#other than the way In Guk is serving with his wardrobe (and the way it is causing me to double down on the Minho resemblance)

[theinfinitedivides]

waiting for both new eps of Heartbeat to drop so i'm binging Café Minamdang in the meanwhile and i am cryinggggg why is this so f*cking funny

[moodring89]

[Taegi] Espresso Marmalade Ch.3

Pairing: Taehyung / Yoongi (ft. side Jikook) Rated: M / NC-17 Genre: BDSM!AU Tags: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Tae, Shibari, Master/Slave, Canes, Impact Play       Summary: Jeongguk was more eager to get inside the club, taking long strides to the set of black steel doors. It was the younger’s idea to bring Taehyung to Void. Seoul’s first fetish house, an upscale BDSM parlor that was legally permitted and licensed. Or the one where Tae’s a meek virgin who catches the eye of Void’s most popular dom. Previous chapters: 01 , 02,

*Problem with the layout? Read on ao3 here.

Chapter Three: the Boy Who Lies It was a thirty minute drive to Void, giving Taehyung ample time to self-reflect on his anger, except he wasn’t going to do that. There was no pressing down on the brakes once he’d abandoned Jeongguk, dead set on breaking something precious of Jimin’s, a wrist, his pretty face, anything to placate the rage he felt then. He kept thinking back on that boy, Woozi – continuously, continuously, and continuously. How the audience took him in with some sort of cruel, refined amusement; how Taehyung himself had watched as he was punished, haunted by the fact that he’d liked it. Then he imagined Jeongguk in Woozi’s stead, being tortured in an open room because of his indiscretion. Honestly, he felt more like an overbearing parent than a friend at the moment. Taehyung was always an old soul, too judgmental at times and prone to being annoyingly willful. He wasn’t thinking of how this might hurt Jeongguk, how it might jeopardize whatever bullshit relationship he had with Jimin. It wasn’t real, anyway, right? Taehyung had seen it firsthand, existing in the red, angry lines across Jeongguk’s back. Love wasn’t supposed to be so fucking violent. It was one o’clock in the morning when Taehyung pulled up outside the club. Denizens were pouring in and out the doors. It was a busy night, apparently. He killed the ignition and stepped out into the cold air. He’d been in such a rush to leave the dormitory that he forgot to grab his coat. It hardly mattered with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the anger mixing with raw, nervous energy – warming him through. Taehyung was a storm; one that was ready to be unleashed. Just fucking watch him go. He threw open the doors to Void as if he owned the place. Taehyung was so focused on his current objective that he didn’t question a single, goddamn thing. No – the gentleman wearing a leather dog hood with mittens leashed by a fucking space demon, that – that was all well and dandy. The reception area was swarming with new patrons to one side and the regular check-ins on the other. Luckily, all Taehyung had to do was flash his ID due to his past visit being logged, and he was allowed entry. “Oh, gorgeous,” the woman behind the desk said – it was the same receptionist he’d met on his first night at Void. Tonight she wore a nametag that read, ‘Claire’. She leaned over the desk, her large, full set of breasts spilling over her forearms. “I knew you’d come back for more trouble.” Truer words… “It was hard to stay away,” Taehyung said, lying as easy as breathing when there was partial truth to it. “Can you tell me whether or not a specific scene professional is here right now?” She raised an inquisitive brow, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her pointed nose, “For an appointment or a show?” ‘For an ugly confrontation and an ass beating,’ Taehyung mused quietly to himself. “It’s about a question I have in regards to using a scarf as binding material for an over-arm tie. Do you know if Jimin is still around this evening?” “You drove here just for an inquiry?” Claire teased, tucking a hand beneath her chin, as though that was the most adorable thing to have happened, ever. In any case, she could tell that he was serious. “Jimin finished with his last appointment not too long ago.” The receptionist found it a little bit odd that Taehyung showed up within the same hour that his friend had left. “However, his shift doesn’t end for another twenty minutes. You can usually find him in the lounge area.” Taehyung said nothing else, wordlessly headed for the corridor that would bring him to the main room. Reflecting what he’d seen from outside alone, the club was packed, maybe even more so than it had been last week, except this time he didn’t have anyone with him. He was alone, a small fish swimming in an ocean of sharks. It didn’t matter to him that he was gaining looks, heads turning as he walked by. Then he remembered the unspoken dress code and realized that he was once again, sticking out like a sore thumb. Oh, goddamn it. He was wearing a baggy pair of black pants and one of his night shirts. The collar of it was beyond stretched out, exposing the pretty contours of his collarbones, the white fabric falling off one shoulder. He reached for his scarf and was coming up empty, cursing low when he realized that he’d left it in the car. Fuck it. He could deal with being openly stared at for a short while, his venture too important to abandon for a wardrobe malfunction. This wasn’t going to take long, anyway. All he had to do now was find his target. The lounge was more chaotic at this late hour, scenes unfolding like the first time Taehyung had attended, except they weren’t being performed on stages, but on ground level, and by the guests themselves while being supervised. It might be hopeless to find Jimin at this point, the room considerably less orderly, which meant it was more intimidating for Taehyung. He did a slow turn, taking in all that was around him – fighting not to get distracted while on the lookout for silver hair. The bar was completely full, all stools occupied, save for the black button tufted booths. The area was dimmed, the only light coming from small string lamps that illuminated the center of each table, leaving all else shrouded in darkness. Just when Taehyung was about ready to give in to despair, seated at the furthest booth, was Jimin. He was dressed in a hooded sweatshirt with his hair mostly concealed beneath it, wrapping his spit slickened lips around a glass of water. Alone. How opportunistic…Taehyung was a force that couldn’t be stopped at that point as he pushed his way through the crowd that separated them. All he could think about were the bruises, all deep and prominent across Jeongguk’s body. How glossy eyed and sad the younger had looked while he defended the asshole. Jimin sensed the boy’s presence before he saw him. Violence was a good way to end the night, he supposed, as he calmly placed his water down and out of the way. He knew that in about five seconds that he was going to be placed on top of the table. It was Jeongguk’s ‘bestie’ – the kid who’d already caused him enough grief. Taehyung was headed straight for him with the elder allowing it to happen. Jimin kept his arms at his sides when he was abruptly dragged up to his feet by Taehyung’s large hands twisting in the front of his shirt. The table rattled as he was roughly shoved into it. Taehyung was gorgeous, even while furious. Jimin could understand Yoongi a bit more from this angle, could see the appeal in every line of his devastating features, and he could feel the strength in the intensity of his trembling form. It incited Jimin’s own bout of anger – however, unlike Taehyung, he was able to manage it, “Taehyung-ssi, right? Do you not know how to hold a normal conversation?” “Normal conversations are meant for normal people, not for assholes like you. I’m so sick of hearing how much you care for Jeongguk, when you hurt him on whim. You hurt him because of me,” Taehyung said, voice oddly calm despite how clearly pissed off he was, pressing all of his weight into Jimin. “Wow, you really understand nothing, do you? You’re very wrong and I didn’t hurt him, because of you…although, you certainly didn’t help the case.” Jimin was tired of situations such as these. They happened so often in the form of ex-lovers, concerned family members, friends storming in like they were saviors. Ignorance at its finest, people so quick to judge, growing up with a set of beliefs, protected by their rose-colored glasses. They were sad, deluded people. “I gave Jeongguk exactly what he asked for and you’d know that if you cared enough to listen to him. Truth is, you’ve been a bad influence on my submissive, Taehyung-ssi.” Taehyung wondered what that meant, giving Jeongguk ‘exactly what he asked for’. It was unfathomable that Jeongguk thought this was love. Taehyung leaned in towards the elder, as if closeness served as some sort of dial for anger that he kept steadily cranking up, growing harsh, “Don’t talk about him like he’s some fucking pet of yours, because he isn’t. He’s my best friend, he’s a whole person, and you’re just a piece of shit looking for reasons to inflict pain on others.” “Oh, but Jeongguk is my pet,” Jimin murmured softly, bringing his face a mere inch away from Taehyung’s, invading what little that was left of his personal space as a subtle way of pushing back. “What are you going to do once he moves in with me? Picket outside my loft? He has a ways to go with his training, but it’s inevitable. So long as he wants me, I’m not letting him go. And I also think you owe it to yourself to admit that all of this makes you jealous.” Taehyung’s cheeks flushed at the accusation, actually livid. “It’s not like that with Guk.” “Not all jealousy has to be of the romantic sort,” Jimin said, as he slowly moved his hand to the fist still curled in his shirt, trying to gently coax Taehyung’s fingers open to release him. The boy didn’t budge. “Jeongguk has found himself. He knows what he wants, what he likes, but who are you? What is it that you want, Taehyung-ssi?” “What I want is to hurt you for what you did by breaking each of your fingers, so that you can never touch him again,” Taehyung managed to get out in one shaky, overwhelming breath. He felt himself slipping into that part of himself that he couldn’t control. His weakness was impulse, forever and always. One hand released Jimin in favor of reeling his arm back, imitating the elder’s sweet politeness, “I want to leave my own mark, ‘Jimin-ssi’.” Jimin could tell that the Taehyung’s fit of rage would not be easily settled or assuaged with neither words, nor logic. Right now Taehyung felt justified in raising his fist – Jimin knew that he couldn’t be stopped, at least not without using force. He didn’t need an upset submissive, especially now. Jimin looked him dead in the eye, “That’s an awful lot of greed for one boy. Luckily for you, I like to indulge. Go ahead.” What the hell was his problem? ‘Whatever,’ he thought, ‘open invitation or not, it’s still gonna feel good and right.’ Just as Taehyung came down to strike Jimin, an arm abruptly hooked around his own, preventing him from going any further. The monitor from the other night, Namjoon, had to use most of his strength to pull the boy off of him. Jimin released his white knuckled grip from the table, having been prepared for Taehyung to hit him, “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up.” Namjoon gave a healthy roll of his eyes, “Excuse me for having not yet mastered the art of teleportation. And you –” The monitor hadn’t been expecting to catch Taehyung’s fist square in the jaw, staggering back a couple steps. Fuck. Namjoon grunted at the discomfort, but was ready to defend himself, blocking Taehyung’s next swing, before delivering his own. He could hear the howls of laughter coming from his earpiece, Wonshik was rolling, “Ah, man! That was great…Good thing we got it all on film. I thought you were faster than that, hyung-nim, but nope. You suck and there’s comfort to be had there. Anyways, face recognition pulled up a one Kim Taehyung. He’s brand-spankin’ new.” “Not anymore he’s not,” Namjoon said, as he stared down at Taehyung, ignoring the ache in his lower jaw. The boy was sitting up on his elbows, watching the monitor from his spot on the floor where the blow had sent him. Taehyung’s lip was busted open, broad chest rising and falling, still worked up and seething mad. Namjoon didn’t like it – not one fucking bit, as he decided to put an end to it, “Kim Taehyung, I sentence you–” “Wait,” Jimin said, gently placing a hand on Namjoon’s forearm, stopping him before he could make Taehyung’s removal official. Once it was done, there would be no way of reversing it. “Before you do your song and dance, you should know that…” There was only one sure way of overriding a monitor’s power, “…this boy has a master.” It wasn’t the truth, but it was close enough. It might even help the little brat, Yoongi and Taehyung both. ‘Breathe, Jimin,’ Yoongi said, tearing his eyes away from the corridor that Taehyung and his little bunny friend had practically ran to make an escape down. The younger remained silent in the aftermath of Jeongguk’s outright display of disobedience. It’d felt like a slap in the face. He stared holes into the Persian carpet, searching for an explanation as to what had just transpired, since it made no sense at all.   ‘Jeongguk has never…’ Jimin murmured softly, voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t like him to get angry over such things. A dom had to always remain in control, especially of their own emotions. Right now, he was being woefully transparent. ‘He would never behave this way. Who the hell was that kid he was with, this ‘Taehyung’?’ Yoongi was amazed over the fact that Jimin had gone so long without a submissive being a huge fucking brat. He threw out the obvious as a friendly reminder, ‘When a sub acts out, it’s rarely unintentional. They want to see what they can get away with, how far they can push you, since that’s when a dom is most expressive. You should give your bunny what he so desperately wants from you…’ ‘Jeongguk is in love with me. So, he’d want a great deal more than what I’m capable of giving to him,’ Jimin said, unsure of why it hadn’t felt wrong to expose something so intimate to Yoongi. The elder was a seasoned professional, one who’d probably been in the same situation multiple times before. Maybe that was it. ‘I’ve known for a few weeks now, but it’s starting to get intense.’ ‘He’s young and also new to the community.’ Yoongi shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, tired, and freezing in a perfectly warm room. He shrugged with a show of nonchalance, ‘Of course he’s in love with you. Wait–he wasn’t a virgin, was he?’ Jimin was almost offended by the question. He shook his head, much to the elder’s relief, ‘Come now, I’m not that stupid. The only thing with that is, he never enjoyed his past sexual experiences, and he always topped. I guess I’m his first in a different way.’ ‘Christ. Be careful, especially if you don’t plan on reciprocating his feelings. Although, if you ever decide to go there with him I wouldn’t judge you for it, and I’d personally knock the teeth out of anyone who did,’ Yoongi said honestly, having personally been faced with that battle. If Jimin denied how he felt right now, he’d call him a fucking liar. It was obvious that he was taken with his rope bunny. ‘I now fully understand why you stopped taking submissives into your care.’ Jimin hadn’t meant to say that, the regret already settling into a frown on his face. He enjoyed taking care of someone. Jimin also loved being needed by others. He looked over at Yoongi, taking in the hint of amusement there, a faded look of fondness that was usually lost on him. ‘Unless you were rethinking your retirement?’ ‘Taehyung is a boy who’s lost…’ It wasn’t that simple, it hardly ever was. Taehyung was absolutely stunning, a burning flame, the sun personified. After only two seconds of meeting, Yoongi could tell that he was fucking complicated. ‘…he’s a boy who lies to himself.’ Jimin raised a brow, wondering if he should be concerned, or intrigued. ‘It doesn’t sound like you’re all that put off by it.’ ‘That’s probably because I’m not.’ Yoongi peered over at Jimin seriously, taking in his look of surprise. ‘Should Taehyung return, I’ll make him mine.’ “Oh, the fuck I do,” Taehyung spat out venomously, as he started pulling himself up to his feet. He paused to glare at the two hands being extended to help him, Jimin and Namjoon’s both, “Are you kidding me? Look, I don’t know why this duck-looking motherfucker is lying to you, but I belong to no one.” “Such brave talk, but I think we’ve had enough of the heroics for one evening, don’t you?” Jimin was practically glowing with amusement, almost pitying the boy for his next move. He turned towards Namjoon, “Let Sugar know that his little pet is out here causing a scene.” Taehyung felt his blood run cold at the mention of Yoongi’s scene name. There was no way that could be allowed to happen. The implication alone was laughable, that he belonged to – to his professor? He pressed his tongue to the gash at the center of his bottom lip, tasting the thick rivulets of blood there, thinking of a way out of it. Hell, he would’ve contemplated more violence, if not for the odds being stacked so high against him. “I’ll just leave.” “This is odd behavior for a pet,” Namjoon said, ignoring Taehyung’s declaration to raise a skeptical brow at Jimin. “It's also common knowledge that Sugar doesn’t take submissives anymore, and he hasn’t for quite some time.” “This one here is his saving grace,” Jimin insisted, the lie absent in his words, fully believing in his own statement. Call it good intuition. Taehyung had potential, especially if Yoongi was able to see it already. The elder had always been so perceptive, so very good at reading others, knowing exactly what they wanted, what they craved. “Sugar’s exceptional boy…” “Well that’s – that’s fucking cute, but…” Taehyung laughed, without the amusement, taking dangerous strides closer towards the shibari expert. Namjoon was there, pressing a firm hand to the boy’s chest as Jimin lowered his gaze to Taehyung’s mouth, watching his lips form around words – words he’d heard so many times before, it was almost comical, “I’m nobody’s bitch.” It was that particular line that was often disproved, almost like a sentence in of itself. Yoongi was right, Taehyung was fucking lost. From between them, Namjoon gave a heavy sigh. It was obvious to him that Jimin was protecting the kid, but why? He brought the slim, plastic microphone to his mouth, sensing that the situation wasn’t going to deescalate anytime soon. “What’s Sugar’s twenty?” No one seemed to be listening to Taehyung, especially when, “I said I’d leave on my own, so long as duck tales doesn’t say anymore bullshit on my way out.” He really didn’t want to deal with Yoongi right now. The thought of it was enough to set off his anxiety, already too embarrassed about his obvious loss, having accomplished nothing by showing up at Void tonight. He was quick to add, “There’s no need to get that fucking guy here.” “Yeah, especially since ‘that fucking guy’ saw everything,” said the voice from the crowd that had steadily formed around them. Taehyung felt as the dread washed over him, all too familiar with the low, humorless tone of its owner. The younger turned to find Yoongi standing there among dozens, vividly severe in a black fitted blazer and matching slacks. A red silk was tied under his arms and under the lapels of his jacket, coming to settle around his slender waist. The colors were vibrant in contrast to his fair skin, rendering Taehyung into silence. Fuck. “Scratch that, Wonshik,” Namjoon said, dismissing the monitor’s search. He instantly removed his hand from Taehyung out of respect for Yoongi. It was an unexpected outcome to say the least, but it was no longer any of Namjoon’s business, “I take it that you’ll see to his punishment then?” “Most certainly,” Yoongi promised, playing the role to its fullest, as he stepped beside Taehyung. He eyed the split in his bottom lip, tsking with disappointment, “We should get that cleaned up, but first I want you to apologize to Jimin.” Taehyung scoffed at the prospect of doing such a thing, he was so disgusted. “What? No…” Yoongi nodded more to himself, than to anyone else – tacking on Taehyung’s rude behavior onto the growing list of things that would need to be worked on. It was useless when the boy didn’t even understand the point of the apology, didn’t fully realize the offense. Yoongi knew this and yet, he was still hopeful that manners were residing somewhere within that beautiful foundation, but oh well. “My sincerest apologies for Taehyung,” Yoongi said, apologizing on his behalf. He was being careful with his wording, since Taehyung really wasn’t under contract as his submissive, going along with the lie that Jimin started. If Namjoon learned of this, he would end this little exchange, and have Taehyung thrown out. “There was a misunderstanding and he acted impulsively. It won’t happen again.”     “Misunderstanding, my ass,” Taehyung bit out through clenched teeth, when Yoongi sharply turned to regard him, dark eyes daring the boy to open up his mouth again. For whatever reason, certainly not because of the chill he felt running up his spine, Taehyung didn’t make another remark after that, remaining quiet. Jimin was endlessly amused by the whole display, as he smiled crookedly, “Thank you and yes, please see to it that it doesn’t.” The final glance he shot Taehyung was practically oozing with conceit – feeling victorious and not above being petty about it. Jimin turned his back on them, before grabbing for his drink, and leaving for the evening. Namjoon was doing his best to clear up the crowd, encouraging the lingering onlookers to go back to playing, before he too disappeared. Taehyung missed him already.   The elder’s presence wasn’t something that could easily be ignored, especially when Yoongi began to shamelessly roam his eyes across his body, like that’s what he was there for – not much different from a work of art in need of being picked apart for deep interpretation. Taehyung once again reached for the scarf that wasn’t there, forgetting that he didn’t have it with him, making it impossible to hide himself from the open scrutiny. “Follow me,” Yoongi said, voice clipped and glacial, leaving no room for argument. It took a moment for Taehyung’s legs to start moving in an attempt to keep up with Yoongi’s brisk pace, watching how he effortlessly weaved through the swarm of people. He was being led down the corridor, pushing away the anxiety he felt from making so many turns, focusing more on the fact that it was new territory for him. Void was much like the large factory that Taehyung had initially perceived it to be, giving off a clinical atmosphere with rows upon rows of doors, and immaculate marbled tiles. Where the fuck did they stick the Enchanted Forest? Yoongi came to a stop in front of a set of red double doors, pushing them open. It was everything you would expect to see when visiting the school nurse, minus the nurse. Taehyung shuddered to imagine what they would’ve been like, to be greeted by a man or woman dressed from head to toe in latex, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves. “No nurse?” Taehyung asked, unclear on whether or not that was the case. “A majority of scene professionals opt to undergo some form of medical training,” Yoongi said, patting the leather examine table. “Take a seat.”   Taehyung quietly declined by keeping still, “Because what you’re doing is dangerous.” Here and now could work as an educational moment, Yoongi decided, as he walked over towards the cabinets to get what he needed in order to clean Taehyung’s cut. “Everything Jimin did out there was with Jeongguk in mind. For instance, when he told the monitor that you were mine, he was ensuring that Void can still be a place that Jeongguk brings you. It’s a big part of his life, is it not?” Oh, hell, no. Taehyung was not about to allow Yoongi to undo this ugly, confusing web. Not so easily. He shook his head in disbelief, “That’s bullshit…” Yoongi set the tray of supplies down on the table where Taehyung’s ass should have been seated, tamping down his annoyance. “He didn’t lift a finger to you. That was out of respect for Jeongguk.” “Jeongguk’s back looked like a fucking Jackson Pollock painting, except the artist only used shades of red,” Taehyung argued, wondering why Yoongi couldn’t understand him, not even a little bit. “And it was my fault–” “Your friend has been breaking the rules of their contract,” Yoongi said, tersely, as he walked towards the refrigerator behind Taehyung. The boy was on edge the second he neared, eyes following Yoongi’s every move. The energy in the room was high and charged with tension, watching as he removed an ice cube from the freezer, before handing it to him. “One after another. Jeongguk was punished because he wanted to be.” Taehyung pressed the cube to his cut, wincing at the discomfort. The wound was pulsating beneath the pressure. “Why would he want that…?” “People either come here to give pain or to receive it, sometimes even both.” The younger was reminded of Hoseok, when he’d referred to himself as a switch. Yoongi once again patted the table top and was relieved when Taehyung slowly, but surely made his way over to it. Opening a new bottle of ointment, he squeezed a decent-sized dollop onto a cotton swab. Yoongi tried to simplify it as best he could, “Pain can be physical and mental – pleasure or medicine. When it’s controlled, you can understand the benefits, can’t you.” The question was rhetorical and even if it wasn’t, Taehyung wouldn’t have known how to properly answer it anyway – not wanting to agree with Yoongi. He slid himself onto the table, gripping at the leather with one hand, as the other continued running the ice along his swollen lip. The new information was swirling around Taehyung’s stubborn mind, trying to sink in and make sense. He didn’t want to feel another moment of guilt over Jeongguk, and the elder was providing him with enough reason not to feel it, sensing that the comfort was necessary, but also unwanted, which was just too fucking bad. Yoongi’s eyes fell to where Taehyung’s shirt was hanging open, expression visibly darkening as he took in the smooth definition of the younger’s exposed collarbones, “Where is our favorite purple scarf?” “I forgot it in the car,” he answered innocuously, the ice melting between his now cold, numb fingers. What was this soft moment? Taehyung stared back at Yoongi, trying not to dwell on how pale his skin looked against his dark black hair – how much prettier, yet deadlier he looked then, “After tonight, I’m not coming back to Void. It really isn’t for me anyway.” “Oh, really?” Yoongi asked, feigning curiosity when he could’ve easily written the predictable lines flowing from Taehyung’s pretty little mouth. “Which part of it ‘isn’t’ for you?” Right, the reasons that Taehyung seemed to suddenly have in bulk were, “The orders I would have to follow, the pain that could be inflicted, and the punishments. I guess all of it?” The silence that followed was intensely unsettling, Yoongi staring his feline eyes into his own, as though seeking every corner of Taehyung’s mind for the truth. That first night at Void had revealed the boy to him completely – what with his dick hard and straining against his jeans, thick lashes wet with tears of awe as he watched Woozi being degraded, and punished. Yoongi had seen that look before, had recognized it in countless others. Envy was common in an establishment like Void. He approached Taehyung with the swab between his fingers, unable to maintain their polite conversation, when he began haltingly, “I don’t like being lied to, Taehyung. It’s one of those absolutes with me and I won’t tolerate it.” Taehyung was quick to deny it, “But I’m not lying.” It was a pitch too high, perhaps a little too fast. All in all, it was the same outcome, a fucking lie. It was always too easy for Yoongi to decipher when he was being lied to, which was the main reason why he couldn’t stand it. The small, white lies were the worst in his opinion, because they were needless. From a young age, no one could tell him a lie, at least not successfully – not even his own mother. Not even on days where he would prefer being told a lie over the truth. Yoongi admonished the boy for the continuous dishonesty, something cold and feral marring his usually calm features, “You just did it again.” “Believe whatever the fuck you want, it’s not like you can do anything about it,” Taehyung said, the words slipping past his lips before he even had the chance to consider them.   “Oh, sure, I can,” Yoongi said, taking on a sweet lilt to his usually rough voice. “I’ll remember it.” Taehyung snorted, more out of nervousness, than anything else, “For what? My term paper?” “We aren’t to discuss school while we’re here, Taehyung,” Yoongi chided softly, before he started leaning in, intent on lowering Taehyung’s hand away from his mouth, so that the ice wasn’t in the way of the swab. The moment their skin made contact, Taehyung reacted on impulse, slapping the other’s hand away. He’d used enough force to send the ice cube, as well as the swab to the floor. The ice broke immediately upon contact, the glimmering shards sliding across the floor. Yoongi slowly wet his pouty lips, growing more enticed to further test the boy, as he brought his hand up again. Long, delicate fingers were an inch away from skimming the top of Taehyung’s cheekbone – the skin there soft and flushed with a rosy color, when he was met with another slap. It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room then, leaving Taehyung gasping for air, his chest rising and falling heavily. Yoongi stepped in closer to him, tilting his head when Taehyung’s wide, innocent eyes left his own, and it was like being shut out from the sun. Again, he went to caress the side of Taehyung’s face and was automatically swatted away, more angrily and heated than the previous time. The last of Yoongi’s patience snapped, instinct burning up throughout his toes to his fingertips, when he brought his other hand to the front of Taehyung’s throat. It was light pressure, holding him rather than grabbing – just tight enough to get his point across. That this is exactly what Taehyung wanted, but was too stubborn, and ridden by fear to admit. “Our meeting again was either fate or cruelty, but this is, well,” Yoongi mused, lips curling slightly, as he used his grip as leverage to pull the younger off the table, and onto his feet. Even while Taehyung stood at full height and was practically towering over the elder, it was clear who was in control. “This is like a dream,” he murmured, irrevocably drawn to the boy, despite all the cold, garish places inside him that said not to bother. Yoongi was no match for the sun, but he wanted to contest it, “And to think that I was gonna leave you be, angel – but then you showed up dressed like you’re homeless, incurring violence.” Yoongi really shouldn’t have been proud of that. There was nothing impressive or admirable about it, and yet. “You’re full of surprises, Kim Taehyung.”   Taehyung felt as his heart began to race, urging his brain to function long enough to tell Yoongi to stop – to push him away, but his body chose to ignore him, reacting to the fear as though it was something pleasant. Taehyung hated himself for it – hated the fact that his cock was eagerly stirring in response to the thrill of Yoongi’s dominance. He sent a silent prayer to whatever Gods were listening that the elder was too distracted with baiting him to notice it. He closed his fingers into the sleeve of Yoongi’s blazer, deciding to hang on for what was to come. And it was happening so slowly, the precious space between them dwindling by the second – Yoongi’s firm hold around his neck bringing him down, until their faces were so close they were nearly touching. It was just when Taehyung thought he was about to be kissed that the elder purposefully stopped himself short, a wicked smirk tugging at his pink, kittenish lips, “Will you let me taste you?”  

The question alone was enough to paralyze him. Taehyung had been privy to a couple ‘first’ kisses in his lifetime. When he was seven, he knew that the kiss he received from the girl at school was different from the ones his parents would give him. When Taehyung was fifteen, he knew that the kiss he received from the neighbor’s daughter was different from the girl at school. He was now being presented with his first adult kiss, a proper kiss from the same gender, a kiss that scared him shitless. He swallowed thickly, the slightest action obvious to the elder, despite his schooled look of indifference. Yoongi’s grip tightened a fraction, causing his breath to hitch. Taehyung found himself nodding, even though he knew that it wasn’t enough. Yoongi was still waiting. Taehyung closed his eyes just to escape the humiliation, releasing a sharp gasp, “Yes…” “You remembered to use your words for me without having to be asked,” Yoongi husked, voice going lower the closer he was to claiming Taehyung’s lips, “…you’re such a good boy.” The first brush of contact elicited a deep, embarrassing whine from the younger – the sound of it like a punch to the gut, leaving Yoongi hungry and desperate. He slid his other hand around Taehyung’s waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other, greedily needing more without even having his fill yet.     Taehyung whimpered when he felt the elder’s teeth scrape over the broken swell of his bottom lip, where everything felt far too sharp and tender, trapped in a prison of long fingers, and a skilled mouth. The insistent press of Yoongi’s tongue was hot and sinful against Taehyung’s numbed flesh, the ice having left him tingling with sensations steadily returning. He parted his lips, moaning softly when Yoongi delved his tongue in, deepening the kiss. Fifteen was a lifetime ago for Taehyung, unable to remember how to kiss. He was too overly self-aware and clumsy, even as he melted into the warmth of Yoongi’s mouth – he was stilted at first, before his tongue shyly teased back. The response served as a small act of willingness on Taehyung’s part, a green light that had Yoongi chasing after more, more, more. He steered them towards the nearest wall without breaking contact, pinning the boy to its surface. There were questionable things – filthy, unforgivable things that Yoongi wanted to do, say, and promise to him, but he hadn’t done this in a long, long time. There were rules that Yoongi had to abide by as a dom, especially if he wanted Taehyung to become his submissive. It was rare that the elder acted on whim. He never took what he wanted without thinking twice. He never kissed as though he was starved for it, yet there he was with Taehyung as his only form of sustenance. Taehyung, who was helplessly drowning in him, fingers trembling in his jacket, holding onto him like he was a lifeline. It was maddening – Yoongi’s teeth dragging from his top to bottom lip, tasting the blood, knowing that it would be smudged on their skin. Taehyung stopped himself from leaning forward when the elder pulled back far enough to look him in the eye. Not like he would get very far with the hand that was still wrapped around his neck, Yoongi’s thumb running circles over his pulse. “You know what you remind me of?” Yoongi asked, voice all breathy and affected from their kiss. There was a mingled mess of saliva and blood against his pink, pouty lips. It was difficult for Taehyung to look away from it, as he raised hesitant fingers to wipe it from Yoongi’s porcelain skin. His wrist was abruptly caught midway, Yoongi’s charcoal eyes taking in the mirrored smear of crimson across Taehyung’s lips, “A baby tiger, unaware of how strong and fearless it’ll be once it’s fully grown.” Taehyung was sufficiently dead by everything that came out of Yoongi’s mouth. Prepare his death certificate, he was ready to sign. “That’s very poetic of you…are you sure it wasn’t the eyes and orange hair?” Yoongi moved past the sarcasm, leaning so that his words skimmed across the younger’s lips, “I want to put an end to those lies of yours, Taehyung.” A hand slid down the front of Taehyung’s chest, his stomach sinking beneath Yoongi’s touch as he held in his breath. “The ones you keeping telling yourself that you didn’t want this, or me. Not the orders, the pain, or the punishments…” “Please…” Taehyung whispered, less than a second away from Yoongi palming over the thick outline of his hard cock, where he’d be able to confirm just how desperate he was for it. A switch inside him flipped. “I can’t, I can’t! I’m sorry.” Just like the cube had shattered, so did he – Taehyung was fragmented, pieces of himself wanting to give in and allow Yoongi to continue, but then the rest of him was terrified. He’d spent so long protecting himself from the shame of indulging in literally anything. It was his grandmother’s life insurance that was paying for his tuition and instead of studying; he was here, doing this… Yoongi recognized the panic, slowly detaching himself with a step backwards, as to not crowd him. It was obvious that Taehyung was still reeling, as he wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. “This,” he said with a start, a finger gesturing between himself and Yoongi. “…can’t ever happen again.” The elder doesn’t say anything to his statement, the tension climbing. He allowed Taehyung to get as far as two steps, before his hand shot out to grab at his wrist. The boy turned so easily for him, willingly parting his mouth against Yoongi’s with a sigh, as a set of cruel lips sucked on his tongue, seeming to follow a rhythm that had Taehyung’s hips rocking forward to seek more friction. If Taehyung was a tiger, then the blood housed within his veins was roaring. He felt dizzied by the rush of arousal, overly sensitive to every little thing. “Mmm…” Yoongi hummed against his mouth, before once again leaning back to stare into the depths of Taehyung’s eyes. Slowly, the elder raked his teeth along his bottom lip as though he were savoring the taste, “Of course, Taehyung. This can’t ever happen again.” Oh, oh… Using Taehyung’s words against him. Taehyung laughed at the underlying spite, roughly pulling himself free from Yoongi’s grasp. “It’s funny how you told me not to mention school here, when class is still in session, professor.” This fucking guy. With Yoongi, everything was a point to be made or a lesson to be learned. Well, fuck that and fuck him. “You’re a fucking asshole,” Taehyung muttered bitterly, before he shoved the doors open, momentarily contented with leaving Yoongi far behind. He followed the corridor, unable to hear people talking as they passed him. It was like the world was on mute with no words or music to fill in his surroundings with life. The receptionist was already leaned forward, ready to flirt with him as per usual, but he couldn’t hear a single thing. He hadn’t even slowed down, until the winter air hit his skin, reminding him that he was underdressed for the inclement weather. He unlocked the car and sat there with the key in the ignition. The scarf lied there on the passenger seat, looking plenty guilty. He brought the knitted fabric around his neck. Taehyung spared a glance into the rearview mirror, revealing the deep flush of his skin, and his cut shimmering wetly. The lesson to be learned is that Taehyung was a liar. A liar and a coward, because he wanted… He wanted Min Yoongi. --------------------------------------------------------------

Jeongguk was in bed with the lights off, save for the laptop pressed to his stomach. He was hiding in his game – PUBG, grabbing a frying pan during his loot in an abandoned house. It would protect his ass from gunfire, barely, but why not? He found gasoline for the car he stole along the way. He usually hated playing by himself, but he didn’t want the company right now, to which Hoseok wasn’t taking the hint, continuing to message him throughout his match. He was too angry and worried about Taehyung. He’d even left his phone behind, which was extremely unlike his hyung.   An hour ago Jimin had been kind enough to confirm what Jeongguk already suspected, sending him a Snap of Taehyung and Yoongi with a caption that read, ‘You two have much to discuss’. Well, no shit.       It was ten minutes later that the door was busted open with Taehyung’s hip colliding with the wood, cursing the damn thing on his way in. He quietly placed their keys down on top of his desk, trying to be covert. It was a long, horrible night. He couldn’t wait to get inside the shower to rinse it all off. Still considerably dark in the room, Jeongguk managed to close out of the Steam app undetected, before he reached over and turned their bedside lamp on. The sudden flicker of light startled Taehyung, “Shit!” “Where were you?” “Oh, my god, Guk,” he gasped, placing a hand against his chest, willing his racing heart to calm the fuck down, and listen to him for once. “I thought you were sleeping.” “Hyung, you left me. You went on and on about socks in some weird, psychopathic fit and then you left me,” Jeongguk said, throwing the sheets off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I wondered if you were headed out to a department store to buy them for me in bulk. That you would come back here and bury me under a vat of fuzzy assortments.” Taehyung shook his head, because really, “You know I have no money, even if the purchase would totally be worth it. You know, we should have a sock day. That’s not a bad idea.” Jeongguk was officially done with the socks. “I know that you went to Void.” Ah, fuck, Taehyung thought. How did he find out? Duck tales, whoo-ooh!   “Yes, alright, I went to Void and did something stupid,” Taehyung started, unsure of how to proceed without pissing Jeongguk off. Did such avenues exist? “You’re not going to be happy with me, but before you go bat-shit, I need you to hear me out first. I attacked…” Jesus, this was going to sound ridiculous. He tried again, “I attacked…Jimin.” Jeongguk was on his feet then, approaching him at a pace that Taehyung wasn’t at all comfortable with. He was a Jason not a Michael Myers aka he wasn’t above running – dear god. Very carefully, Jeongguk asked him, “You did what now? Taehyung, what the fuck?” “I know that he cares for you in some fucked up way that I clearly don’t understand…yet? Look – I’ve been really close-minded lately. You opened this door, showed me what you were into, and I didn’t even really try to understand it. All I did was judge you, Guk…” “Yeah, you did, but no surprise there. You always fucking do,” Jeongguk said, brows furrowing angrily. Truthfully, he was more disturbed that after an ‘attack’ all Jimin did was send him a photo. He just noticed the gash on Taehyung’s bottom lip, wondering if Jimin had been the one to give it to him. Taehyung felt like a broken record, unable to believe anyone else except Jeongguk. “I still don’t understand, okay? Fuck. I’m trying here. Just tell me that those marks weren’t because of something I did?”   “The marks…?” It dawned on him then, connecting two and two together, which would explain his friend’s absurd bout of recklessness, and sock mania. “Tae – Christ, no, they’re not…they’re because of me. I did things to get myself into trouble. Is that what tonight was all about? Wow…” Taehyung blinked, “Why would you want to get into trouble on purpose?” “I like being good for him, but I wanted to see what it would be like if I was bad for once? You and Hoseok hyung already know how well I can do as a brat,” Jeongguk laughed, slightly embarrassed to be confessing this much, even if they were as close as brothers. “And I liked it, by the way. It was freeing, almost? Jimin is always so gentle with me, always praising me, and making me feel all beautiful, and delicate, like I’m made of glass or something. I just wanted him to be rough with me, well – rougher than usual.” Taehyung sighed, disappointed with himself for acting so irrationally, “Well, I didn’t realize and I’m sorry. I should have let you talk earlier. I felt like such shit for leaving you.” “Yeah, that entire sock rant had me questioning the state of your sanity. Anyways, apology accepted, can we please get back to the part where you attacked Jimin?” “Right, okay, uhm do you want the theatrical version of me riding on horseback to storm the castle or, do you want me to get straight to the…” Jeongguk’s glare was enough of a hint. “I shoved him into a table and just as I was seconds away from hitting him, a monitor showed up. I was so pissed off about being stopped, that I clocked the guy. He turned and caught me right in the mouth. It was a trade.” Taehyung felt bitter, watching as Jeongguk breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. No harm befell your master, it was just me. He was more than fine, actually, quacking out his jokes, and waddling off on his webbies.” Jeongguk paused, “Did you just – wait, are you referring to Jimin as a duck?” Taehyung shrugged, “If the shoe fits. I mean, everyone gets to be an animal of some sort, right? You’re a bunny, he’s a duck, and I’m a tiger, apparently.” “Yoongi called you a tiger?” Jeongguk asked, curiously. It both surprised and concerned him that out of all doms Taehyung could have attracted, that it was Yoongi who’d been interested in him. There were rumors, stories that had been carried through the grapevine. Aside from that, it was a Yoongi didn’t train submissives anymore. He smiled when Taehyung shyly nodded in response, his skin flushing suddenly. “If Yoongi were an animal, what would he be? You’ve already thought of it, haven’t you?” Being an art history major, Taehyung often found himself comparing people and situations to famous works of art. Lately, he had no problem with gaining access to his mental gallery. The moment he’d watched Yoongi step onto the stage at Void, he knew that he was a Cuthbert Edmund Swan piece, crossing a river at night, and every other panther piece before or after it. Yoongi was as good as midnight, a cat in the wild, as graceful as he was cunning, and predatory. “No,” Taehyung said, lying some more – lying to himself, and to his friends now. “If the typical asshole counted as an animal, then, maybe?” “That kinda works, actually, and Tae,” Jeongguk said, tone growing serious. “Be careful around Yoongi, alright?” “There is no ‘around’ Yoongi, other than at my classes, and believe me, I don’t want to spend more time with him than I have to.” Wow, Taehyung was getting good at this, this whole – denial thing. “Hypothetically though, if I wanted to be near him, what would I have to be careful of?” “For starters, Yoongi doesn’t take subs anymore and even if he did, most doms don’t like to train, uhm…” Jeongguk trailed off, trying to think of a delicate way to put it. Taehyung lowered his head the longer the last syllable dragged on for. “…virgins. Doms don’t like to train virgins.”   “Oh,” Taehyung said, having been disconnected from his friends once or twice due to that topic. Hoseok had a damn field day with it. If what Jeongguk said was true, then Taehyung really had nothing to worry about with Yoongi. Not now or ever, probably, since he was borderline celibate. Then why was he slightly disappointed by that news? “Good to know.” Jeongguk picked up the pillow that had fallen off his bed in his haste earlier. “Also, I got around to seeing Hobi’s photos, and you were right. They’re shit. I hyped him up though, so there’s a high possibility that we might be receiving more tomorrow.” “Oh, goody,” Taehyung said, giving a roll of his eyes. Jeongguk walked up beside him then, large hands gently grabbing at his face, inspecting his wound. “It’ll be better by tomorrow, hyung.” Yeah, maybe. --------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday was always an off day for Taehyung. Actually, any day when he didn’t have class was an odd, confusing day. It was worse when no one was trying to strong arm him into last minute plans. Taehyung had his notes open, eyes skimming over the details of Yoongi’s last lecture. Reading over the words, he swore that he could hear the professor’s voice – hearing his voice, Taehyung could vividly see him. Soon it wasn’t the dorm anymore, but it the medical room at Void. It was difficult when Taehyung could still taste him on his tongue – could still feel him on skin, like a ghost wound. He pressed his fingers to his cut, contemplative. Yoongi wouldn’t want him once he knew that he was a virgin. Taehyung eyed his phone. There was a lot he didn’t understand, within himself, and in general. His text tone went off – this was his reason to grab for his old, shitty Android. The KKT chat was being spammed with photos from Hoseok. He would happily ignore them for now, as he instead clicked into his mail inbox. Firing up his laptop would take too long and wouldn’t be worth it overall. He found the email with Professor Min’s number in it. He really shouldn’t be doing this, even if the email made it sound mandatory. Taehyung knew he had a choice. He could deny the professor, until his dying breath – avoid giving away his number, and never have to speak with him outside of a school setting, ever the fuck again. ‘This can’t ever happen again…’ echoed off the walls of his mind. It was as cruel as Yoongi’s last kiss. If there was one thing he'd learned from Jeongguk's situation, it was to be a fucking brat. He went to add a new number, typing in ‘Prof. M’ as the contact name. To: Prof. M ------------------- It’s Kim Taehyung. You know, the student you want to fuck :D Jeongguk told me some terrific news last night that pertains to our situation. Apparently doms don’t train virgins. So sorry to shatter your dreams of one day owning me. Guess it’ll be someone else’s job :/   Sat. 05, 02:10pm It was less than a minute later that Sent went to Read.

[sonnenfuchs]

⟶ that tuesday night | jjg | (m)

▹ pairing: jeongguk x reader ▹ genre: fluff, smut ▹ wordcount: 5k ▹ a/n: this is a dumb pwp i have no explanation for except the support of like seven different people that encouraged me to write it. enojy a somewhat college!au jeon.

↳ your best friend finds out how much you love horror, yet you are so goddamn easy to scare. it holds the promise of an entertaining night.

“So, part two tonight?”

He grins at you over the rim of his glass filled with white wine, the usual bunny grin with his nose crinkled and eyes shining that is so incredibly hard to resist. Or maybe, it’s just the wine that you yourself have already running through your system that makes you think that way. You just shrug at him.

“I mean, sure. Why not.” He grins even wider at that, ignoring the faintest trace of hesitation that is laced into your voice. You don’t even get to sigh at his eagerness before he is already turned towards his laptop, opening google to pull up a stream that is high quality enough for his liking.

Maybe it was a mistake telling your horror movie obsessed friend about your definitely there curiosity for all things horror, especially movies, after all you are an absolute nerd for all things film and Jeongguk knows that as well. But being the absolute scaredy cat you are, you never quite dared to venture into them on your own. More than delighted upon hearing those news, a mischievous grin spread over his face, proposing the suggestion that if you are to scared to watch them alone, who better to watch them with than Jeon Jeongguk himself?

After he promised that yes, you can hide behind his back, and yes, you can hold his hand if you need to, you agreed.

And before you knew it, you were laying in his bed, half clinging to his blanket as you watched “The Conjuring”. With lights turn fully up - you insisted on that, but that came with a con as well, because it only made it easier for him to laugh at you sinking further and further down the head of the bed until you were cowering under the safety shield that was his blanket the longer the movie went on.

After the credits had rolled, you had calmly collected yourself, saving as much grace and composure as you had left, but then he simply reminded you that you had to sleep on your own, and your miserable face just added to his amusement. Honestly, why did you even agree to watch a horror movie when you live on your goddamn own in an apartment complex where somewhat creepy noises were heard all night long. But at least he had the courtesy to walk you back home in the middle of the night, and he was polite enough not to mention that maybe, just maybe, you were walking closer to him than necessary.

Now, exactly a week later, you are here in his room again. Under the premise of alcohol and a good time he has lured you over only to once again propose another movie night full of horror.

Not that you mind, after all you admitted your desire for diving into those movies, and any excuse you could get to curl up in Jeongguks bed, letting his smell surround you, you would take. There’s just something very comforting about being in a place that is so private to him.

While he is setting up his laptop on a chair across from the bed so it serves as a movie screen, you crawl into his bed to once again claim his blanket as your safe haven. You are ready for another two hours of tension as you expect a jumpscare to pop up any second, praying that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself any further as you might just flinch and scream. But he interrupts your inner prep talk.

“Does it bother you if I change into sweats real quick?” He gestures down to his in tight jeans and button down clad body and you quickly shake your head, as he goes to rummage around in his wardrobe.

“Mind if I look? Or do you want me to look away?” You tease with a grin on your face as he pokes his tongue out to you. Shrugging of his button down, he searches for something more cosy. Settling on a simple white cotton shirt he pulls it out and turns to you.

“Not at all, please, go ahead and marvel at all these muscles. By the way, do you want to change into something comfier as well?” You look down at your skinny jeans, one of your fave pairs, and one of the few things in your wardrobe that make your nearly non existent ass look amazing, but there are definitely better things to wear for movie nights. Even impromptu ones. And so you nod at him, thankfully smiling as he throws you a pair of sweatpants.

Getting out of bed again, you shimmy out of your pants, when out of the corner of your eye you see him stop his movements and turn his head towards you. His voice sounds out once more, and it’s a mix of a teasing tone and something else you can’t quite make out. “Mind if I look?”

“Guk, please. You have seen me in bikinis before, where’s the difference.” You easily shrug him off, but the realization that you are in fact wearing a pair of black lace panties, which are without a doubt racier that your usual swim attire, does let a slight blush creep into your cheeks. The fact that you definitely can feel his gaze skim over your behind before he quickly turns away to shrug on his own clothes does not help. At all.

Dropping back down on the bed, he lays his body next to yours with a tired sigh, stretching out his limbs. You wonder what he’s doing, he hasn’t even started the movie yet, and yet here he is, and he is looking at you with an expecting look in his eyes, his teeth find purchase in his bottom lip, worrying the delicate skin.

“Why are you staring at me?” Drawing out the first word, you crook your head at him, poking him in the arm to make him spill. He swats your hand away before sighing again.

“You know how I was at that bar on friday?”

“Yeah,” you hum, cuddling deeper into his bed, fully surrounded by his scent that you have grown so familiar with. “You texted me since I promised to come out too. Sorry ‘bout flaking on that by the way.”

He shakes his head to dismiss your apology. After all this time he knows that if he texts you past ten pm, the chances of you actually attending anything that does require a dress code other than pyjamas are slim, if he does not even dare to say impossible.

“Don’t worry about it, that night was a mess anyway. Taehyung was having a rough night, and you know how we always have a drink together if one of us is in a really shitty mood? Yeah, that was why I texted you at like eleven. Had to cheer him up first, ya know?”

You nod as you watch him speak. His eyebrows are knitted, and you can tell he is mulling over something uncomfortable in his thoughts. So, you simply stay quiet until he resumes talking.

“Anyway, we run into some old acquaintances, and there is this one lady who I ended up talking to. She was nice and all, but like, we were only talking. And the next morning I woke up to her having spammed me with messages on facebook. Stuff like I miss you and can I see you again and even I love you. Can you believe that? Like, she’s nearly thirty aaand already has a kid!”

“Wait, what. For real?” You don’t know if you should laugh at his misery, but you definitely want to. It has something so surreal about it that it seems hilarious, yet you get why he is so creeped out and looks so uncomfortable just thinking back to it.

“Yes. For real. What 29 year old hits on a 20 year old and acts that way after meeting them in a bar once? It’s crazy. And now I am kind of scared to run into her again this week.” And, this is the moment you realize as to why he has been staring at you so expectantly. You are not sure you want to hear his idea. “So, I have been thinking that maybe, if she does appear again this week, you could… pretend to be my girlfriend?”

“Jeongguk, how much wine did you have to even think of this?”

“Enough. But like I’ll just tell her I found the love of my life this week, like a miracle, and I don’t know, maybe I’ll put my arm around you for a while so it seems more believable and once she fucks off we go back to whatever shitshow this friendship is.”

“... You do realize that a. I’m super busy this week as I have told you before and will not go near any place that could even tempt me to consume anything that might get me drunk and b. that is one hell of a dumb plan.”

Raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms as he looks at you with puppy eyes. You do get where he is coming from, but also you cannot believe that he is being serious. Well, yeah, maybe some of your friends are thinking that there is something going on between the two of you, with you constantly hang out and all and more often than not ditching the rest of the group to hang out on your own. But most of the time, you just end up playing Overwatch, instead. So, no, you are only friends, but you can see why the plan could work in his mind.

“Y/N, pleaaase. Help me out here.”

This time you sigh, placing a hand on each of his shoulder as you stare straight into his eyes. “Fine. If you meet her again, text me and I will respond with a confession of my undying love for you and how the stars have aligned in just the right position, allowing us to meet, so it can only be fate and has to be destined. But this is a one time thing.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He half screams, hugging you quickly before jumping out of bed to finally hit play on the movie that must have fully loaded by now. “Wait, lights on or off?”

“Well, we did have them on last time, but I guess we can try watching in the dark until I get too scared?”

“Deal.” He presses play, darkens the room and slides back into the space next to you, making himself comfy. “You know, I think this one is actually way scarier than the last one. I’m not sure, though.”

The dim light coming from the laptop screen is still enough to make out his features, the light reflects in his large eyes, and you can see him look at you as his knee nudges yours.

“What is this, a bad attempt to make me cuddle up to you?” You question his motives as you nudge him back, scooting closer to him and letting him put his arm around you as he admits to it laughing. Your head ends up resting on his chest and his hand finds a place to settle on your waist. It’s a perfect position, letting both of you see the screen and you feel safe. Protected. You can easily hide in his chest once the jumpscares begin.

But even as your heart starts beating faster and there are chills running down your spine at certain scenes, you are and will always be somewhat of a snarky asshole. Running your mouth you point out all the illogical things and stupid behaviour in the movie, even laughing at some things that should scare you. But hey, let’s be honest, a voice that should belong to some gruff looking six foot guy that has been chain smoking for the last fifty years coming out of an eleven year old girl just is so unfitting, it is hilarious to you. At one point Jeongguk even has to tell you to shut up and stop ruining one of his fave movies.

You simply shrug him off.

Yet, there are enough moments where your grip his arm, his biceps firm under your touch, and press closer to him as he soothingly runs his hand over your side and holds you tight against him by your shoulder, and you are incredibly grateful for that.

You barely realize how tangled up you ended, not until the credits start to roll and your thigh somehow is trapped, wedged in between his legs and his hand rests on your spine as it sneaked up underneath your shirt somewhere along the way. When he gets up to stop the movie, complaining about the creepy music that is playing, you feel cold without him next to you, and you nearly pull him back down.

At the same a yawn escapes you, and as you stretch out your lazy limbs, you feel how tired you actually are. You think about how you still have to gather your things and walk home through the dark and cold night and groan. It’s warm and comfy in his bed, and just the thought of leaving it seems like torture.

“How late is it, anyway?” You mumble, trying to find the motivation to get up, yet somehow only ending up hugging yourself tighter in the blanket.

“Nearly one am.”

“Jesus Christ.” You groan, and you do not quite believe that it’s already that late. “I’m too tired, can I just sleep here?”

He is already up and putting away his laptop when he turns around to look at you. Seeing you all curled up, stifling another yawn, he cannot help but smile at how cute you look. “Sure. But I don’t have a toothbrush you can use.”

“Eh, that’s fine. I’ll live if I don’t brush my teeth for once. Can I borrow a shirt though? My sweater is too warm to sleep in.”

So he throws you a shirt before he goes into the bathroom to wash up. Grabbing your phone, you check for new messages before turning it off so it doesn’t end up with a dead battery in the morning. Then you finally change into your borrowed pyjama. You quickly get rid of your sweater, and pull the shirt over your head before taking of your bra. That turns out to be a good decision as Jeongguk enters the room the exact moment you pull it out underneath your shirt, and you can see him try to look unbothered.

You ignore his reaction and lay back down.

He turns off the lights and crawls under the covers next to you, pulling you against his chest. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You hum, making yourself comfortable in his hold as your heavy eyelids close. But sleep doesn’t come quickly. There is something about sleeping in someone’s arms that is too foreign for you, and it throws you off. But it seems to be the same for Jeongguk as you both try to stay still, yet shift around subtly.

And it doesn’t take too long for you to overheat, the duvet paired with his body heat too much. So you wriggle out of his grasp, explaining what is going on when he asks what’s wrong.

“I can open a window if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I just need to…” You go trail off as you lift your hips to pull down the thick material of the sweatpants and take them off completely to throw them somewhere on the floor. “Get rid of those. Otherwise I’m gonna melt.”

He pulls you back against him after that, and with your legs now bare, it’s way easier to stay that way. But now you are painfully aware of how your bare ass is up against his crotch, and you hope he isn’t thinking the same as you, because as the both of you shift in your attempt to fall asleep, your behind is rubbing against him. And his heart is beating as fast as yours, you can hear it.

But he is your best friend, nothing more and you do not want anything more, but right now with his strong arms wrapped around you and his breath fanning over your neck, you cannot help but imagine how his lips would feel against yours, and how his dick would feel stretching you out as he pounds into you.

The more you think about it, the less sleepy you feel and the more vivid those images become.

You are not sure how long you are lying there awake, it feels like hours, and all you want to do is sleep. But then you turn from your side to your back, and Jeongguks hand slips up to the side of your neck, just shy of holding your jaw, and your breath gets caught in your throat.

His fingers reach up to turn your head towards him, and before you know it, his lips are on yours. You are frozen for a split second, but then you are kissing back as you press yourself closer to him, your hand pulling at his hair.

He easily rolls you over so you are straddling him, his hands tightly holding on to your waist, and he groans underneath you as your teeth tug at his bottom lip. Kissing with even more fervor now, one of his hands slip down to grip your ass and you grind your hips into him as a response. His tongue slips into your mouth and you let out the tiniest of noises that just spur him on to hear more.

Breaking the kiss, he tugs on your shirt and you immediately sit up and help him pull it over your head before diving back to let your mouth meet his again. But it doesn’t take long before he rolls you over again, this time he is being on top of you, yet he keeps your hips lifted off the mattress so he can pull down your underwear.

You kick it off the rest of the way, and the second it is out of the way he settles between your legs, putting his weight onto you as he kisses you breathless. He starts to move down your neck, indulging in the little broken moans you let out. He moves further and further until he is nibbling at the apex of your thigh and just the sight of his head between your legs is enough to make your heart beat faster.

He nibbles and licks at your skin until you get impatient and start wriggling in his hold, whining out of impatience. He silently chuckles at your reaction before finally complying with a broad stripe licked up on your center.

After that, he no longer holds back. You barely have time to catch your breath as he nibbles and sucks, his tongue toying with your clit in the most delightful of ways. You clutch his hair in overwhelming pleasure as you moan out his name again and again, trying to memorize the stunning visual of him eating you out in your mind to never ever forget this again.

And when you start to move around too much for his liking, as your hips start to jerk, he simply wraps his arms around you, his strong arms on top of your lower stomach as he pulls you down so you cannot go anywhere.

In the faint light of the moonshine filtering through the windows you can make out the veins in his forearms as he flexes his muscles to keep you from moving, and the way he is laying on his side, you can see his cock heavy and thick through the thin fabric of his boxers.

You wonder what it feels like in your hand.

But he does not let you reach down. Lifting your hips up, he pulls you against his mouth, wrapping his pink lips around your clit and your hands fly up to clutch the pillow underneath your head as to anchor yourself to this reality as pleasure tries to wash you away. You are barely holding on and he knows it as well.

So, with his fingers digging into your skin to keep you close, and his tongue dancing against you, he does not let you budge a single inch until you are writhing underneath him with gasps falling from your lips in ways that sound like faint resemblances of his name and your thighs are shaking around his head.

He lets go of you when he thinks of you boneless enough, and then moves back up until his face is hovering above yours again. You can tell he wants to kiss you again. “Do you want me to go wash my face?”

You barely let him finish his sentence before your lips are on his again. You can taste yourself, and it feels somewhat odd, but you do not mind it at all, and mostly you do not want to let him go, not yet. You want to kiss him crazy. And he kisses back just as madly with his hand cupping your face so you do not go anywhere.

“So, if we already have gotten to this point…” You ask in a spare second of catching your breath in which he is nosing along your jaw with a heaving chest. “Sex or nah?”

He just snorts at your words, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone. “I mean, I’m not saying no.”

“Well, neither am I. So what are you waiting for?”

He sits back to look down on you, and with his hair a disheveled mess and some of your remains still glistening on his chin, he has never looked better.

“Do we need a condom?”

“No, I’m on the pill. Plus, I do in fact know you are clean after that drama with your ex.” You pull him back down and he easily lets you.

“Ugh, don't remind me.” He groans before attaching his lips to side of your neck, kissing up and down until you are writhing underneath him once again and you feel him grinning against your skin.

Then he leans back again, pulling off his boxers and discarding them somewhere on the side before crawling back above you. You immediately part your legs so he can settle in between, and you prepare to feel him enter you when-

“Wait, erm, I…might have had a little too much to drink, it’s really difficult to get fully hard.” He whispers in the crook of your neck, and you cannot help but laugh.

“For real?”

He hum in affirmation, pinching your side when you continue to laugh at him, going back to teasing the sensitive skin of your neck. You push him a little to turn, both of you ending on your side, facing each other and you reach down beneath your bodies to take his cock into your hands. It’s warm and firm, and definitely thick, letting your core clench with excitement.

You jerk him slowly, and he groans into your mouth at the touch. It’s satisfying, hearing his reaction. Taking it one step further, you change the angle of your position again, guiding his member to your sex and sliding along it. It rubs against your already oversensitive clit as well and noises escape you with each thrust of his hips.

That seems to do the trick, as it doesn’t take long before he flips you over again, asking you if you are ready, and you can only nod furiously until he finally slides into you. There definitely is a stretch, but it feels all too delicious and you cannot help the moan of relief that leaves your lips when he is buried deeply inside of you.

With his weight propped onto his elbows on each side of you, he has all the leverage to move his hip and he wastes no time to start thrusting into you. Your ankles come to cross behind his back and the change of position immediately makes it all feel so much more intense and deeper.

As he starts to pick up speed, the moans spill over your lips more and more in staccato noises that bounce of the walls and spur him on. The bed rattles as it hits the wall with each movement, and at this point you are sure you have long woken up his flatmate. But facing an annoyed Taehyung in the morning is the last of your worries right now, as his sharp hipbones dig into your thighs and it is slowly but surely starting to hurt.

Yet you cannot be bothered to let him know as the current angle just feels all too delightful. If you could, you would never let this moment end, he feels heavenly inside of you, and with you clawing over his back, you are sure he knows how good he makes you feel.

But his own breath is labored and there are groans coming from him each time you tighten around him, so you know, it is not only you that is enjoying herself. He seems to get closer and closer to his own edge too, deep grunts breaking up the rhythm of his exhales here and there.

You press your heels into his lower back, bringing him even closer to you, and he suddenly picks up his speed. His thrusts turn erratic as he chases his high, and it presses all the air out of you, the feeling of him fucking you this hard is absolutely overwhelming.

All you can do is moan out his name.

And that is when the coil in his stomach snaps, he thrusts a couple more times before stilling as you feel him fill you up with his warm cum. His muscles lock up and you squeeze your walls around him, guiding him through his orgasm and milking all you can out of him.

It takes a couple of minutes before the tension in his body snaps and he collapses on top of you. You hold him dearly until he has caught his breath. His lips move over your collarbones, up your neck, along your jaw until he meets your mouth one last time, kissing you with all the passion he can still muster.

Then he finally rolls off of you, and stretches his limbs. Standing up he turns on the lights, and it blinds you for a second after having gotten used to the moonlight. But once your eyes have adjusted, you cannot help but look at him and smile. He returns the grin, running his hand through his hair to try and untangle the mess it has become.

Picking up his underwear, he also throws you the shirt you were wearing earlier, and you easily catch it and pull it over your head. After that you dig around the bed, look through the chaos of his sheets to spot the black lace of your panties. You find them easily enough, putting them back on, and as you move, you already can tell that you will be sore the next morning.

“Do I even wanna know how late it is? Yes, I do.” Jeongguk mumbles before fidgeting with his phone, letting out a groan once the display light up. “Fuck. It’s 4 am. Not like I have some important things to be at tomorrow morning. My project partners are going to kill me if I fuck up tomorrow.”

“Dude, I have morning classes as well. I’m so going to fall asleep in there.”

He just sighs and puts his phone back, cracking his neck before turning to you. “I’ll go clean myself up. Be right back.”

Standing up you nod at him to go, and the movement makes you feel his cum still inside of you, and it is such an unfamiliar and weird feeling, but there is something about it that makes you all giddy and flustered. “I think I’ll go pee real quick.”

And it’s only when you are sitting on the toilet, that what just happened hits you full force, and your blood rushed up into your cheeks, warming them up and tinting them a deep hue or pink as you rest your face into your hands. You just fucked your best friend. Why the fuck did you fuck your best friend?

But it is not like it feels like a huge fuck up, like your friendship has now somehow changed, or worse, is completely ruined. You have known Jeongguk too long for that, and your bond is too strong. Yet it is something you never once expected to happen. And now that it has, it is confusing you.

Your bare feet pad back into his room after washing your hands, and once in bed, he tugs you against his chest once more, holding you close enough that you can feel his chest move with each breath he takes.

“Honestly, Jeongguk, how did that just happen?”

His voice is muffled by the way he mumbles right into your hair, but you can still make it out clearly. “I don’t know, but I blame you.”

“Wait, what?” You want to turn around, poke him in the face for blaming it on you, or at least hit his chest or something, but he knows you too well, knows all your reaction and he just holds you down with his strength, not letting you move at all and you just give up. “What did I do?”

“Let’s just talk about his tomorrow, Y/N. We need to fucking sleep now.”

“We have like two hours, you know that right?”

He nudges you once, as if he was warning you, before pressing his face further into the crook of your neck. “And if you would be kind enough to shut the fuck up, I might actually get to sleep in those.”

And for once, you listen to him as he tells you to be quiet, because tiredness has settled deeply into your muscles and bones, and they are calling you to go get some rest, to let your body recover, and Jeongguks breathing has already become slow and stable, and it lures you into your dreams like a lullaby.

This time, you fall asleep in his hold, and even with the alarm going off way too soon, you can’t remember the last time you slept that well.