science geek.

Cards Used: The Emperor. 6 of Cups (RX). 2 of Pents. Ace of Wands. The Hierophant. 7 of Pents (RX).

Pile 2A: The people who chose this pile are currently fed up with their career path. I think that you have dedicated so much time to this career path that it has you burnt out. You may be considering switching career paths or adding a new element to your career path. You should! I thought of the storyline from ‘This is Us’ where Beth takes the risk to open up a dance studio after being fired from her job. Her original passion was ballet but her mother forced her into a practical career. She became an urban planner. She had the job for twelve years and loved it but she unfortunately got laid off. I feel like this collective has some resentment towards their career because it’s not what you want to do. What do you really want to do? Examine what really makes you light up. If you decide that you want to have a side gig doing what it is you really want to do, then have at it! But if you decide to start fresh in a “new” (but not really new to you) career path, then also have at it! The ball is in your corner.

Cards Used: 10 of Cups. 3 of Cups. 9 of Cups. Justice. 6 of Swords. The Hermit. The Fool. Prince of Cups.

Pile 2B: If you’ve been considering going into a business with a friend, you should absolutely do it! I saw the banner of a restaurant opening. I feel like this pile is really into the traditionally ‘girly’ things like doing your nails or hair. If this resonates then you should definitely take up cosmetology school. If that’s not what you’re into, consider going to school to become a masseuse or get into holistic medicine! You have a calming aura and people probably open up to you easily. But I get the feeling that you guys don’t always like to talk to people. You enjoy your solitude/quiet time & that’s okay. For those of you that are into poetry, you should consider posting your poems for monetary gain for extra money! In due time, you’ll figure it out. Be patient with yourself, you’ll know what sticks!

extras: aching feet. balloons. graveyard. black jeans. venus in the 11th house. aquarius venus. gemini venus. losing hair ties. the color purple. spoken word. friendship breakup.

Cards Used: King of Swords. 2 of Pents. The Hierophant (RX). Queen of Pents. The High Priestess. The Emperor. 5 of Cups.

Pile 3A: You guys are the people who long to be the boss. You guys strive for greatness & hold yourself to a certain standard. But I think that you’re doing a lot. You’re trying to do everything by yourself and you need some help. This could be a pile full of freelancers, psychics, therapists or entrepreneurs. Perhaps you’ve opened up a new business and everything just feels like it’s falling on top of you. You need an assistant to keep this business running! Hire someone that will keep you on top of your stuff. I think that you should try a new method of organization as well. Maybe you’re a model? If so, take some new headshots. Get some help with your portfolio. Update your resume. Create some new material because you’ve come so far. You really just need to be more proactive when it comes to your career; get on top of things quicker.

Cards Used: The Lovers. 3 of Swords. 5 of Swords. Queen of Swords. 3 of Cups. 9 of Cups (RX). 7 of Cups.

Pile 3B: This is the pile for those that are “inexperienced” but know that they’re going to be in their career field. I don’t think that you are clueless as to what you want to do. You know exactly what you want to do, you just don’t think you fit the criteria. When in reality, you’re rejecting yourself before someone else rejects you. Stop counting yourself out man. I think you want to pursue a career as a model, a baker, an influencer perhaps? I think you have some childhood wounds surrounding your social circle. You were viewed as an outcast and this is why you feel stuck. You know you’re going to be somebody but you need to start acting like it. I think that the route you want to take requires you to be in the spotlight. There is an audience for you but you refuse to put yourself out there. I think the best way for you to get over this is to challenge yourself. Create small tasks that will help you get out of your comfort zone. Therapists would call this rejection therapy. Try it!

extra: ANTM theme song. ADHD meds. kendrick lamar. “simultaneously”. influence. impostor syndrome. what was i made for? gymnast. athlete. being the only non-white person in the room. fitness model. green grass walls.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #hoodoo #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #spirituality #tarot deck #tarotcommunity #pick an image #pac reading

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imsparky2002 · 4 months ago

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Miraculous Animal AU

Hey everyone! Just thought I'd introduce an AU that will feature for JuleRose July. It's an AU where everyone is an ordinary animal on a special farm. Today we'll look at the Akuma Class (along with some extras)

Marinette the Ladybug - A lively yet clumsy lil ladybug who doesn't let her small stature prevent her in helping her friends. She's needed for making sure the farm's crops are healthy and loves munching on aphids and nectar. She's always flitting around, looking for inspiration for her designs, even if they are incredibly tiny.

Adrien the Cat - A kind and curious cat with golden fur. A total cinnamon roll, Adrien's always there to lend a paw. He can be a bit naive about the world at times, which can get him into trouble. He absolutely adores Marinette, as well as his fellow mates Kagami and Luka. Give him some catnip, and he shows a more wild side!

Alya the Fox - Alya is a crafty and corageous fox who's always yipping about news she heard from the other farms nearby. Farmer Caline even set up a little blog for her to report her findings. Unfortunately, humans can't understand her yet. She often finds herself debunking her fellow fox Lila's fibs. She also cares deeply for her turntable-loving turtle Nino.

Nino the Turtle - Slow and steady is Nino's motto. He's as chillaxed as they come and doesn't mind taking his time. The turtle thinks of himself as a DJ, which really means he likes climbing onto the record player and spinning on it. If he needs to unwind, he'll often pop into his shell.

Chloe the Bee - Chloe is always buzzing around flaunting her status as a queen bee, even if she's a a lowly worker. She can be full of herself and snobby at times, but get to know her and you'll see she can be sweet as the honey she produces. Her mates Lila and Sabrina know this firsthand. When she's not flying around with her sister Zoe or racing for pollen and nectar with Marinette, she likes to fly into rich human's parties.

Max the Horse - Only a tad larger than a pony, Max is more of a nerdhorse than a workhorse. You'll often find him trotting around, either trying to make an invention or nudging his special ball while neighing about something dorky. He's not too much of a fan of people riding him, but he won't buck you off unless you harm him. Otherwise you'll just get an annoyed snort. The only creatures he lets ride him are his two mates, Kim and Ondine.

Alix the Bunny - Easly the fastest in the farm, Alix is a cocky and energetic rabbit who's tasked with the job of keeping track of time. She makes sure everybody's present for a meeting or for bedtime. Despite being pint-sized, she packs a mean kick and will school her friends in parkour.

Kim the Monkey - A mischevious and cheeky simian, Kim often sneaks out of the farm for some monkey business. He loves playing pranks on his friends, usually escaping by swinging on special bars and vines created by Farmer Caline. He's also quite athletic, meaning he and Ivan often build up their strength together. He happens to love and cherish not just Max, but also a heron by the name of Ondine, who flies in every now and again.

Mylene the Mouse - A timid and talented little mouse, Mylene often scurries aroud the farm, observing things that her bigger friends may have missed. She loves vegan cheese and the stage, and puts on little shows for the others. It's here where she stops being so shy and stands out from the crowd. Juleka and Adrien care for the mouse, but also love chasing her. She finds it fun, knowing they wouldn't harm her, and even pops in their mouth so that they can carry her when she's tired.

Ivan the Ox - A burly ox with a gentle soul. Ivan's the main bodyguard of the farm and is always practicing his headbutting. He loves to graze and listens to heavy metal music through the record player. Ivan and Mylene are mates, always taking time to snuggle or nudge eachother. He's very protective of his friends as well, especially Nathaniel, as a fellow horned mammal.

Sabrina the Dog - A loyal dog and a faithful assistant, Sabrina's always got a watchful eye on the farm. She and the felines love to chase eachother, and Sabrina often works with Max on keeping track of the farm's resources. She's always there to be Chloe and Lila's right-hand girl, as they are her loving mates. Still, she can't resist when one of her friends throws a stick or tells her to roll over.

Juleka the Tiger - A majestic purple tiger with a love for darkness, goth stuff and meat. She's quite timid, and it takes a lot for her to let out more than a quiet growl. Still she can't help but roar with joy whenever her favorite pig waddles into her arms. Her and Rose are mates and she often protects the little oinker from harm. She also likes to model tiny hats from Marinette, and going for a swim in the water.

Rose the Pig - A perky perfume-loving pig. For Rose, an awesome day is when she gets to roll in mud, smell Farmer Caline's perfume, and dig into a nice bowl of slop. She also loves Juleka and they'll often sing songs together, even if it comes out in the form of squeals and roars. It's very hard to put a frown on her face. She also sneaks out to go to fast food chains, oinking at them to stop eating her species.

Nathaniel the Goat - Nathaniel is a goat with a love for art and those funny books that Farmer Caline leaves out. He's more keen to munch on a tin can and lovingly headbutt Marc than take part in the farm's more wacky adventures. Often the snarker of the group, Nathaniel's always there to clean the land in the farm and bump people to show affection. He's also a huge fan of art, and bleats with joy whenever he sees a painting, inspired to make one himself.

Marc the Rooster - Marc's crows wake everyone up in the morning, but he's not usually a screamer. An anxious and skittish rooster, Marc's always staying close to someone. He's always watching for potential predators or if other birds from Farmer Olga, Farmer Alonzo and Farmer Dahlia's groups come by. He loves to write, and is always clucking and flicking a book. He and Nathaniel have a comic together, which is really just Nathaniel's hoofprints from dipped paint, and Marc pecking little rips into the paper. The others love it and think it's a masterpiece.

Luka the Snake - A relaxed and musical viper, Luka loves to slither around the farm, usually resolving conflicts or sharing his songs with others. He and Juleka see eachother as twins, since they were born in the very same barnstall. He often hisses words of wisdom to his sister and loves to coil around Marinette, Adrien and Kagami, his mates. He, Ivan, Juleka and Rose have a "band", but really it's just the group of them making noise with their mouths and bodies.

Kagami the Komodo Dragon - Though she may be cold-blooded like Luka, they both share a warm heart for their mates and friends. Kagami often crawls around the farm, practicing her fencing skills with a small stick in her mouth. A stoic, she feels as though it is more important to keep calm and carry on. Though she does get a bit competitive and will easily agree to dares put on by Kim and Alix.

Lila the Fox - The other fox in the group, Lila likes to tell tall-tales when she feels insecure about herself. She also has an adorable rivalry with Alya, which to humans, just looks like the two of them hissing and yipping at eachother, while their mates nudge at them to stop. She likes messing with Marinette, since her reactions make the fox giggle. Still, she cares deeply for her friends and especially her two mates.

This took some time to think of, but I'm happy with the result! Stay tuned for Ondine and the other Science Kids, then the Recess Kids and finally the Theatre Kids! Make sure to comment, reblog and like for more! @artzychic27 @msweebyness @nerd-chocolate

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berryhobii · 1 year ago

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Games (ksj x reader)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Kim Seokjin x black!female!reader

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: established relationship, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), slight brat!reader and slight brat tamer!Jin, whiny reader, masturbation(f receiving), multiple orgasms(f receiving), clit play, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism I guess(Jin watches reader touch herself), light nipple play, reader has TIG ‘OL BITTIES, missionary, both legs over one shoulder position, cum swallowing, light overstimulation

A/N: Hi! I’m back with a little something for all of my Seokjin fans! Inspired by that live when he played computer games for like 3 hours and was making noises that had me turning my phone volume down😩😩🤭 as for reader, I only mentioned them having brown skin and sweated out hair, nothing too specific this time around. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think! Stay safe loves🩵🩵🩵

“Jinnie! Pay attention to me.” You whined as you draped yourself across your boyfriend’s wide shoulders.

“Later, baby. I want to hit a streak on this.”

He was currently playing some stupid game where he had to get a man in a pot to the top of stupid hill or something. Honestly, you didn’t even know and you didn’t really care. All you wanted was for your boyfriend to come rail you until the neighbors complained. Or until your bed frame broke again. Whichever came first. But he was adamant about reaching a certain point in the game that not even the call of sex could pull him away.

How could it not?! Your pussy was much better entertainment than some lousy computer game. Hell, it entertained himself more than enough that one time the wifi went out. So why wasn’t it now?

You should go and yank the plug out of the wall and really make him mad.

You pouted your lip, grabbing both of his cheeks and turning his head until his face was planted right between your full breasts.

“But baby….I need you.”

He moved his head so that he could look up at you. God you were adorable when you were all pouty and horny. Of course he wanted to fuck you to tears but he hasn’t had a lot of time to sit and play his games lately. He just wanted to play for a little while but when you were horny, you were horny. And you did anything to get what you wanted.

Perhaps he spoiled you a bit too much but he didn’t mind. He liked you like that—his spoiled little princess.

He lifted his hands to rest on your ass, giving the fat a little spank. “I know princess. Just be patient for a little bit, yeah? I promise I’ll play with you later.”

Your lip could have fallen off from how hard you were jutting it out. Nevertheless, you relented, releasing his head from your hold.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

His smile made your heart flutter. He was too cute to stay mad at for long. Damn your weakness for him.

“I’ll do whatever you want later, okay?” He lifted his hand to pinch at your nipple that was poking through your tank top. You squealed at the sudden pain, not even trying to deny the tingling in your cunt.

Tease.

“Stop.” You whined, batting his hand away to which he laughed and turned back to his game.

Damn it. Now you were more horny if that was even possible.

Trudging over to the bed, you flopped belly first onto it. You laid there for a hot moment, trying to ignore the wetness of your panties sticking to you and your clit that was aching for attention.

Knowing Seokjin, he’d be on that game for hours, probably well past bedtime and you couldn’t wait that long.

Fuck it. You’d take matters into your own hands. If Seokjin wouldn’t fuck you, you’d just do it yourself. Yeah!

Flipping over, you reached for your shorts, tugging them down and off along with your panties. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your heated core. Everything just felt so sensitive for some reason.

You removed your tank top next, breasts flopping down against your body once freed.

Scooting up so that your head was resting on the pillows, your hands began their journey. You didn’t even need to warm yourself up since you’ve been warmed up and desperate for hours.

Your fingertips met your clit, hips jumping at the pressure. Fuck, you were pent up. You ran your fingers down your slit, gathering some of the copious wetness that was spilling out of you before trailing back up to your clit.

Your back arched as you rubbed small circles into the sensitive little nub. You could already feel an orgasm building in your lower tummy.

“Mmpf, fuck…” You moaned quietly, twisting and pinching at your nipple. Your fingers sped up a little bit, applying more pressure and building that heat even faster.

Your legs shifted restlessly, toes digging into the sheets as that tingling feeling spread all over your body.

Mouth dropping, your orgasm washed over you in blazing waves. You continued to rub at your clit, guiding yourself through until you could breathe again.

But you needed more.

Glancing over at your boyfriend, you found him still absorbed in his game. You bit your lip as you took in the broad expanse of his back, those shoulders home to your legs whenever he’d take you in missionary. People thought it was a boring position but you absolutely loved it, the curve of his cock would hit your spot just right and…..

You didn’t even realize your fingers had started moving again as you thought about your boyfriend’s cock…..and his hands…..and his tongue.

Abandoning your breast, you brought your hand down to your hole, stuffing two fingers inside of yourself. You located your spot easily, pressing up into it and beginning to thrust your fingers in and out. The fingers on your clit worked in tandem, that pressure building again.

Your skin felt too tight, pleasure bursting at your seams as you stimulated your most sensitive spots.

Suddenly, the sound of Seokjin’s cries of failure hit your ears and you swore your soul left your body. What the hell was up those almost pornographic noises?

The pads of your fingers pressed even faster into your walls, rubbing against that spot harder until that pressure felt ready to explode.

The squelching of your walls were loud enough to catch Seokjin’s attention. He froze for a second, making sure he was hearing correctly.

Then your pleasured gasps met his ears and he knew he wasn’t hallucinating. A smirk rose to his face, that slightly egotistical feeling settling in his chest.

You were such a brat but you were his brat.

Leaving his game for now, he turned in his chair to face the bed where your beauty was laid out.

Lost in pleasure, your brown skin glistening from sweat, chest heaving and arm muscles contracting as you moved them between your legs.

He couldn’t see much due to your bent legs but judging by the sounds, you were soaking wet. Probably dripping all over.

He could feel his cock beginning to stand at attention. Just the thought of your gushing walls wrapping around his cock was enough to push him to his feet.

You were so busy chasing your high that you didn’t even feel the bed sinking nor the new presence that joined you.

A soft touch trailed up the inside of your thigh made you flinch, your eyes opening and head lifting from the pillows to find your boyfriend sitting in front of you.

“J-jinnie…” You gasped.

His eyes were bright, a small smile on his face. One that made a cold rush go down your body.

“Keep going, princess. You’re close.” He’s studied your body long enough to know those things.

You obeyed, your clit buzzing and walls clenching as you pushed yourself closer and closer to the edge.

Seokjin’s touches were featherlight as they trailed up your thighs, fleeting and barely there but still managing to make you feel hot all over.

“I’m cumming….Jinnie, please…” You whined, begging for him to do anything. Something.

He shushed you, leaning to press a light kiss on the side of your knee. “Cum princess.”

And like a switch had been flipped accessible only by him, your orgasm rammed into you like a truck.

The force of your walls pushed your fingers out of yourself, a small spray of liquid following. Your moan was wall shaking, fingers slapping against your overstimulated clit to ride out your orgasm.

“Shit! Oh my god!” You hissed, your legs shaking from the shocks.

Seokjin watched with lustful, hooded eyes as you came. He would never grow tired of the sight.

“My pretty girl.” He whispered against your skin, kissing his way up your belly and between the valley of your breasts. His hands gripped at the soft globes, the familiar weight feeling like heaven in his palms. His plush lips licked and sucked dark hickies into your skin, index fingers and thumbs pinching at your hardened nipples.

You hummed a moan, your own fingers gripping at his pajama shirt, trying to undo the buttons.

He tsked. “Such a greedy girl. I told you to be patient.” His lips trailed up your sweaty throat, nipping at your pulse point that was thrumming like crazy. He inhaled the sweetness of your skin, tongue catching the saltiness of your sweat. You drove him crazy. He wanted to devour you.

“If you gave me what I wanted in the first place, I wouldn’t be greedy.” You fired back. Even after all this, you still had the gall to be smart with him.

He smirked against your throat, his fingers giving your nipples a surprise twist and making you yelp.

“God you’re so spoiled.” He raised his body so that he was hovering over you and could take in your face. Your glittering eyes and thick lips beckoning for him closer.

Your fingers finally got his shirt open, fingers feeling up his lean stomach and wide chest.

“And?” You fluttered your lashes, hand going down to grip at his erection.

He grunted at the feeling of your palm rubbing at him, a chuckle struggling through.

“And I love you.”

You smiled, feeling warm all over at his confession. “I love you too.”

He pecked your lips a few times before moving to your cheeks and then your nose and forehead, giving you kisses all over your face. You giggled, basking in his affection for a moment before you remembered what you were doing.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hands running through his soft hair. “Fuck me, Jinnie. Please.” You pulled him back down to kiss him again, this time more desperate and needy. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders and him pulling it all the way off, his lips never left yours. You went for his pants next, pushing them down enough so that his cock was freed.

Your warm palm wrapped around him, thumb swiping at the precum at his tip and smearing it around. He moaned against your lips, hips canting forward into your hand.

“Jin….hurry.” You urged, wanting him inside now.

He smirked against your mouth. “So impatient.” He pulled away from you, your breaths mingling as you both panted. You took in his flushed face—ears and cheeks flushed red and plush lips swollen and spit slicked. You had a thought to sit on his face but tucked it away for later. For now, you just needed his cock.

Seokjin pushed his pants the rest of the way off. He never wore underwear to bed so that wasn’t an issue. Gripping his cock, he stroked it a few times before lining up with your entrance.

You held your breath as he slid inside, his girth stretching you and filling you to the brim.

“You’re so wet, princess. Feel so good….” He groaned, one hand digging into your thigh to pull you closer and the other going to rest beside your head.

You inhaled a deep breath, relaxing your walls to let him push the rest of the way inside.

“Cock feels so good, Jinnie….” You breathed. “Fuck me. Now.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back.

Not needing to be told again, he began thrusting his cock into your slick walls. Every thrust made your walls squelch, louder than your heartbeat that pounded in your ears. Seokjin could hear it too, fingers digging harder into your thigh.

Loud staccato moans left his lips, his cock engulfed the the warm and wet heat of your pulsing walls. He could already feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, faster than he anticipated.

His moans lit something inside of you, your arms hugging him closer. Seokjin was always a vocal lover, letting you know just how good he felt and you loved that. It was also really hot to hear a man be so noisy.

You could feel that tingling once again in your lower tummy. It felt stronger than before and radiated all the way to your toes.

“I’m gonna cum.” You announced.

Seokjin groaned, shaking your arms from around his shoulders much to your displeasure. He slowed down momentarily, a bratty whine humming in your throat.

“Shush.”

He grabbed both of your legs, bringing them together and then putting them over his shoulder. He folded you in half, your knees resting on your collarbone and your bottom slightly lifting off of the bed.

This new position made your walls tighten up even further.

You could feel every inch and vein of his cock, the ridges brushing against your spot everytime. Your nails scratched at his broad back as Seokjin began hammering into your juicy cunt.

“J-Jin!!! Jin!!” You screamed. It felt like his cock was in your stomach, thrusts scrambling your brain and hurtling you towards the edge.

He leaned down to kiss you on your open mouth and your cheeks. Your walls were squeezing him tight enough for him to slow down a bit, stroking you slow and deep. Every press of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs, your fingers leaving welts across his back from how rough you were holding him.

“Mmmm-m’cumming….” You stuttered, that band in your tummy pulling taut and ready to snap.

“There you go, princess. Cum on my cock. Good girl.”

This orgasm was powerful, settling deep in your muscles and shuddering your body with pleasure.

Seokjin choked on a moan as your soaking walls clenched around him. He sped up, hips clapping against your ass as he chased orgasm.

“Gonna cum, princess….” The head of his cock rubbed against your abused sweet spot. You gasped, overstimulation starting to prickle at your throbbing cunt.

“My mouth, Jinnie. Cum in my mouth.”

He reluctantly pulled out of your pussy, your legs dropping and body lifting to get on your knees in front of him. You took him into your mouth, sucking harshly at his tip, tongue licking under the head.

His hands buried in your sweated out hair, forcing his cock further down your throat. He tossed his head back, biting at his red kissed lips as your hot mouth worked him into his orgasm.

He forced your head down until he was buried completely in your throat, moaning loudly as he came. Your fingers dug into the sheets, eyes watering as you choked around his girth.

You swallowed down every drop, waiting until Seokjin released your head before sliding off his cock.

You fell back against the sheets, trying to regain your breath. Your body felt sated and you were close to drifting off to sleep but you were suddenly flipped over onto your stomach.

“Huh?” You drowsily hummed, lifting your head and turning a little to look behind you. You gasped when you felt Seokjin’s cock fill you once again. You thought he would go back to playing his game after giving you what you wanted but you were very wrong.

“Ahhh….but what….what about your game?”

“I have a new game. Making you cum until I can play in peace.”

Uh oh…..

#bts #bts smut #bts x black reader #bts fic #seokjin smut #bts imagines #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #taehyung smut

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bbyquokka · 1 year ago

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burnt birthday cake

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | kim seungmin x fem reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | fluff, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 | seungmin and you get a little pre-occupied whilst baking a birthday cake

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | soft dom seungmin, established relationship, thigh riding, clit stimulation, breast/nipple play, oral (f & m rec), multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, small mentions of food, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cock warming, cum on body, pet names.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 | 4.6k ~ ( 4,682 )

m.list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

birthdays have never been seungmin's thing. he doesn't like the fuss and the attention it brings him. it makes him feel awkward and uncomfortable when he has everyone looking at him whilst opening gifts or everyone singing him happy birthday; he's always found his birthday to be that extra bit exhausting.

he's appreciative of the time and effort you and everyone else makes for him, forever thanking you all for the love and gifts. one thing for certain is that the amount of love he feels is the greatest gift of all for him and he'd prefer that over something materialistic.

the weeks leading up to his birthday you've been asking him the same questions of “what do you want?” and “would you like to do anything?” seungmin's typical answer is always “nothing” which won't do for you and he knows that. he wishes you wouldn't spend x amount of money on him for one day but he can't deny that the excitement you feel for him makes his day feel that extra bit special.

so when seungmin tells you he wants nothing, you do the complete opposite and give him something, or rather, you craft him something.

having a birthday every year means you soon start to run out of ideas to gift him, so you took the liberty of browsing the internet for gift ideas for your boyfriend and that's when you came across coupons!

it took you weeks and weeks to craft them to perfection as well as think of cute (and cheesy) ideas for them. having to keep it a secret from him has been the worst part. you're so full of excitement and anticipation that you just want to tell him and spoil the surprise.

you decorated the coupons in various colours, the main one being red. puppym sitting in the corners holding flowers, hearts or just simply smiling and blowing kisses. as the day grew closer and closer, that insecure feeling started to sink in.

all you have are coupons and that's it. will it really be enough for him?

you know seungmin appreciates everything you do but even so. the day before his birthday, you went out and bought some decorations to decorate the living area as well as some fake flowers, chocolates and a silver couples bracelet with heart charms that are broken but whole again when put together.

seungmin knows that you've been up to something, he can feel it in the air. he put it down to you just being excited about his birthday. you both do your usual bedtime routine before hopping into bed. you lie awake, carefully listening out for his soft snores that indicate he is in a deep sleep.

when you hear that adorable sound, you pull the duvet off slowly and swing your legs to the side of the bed. you slowly lift yourself up and tiptoe out off the bedroom, closing the door ever so slowly behind you.

you set to work blowing up balloons and decorating the living area in birthday decorations. you write out a card for him, sprinkling some fake rose petals on the floor leading from the bedroom door to the coffee table that you've decorated in the same petals and his gifts.

it takes you a good hour and a half to make sure everything is to perfection. once you feel confident enough, you tiptoe back into bed and sleep until the next day.

you're the first to awake the next morning. you roll to your side to be met with a puffy faced, hair tousled seungmin whose lips are parted and soft snores escaping. you coo a little, feeling your heart melt at how adorable he is before kissing his puffy cheek gently.

“minnie.” you whisper between each kiss. he stirs in his sleep and groans, a groan that's laced thick with sleep. “wake up. it's your birthday!”

“mhm.. what time is it?” he asks, his eyes still closed but he's conscious of his surroundings. you look at the digital clock.

“it's past nine.” you respond. seungmin groans and gently grabs you, rolling you over to the side and holding you close to his naked chest. you laugh softly before nuzzling into his warm and soft skin.

“few more minutes.” his voice thick with sleep and body heavy. you allow him to suffocate you in his arms and body heat, his chest rising in a steady tempo. those soft snores are once again heard indicating that your sleeping beauty has fallen back asleep.

you allow him a couple minutes of rest before gently shaking him. you feel bad for waking him up knowing he probably really needs some rest, but today is his birthday and you're excited (as well as nervous) for him to receive your handcrafted gift!

“c'mon sleeping beauty. wake up!” you say as you gently shake his tired body. he groans and mumbles before his eyes slowly peel open. you grin, kissing him on the lips suddenly. it takes a few seconds for his brain to register but that doesn't stop him from pulling you back to him and giving you a sweet and passionate kiss.

lips moving and moulding together perfectly. his hands caressing the small of your back. your fingers tangling in his hair. he hums softly as he deepens the kiss by sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. you part them slowly, allowing his tongue to freely slip inside your mouth and play with your own.

legs tangled together, seungmin lifts up his leg and presses his thigh against your clothed core. you gasp a little, the feeling of excitement bubbling in your stomach and heat hugging your groin. oxygen becomes little to nothing very quickly, saliva mixes together and seungmin's hands travel from your back to grip onto your hips where he guides them back and forth.

your clothed core rubs against his thigh slowly. it's not as pleasurable as if you were to be naked but the kissing, the sucking, the guiding and the friction is heightening it all which makes you feel wet.

seungmin pulls from your lips briefly to kiss your neck. he peppers kisses along the skin, his hands gripping your hips as he rocks you on his thigh. you grip onto his shoulder gently, the bed squeaking due to the movements as you let out soft moans.

“seungmin..” you softly moan out. he hums and ever so gently kisses your earlobe. it tickles, which causes goose bumps to rise to the surface of your skin. soon enough, you're rocking your hips on your own, seungmin letting go of them to slide his hand between the two of you to slide your panties to the side.

you gasp as the cold air hits your hot pussy. seungmin's fingers dance along your hot skin until his fingertips reach your clit where he slowly rubs slowly circles.

“m-minnie.” you gasp.

“shh, pretty. let me take care of you, mkay?” he whispers in a low and seductive tone. you succumb to him instantly, nodding your head and closing your eyes slowly.

he toys with your clit. fingers rubbing agonising slow circles. he tenses his thigh, the muscles hardening to provide you with more friction. you gently grab his hand and slide it under your top, silently begging him to play with your breasts whilst you ride his thigh.

your juices coat seungmin's skin which makes it easier for you to glide on. his hands cup and massage your soft breasts, giving them hard and gentle squeezes. you pant softly, seungmin burying his face into your neck as he pinches and tugs on your hard nipples.

seungmin's scent. his sounds. his touch. it's making you feel dizzy. you desperately rock on his thighs, desperately chasing your fast approaching orgasm. heat pools in the pit of your stomach, threatening to overspill. you grip onto seungmin as tight as you can whilst his fingers toy with your sensitive and hard nipples.

he rolls the buds between his thumb and finger, tugging and pinching them. each moan that emits from your chest shoots straight down to his hard cock, which is straining against his underwear. everything you do and say makes him twitch and heat to hug his cock and balls tightly.

“you're so pretty.” he whispers. “you're so pretty riding my thigh. does it feel good baby? riding my thigh and having your nipples played with?”

“fuck. yes!” you grunt.

“will you cum on my thigh pretty? show me how much you truly enjoy it.” you simply nod and hum. your eyes fluttering shut, movements sloppy and uncoordinated.

you grip onto him for dear life as you moan his name out. your orgasm washes over you in an instant, juices coating seungmin's thigh as you lazily rub your pulsating pussy on him to ride out your high.

you come down from your high to find seungmin staring at you in a needy fashion. his bottom lip being chewed on and brows pinched in the middle.

“help me, please.” you simply nod before diving under the duvet. seungmin rolls onto his back and lifts his hips up for you to pull down his underwear.

you shuffle between his legs and grab the base of his hot shaft. you pump him a few times, loving the way he twitches and groans before licking your lips and encapsulating his length in your moist mouth.

“shit!” seungmin groans. his lips part as you bob your head at a steady pace. you use your hand to stroke what isn't in your mouth making sure to synchronise the movements together.

you flatten your tongue to stroke the underside of his skin, occasionally rubbing his tip along the inside of your cheeks. you pull away from a brief second to lick up and down his shaft from base to tip, giving that extra bit of love on his red cock head.

tongue flicking and swirling around him, collecting his salty precum that's free flowing from his slit. his cock and balls twitch in your hand and his thighs tense.

you wrap your lips around his cock head once more, slowly lowering your head to take a little over half of him. mouth stretching at the corners, tip threatening to reach the back of your throat. you close your eyes and hum around him as you suck him off. your free hand massaging and playing with his balls.

“fuck, i can't!” seungmin moans desperately. he twitches in your mouth a few times, the pleasure getting too much for him to handle. his body is hot and penis is feeling way too good for his mind to comprehend.

“if you don't pull away, i might cum.” seungmin warns to which you ignore. “fuck!”

with a few more sucks and licks, seungmin groans deeply. his penis twitches inside your mouth as his cum coats your tongue and throat. you hum around him, slowly pumping him whilst keeping your head still.

his muscles twitch in time with his release. his mind slowly turning to mush. you swallow all his cum as you continue to pump him. his penis becomes sensitive as he comes down from his high.

“b-baby, enough.” he groans. you hum and pull him out of your mouth with a wet pop before returning to the surface. you're pleased to see your lover all flushed and wide awake, his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“good morning.” you giggle. seungmin hums softly as he sits up, the duvet shimming down his body in the process.

“morning darling.” he kisses your lips sweetly before getting out off bed. you watch him grab some clean underwear before looking back at you. “coming?”

knowing what he was insinuating, you nod and follow him to the bathroom after taking some clean underwear yourself. you both do your daily morning routine before hopping into the shower to wash the smell of sex off you both and to freshen up for the day.

once clean, dried and dressed, you drag seungmin to the living room. his eyes widen at the sight of the birthday decorations and balloons you spent hours putting up.

“all of this is for me?”

“of course silly! it's your birthday after all. now, sit!” you gently push him to the sofa. he laughs and sits down as you hand him your card.

his phone pings and vibrates with the various text messages of family and friends that are wishing him a happy birthday. he turns his phone screen side down, sighing a little as he opens your card.

“are you not going to answer those texts?” you ask.

seungmin shakes his head no. “not yet. i want to spend time with you first, you're the number one important person in my life.”

“smooth.” you mumble. he winks at you before pushing back his soft and fluffy hair. he reads your card and smiles warmly at you before thanking you. next, you hand him your handcrafted gift; the gift you've been anticipating the most.

“what's this, baby?” seungmin flicks through the coupons, smiling at the little puppym's you've doodled.

“they're coupons! every time you want to do something that's on the coupon, give it to me and we do it. no questions asked!”

“no questions asked, you say.” seungmin hums with a smirk on his face. he flicks through the various offers, humming and making a mental note of which ones to use later.

“ah! this one.” he rips the coupon from its booklet and hands it to you. you read it and giggle.

“this one? really?” he nods and grins. “now?”

“of course! you did say no questions asked, baby.”

you look down at the coupon again and smile. your heart swelling with such love, it's suffocating. butterflies swarm your stomach and flutter around with your heart pounding against your rib cage.

‘BAKE A BIRTHDAY CAKE WITH ME!’

“then, let's bake a cake for you darling!”

you rush to the kitchen with seungmin slowly following you behind. his head buried in his phone as he replies to all the birthday messages. whilst he does his task, you grab the ingredients needed for the cake.

you start by mixing the ingredients together. shortly after, seungmin approaches you from behind and holds your waist as he kisses your cheek gently.

“sorry about that. i got bombarded with messages.”

“it's ok minnie. i understand.” seungmin rolls his sleeves up and washes his hands before helping you.

“the guys want to take me out for a birthday meal tomorrow, if that's ok.”

“of course it's ok. you know i'm fine with stuff like this.”

“i know but it's always good to run it down with you just so you're aware. there's probably going to be some drinking involved so it's best to prepare you for the worse.” he laughs.

“and by worst you mean, you stumbling home drunk and crying about how much you love me and that you didn't mean to get drunk and you hope i'm not mad at you.”

seungmin clears his throat as heat rises up to his cheek from his neck.

“let's not talk about that.”

“oh but it was so adorable minnie! i wish i caught it on video. you were just being so precious.”

“baby.” he whines, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “stoppp.”

“ok ok, i'll stop. but only because it's your birthday.” seungmin laughs before shaking his head. you pour the batter into a cake tin before adding it to the oven to bake.

as you're putting the batter in the over, seungmin grabs his coupon book and rips one out before handing it to you. you look at it, then at him with a blush.

“minnie, we just–”

“i'm horny and i want to fuck you.” you swallow and bite your lip gently. seungmin walks towards you and grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to his body. “it's my birthday, so i expect you to take good care of me, yn.”

“of course, minnie.” you whisper against his lips before they're pressed together in a passionate and heated kiss. seungmin lifts you up by your ass, your legs around his waist as he walks to the dining table where he gently places you down.

he fumbles with your clothing, slowly pulling your trousers and underwear down your legs and onto the floor. his lips stay locked onto yours, tongue pushing past your lips without permission.

he tastes the inside of your mouth, leaving no space untouched. you hold onto the sides of his neck, your fingertips being tickled by his hair.

seungmin pulls away briefly and lifts your top up to expose your chest and soft stomach. he plants kisses down the valley of your breasts before trailing them to your left breast where he sucks and bites on your hard nipple.

you grunt, fingers raking through his soft hair as you watch him suckle on your breast. he makes sure to pleasure your neglected right side, squeezing the soft flesh and rolling it around in the palm of his hand before teasing and toying with the nipple.

“oh minnie..” you sigh out softly. he detaches himself from your boobs, kissing down your stomach to your pussy. he grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to him so your lower half is just hanging off the edge of the table.

you lift yourself up as seungmin crouches down in front of your cunt. you use your hands to support your weight as seungmin buries his face into your pussy.

his lips instantly attached to your clit and folds, tongue licking between them and collecting your wetness. he holds your thighs gently as he devours your pussy, getting it nicely coated in saliva and juices.

his tongue dips into your entrance and back out again to then glide it between your puffy folds to your clit when he licks fast circles. he looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes dark with hunger and lust. you push his bangs back and away from his eyes before gathering it in your hand and tugging gently as you moan.

he lets out a grunt, eyes slowly closing as he gets lost at the task in hand. he flattens his tongue, pressing it flush against your clit as he licks long and slow stripes.

you feel two of his fingers slowly circling your entrance. sloppy and lewd sounds being made by your cunt as he rubs, licks and sucks until finally, he pushes two fingers slowly inside your aching core and stopping at the first knuckle.

the stretch burns which makes you hiss a little so seungmin waits a few seconds before pumping his fingers slowly. he scissors his fingers out in an attempt to loosen you a little, groaning as he feels your walls flutter and tighten around him.

your head kicks back as you moan his name softly. the pleasure from his mouth and fingers slowly building and building, resulting in it becoming too much too quick.

his fingers curl against your gummy walls. more of his fingers being pushed inside you until they're fully encapsulated. his speed picks up as he nibbles and licks your sensitive clit.

the heat pools in your stomach and threatens to snap. your thighs shake and broken moans leave your lips. your thighs threaten to shut around seungmin's head but you somehow manage to stop it from happening.

“seungmin.. cum..” you pant. a few more licks and thrusts of his fingers and your orgasm hits you. your body shakes and convulses, walls fluttering and contracting around his fingers as he fingers and eats you through your orgasm. you gently push him away as you come down from your high, smiling lazily as seungmin stands up and unzips his jeans.

he pushes them and his underwear down enough to fish his hard cock out. your eyes widen as he teases your entrance with his tip, rubbing it between your puffy folds and soaking his shaft in your juices.

“i want you, yn. just bear with me, please.” he slowly pushes his thick length into your tight vagina. you hiss at the burning stretch, your cunt tight from your orgasm. it knocks the air out of your lungs, your body burning but feeling unbelievably good.

seungmin pushes half his length inside you, his brows furrowed together as he pants heavily. he bites down in his bottom lip as he agonizingly waits for you to adjust and get used to his size.

your pussy feels so warm to him. his penis twitching inside you as he struggles with every passing second. your so tight around him, practically clamping down around his length. how you feel is making his nerve ends set on fire and his body to burn up to the point where he has to strip himself of his t-shirt.

“can i move? please say i can move.” he begs, his hands shaking with pleasure. you nod, giving him the go ahead he so desperately needed to hear.

he rocks his hips slowly, his shaft rubbing you on the inside at a slow and steady pace. he braces himself, calms himself down by taking deep breaths in and releasing it out slowly.

he doesn't want to hurt you. he can feel how tight you still are, even after waiting. you're so precious to him, however, as soon as he hears your desperate moans and begs for more, does he snap.

all rationality leaves his body. his hands gripping onto your waist as you lie flat on the table. your legs around his waist loosely as seungmin pounds into you. he angles each thrust, pushing more of his length inside until he is balls deep.

“here... c'mer.” he speaks through his heavy panting. his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his chest glistens. you slowly lift yourself up to his level, seungmin planting his hands by your sides on the table as he kisses you sloppily.

it's messy, uncoordinated and filled with heavy panting and moans. he uses one hand to hold your lower back to stabilise you a little as he slows down his tempo.

“i love you yn. i hope you know that.” he whispers against your lips as his hips move much more slowly. his thrusts are long but somewhat calm.

“i love you too, minnie. always have and i always will.”

“i don't know what i'd do without you.” he words lodged in his throat as he presses his forehead against yours gently. you smile warmly, stroking his hot cheek.

“then don't think about it. you're stuck with me forever, my love.”

“forever and always?”

“for eternity.”

his lips press against yours once again. this time, the kiss is slow and more passionate. lips moulding and moving together in perfect harmony. soft and breathy moans exchanging between the two of you as he strokes your lower back, gently caressing the skin which causes goose bumps to erupt to the surface.

his penis strokes your gummy walls as they clamp and flutter around him. his length soaking in your juices as he thrusts slowly, angling his thrusts to hit all the right places deep inside you.

he rests you back down on your back and grabs your hips. he resumes his powerful and deep thrusts from before, lust and hunger overcoming his mind.

“feel so good around me. your clamping around my cock so tightly. i can feel you fluttering.” he groans.

“it's your fault. you've made me like this.” you state. seungmin hums in acknowledgement, clearly proud of the way he has corrupted your mind and body to think and feel of nothing but him and him only.

the table rocks and creaks with each movement of his hips, threatening to break the study wood. you desperately reach out for something only to bite down on your first gently which also muffles your moans.

seungmin's head kicked back, neck on full display as his lips part. he's lost in the moment, lost in the feeling as are you.

“so good. so good!” he babbles, his penis twitching inside of you multiple times. due to your earlier orgasms, your third one of the day is quick to approach. your body sweats as the oversensitivity builds and builds and builds. you see stars as your mind fogs over and nothing but a faint buzz in your ears.

you clamp around seungmin tightly, stomach dipping. you reach down and grip onto your shaking thighs as you choke out “cum.”

walls fluttering and contracting around him, he watches your back arch up off the table and empty moans leave your lips. you whine and groan as your toes curl and your juices continually spill out onto seungmin's length. he strokes your inner thighs gently, stopping his thrusting for a brief second.

you slowly come down from your high and gasp, the air coming back to your lungs. seungmin smirks at you before thrusting again. this time, he is uncoordinated and sloppy. his balls and cock twitching and getting warm, his grip on your thighs tightening and tightening.

he squeezes you before he abruptly stops and pulls his cock out off you. he pumps himself fast, head hanging low as he ejaculates onto your thighs, coating them nicely in his cum.

he pumps himself, body twitching and legs turning to jelly. his head hanging low as you watch thick ropes of hot cum land on your skin. you sit up and gently push his hair back as a way of soothing him and helping him come back to you.

“shit.” he whispers breathly. his chest heaving as he looks up at you with tired eyes, giving you a small lazy smile. “that was good.”

“yeah?” he nods and looks at the mess on your thigh, swallowing a little and looking guilty.

“sorry about that. we just, didn't specify beforehand.”

you shake your head, disregarding his statement. “It's ok minnie. i don't mind.” you wink at him which causes his cheeks to flush pink. you giggle before frowning.

the smell of something burning hits your nostrils. you sniff the air a few times, confused on what it could possibly be. seungmin notices and does the same, his own brows furrowed together in confusion.

“do you smell that?” you ask him as he nods slowly.

“yeah. smells like something is burning.”

and then the realisation hits you. the birthday cake!

“shit shit shit!” you shuffle off the table, rushing to the kitchen and opening the oven door to be met with a faceful of hot steam and a harsh burning scent. you cough a little and fan your hand in front of your face to disperse the steam.

seungmin opens the window as you take the cake out of the oven. you look down at it and laugh before turning around to face your birthday boy.

the cake is caracoled, beyond saving. no amount of jam or frosting can help save the poor thing. you laugh softly, finding the whole thing amusing as does seungmin.

“sorry. i guess we forgot about the cake in the heat of the moment.” seungmin chuckles softly and ruffles your hair.

“i guess we did but hey, at least we had fun, right.” he winks. “anyways, we can always buy a cake so it's ok.”

“was the fun worth it for a burnt cake?”

“of course!” you laugh softly and discard the cake. seungmin walks to the bathroom to shower once again.

“hey, baby.” you say, causing him to stop in his tracks and look at you. “happy birthday, seungmin.”

he beams at you. his heart pounds against his chest and stomach fills with butterflies. his eyes sparkling with love and admiration for you as he gazed at the person he loves and treasures so much.

“thank you darling. now, are you going to join me?” he holds his hand out to you. you rush to him, sliding your hand into his. he intertwines his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your hand gently.

“of course i am!”

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 | i've been wanting to post this for WEEKS btw!! i've been so excited to share this with everyone! i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it !‹3‹3 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 (𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍) | @bintificreads ; @septicrebel ; @amyyscorner ; @hyunluvxo ;@aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @lilquokka04

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin #kim seungmin #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz oneshot #skz scenarios

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dexlexia · 11 months ago

Text

returning gifts - jin x reader

pairing: kim seok-jin x reader rating: 18+ summary: tags: pwp, smut, lingerie, sugar daddy!jin, sugar daddy au, college student!reader

Seokjin was obsessed with you. From the cute animal socks on your feet to the warm hat you wore when it was cold out. From head to toe, he loved you. He only wanted the best for his baby.

But then again what kind of sugar daddy would he be if he didn't spoil you rotten?

He had been away for a week now, you spent most of your time in the sleek townhouse you both shared (but he paid for). You only left to go to class and pick up groceries. It wasn't as much fun to go around the city without him, there was a Seokjin shaped hole in your heart when he was off doing business.

He was away for long stretches of time, but that was the life you signed up for.

You expected for him to be gone for another week, at least that was the timeline that he gave you. On the 20th he would be back, so when the front door opened and closed, you were taken by surprise.

You turned your head to the noise and took off your headphones. There at the door you saw your boyfriend. And without thinking you tossed your headphones to the side and raced over to him. By pure instinct you felt safe in his arms.

“Jin!” You squealed as you buried yourself into his neck and held onto him tightly. In return he wrapped his arms around you and held him close.

“Hi, honey.” He responded as he used one arm to get his bag off his shoulder while holding you with the other. He kissed your cheek and forehead lovingly, “I missed you.” Then went back to holding you with both arms.

“I missed you too, I thought about you every day. Basically every second of every day!” You buried yourself as deep as you could into his arms and felt comfort in his grasp. Oh, how you missed him. Even though you could've toughed it out for another week, the fact he was home made you feel warm all over.

Your eyes met and he leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, “I thought about you all the time as well, everyone kept asking about you. But I knew my baby was home, safe and sound. Right?”

You nodded eagerly and he leaned in for a soft kiss. He cupped the back of your head to keep the kiss deep. You held onto the font of his jacket and practically melted into his arms. This was your home, even without all the glitz and glam, this was what you wanted more than anything. More than any jewels or fancy houses or anything, you just wanted Seokjin.

He pulled away and took off his jacket to hang up. He took off his shoes and put them gently to the side. He smiled at you, you could see the small warmth on his cheeks. “Have you been taking care of yourself?” He worried that you were surviving off microwaveable meals or cheap take out.

“All the time, honey.” You responded, proud of yourself, “Three square meals and a proper bedtime.”

He chuckled, “I find that last one unlikely.” He brought his bags to the couch with your help. He looked at you once more when he was on the couch, “I did get you something. I want you to see it now, since you've been so good for me.“ Then sat down on the couch.

You watched nearby as he rummaged through his suitcase to find the expensive box. He pulled it out slowly, and kept his eyes on you. You leaned in, ”What is it?“ And soon the box was revealed to you. It was large, white with a thin red ribbon.

He took the box into both of his hands and handed it to you, ”Why don't you open it to find out?“ Then watched you sit down on the couch beside him. He put the box in you lap, ”I hope it's your colour.” Then took you by the face and kissed you on the cheek.

“You really shouldn't have.“ You said as you looked down at the box in your lap, ”I bet it was too expensive.“ You were nervous about ruining the box, you had a soft spot for nice packaging. You could feel Seokjin's eyes on you as you slowly opened the present.

”Only the best for you.“ He reached towards you and played with a strand of hair. If he were a cartoon character he'd have hearts in his eyes as he carefully watched you unwrap his gift. His heart raced with excitement as you got the ribbon off, he knew you were going to save it for some project later. “I wanted to know if mint was your colour.”

You opened the box and inside were a matching pair of bra and panties made of fine lace. They were almost see through, you wouldn't be wearing these to the gym. The thought made you chuckle to yourself that you kept restrained. You didn't want to seem like you were insulting your boyfriend.

“How do you like them?“ He asked as he kept a keen eye on you.

You turned to him and broke out into a huge grin, ”Oh, Jin. They're perfect. How did you know?“ Then put them down to pull him into a tight hug. You pulled away after a moment to kiss him all over the face, which made him blush more. His smile grew which made yours grow as well.

”I told you, only the best.“ He assured you, ”I only want to give you the best. This was the best place I could find in Paris. I wanted it to last a long time but look beautiful on you.“

You giggled and pulled him in for another kiss, ”You spoil me.“

”Only you.“ He replied.

”I should try it on!” You perked up as you grabbed the set out of the box and got up. "You stay here, okay?“

He leaned back into the couch and crossed one leg over the other. He replied, ”Of course, go. I want to see you in it.“ Then gave you a soft smile.

You quickly raced upstairs into the bedroom to get undressed. Out of your oversized clothes and ratty sports bra. It left you bare, you gazed at yourself in the full length mirror at the far end of the room.

You held up the bra to your breasts and gazed at yourself further. You blushed that Seokjin even thought of you, it was a sweet gesture. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. You exhaled deeply and blushed further, you knew his intentions with getting you something so sexual.

You put it on, it fits just right. It hugged all the right curves and showed off your assets. You did a turn in front of the mirror and even gave yourself a cheeky slap on the bum. The motion made you chuckle before you put all your clothes on the large bed you both shared and headed downstairs.

Seokjin was still seated on the couch with his phone out. He heard you come down the stairs and looked up at you. He smiled once more as he got up, he was captured by your beauty. He got close and took your hand then led you back to the couch.

He admired you as he watched you sit down. From the angle he was at, he could see the full beauty of your breasts which made him swallow. You really were a sight to behold, you truly were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

He sat down beside you and turned you towards him. He placed a hand on your thigh and placed your leg over his knees. He grabbed the meat of your thigh and looked at you closely. ”Amazing.“ He said, “I guess I picked right.”

“Of course, honey.” You replied as you leaned in, “You always pick right.” Then the strap started to fall and you watched Seokjin put it back in place. His hand lingered to your collarbone. You took him by the chin and pulled him in for a kiss, you felt warm all over as your lips touched his.

“I missed you.” He remarked, his lips so close to yours. His hand went back to your thigh where he massaged your hot skin. He pressed his chest up against yours as he kissed you once more.

“I missed you too.” You replied, your eyes shut before you went in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him. Soon the air of the living room grew warm as he touched you.

He thought you were a beauty, so perfect he had no words to say about it. You were just angelic. But he did want more. Soon both hands were on your back, they slowly moved up to the back of the bra.

"But now.“He said, ”I want you.“ Then undid the strap. You got out of it, and swung yourself onto his lap. He palmed at your breasts, his thumbs gazed at your nipples which made you moan. The sexual tension in the room was thick, and thankfully you were alone. No one could bother you as you began to kiss one another again. He continued to massage your breasts. He commented as he broke the kiss, ”Next time I'll take some photos, a little something for when we're apart again.“

”I'll even let you take some videos too.“ You chuckled as you held onto his soft hair. He peppered kisses on your breasts and you moaned loudly. You moved your hips on your own, your barely dressed pussy rubbed against his slacks. You yelped when his mouth went to your chest. You gripped onto his hair as he licked at one of your nipples.

”Perfect. All for me.“ He remarked, his dark eyes gazed up at you as he continued to lick at your nipple. He alternated between the two which made your toes curl as you remained in his lap. You felt your cheeks heat up as he teased you.

”Always for you, Jin.“ You replied.Your cheeks felt hot as you rubbed up against him. You pushed the hai out of your eyes to keep your gaze on him. Your heart was racing by the closeness to your boyfriend. He always left you so heated.

The kissing continued as he played with your breasts. His cock twitched in his pants as he felt the overwhelming urge to take a step further. He wanted you, he wanted you any way you'd let him. Soon you pulled away and moved so he could take his cock out of his pants.

You slipped out of the panties so as to not ruin them, which left you naked for your boyfriend. You both admired one another for a moment, you gazed at every line on his face before you went back into his lap. With his help you seated yourself onto his cock. You let out a long noise as you got seated with your hands on his shoulders.

You tilted your head back once you got comfortable. He placed his hands onto your hips and put his face between your bare breasts. He groaned into your soft skin as he rolled his hips up into you. The pace was slow and methodical. The room grew hotter with your love making.

He rubbed your hips as he continued to move in time with you. You were both working as a team to make each other climax. You moaned and held him tightly, your toes curled as you started to pick up the pace.

Your breasts moved in time with your thrusts and it only encouraged him to give them more attention. He groaned against you as you both moved together. He breathed heavily and held onto your hips. He felt the euphoria run up his spine as he moved. His body temperature rose with the heat of the living room and the closeness of your bodies.

”I love you.“

”I love you too.“ You moaned in response. You felt him tease your nipples which only made you grow more wet. The sounds of sex filled the room. ”Fuck, Jin. You're perfect.“ You quickened the pace as you moved up and down his cock.

He grit his teeth for a moment before he met your pace. Pleasure coursed through both of your bodies as you worked together. He started to leave marks on your skin. He groaned against your breast before he started to lick and bite at the sensitive flesh. The sensation only turned you on further.

”You are beautiful. Perfect. I only want you.“ He admitted, ”I only thought about you during my trip. I couldn't wait to come home to you.”

The pleasure was undeniable, the heat between you two left your heart racing. You wanted him more than anything. Your bodies moved together on the couch as he kissed your heated skin. The feeling was euphoric, it was hot beyond measure. You wanted him and he wanted you. He adored you, he thought nothing of the best about you.

You leaned down to kiss him on those soft lips before you moved your hips two more times and finished around his cock. Your pussy clenched around him as you gripped onto his shoulders. You relaxed and he picked up the pace as soon finished inside of you. He let out a loud groan as he did so, he felt the same rush through him as you did. It was hot and heavy all over.

Soon you were in each others' arms on the couch. He even kicked off his slacks to get more comfortable as he laid beside you. Your breathing was heavy as he sprawled out beside you. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.

You laid in bliss as the pleasure subsided,. you could hear Seokjin's heavy breathing in your ear. He kept a protective arm around you. He said, “I should buy you more stuff like that. Dress you all all fancy.”

You turned in his arms and kissed him. You held onto his face and replied, “Whatever you put me in, I'll wear.” Then pulled him in for another searing kiss.

#dexlexia writes #reader insert #bts #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bangtan #bts jin #jin #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #kim seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin x reader #bts smut #jin smut #sugar daddy au

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flowery-laser-blasts · 11 months ago

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Ron Stoppable Lipsky concept - A Sitch in Time AU

Ok hear me out:

This is my take on a slightly darker themed story. All of this would play out during the 'a sitch in time' special. The villains go to Middleton in the past to disarm their teenage foe by preventing her from ever becoming friends with Ron and in turn training him to become an agent of chaos with only one mission: eliminate Kim Possible.

The team would kidnap Ron, erase all of his memories and start training almost immediately.

Duff Killigan is the first one to drop out upon hearing this plan. He thinks this goes a bit too far: sure getting rid of Kim is nice and all, but kidnapping a wee lad from his parents and brainwashing him? That doesn't sit right with Killigan. Yes, he's world's deadliest golfer, but this has NOTHING to do with golfing.

Monkey Fist is on the other side of the coin: he wants to ensure that Ron will never get his hands on ancient monkey power. He wants to kill the child. That way he'll never become friends with Kim nor obtain monkey powers. Drakken, Shego and Duff object heavily to it and battle ensues. Monkey Fist is outnumbered, Drakken opens a portal to a remote past and Shego kicks Fiske in. Duff takes his chances to save Ron by trying to push Shego in but Drakken notices it, makes Duff trip and follow after Monkey Fist. Now only Dr. Drakken and Shego are left and they go on with the plan.

Ron gets kidnapped, brainwashed, tutored and trained in private by the two of them.

Things have changed quite a bit for both Drakken and Shego. The plan is still top priority but they do find a bit of joy in raising the kid. Drakken and Ron are almost inseparable at this point. At first Drakken was annoyed by the constant questioning of the child, but once Ron showed enthusiasm for Snowman Hank and helping his 'dad' out in the lab, Drakken warmed up, a lot.

Shego had a more calculated approach at the start. Since she has a degree in children's development, she knows how and where to manipulate little Ron. Other than that she started training him young and got a lot of fun out of teaching the boy different fighting techniques and him chopping a wooden plank in half and injuring a henchman at the same time!? Amazing!! As a bonus: the hugging, the "I love you mama"s at bedtime and the surprisingly sweet bouquets of hydrangeas she received for mother's day were very sweet.

The three became an unexpected family.

Ron is a whole different person now. Calculated, sharp and very skilful in fighting. But he also has a softer side to him that comes out when he and Drakken start talking about nerd stuff.

One day, Shego stole a very valuable microchip, one of the last pieces they needed for world domination and like clockwork; Kim Possible appeared at the lair to save the day. However it wasn't the evil megalomaniac and his sidekick she had to fight but, a teenage boy? Wait, she recognised his face!

They fought and for most of it, Kim dodged and analysed her opponent. Ron growing frustrated started to fight more recklessly, giving Kim opportunities to strike. She managed to get back the microchip and got away but not before reassuring Ron that she'll 'help' him.

Shego partially felt like she had failed the training and that this 'mother charade' was to blame for it. The boy was still weak and his weakness affected her over time.

Drakken let it slide. He saw this as a victory because comparing Ron to how he used to be, this was a very close to being the ultimate weapon against the teen hero. The boy needed just a bit more drive and Drakken knew that revenge would be just that.

Drakken sent out Ron to retrieve the once stolen microchip to redeem his previous failure and as extra task: kill the teenage hero.

Ron manages to find Kim alone in her house and they start battling it out. Kim tells him that she has suspicions that he's not who he thinks he is nor are Drakken and Shego. She tells him about the boy that got abducted on the first day of kindergarten, the missing posters and how the entire city was on a wide search for him. Ron gets conflicted over all of this and breaks down. Kim wants to comfort him but gets punched out cold. Ron is about to give a final strike and end her but what she said, he has to know if she was speaking the truth. He finds the microchip and returns home.

Drakken is delighted when his 'son' returns and even more proud to hear that "Kim Possible has been taken care of." Drakken leaps into the air and says that this calls for a doomsday party. Ron says he feels a bit tired and retreats to his bedroom. Later on when everyone's passed out, he starts snooping around and after thorough searching. Ron finds out about the entire plan and the monkey idle. He calls for Kim through her website and she arrives. He tells her what happened and how to fix this until they get disturbed by Drakken and Shego.

The four of them battle it out with both parties hurt by this betrayal. In the end the money idle shatters and brings everything back to the status quo.

QUESTIONS I IMAGINE SOME OF YOU HAVE

"Kim and Ron lost at the start of the special because they lived far apart from one another, how would this play out here?" Easy, Drakken managed to disrupt the kimmunicator signal connected to Wade before, who says he can't do it again? Señior Senior Senior also managed to find Wade's home address so it won't be hard to find him and destroy all his tech. That way, Kim won't know where the villains are.

"But wouldn't present Kim stop them by going back in time?" No, she can't. There is no supreme one in this story, so Rufus 3000 (Kim's key to time travel) has likely a happy life OR doesn't exist. Besides the villains won't interfere with her memories from that day. They make sure not to get spotted by little Kim at all. Soon enough the timeline changes and Kim won't remember meeting Ron at all.

"But will Kim still be a hero? Ron convinced her to take on her first mission after all!" I'd say yes! Kim was always destined to be a hero. She might get more cries for help from people in need. I mean, when in crisis people might make mistakes writing to team Impossible. Kim wouldn't be able to ignore these requests because people are in danger and she feels the need to help.

"Won't Dr. Drakken and Shego be very old by the time Ron caught up in age?" Sitch in time's final act was a 20 years future gap and going from past to present is around 7 years + if they really care about appearances, they can still use the juvinator that Drakken has.

"Where are past Drakken and Shego? Won't they ruin the plan?" Like in sitch in time they would've probably convinced their past selves to go along with the plan. So let's say this is the timeline present day and past Drakgo:

- Drakgo goes to past, explains the plan to their past selves including the importance of the monkey idle and where to find it and secure it before past monkey fist gets his hands on it.

- Co-exist and follow the plans. They got double the ammunition for world take over and present day Drakken points out flaws in past Drakken's designs and plans.

- Once they caught up to present day, team past goes back in time to repeat the cycle (this time without Monkey Fist and Duff).

Hope you like this little concept!!

Special thanks to @creatorping for discussing the design with me!

#kim possible #kimpossible #kim possible sitch in time #dr drakken #drakken #shego #drdrakken #drakgo #dr. drakken #drakken x shego #shegoxdrakken #evil ron stoppable #ronstoppable #ron stoppable #duff killigan #duffkilligan #monkeyfist #monkey fist #lord monty fiske

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

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Goo Kim x Reader: Silly questions at bedtime

"Goodnight," and you roll over, letting the darkness and silence lull you to sleep.

Not even 30 seconds later-

"Are you asleep yet?" Goo's voice drifts over in his stupid stage whisper when he absolutely wants your attention but still pretends to be considerate.

You give a noncommittal groan even as you feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.

"Babe~" he singsongs, sidling behind you, the menace breathing right down your ear.

Goodbye any chance of sleep. "What."

"Does the brain control the body or the body control the brain?"

Your mind takes a second to process that question, and then you find yourself wide awake. "Goo, I swear to god."

"But babe, if you think about it-"

Your fist clenches around your pillow, "No."

"If you think about what an animal does-"

As Goo starts to ramble, you desperately will his voice to wash over you, but you can pick out clearly every word he says, your mind starting to whir at what the fuck he is talking about.

Ugh. You cut him off, having learnt to quickly nip these train of thoughts in the bud sooner rather than later. "This is the would you love me if I was a worm all over again."

"Would you?"

Even with your back to him and in the dark, you can picture his stupid face clear as day. The glint in his eyes, the smug smirk. Same as when he prodded and probed you enough that you finally gave an answer he was satisfied with.

Gritting your teeth, you tell him "Yes, sure, whatever." Again.

Not missing a beat, "What about if I didn't have skin?"

How does he even come up with this. Incredulous, you turn around. "What?"

"My beautiful flawless skin." Goo emphasises this by rubbing himself up against you, "Would you?"

"You'd be dead."

"Would you though?"

"Goo." you shove him off you, "Go to sleep."

"What if I had feet for hands and hands for feet?"

Silence.

"What if I had no arms or legs?"

More silence.

"What if I was Gun?"

Ok. This one you couldn't resist. There'd be hell to pay, but...

"I'd love you MORE!"

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo #kim joongoo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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daechwitatamic · 2 years ago

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IX. Heedless and Willful || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

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

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

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

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

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

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

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

Things accelerate between you and Namjoon, but complications linger.

Section Warnings: language, kissing, groping, breast play/nip stim, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), multiple rounds

WC: 8k

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

Saturday December 1st

The weekend brings with it a deluge of rain, a slow-moving weather system that has the streets holding inches of water, the road-side drains overflowing.

You stay inside all day, and so does Namjoon, but you largely orbit around each other, working on your own things, leaving the other alone.

Things had accelerated so suddenly between you that now you feel like you had slammed on a brake, inertia carrying you to teeter dangerously over an edge. You’re not sure if Namjoon is feeling the same way, but you think it’s probable.

You kind of want to tip over the edge, is the thing.

You work in your room, sitting at your desk, your bedroom door wide open. You’re kind of working, kind of watching water rush down the road below the apartment. It’s well after dinner, pitch black outside, but the streetlights illuminate the flow as the rainwater moves along beneath you. You’re having trouble focusing because of the rain - it lulls you to sleep, tricks you into thinking it’s bedtime. You can’t remember ever seeing rain like this, and the sound is all-encompassing, like you could wrap yourself up and exist within it.

You’ve just given up on focusing and closed your laptop for the night when there’s suddenly a huge boom from outside, loud and close enough that the floor shakes beneath your feet, and everything goes black around you. You scream, startled, and jump to your feet, knocking your desk chair over behind you with a loud clatter. That startles you a second time, and you scream again, clutching at your chest and backing yourself against your bedroom wall, heart pounding.

Across the apartment, Namjoon shouts your name, his voice deep and commanding, clearly alarmed.

The dark presses in around you, little fingers on your ankles and arms. You can’t see anything - not your bed, not the chair on the floor, not your hand in front of your own face. The silence is suddenly so loud it throbs around you - the sudden lack of normal noise toying with your senses. You’ve never been in quiet like this - no hum from the refrigerator, the central air system, your devices. All you can hear is your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, the angry, relentless sound of rain, and the echo of Namjoon’s voice calling your name, playing back and looping through your mind so loudly that it’s almost like you’re hearing it again.

You are hearing it again - his alarmed voice cuts through the darkness, calling your name with a little bit of an edge, a tinge of fear this time.

“I’m here,” you manage, your voice coming out like a gasp.

From the living room, you can see a small point of light coming rapidly closer, and then Namjoon appears in your doorway, guided by his cell phone’s flashlight. He seems a little out of breath as he pauses in the doorway, taking in the scene before him - you pressed against the wall, a hand still pressed to your racing heart, the chair askew on the floor, the rain pelting the window like it wants to break the glass.

Once he can see that you’re unharmed, Namjoon clicks his phone off, and you both let your eyes adjust. In the dark, everything various shades of black, his shape seems so large, taking up so much of your vision. He steps around the chair, not bothering to right it, and stops about two feet from you.

“I think a transformer blew out there,” he says, his voice odd, like most of his brain isn’t even aware that he’s speaking.

Two feet from him, your hands itch to reach out and touch him. Your feet beg to close the space between you. Your heart continues to throw itself against your ribcage, furious and demanding to be heard. The darkness takes its tiny fingers off your limbs, presses guiding fingertips to your back instead, nudging you forward.

If you’re going over the edge anyway, isn’t it better to jump than to fall?

Two feet from him, in the most profound darkness and silence you’ve ever experienced in your life, you find yourself nearly gasping for each breath as you fight your body’s every urge.

A line of St. Vincent Millay’s poetry leaps into your head, unbidden:

in me alone survive the unregenerate passions of a day when treacherous queens, with death upon the tread heedless and willful, took their knights to bed

Heedless and willful, you jump, crossing the space in a single stride. Namjoon’s hands coming to your waist like he was waiting for you.

He can kiss you only for a moment before he’s interrupted by you tugging his shirt up; he breaks away from you to pull it the rest of the way off and tosses it behind him, coming back to attach his mouth to your neck, sucking and kissing a line down to your collarbone. You run your hands along his chest, over his pecs, down his stomach, up his sides, your head thrown back to make room for him as he nips and soothes at your throat.

He groans happily as you dip your fingers towards the waistband of his jeans, then tugs bossily at your own shirt. You peel it off, dropping it to your feet, and move to kiss him again, but he’s busy reaching around your back and deftly pinching the clasp of your bra. It falls away, and you shake the straps loose from your arms, hearing it hit the ground. Cold air assaults your chest only a second before Namjoon’s large hands cup you, his mouth searing against yours out of nowhere.

Everything’s heightened in this total dark, total silence. You can hear every hitch of his breath, the thud of your own pulse, can feel every tiny movement of his hands, of his mouth. He toys lightly with your nipples, running his fingers in circles around them before plucking at them lightly, then abandoning your chest to run his hands over all the newly uncovered skin - your stomach, your back, your arms.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I’ve thought so the whole fucking time, you’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t think straight sometimes.”

“Namjoon,” you gasp quietly, half a reaction to his words and half a reaction to him gripping the waistband of your joggers and pulling them down over your ass in one motion. You kick them off and he walks you backwards to your bed, pushing at your shoulders until you fall backwards. You hear his zipper as he removes his jeans, and when he climbs up next to you on the bed you can feel but not see him straining against his boxer-briefs.

He brings his mouth to a nipple without warning, giving it one experimental lick and taking it between his lips when you whine in appreciation. You can feel yourself getting impossibly wet as he alternates licking and sucking, and his spare hand rubs circles down your body until he reaches the lace edge of your underwear, and he pauses. It’s the first time tonight he’s shown any hesitation.

He removes his mouth from your breast and moves back up where he can kiss you. His fingers skim the lace, a ghost of a touch, barely there.

“You good, baby?” he murmurs, so low, and you feel yourself clench - over the timbre of his voice or his cocky use of the pet name, you’re not sure. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Touch me. Please.”

It’s wild how dark it is, how you can’t see anything on his face, can’t see which way he’s moving; the dark seems like it’s pressing in around you, like it’s the very thing shielding you from the onslaught of rain that you can still hear loud and clear.

Namjoon’s fingers skim over your slit so lightly it almost tickles, and you squirm, needing more. He presses harder on his second pass through, pressing the lace against your entrance. He moans when he feels how wet you are even through your panties, pressing himself harder against your leg as he swipes his fingers through again. Then he’s hooking his thumbs under the waistband and pulling your panties down your legs, cupping your sex with his whole hand.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers hoarsely, and presses his middle finger into your heat up to the last knuckle. You suck in a breath, fingers curling in your bedspread, as he fucks you that way - middle finger only - for the barest of minutes before adding a second digit.

“God,” you groan, feeling yourself stretch to accommodate it. “Damn it.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You’re so wet, what the fuck.” He’s right - you can hear it each time he pushes back into you. Your back arches, your body trying to press his fingers even deeper. When his thumb grazes your clit, you gasp out loud.

He swallows the rest of your noises with a kiss as he continues, and when the crest of your orgasm snaps a few minutes later you moan messily into his mouth as his fingers fuck you through it, steady and unyielding.

“Holy shit,” he groans when you clench around his fingers as the waves hit you. “That’s right, baby, fuck.”

You’re reaching for his briefs the second you’re back in your body, down from your high, and he pulls his fingers from you gently to help wiggle them over his hips and off his body. You slide your hand over him lightly and he hisses through his teeth as you wrap your fingers around him and rub him base to tip, sliding your palm over the wet head of his cock, using his own pre-cum to slick up your hand as you continue.

He’s hot in your hand, bigger than you’d expected, and you revel in listening to his light moans turn breathy as you toy with him. Finally, he grabs your wrist, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Should I go get a condom?” he asks, voice so low it’s almost a growl.

“I have some,” you tell him, rolling away from him and sliding your nightstand drawer open. You lay on your stomach so you can use both hands to rip a new one from the strip, and Namjoon rises to his knees behind you, one hand tracing the curve of your ass.

You reach over your shoulder to hand him the foil packet, and you’re startled by his phone light again when he turns it on so he can see what he’s doing. His phone lays on the bed, illuminating him from below, and you take a minute to take in how good he looks. You’d had no idea he had that body under his sweaters and baggy t-shirts.

He turns the light off again, the darkness surprising you with its intensity all over again. Your eyes are so busy trying to adjust again that you miss him moving until you feel his hands guiding you to lay back, his legs stretching between yours, his tip prodding your entrance as his lips find yours again.

“You’re okay?” he checks in a whisper, reaching down and squeezing himself at the base.

You kiss him in answer, pressing your core against him, letting your body tell him yes, I’m fine, yes, I’m ready.

He rocks into you slowly, an inch at a time, and the sensation tears a low, long groan from you. It mingles with his own; he breathes through his mouth in short pants, tinged with half-formed moans, until he bottoms out and he stills.

“Give me just a second,” you request, whispering, and he nods, running a hand reverently down your face, down your side, coming to rest under your ass, hitching you up slightly as he adjusts. You hiss as the movement forces him just a touch deeper as you struggle to relax.

He kisses you again, deeply and sweetly, and as you grip his shoulders and feel yourself relax, you start to move, little bits at a time.

“Okay,” you whisper, when you’re ready. “Thanks.”

He scoffs, like it’s ridiculous of you to be thanking him, but he starts to move. It’s slow, and even though you can barely see him you get the feeling that his eyes are on you. In the amplified silence, each breath seems to echo between you, each tiny moan or hitch of breath coming through loud and clear. You kiss sloppily, your hands exploring as he keeps the slow rhythm. His cockhead drags against you, the feeling agonizingly sweet, and you arch against him, trying to bring him closer.

The rain beats against the windows in waves as he fucks you slowly, like it wants in, like it has a score to settle. You press fingertips gently to Namjoon’s face, blindly feeling your way to the flat of his cheekbone, down to his jaw. Everything feels so intense, your fingers shake a little as they trace his jawline, reverent.

“Namjoon,” you whisper, and he answers you by sheathing himself completely, pressing his mouth to yours, and doubling the pace. He’s so large, it feels like he’s everywhere - inside you, around you, above you, everywhere.

You cry out when he finds an angle that has you seeing stars with each stroke, and he grunts, working hard to keep hitting it the same way. You lock your legs around the back of his thighs, trying to keep him close. You cling to his shoulder with one hand and tangle the other in his hair, holding tight as he pounds into you. When he feels you start to pulse around him, the beginning of an orgasm starting to build up, he actually laughs, once.

“Close, baby?” he asks, reaching down to press his thumb against your clit.

“Y-yeah,” you gasp, the feeling of electricity racing clear down to your toes. “Joon, please, oh - god -.”

He hums, pleased, and shifts you so he’s holding you up by the hips, the angle changing just slightly.

“Ohmygod, yes,” you cry, and the circles he’s been rubbing into your clit suddenly send you flying, your eyes screwing shut, a single, wordless wail leaving you as every muscle in your body goes taut.

“Fuck,” Namjoon hisses as you squeeze around him, dropping his forehead onto yours and gasping your name as he spills into the condom inside you. He pumps into you a few more times as your muscles relax by degrees, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

You lay tangled together for a few minutes, both breathing hard. Namjoon slips out of you gingerly and shifts like he’s going to get up. You kiss him quickly, before he can get too far, and he stills, letting you.

When you’re content, he disappears into the bathroom, dealing with the condom and cleaning up. He returns with a damp cloth for you, turning the light on his phone back off again when you’re done.

In the total darkness, he pulls you close. You rest your head against his chest, his arms around you, and listen to his heart. Despite the storm and the power-outage, you’ve never felt so safe. You can’t imagine ever feeling anything else while he’s wrapped around you like this.

“You called me baby,” you tease after a little while, and he snickers.

“It just slips out,” he laments, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Sex makes me… affectionate. I have trouble untangling the two.”

You hum against him. “I think I like that,” you observe, and he hugs you a little tighter.

You’re starting to drift off when he says your name again.

“Hm?”

“I promise this isn’t the post-sex chemicals talking,” he says carefully. “But I wanted you to know. I think… I’m really falling for you.”

You press your lips together, wrap an arm around his middle and hold him close. Your chest feels like it’s caving in, your eyes suddenly burn, you can’t inhale.

Because you’ve felt it, too. And you don’t know what to do with it.

He takes your silence the wrong way. “You don’t have to - don’t feel pressure to say anything -.”

“No,” you say quickly. “I promise, it’s very much not that. I’ve… maybe been thinking the same thing. It’s just… scary. You know?”

He presses his lips to the top of your head. “Yeah,” he says. “It can be. But I’m here. We’re in it together, okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tangling your feet in his legs, searching for a warm spot for your chilly toes. “Okay.”

Sunday December 2nd

The lights come on hours before dawn, your lamp illuminating the room in a yellow glow, your laptop dinging as it starts to receive charge again, your alarm clock numbers flashing 12:00 over and over again. You lay there, still, coming to your senses by degrees.

Namjoon is still in bed with you; you can feel his body, warm and solid, behind you. Minutes pass and it becomes clear by his steady deep breathing that the lights aren’t going to wake him up. You roll slowly, trying not to disturb him. He’s sleeping on his back, his face turned away from you, one arm flung up over his head. You feel yourself smile as you look at him.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that you want this, that you want him - wholly, completely, without boundaries or limitations. There’s not a doubt in your mind that the way he treats you - the way he gives you such openness and understanding, the way he listens and asks questions, the way he hears you and cares for you - is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. When you’re with him, you feel like he’s by your side, like he’s got you.

And while Taehyung had been physically next to you for the last seventeen or so years of your life, it’s never felt like this.

You scoot closer, lining your body up against his side, and reach an arm over his stomach, pulling yourself as tight to him as you can and laying your head on his chest. In his sleep, he shifts, sensing the difference, the arm that was over his head coming down over your back and pulling you in. Then his head lolls back to your side, his eyelids fluttering. He reaches to press a kiss to the top of your head, and then flops back down against your pillow.

“Lights’re back?” he tries to ask, the words slurring together with sleep.

“Mhm,” you answer. “Do you want me to get up and turn the lamp off?”

“No,” he says, voice low and scratchy. “Stay.” Then he reaches over, guiding your chin up gently so he can lean down and kiss you again.

You open for him immediately, leaning up on an elbow to reach him better. It’s different this time - slow and sensual, explorative, relaxed. There’s no rush, no pressure for it to go further. His fingers run through your hair once, twice, then release it, skimming down your bare back instead. You realize with a shiver that you hadn’t gotten up to find pajamas in the dark.

He keeps you warm anyway, his hands roaming your back, your arms, your ass, your back again. You have a lot of things you want to tell him, but you save them, store them for later, as your body responds to his touch and you give yourself to him again. When he pants your name against your lips you feel the words bubbling up inside you, beating against doors to be let out, but you lose them along with your senses when he tips you over the edge again.

You clean up better after this time, waddling to the bathroom to pee and then stopping at your dresser to pull out pajamas. Namjoon hovers near your bed, clearly unsure if he should head to his own side of the apartment or not.

You scoff at him, like he should know better. “Get back in that bed,” you demand teasingly, and he listens, running a hand through his messy hair and looking around like he’s a little dazed, a little unsure of how he got here.

You click the lamp off and make your way back to him.

He wraps his arms around you immediately, and you eventually fall asleep matching your breaths to his slow ones.

Wednesday December 5th

I know my many failings I just can’t be the girl I should But I hope you know despite this In my life, you’re everything good

It’s certainly not good writing, and you have zero intention of turning this in for anything - zero intention of another living soul ever seeing it. But it feels good to put the words to paper.

You close the notebook when Gloria and another girl from class join your table. You’ve been assigned the task of workshopping your classmates’ portfolios as the semester crawls to a close, and today you’re meant to sit around and talk through your notes with each other.

“I want to go first,” you say immediately. “Gloria, you are out of your mind.”

Gloria beams, knowing exactly what you’re referring to.

“Catch me up?” the third girl, Sharmin, asks.

“Gloria’s entire portfolio is in iambic pentameter,” you tell her dryly. “Honestly, Gloria, I’ve got to know why.”

Gloria giggles. “Okay, okay - it really was just for the challenge. Like, it’s super great that poetry is all no rules but sometimes the challenge of saying what you’re trying to say within the framework of existing rules is… kind of fun?”

“I shall call you The Bard. Or maybe Bardess,” you joke.

The three of you move on to discuss the actual content of Gloria’s portfolio and then Sharmin’s - asking questions, noting lines you really liked, pointing out patterns and themes and hedging guesses on their meanings.

Finally, it’s your turn.

“Your voice is really sharp,” Sharmin compliments you. “I mean… maybe I don’t mean sharp. Clear? Crisp? Something like that.”

“I thought so too,” Gloria agrees. She pulls up a document on her laptop, referring to some notes she took. “I also noticed - and really liked - that while your topics were all different from each other, you had this recurring theme of life and death.”

You stare at her blankly. “I do?”

She gives you a sideways smile; it’s not uncommon for you two to pick things up in each other’s writing that you hadn’t noticed.

“Sure,” she says, and her finger goes to her screen as she reads a few examples, “Who would try to fight the tide, / the dark, the depth, the chill? That’s from your first one.

“Then, the second one: On Sundays I leave stones / atop marble markers to memorialize / those that you and I chose / to leave unturned. That whole entire poem is about a graveyard, so, yeah.”

“Oh! And your latest one!” Sharmin adds. “Where you’re, like, growing bones in your chest?”

You cover your face. “It sounds so dumb like that.”

But even as you’re speaking, other lines spring into your head:

Autumn leaves me hollow.

but my feet itch and beg to go, / into the night where the wolfpack hunts, / into the storm of wind and snow.

Nothing grows here that isn’t dead.

Gloria’s right. You do have a recurring theme about death.

You hadn’t realized. You hadn’t known you were weaving this single thread through everything you put to paper.

What you did know, the part you were aware of was that every one of those poems was about Taehyung.

You press your fingers over your mouth and take a slow, steadying breath. Somehow, everything hurts. It feels like you’re coming apart. It feels like your sutures have been cut too soon as you wrestle with this truth laid out for you:

Every metaphor you ever wrote with Taehyung in mind was somehow connected to death.

Like something inside you knew, long before you did, that whatever was between you was dead before it started.

Like something inside you knew that no matter how many words you devoted to him, you could never breathe life into it.

Like something in you knew the situation had a failure to thrive from the very beginning.

“And life?” you finally manage to ask through your fingers. But you already know every line you wrote about what comes next, about moving forward, about better possibilities.

If autumn can’t make me happy, / I wonder if winter might.

I know despite the dangers, / I can’t afford to stay inside.

This one, they say, will live.

And, most recently - that the girls hadn’t even seen, in my life, you’re everything good.

You didn’t need someone to point these lines out to you. You knew exactly what you’d been writing about - Namjoon, and the way his very presence seemed to represent the promise of something better.

–

You hustle home after class, walking so fast that you actually get your heart-rate up. Inside, you drop your bag on the ground and call Namjoon’s name, crossing the living room.

“Yeah?” he calls back, turning at his desk, but you’ve already entered his room, approaching him at a clip.

He’s got about a hundredth of a second to look surprised before you’re kissing him, hands coming up to cup his face firmly. He leans up to meet you, grunting with happy surprise, his hands coming to rest on your forearms.

When you break away, he smiles at you quizzically. “What was that for?”

You shake your head, indicating that you know your reasons are silly. “Because I wanted to,” you tell him truthfully. “Because I like you, and I missed you today, and….”

And you’re everything good.

“And I’m just… happy to be with you,” you finish lamely, nibbling with your bottom lip, a nervous habit.

He slides one hand down your arm and takes your hand. His smile softens from something teasing into something sweet, those dimples winking at you.

“Well,” he says, looking up at you, “speaking of how much you like me… you don’t have class on Friday, right? What about work?”

Friday is a day off at the university - some kind of training day for staff.

“Nope,” you say. “Kris is on, not me. Why, what’s happening?”

Namjoon’s hand goes to the back of his neck. “I, uh,” he says, a little bashfully, “I wanted to take you out. Like, for the day. On a date. I had some ideas.”

You press your lips together, trying to fight back the smile that’s breaking across your face.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice coming out small. “That sounds really nice. On Friday?”

“Mhm,” he says, his smile growing cockier now that you’ve said yes. “Wear comfortable shoes. And something warm - it’s supposed to snow a little.”

You’re still practically fighting the pleased smile off your face with a broom. “Okay, I will,” you tell him. You feel like you need to get out of there so you can squeal and hop around and maybe text Kris. “I’m gonna go change. Come hang out if you want?”

You tap his wall twice in goodbye and head to your room, closing the door while you change into sweatpants and a hoodie. You’re aware that he’s seen you naked now, but it still feels necessary. You text Kris as you change, and they send you back a row of exclamation points and a “#TeamDimples!”. You send them back an eye-roll and head to the living room couch.

–

[5:22 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’m going into the city friday to do some holiday shopping [5:22 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: you in? [5:23 PM] You: i have plans already :( i’m sorry [5:25 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: we could come back early [5:26 PM] You: my thing’s all day :( [5:29 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: ok [5:30 PM] You: sorry tete :( [5:34 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: it’s fine. dinner tonight? [5:35 PM] You: only if i dont have to walk my ass back to campus… [5:37 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: youre such a complainer 🙄 [5:37 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’ll pick you up

You chew on your pinky nail, staring at your phone screen. Do you need to see if Namjoon has dinner plans? Do you need his permission to go eat with Taehyung?

You don’t know the rules to this middle-ground you’re in.

But in light of everything you figured out today, you err on the safe side.

Namjoon’s in the kitchen, opening a beer by the sound of it. When he wanders back through the living room, you catch his eye.

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately. You must look worried.

“Is it… um… Taehyung wants to grab dinner on campus. Are you - can - ?”

Understanding dawns on Namjoon’s face, and he comes over, sitting on the couch next to you and setting his beer on the coffee table.

“You don’t need to ask me before you spend time with your friends,” he says seriously. “Even that friend. You said you’re in this… so, I trust you.”

It’s such a simple thing, but it almost chokes you up. “Okay,” you whisper, so your voice won’t break. “And you’ll be okay? You can order or something?”

“I fed myself for years before we lived together,” he reminds you gently.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling a little foolish. “So, I’ll see you after dinner?”

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be here,” he promises.

–

At dinner, surrounded by noisy groups of other students, you and Taehyung each pick at your plates, chatting in between bites.

Finally, as you scrape some sauce absently around your plate, he shoots you a baleful look. “I’ve really missed you lately,” he says, voice low.

Your stomach sinks. “I’ve been here, Taehyung,” you protest. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

“I know,” he says. “I know that. It just feels like we don’t talk as much anymore.”

You twist your lips to the side. There’s truth to what he’s saying, and you know it.

“If you want to talk to me, talk to me,” you insist. “Nothing’s different.”

He looks at you flatly. “You know that isn’t true.”

“I love you, Tete,” you tell him, and it’s the first time you’ve said it to him without feeling like you’re hiding layers, slipping secrets between the vowels. “I’m right here. I promise.”

He purses his lips, looks away from you. “What’s new with you?” he asks, finally. He must have been thinking about how little he’s asked you that, over the past few months, how happy he was to let you exist just outside his orbit. “Have you heard from Lin lately?”

You fill him in on what you can - Lin, Kris and the bookstore, even finally telling him a bit about your thesis work on St. Vincent Millay’s anthology. He tells you about a fight he had with Jimin, about how he almost failed a required biology class this semester, how his mom had the flu last week but is doing better now.

He doesn’t mention dating, so neither do you.

The guilt eats at you all night long, even after you’ve gone to bed. You lay in the dark, your stomach hurting with it.

You’re not sure if you feel bad because you and Taehyung aren’t supposed to keep secrets, or if it’s because you know you’ve done Namjoon wrong by keeping quiet.

Both, you decide sometime around two in the morning. You text Namjoon, “are you asleep?” He answers almost immediately, “almost. you ok?”

You brace yourself and send, “can i come over there?”

When he sends back, “please do” you grab your phone charger and make your way across the dark living room, lit only by the streetlights outside. You make your way into Namjoon’s room, into his bed, into his embrace. You fall asleep between his arms, feeling entirely like the least deserving person alive.

Friday December 7th

You follow Namjoon’s directions on Friday, wearing something warm, and sneakers. But when you head for the kitchen in the morning - he’d told you to be ready early - there’s no Namjoon in sight.

“Namjoon?” you call through the quiet apartment. “Hello?”

There’s no answer. You pull out your phone, ready to text him, when you hear footsteps and then the jangle of keys outside the front door.

Namjoon comes in sideways, shouldering the door open, a tray with two coffees in his hand.

“I tried to get back before you were up,” he says sheepishly.

“We have coffee here,” you say in answer, trying to catch up to whatever is going on.

He gives you a mischievous smile. “We have a train to catch. We needed them to be to-go. You ready?”

It’s cold out; you’re immediately glad for your big puffy coat and the scarf around your neck. You walk with your hot coffee in one hand and Namjoon’s hand in your other. The walk to the train station is only minutes, and soon you’re standing on the platform, peering in the direction that the train should come in from. When the wind picks up, you scoot closer to Namjoon, scavenging for body heat. He smiles down at you and gives your hand a squeeze.

When the train rushes in and the doors slide open, Namjoon lets you go first as you step out of the cold and head down the corridor, looking for two empty seats. You find one in the second car you walk through, and you slide over to the window seat. You both settle in, rearranging heavy coats and coffee cups.

“How long are we on for?” you ask Namjoon. He’s refused to tell you anything about the day, wanting it to all be a surprise.

“Around half an hour,” he tells you, and offers you an earpod. Quiet beats fill your ear as the train starts to move, buildings rushing past faster and faster until they give way to the browns and greens of less urban areas.

Namjoon taps your thigh when your stop comes, and you slide out and follow him towards the doors and back into the sharp, December air.

“Where are we?” you ask, as the train pulls away. Namjoon waves a hand at the train station’s sign, which reads the name of a quiet town west of your university. You’ve never been here before, but you know of it.

Namjoon leads you by the hand away from the train station and towards town. You spend the morning ducking in and out of little niche shops, a few art galleries, and one extremely cluttered antique store just for the hell of it. You talk the whole time - pointing out funny items, telling stories when something sparks a memory, joking and laughing quietly.

Around lunchtime, you stop on the sidewalk. Snow flurries drift down around you; not enough to stick, just enough to get caught in hair and eyelashes.

“What do you feel like eating?” he asks you, blowing on his fingers to warm them. “There are actually a lot of decent options along here.”

“Somewhere warm,” you joke, and he gives you an indulgent smile. Then he wraps an arm around your shoulders as you continue up the street, reading a few menus until you settle on a little cafe. You share a hot meal, watching the snow fall lazily outside.

“What else do you have planned?” you ask curiously, as you finish up eating.

“One more stop,” he says. “It’s the piece de resistance of the day.”

“Ooh,” you say, eyes wide. “Can’t wait.”

Namjoon pays and you zip yourselves back into your coats, heading back into the snow. He leads you, to your surprise, off the main strip and down a narrow side-street. A weathered sign swings in the winter wind, the paint so chipped and peeled that you can’t read it anymore.

He pulls the door open and holds it for you as you step through the threshold of the most beautiful antique bookstore you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, my gosh,” you whisper, reverent, eyes scanning the walls of shelves, the tables, the stuffed armchairs.

“I know you love books as much as I do,” Namjoon’s low voice says, close to your ear. “I wasn’t sure if you love old books as much as I do.”

“I do,” you breathe, running a hand just above the covers of the displayed novels to your right.

You walk together through the display tables, deeper into the belly of the shop. The register is currently unmanned, a little bell on the counter meant to summon whoever operates it.

“I have an idea,” you say to Namjoon, looking over your shoulder to smile up at him. “Let’s play a game?”

One of his eyebrows jumps. “What kind of game?”

A giggle erupts from you, and you try to stifle it. “Not that kind. Let’s shop alone. I’ll pick out three for you, you pick out three for me. Then we can meet back here in… twenty minutes? Or so? Then we can swap.”

Namjoon’s smile is open and wide, practically taking up his whole face. “I like it. Twenty minutes? I’ll set a timer on my phone.”

You go in separate directions as you browse. At one point you have six books in your arms, and you stop and set them down, examining their spines for which you should keep and which you should put back. The smell of old pages permeates the air, along with something Christmas-y - pine, maybe a touch of peppermint. You make your way further into the store, climbing a set of open, metal stairs that lead to a balcony of sorts, with more shelves at the top.

You can see Namjoon down below, crouching next to a shelf, his finger tracing the spines of the books on the bottom shelf, clearly looking for something specific. You smile softly, watching him. Then you bustle on to the next section you’re interested in.

When your phone buzzes in your pocket that your twenty minutes are up, you make your way back down to the spot you’d chosen to meet back up. You hold the books behind your back, smiling.

He does the same. “Trade on three?” he asks. “One… two… three!”

You hand him the stack and he hands his books over to you. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you read the titles. You’d both done the same thing without knowing - one fiction, one non-fiction, one poetry.

“I think we spend too much time together,” Namjoon jokes, faking solemnity.

“Agreed,” you say, grinning up at him. “What do you say we buy what we want to buy and go across to that coffee shop to read?” You point out the window, eyeing the coffee shop across the street.

“I like this plan,” he tells you happily, and takes your hand to lead you to the register.

The coffee shop is a good choice - it’s got a fireplace on one wall, and you and Namjoon manage to score a small table not too far from the circle of warmth. Just as he had on the train, he hands you an earpod, and you spend several hours easily - chatting some, reading, watching the snow out the window.

You haven’t felt this at peace, this understood by somebody, perhaps ever in your life.

It gets dark early, making it feel late at night when it’s still early evening. Namjoon holds you close as you walk back down main street, back in the direction of the train station. Halfway down the block he stops, looking down at you, something warm in his gaze.

“What?” you ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t answer, just leans down to kiss you sweetly, his thumb stroking your jaw whisper-soft.

You’re sleepy the second you sit down on the train. You lean against Namjoon’s shoulder, eyes heavy. You’re not sure if you actually drift off or not, when Namjoon gasps beside you.

“What?” you ask, sitting back up. He looks back at you, eyes wide, clearly horrified. “What? What happened?”

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out, eyes flashing to his phone and then back to you. The panic in his voice is evident. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” you repeat, feeling your own nerves start to tingle.

“I texted the wrong group chat…” he says quietly, still sounding horrified. “Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry. I thought it was the one with only Yoongi and Hobi…”

He turns his screen to show you. The groupchat is clearly the one with all the guys, the bubbles at the top numerous.

[6:02 PM] Hoseok: Namjoon you’ve been quiet all day

[6:03 PM] Hoseok: what’s the story?

[6:05 PM] Namjoon: took y/n on a date today to that antique bookstore 😊

[6:09 PM] Seokjin: wait….. taehyung’s y/n?

[6:09 PM] Jungkook: OOP-

Your stomach sinks. “Oh, my god,” you say, eyes on his phone screen.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, sounding pained.

“No, it’s okay,” you say automatically, even though it probably isn’t. You take a deep breath, rub a hand over your face. “He was going to find out eventually. And, honestly, I didn’t want it to be a secret forever, you know? This isn’t… this is real, it’s not a stupid friends-with-benefits thing, it deserves to… be.”

You trail off, not sure what you mean, but Namjoon leans forward, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“I’m still sorry,” he murmurs into your hair.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “It really is.”

On your lap, your phone buzzes.

[6:12 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: wow.

Sunday December 9th

You try for two days to get Taehyung to answer you. He ignores text after text, call after call.

On the first day, you feel terrible. You’re sure he’s feeling betrayed, confused, hurt.

By the second day, you’re pissed.

[9:57 PM] You: taehyung, please talk to me

[11:08 PM] You: tete. please?

[12:33 AM] You: seriously, can you answer?

[9:41 AM] You: morning. Can we talk today please?

[2:12 PM] You: the silent treatment’s getting old. Pick up.

[5:57 PM] You: i’d LIKE to apologize to you in person but its kind of hard when you’re ignoring me!!!

[8:49 PM] You: fine, i’ll do it this way [8:54 PM] You: i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you found out that way. [8:56 PM] You: for what it’s worth, we aren’t like…… officially official or anything [8:57 PM] You: it’s been heading that way, yeah, but…. not yet [8:59 PM] You: i think… telling you would have made it realer, and i didn’t know if it was real enough for that yet [9:03 PM] You: and if i’m being honest… i didn’t know how to tell you

[9:32 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: can i come over

Relief floods through you so heavy that you exhale everything inside you, eyes closing, head sagging towards your chest, the hand holding your phone going limp. Namjoon looks over at you from his side of the couch.

“He answered?” he asks.

“He’s coming over,” you confirm, typing in an answer to Taehyung. “You don’t mind, right? I owe him some answers.”

“No,” he says evenly. “I don’t mind. Do you want me to… I mean, I’m just thinking of when I talked with Elyse. Would me being there… help? Or make it worse?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “It’d help me tremendously,” you admit. “But I think it’d make it worse for him. Thank you, though. I appreciate the thought.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and reaches out to give your hand a squeeze. “Well, you know where to find me.”

Outside, the December night is cold, but dry, the air tickling your throat on its way to and from your lungs.

“Listen,” you say softly. You and Taehyung are sitting side by side, a foot apart, on the stairs in front of your apartment. The stone step feels like a slab of absolute ice underneath you, but you can’t care about that right now. “I’m sorry it happened like this. I was trying… I was trying not to let anything change between us.”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, just stares at the road. From the side, you can see the tightness in his face, the clench of his jaw, the movement of his throat as he swallows. You’ve known him almost your whole life. You can read him like a book.

He’s hurting.

He’s trying to pretend he’s not.

“I mean,” you continue, your heart aching, “you never tell me about your girls.”

“That’s different,” he croaks.

“How?” you ask softly. “How is this different?”

“I wasn’t actually dating any of them,” he says.

It’s not the whole reason, and you both know it.

“So, what is this?” he asks. “Is he your boyfriend now?” He positively sneers the word.

This stops you. You don’t know how to answer. Technically, no. But essentially… yes. You just hadn’t talked it through yet. “He… I…”

Taehyung stands suddenly, shoves his hands in his pockets, paces to the curb and back. “Well?” he demands, facing you. The hurt is practically dropping from him, and you’re reeling to fight the instinct to make it better, reeling trying to determine at lightning speed if you’ve actually done something wrong.

“Not technically,” you whisper.

He stands there, surrounded by the dark, staring you down, his face more serious than you’ve ever seen it. You stand too, taking a few steps to stop before him.

“What does this mean for us?” Taehyung asks. His voice breaks on ‘us’. “What are we now?”

You reach out, fingers skimming along his arm, wanting to comfort. “Taehyung, it doesn’t mean anything for us. We’ll be the same as we’ve always been.”

You watch it cross his face as he decides to make you prove it, but you don’t have enough time to react before he’s doing the thing you’d day-dreamed of time after time after time - before you knew Namjoon. He’s closing the gap between you, his hand curling in the fabric of your jacket, his lips finding yours, searching for something that three months ago he probably would have found.

–

Upstairs, Namjoon can’t let go of the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He can’t get that day with Elyse out of his head - how his eyes had found yours and he’d felt steady, had literally felt the fist of anxiety loosen on his lungs. What if you needed him out there? Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He crosses the living room and peeks out the window, just to gauge how it’s going - he’s sure he can read your expression or your body language enough to tell if you’re okay or not.

He leans over, looking out, and the blood in his arms and legs turns in an instant to ice.

Outside on the sidewalk, you’re kissing Taehyung. His dark hair hangs over your face, where one of his hands rests. Your bodies are impossibly close together, seeming to meld into one in the shadows.

He stumbles away from the window, trying to get away from it, but the image burns in his brain. He makes his way blindly back towards his bedroom. His heart pounds, and he finds himself nauseous, his eyes suddenly burning like he’s walked through smoke.

“Fuck,” he hisses, punching his doorframe. Then he slams his door shut, and locks it for good measure.

He should’ve known, he thinks. He should’ve seen this coming from day one.

Elyse had made him feel stupid, yeah.

But it was nothing like this.

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