#vantemania:writes

[vantemania]

Used To

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➤ Genre: Fluff, crack, mild smut

➤ Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N (Highschool AU, noona!reader)

➤ Word count: 3k~

➤ A/N: I memed a lot during this & I am not sorry. Also, this was designed to be a series — it may end up as a series of drabbles? Idk, it's a little chaotic since I'm just stream-of-consciousness writing it. I have fun things planned, but no promises on when I'll write for this — It's mostly when I get the urge for this type of subby Tae & I can't find it written the way I want anywhere (if you have fics with this kind of dynamic, feel free to rec!)

➤ Summary: Taehyung was the top-of-his class, handsome, sociable, talented student everyone loved to hate — if he weren't so damn lovable. He was content with the way things were in his life, but it felt like something was missing. That is, until he met you — a talented, self-assured student rivaling his own talents. There was something about you that made Taehyung feel nervous. Something that got his heart beating and tripped him up on words that usually flowed effortlessly with charm.

You made him feel his age — just a high school boy. Human, just like everyone else. Not some sort of idol perched upon a pedestal. Taehyung finally felt something other than mind-numbing boredom, so he decided to chase that feeling. Coincidentally, Taehyung ended up being just the thing you were looking for too.

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It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Taehyung wasn’t supposed to be late to his economics final, and he most certainly wasn’t supposed to be trying to hide a hard-on when he entered the classroom. Thankfully, he was able to use the heavy textbook in his hands as cover, as he apologized to the teacher and made his way to his desk.

Taehyung got settled in his seat and pulled himself close to his desk. With a short ‘thank you’ to his professor for handing him his exam, the boy did his best to focus on the papers in front of him.

How did the Ace student, Kim Taehyung, end up in this state?

Well, for starters, puberty was hitting this boy hard. His growth spurt seemed to come over night, pimples started to form without reason, and hair began growing in new places.

This, Taehyung could live with. What he couldn’t live with, though, was the raging morning wood he’d wake up with every day, and how easy it was for him to get hard — when he didn’t even want to! He wasn’t a pervert, he swore, but it appeared as though any little thing could set him off; could send blood rushing south. It was embarrassing. He didn’t want anyone seeing him like that.

»»---------------------►

Taehyung had confided in his friends. He found out that some of them had already gone through something similar — and they reassured him it was something he would get used to and be able to tame with time. Others told him they never even had a problem with that; and even if they got hard in public, it didn’t show. At that type of response, Taehyung glanced down and felt a little better about his ‘problem’. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have something that heavy between his legs.

What was the worst thing about it all, besides the constant anxiety he'd humiliate himself in public somehow, was that he wasn’t interested in any of the people around him. Taehyung was popular, and he knew this — he had many girls and boys who wanted him. He was the class valedictorian and captain of the swim team.

Additionally, the boy was too charming and good-looking for his own good. It was unfair, really. People either wanted him, or wanted to be him. The school photographer had even gone so far as to say that Taehyung was the easiest to photograph, because he looked good from every angle (if you know, you know).

All of this praise was heard by Taehyung, but it never went to his head. He knew he was just a kid, like everyone else. Sure, he had great prospects for college and even a free ride lined up — if he played his cards right — but he knew that was all due to hard work; feats that anyone could achieve if they set their mind to it. Conceited wasn’t in his vocabulary; his parents had raised him better than that.

Taehyung always strived to put his best foot forward, so when he was late to a final exam, it just didn’t sit right with him. He did his best to focus on the test on his desk. Hell, it wasn’t even like the questions were difficult — I could pass this with my eyes closed. What really lit a fire in his veins was how his mind kept drifting to the same thing; how he constantly had to reel in his thoughts to answer the stupid questions in front of him.

He scribbled in a few more answer bubbles before setting his pencil down and staring out the window, tapping his foot. Analyzing the overcast sky outside, Taehyung came to a decision.

Nodding his head, he returned to his exam — this time in earnest. Why should he have to suffer at your hands? This was his life — his future — he couldn’t just fuck it up because he couldn’t keep his dick thoughts in check. With a final nod to himself, Taehyung decided, yeah... You, you are evil.

Yes, you. You were aware of this exam — how important it was for Taehyung. You had known all about how he was about his grades and his attendance; how pristine he kept his appearance and reputation. You knew all of this, yet you still chose to tease him.

Really, he made it so easy to tease him, in your mind at least. He was innocent... so obviously new to all things intimate, and he had this sweetness to him that was just so endearing.

Other boys his age were learning about their bodies, just like him, but most of them were only seeking release. Taehyung though, it seemed like the thought never even occurred to him. He just... was confused — and wanted to do what he could to continue placing first in his class and captain his swim team, without distraction. With how pure and... uncorrupted he appeared, he caught your eye — and kept it.

Once you had set your sights on Taehyung, he was — for the first time —completely caught off guard. He had gotten used to the advances of the people in his class and those under him, but he had never been approached by someone older than him. Sure, you were only a grade above him, but it felt like forbidden territory to Taehyung.

»»---------------------►

It started during an end-of-the-summer event. It was sort of like a track and field event, but it had more of a ‘field day’ relaxed vibe to it. Teachers and coaches were there, and beer and soju were being sold at the vendor’s tents — for parents and teachers who wanted a little buzz to lessen the boredom of watching kids fumble around all day — so it was quite loose in terms of rules.

Taehyung, in his blue jacket representing the school, a sign with his name on it, and grey sweatpants, was jogging over to his teammates after completing a short distance race — a race he had finished first in — when he first noticed you.

You were competing in the pole vaulting event. A master at all things athletic since childhood, it was nothing to you. You simply ran, placed the pole at the right angle, used its momentum to propel you into the air, and cleared the placed bar — all with calculated ease. You'd done it hundreds of times before. You no longer had to think about it; it had simply become muscle memory. Landing on the soft mat beneath provided a familiar warmth, similar to how you felt when hearing the shocked cheer from onlookers. How used to failure they must be, you always thought. To sound so impressed from something simple as that.

As you removed yourself from the cushy landing pad, your eyes scanned the crowd. Your school was pretty big. But, you had to admit, the turnout of this year’s field day was larger than you expected. You gave high fives to your teammates as you made your way to the water bottles on the nearest bench to you.

Reaching the bench, you noticed all of the water bottles had been taken. Looked like you would have to journey elsewhere to quench your thirst. Thankfully, you had time. Your next appearance wasn’t until the archery event, so you had a little while to relax. And search for a drink apparently.

You were just about to wander in the direction of your vaulting teammates, when a water bottle appeared in front of your face.

“The closest vendor is halfway across the field,” a deep voice said, effectively making your eyes travel from the bottle to the large hand holding it and up his slender, well-sculpted arm to his... alarmingly good looking face. Is he wearing make up? Or maybe his parents are loaded and paid for plastic surgery at a young age...? He looked like such a doll — with his sharp jawline, lips that curved into natural pout, a cute nose with... is that a mole on the tip? Perfectly angled eyebrows framing eyes that were— does he have one double lid and one mono lid? Is that natural, or a fashion statement? His hair looked soft too, chestnut locks peeking out over his hairband — it took everything in you to not just run your fingers through it. Who was this kid? And how had you never met him?

At your silence, the beautiful boy continued warily. “I understand if you don’t want to share. I just thought I’d offer.” His hand holding the water bottle lowered slightly as he looked at it, unsure. He supposed... maybe it was weird to offer a girl he’d never met a water bottle, seemingly out of the blue. But, he had just watched your performance — and to say he was impressed was an understatement. He was fairly certain if he tried pole vaulting he would just end up on the ground, with more than just his pride broken. But you had executed it with such grace, Taehyung found himself mesmerized.

Of course he saw you were looking for a drink. After such an athletic display, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You moved like a piece of art, and he was drawn to you. Taehyung’s next event wasn’t until later; he had time.

Just as he was accepting defeat, you reached out to grasp the bottle. “A drink would be nice, thank you.”

Taehyung watched as you gave him a smile and downed half of the beverage before returning it to him with a satisfied sigh. He was too hung up on the feeling of your fingers brushing his to process much else.

When he realized he could take a sip and his lips would be touching the same thing yours did, something stirred in him. Something he was hoping to keep silent while at his school’s public event.

Covering his lapse up with a cough, Taehyung said it was no problem and turned to attempt to focus on the current events taking place in the field. What a lie. Taehyung spared a nervous glance down. He knew that it wouldn’t stay inconspicuous for long, no matter how he adjusted himself. Fucking grey sweatpants. He prayed that his thoughts would settle down and he could carry out his events incident free. All he needed was to make it through the next one. And then he could go home. And give himself the release he needed so badly.

Luck seemed to be toying with Taehyung that day, though. He had finally calmed himself down and steeled himself for his next appearance. He had his bow ready, eyeing the limited amount of arrows that awaited him at his position. It was time for his last event of the day, and his friends were cheering him on, giving him that extra bit of confidence. Walking out onto the field, Taehyung threw a look at his best friend and said with a wink, “Let's get it,” delighted to see the thumbs up returned from his friend.

Taehyung’s self-assured expression dropped the moment he looked to his left, only to see you, bow and arrow ready.

His head whipped back to the right (he may have felt his neck crack) just to mouth, “Oh fuck,” to his friends, before returning to face you with a cheerful grin — one he hoped had the ‘happy to see you’ vibe, but not the ‘too happy to see you’ vibe. It was a delicate balance between the two. And right then, Taehyung was feeling off-kilter.

“You’re in the archery event as well,” he started, giving you a small bow. “I didn’t get your name earlier. I’m Kim Taehyung.” I sound like a fucking robot.

He heard his friends snickering from where they were watching on the sidelines. They hadn’t missed how he had been ogling you all day, and they hadn’t missed Taehyung’s little 'problem' earlier either. Taehyung fought the urge to turn around and glare at them, opting to continue smiling at you instead. Was he smiling too much? Which side of the fine line between friendly and creepy was he currently on in your mind? Oh god, she probably thinks I'm crazy. The smile faltered on his face. Fuck. Why can't I just be normal around her?

With a smile like his, you almost forgot to reply. “Oh, I’m Y/N! Archery is actually my main event.”

You weren’t sure why you told him that, as it meant you needed to perform especially well now. You shouldn’t have been worried anyway — archery was your strength; it wasn’t a bluff. It’s just that... Well, if you did particularly bad, he’d think you were a liar. Which, normally you wouldn’t care about. It wasn’t like you paid much attention to other’s opinions of you.

For whatever reason, you didn’t want this particular person to have a bad view of you. You wanted to see that cute little boxy grin more. You were just starting to wonder how you hadn’t noticed him around school before, when he spoke again — in that velvety voice that was quickly becoming one of your favorite sounds.

“Oh, it’s not pole vaulting?” Taehyung knew he fucked up the moment the words left his mouth and was mentally cursing himself as soon as he saw your eyes narrow slightly, eyebrow piqued in curiosity. Still, Taehyung kept a nonchalant look on his face, as if he wasn’t screaming on the inside.

“So you watched that event?” The gears were starting to turn in your head. Deciding to probe him a little, you asked a question. “Did one of your friends compete?”

Under your scrutiny, Taehyung felt his face heating up. He rubbed his neck as he answered. “Um, no... I just, was in the area and ended up watching.”

You pursed your lips in thought, not missing the way his eyes followed the movement. “Why did you think it was my main event?”

“Because you looked like a pro at it,” came his automatic answer. He wasn’t even going to fight it — Taehyung knew his secret was compromised already. He always was bad at hiding his feelings.

The air between you two was shifting — more and more — as you put the pieces together and realized you had the upper hand. Here you thought you were crushing on the boy first, when in reality — he was already watching you. He’d watched you take first place in the event, appeared out of thin air (seemingly) with a water bottle when you needed it most, and now, here he was again — standing by your side and looking increasingly flustered as your conversation went on. Or, well, maybe it was more like an interrogation on your part, but you couldn’t help it. His responses were so honest and so... cute.

The information you had gotten from just that small interaction was more than enough to put a smile on your face, so you chose to back off with the questions... for the time being. The event was about to officially start anyway.

With a slight tilt of your head, you let out a happy hum. “Hm, well, allow me to show you what a pro archer looks like too~” You grinned at Taehyung, readying your bow once again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the boy visibly relax — relieved you didn’t press further with your questions no doubt. Huh, I'm going to have fun with this one.

»»---------------------►

“Please noona...” he whined quietly, his voice breaking as he fought to keep himself from rubbing against you, against anything.

“Please what? ... Hmm? I don't know what you want unless you tell me... V,” you drawled with a slight smirk, letting your eyes travel down his body, eyes landing on the obvious bulge tenting his red basketball shorts.

You were tempted to close the gap between you two and grind against it, feeling his warm hardness pressing against you, pulsing with every beat of his heart.

But, that wasn't how this game worked.

Taehyung looked down shyly at the nickname, a small smile on his lips. You had jokingly given it to him after you’d taken his virginity, his V card. And he coincidentally revealed V was actually one of his many nicknames — used mostly only by his inner circle.

»»---------------------►

Now, whenever one of them called him that — because of you — all he could picture was you on top of him, watching his hard, throbbing cock slowly disappear into you inch by inch, as you lowered yourself onto him, painstakingly slow and controlled. Your wet, tight heat was the best thing he’d ever experienced. And he wanted— no, needed, more. Always more.

These thoughts didn't bode well around his friends. How the fuck would he explain a stiffy, when one of them was just trying to get his attention and talk to him? He really needed to get his hormones under control.

There were ways to combat it right? To fight your primal needs? It’s almost like he was fighting a war of hormone. (this is Jin's fault)

»»---------------------►

Just last week, while they were at after-school track practice, they were doing stretches to warm up.

Taehyung wasn't the most flexible person, to say the least.

So, Jimin, being the kindest soulmate he was, took it upon himself to help Taehyung out. By the means of sitting behind Taehyung, pressed up against him, holding on to his hands, and pushing forward — so Taehyung could be closer to reaching his toes and stretching the muscles that so badly needed it. All of that was fine and normal.

However, Jimin chose this time to talk as well. “Yah, V...” he whispered into Taehyung's ear, causing Taehyung to involuntarily shiver against Jimin's body.

Taehyung could merely grunt in response as Jimin pushed his torso further forward.

“You know...” Jimin continued.

Taehyung did not like the tone of his voice. It was the one that told him Jimin was up to something, or he had something sly on his mind.

“You should really take this seriously, stretching and becoming more flexible I mean.”

Although in pain, as they practiced back and forth, trying to reach further with every stretch, Taehyung raised an eyebrow in question. “You don’t think I’m taking this seriously?”

Not that Taehyung could see it, but he could hear and feel the small exhale of breath signaling a laugh from his soulmate. “No,” Jimin giggled. “I didn’t mean about track,” he clarified.

Taehyung was confused. “Then what did you— agh! You’re going to break my spine—" He winced at the new pressure.

Jimin immediately backed off, but remained seated behind Taehyung, one hand rubbing his arm and the other his back.

Taehyung continued, more comfortable. “Then what did you mean?”

Jimin smirked, pleased at Taehyung finally taking the bait. “Oh V...” he started—

— Bringing Taehyung’s mind back to you. He had just gotten past it too, damnit.

“Don’t ever stop being your sweet, innocent self,” Jimin cooed, rubbing Taehyung’s back gently.

Pretty much offended, Taehyung turned to look at Jimin, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, pout prominent as fuck. “Just tell me, you undercooked rice cake.”

Jimin thrived off of the insult, satisfied he got Taehyung all worked up so easily. “I meant,” Jimin started, an infuriating roll of his eyes — he knew exactly what he was doing and loved every moment of it, “flexibility can come in handy, outside of track, that’s all,” he finished nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

Taehyung was fed up by then. Signature blank intimidating look blanketing his face. All efforts to actually stretch were forgotten. “Oh?” He feigned interest. “Give me an example.” Taehyung knew what Jimin was doing. He also knew playing along was the best way to keep Jimin from thinking his 'sweet, innocent' Taehyung was secretly not so innocent anymore.

A shit-eating grin adorned Jimin's features. “What kind of example? There’s many to choose from.”

“Jimin I swear—“ Taehyung stopped to collect himself, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He tried again. “Jimin, will you please just tell me what you’re getting at? We have to start soon.”

The grin on Jimin's face brightened, if even possible, at the word ‘please’. “Okay I’ll tell you.”

Taehyung sighed, slumping forward in relaxation.

Jimin leaned forward as well, wrapping his arms around Taehyung's torso, moving his lips to his ear. Speaking lowly so no one else could hear, “I’ll bestow this wisdom upon you—“

Taehyung jerked and went to pull away, nonplussed, but Jimin pulled him back. “It may be a small thing,” he continued into Taehyung's ear, the boy listening avidly, albeit a bit disgruntled at the moment. What ridiculous shit's about to come out of his mouth?

“But, being flexible opens up so many doors in bed. Especially if you’re both flexible—“

Taehyung's eyebrows had disappeared into his bangs. He knew this was what Jimin was hinting at, but he didn't think his friend would actually go there. And so bluntly, too. Images flooded Taehyung's mind — of bending you over a desk, of pushing you on your back with your legs folded against your chest, of you bending in every which way he needed, screaming and moaning his name. Were you flexible? What would you sound like pushed to your limits? What would you look like? He needed to know.

A hand waved in front of Taehyung's face.

“Helloo? Still with me?” came Jimin's voice, and Taehyung turned to see his friend’s concerned face staring at him.

He blinked, trying to clear his mind. “Uh. yeah... yes!” Taehyung attempted to supply enthusiastically. “I get what you’re saying.” After he paused in thought. “I’d like to try more positions," he added, trying for the most innocent, inquisitive tone he could muster.

Jimin, who had been drinking from his water bottle during the free time he had whilst Taehyung formulated a response, choked on a sip and began coughing, holding his chest.

Eyes wide, Taehyung went into protect-mode for his soulmate. “Are you okay? What can I do?” Concern heavy in his face, hands itching to help, but unsure what to do.

Jimin continued coughing, but responded through them. “Just— swallowed down the — wrong tube — I’ll be fine,“ he wheezed, waving a hand as he tried to contain his coughing. After a few moments and a proper sip of his water, Jimin began to recover. He cleared his throat and leaned back on his hands, breathing becoming steady once again. “Did you have any... positions in mind?” He threw the line out there hoping to bait Taehyung again. Not even a near-death choking experience could put a dent in his mischievous nature.

Legs stretched out, torso leaned forward, hands flat on the floor between his legs, Taehyung was looking down. He tried to just look at the practice floor below him. But all he could see was you beneath him, his hands gripping your hips until his fingers left bruises. Agh. Fuck you for plaguing his mind with thoughts of only you. Why should my mind even be on her? He shook his head and fluffed out his hair in frustration. Who am I kidding?

First of all, looking down — he saw his hands on nothing but cold, black, scuffed flooring, his long legs dressed in sweats at either side, and, if he moved his eyes closer to himself, an embarrassing bulge threatening to become obvious if he couldn’t calm down. Wearing sweatpants was a bad idea. That's it, I'm throwing away all my sweatpants. Wearing boxers was a worse idea. Only briefs from now on, even if they're less comfortable.

Second of all, would you even have let him put you in the positions he had in mind? Not likely...

Third — and most important! —Maybe not the most urgent, but went in the important quadrant: Would you even want to sleep with him again?

Was it a one-and-done thing?

You got the urge out of you, right? Or... maybe you liked taking virginities? He was so so unsure.

Another hand in the face.

This time, Jimin had taken it upon himself to move from behind Taehyung and relocate in front of him, adopting the same position as Taehyung, however having one leg bent and the other enveloping Taehyung’s.

Taehyung looked up, jolted back to the real world. Jimin had an eyebrow raised, lips pursed. “Taehyung-ah, are you okay?”

The sincerity made Taehyung’s heart drop. He put on his best fake smile. “Mhm, I'm fine Jimin-ah~ I’ve been so spacey today... I didn’t get much sleep last night. But I’m okay.”

Jimin eyed him warily. “...Fine, but I still want you to answer my question before practice starts.”

Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat. Damn. And he thought he had gotten away with it. “O-okay” he responded, rubbing his neck. Disguising his discomfort as him massaging a knot out of it, he asked, “What did you ask again?”

Jimin knew better. This was his best friend and soulmate, after all. He knew all of his body language cues, all the meanings behind his changes in tone, the words he would say, the looks he would give. And he knew Taehyung knew all of this too. Because, likewise, Taehyung knew all of Jimin's cues. So, in this case — Taehyung knew Jimin knew something was up. But Jimin could tell Taehyung didn’t want to address it yet. So, Jimin let this 'skirting around the real truth' happen.

A delicate balance of understanding and allowing your mate to go through the motions and be there for them, letting them learn things on their own, and not letting them get into things that are beyond the scope of what needs to be experienced in life.

Anyway.

One side of Jimin's mouth lifted in a teasing smirk. “I asked...” he started, whilst stretching his arms, to make it look like the two of them were still getting ready and not gossiping. “If you had any positions in mind,” he finished, cracking his neck while staring Taehyung in the eye.

Taehyung recognized the dangerous glint in his soulmate’s gaze. And he wanted to add fire to it. He had seen the switch in Jimin moments before — a silent agreement to keep things light, for the time being. So, Taehyung took his hands and laced his fingers together, stretching them above his head, behind his back, and finally forward — reaching to touch Jimin's chest. “I thought maybe you could recommend some, given your expertise,” Taehyung remarked as if he didn’t care, despite having both of his hands held by Jimin's tiny soft ones at that point.

Almost speechless with joy, Jimin gripped Taehyung’s hands tightly. “I’ll show you,” was all he said, smile turning his eyes into crescent moons.

Taehyung laughed at the cuteness of his friend, too tired to press further as practice was about to begin — but he gave his soulmate’s hands another squeeze and whispered into his ear before getting up. “So show me.”

»»---------------------►

“P-please... touch me,” Taehyung whimpered softly, almost falling apart. He was so hard, he could feel his heartbeat coursing through his cock, as if it had its own. And it was only lunch period. He couldn't make it through the rest of the day like this.

You moved closer, reveling in the solitude you two had found on the roof of the school. It was surprising others didn't use this during lunchtime. Well, you’d heard there was a system — the rooftop wasn't for just anybody... Apparently that rumor wasn't all talk.

However, you had always been that floater — able to get in with any crowd, no strings attached on your end. You made connections wherever you wanted them.

You palmed Taehyung's cock through his shorts and ate up the high-pitched whimper that delved into a deep moan coming from the boy before you. “Y/N...” he almost groaned, the sensation of his dick in your hands as you stroked up and down at a relaxed pace becoming almost too much.

With a sly smile on your face, you dropped down on your knees and continued stroking him, finally pulling him from the confines of his clothes. You savored the hiss that came from him as his cock met the cool air. Coquettish eyes gazed up at a breathless Taehyung from beneath your lashes as you began to slowly lick from the base of his balls all the way up to his head, where you teased the tip before gently sucking on it, tongue flicking over the slit.

“Fuck...!” You could feel him tense under you, and you took his cock into your mouth gently, providing that soft heat you knew he craved.

Taehyung pushed you off of him after a few bobs. Wiping the excess spit from your mouth, you looked to him for an explanation. But the only explanation you needed was his fucked-out face and blown pupils.

“Noona.” His eyes were pleading. “I need to be inside of you.”

»»---------------------►

You gave his tip a tantalizing little kiss before you wiped your mouth and got back on your feet, not missing the stunted whimper he tried to hold back as you did.

“Here?” You lifted an eyebrow, scanning your surroundings. Sure, you were on a rooftop alone, but what about all of the other buildings nearby? So many of them were taller, anyone looking could've seen you.

Taehyung’s eyes follow yours, and he hurriedly stuffed himself inside of his briefs and pulled up his shorts. “M-maybe not here but... “ he looked around, racking his brain for any place that would've been deemed safe.

You stepped forward, hindering the boy’s thoughts and making him step back nervously. “But what?”

Your voice was soft. You were playing coy.

He knew you were doing it on purpose. And he knew it was working on him. He was incredibly frustrated. Taehyung's brow furrowed as he looked down at you — at least he had an advantage in height.

“But...” Taehyung stared at you for a few seconds before looking away, biting his lip. His hands snaked around your waist and gently pulled your hips to his. You gasped at the feeling of him pressed up against you, but tried to keep it quiet — this was your game after all.

Still gripping your hips flush to his, he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I know a place we can go.”

Intrigued, “And where’s that, V?” you asked sweetly, rolling your hips into his, eliciting a lewd moan from him.

His hold on you tightened, stopping you from being able to move at all. You pulled away in question, only to be met with a darkness in his gaze. He didn't seem to be playing around anymore.

“V...?” Your voice was tentative, not having seen that look in his eyes before.

Taehyung said nothing and instead guided you backwards, hands on your hips in a bruising grasp.

“What ar—“ Your breath left you in a gasp as your back met a cement wall. Taehyung released one hand to grip the back of your neck and pull you together into a feverishly delicious kiss.

His other hand traveled its way up your body as you both kissed, messy and breathless, sliding up to grip your face in an endearingly strong yet soft way, the hand on your neck also sliding forward in a warm caress, until he had your face between his hands, his hips grinding into you, his need for you clearly communicated.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer, if possible. Your knees began to feel like jelly, but you were determined not to show how affected you are — so you stood your ground and ground your hips into Taehyung's as well, indulging in the low moan that left his mouth, and taking it all in with your own. He sounded so sinful when he was lost in the moment.

He broke away only when he needed to breathe, a line of spit connecting the two of you while you both panted for air. You felt small under Taehyung’s intense gaze, but then he broke into a smile and dipped to kiss your cheek.

“We can go to the locker rooms,” came his breathless response to your question.

You stilled.

“Wait— What? The... The locker rooms. Are you serious?” You wrinkled your nose. “That’s the best you could come up—“

Taehyung kissed you quiet, pulling back to smile at you fondly. “It sounds worse than it is,” he supplied, as if that would solve everything.

Unconvinced, you squinted up at him and give him a quick peck on the lips for good measure. “Go on...” You noticed his eyes held no trace of that dark demeanor from before. Did I just imagine it?

As Taehyung thought about it, the smirk you loved and hated appeared on his face. “Well... it’s not as dirty as you think." He shifted his eyes from the sky back to you, trying to nail in the sincerity. “And I know when people will be in there versus when it’s empty. And right now—“ He paused to pull his phone out of his pocket. "—there’s no reason for anyone to be there.” He slipped his phone away and looked at you, a slight smile on his face. “And we have about 15 minutes until lunch break is over.”

You had a tiny internal battle at this. Boys locker room — gross. Could get caught — not fun. But. You had a Kim Taehyung in front of you, hard and more than eager — just for you. And you couldn't deny how your underwear was becoming soaked through. The pros outweighed the cons, clearly.

Taehyung tilted his head at your silence, a crease forming between his brows. “... If you don’t want to noona, you can tell—“

You cut him off with a swift kiss, pulling back just as quickly. “No I—,” you took a breath, looking anywhere but him. “—I think we should go for it."

Taehyung stared down at you. Oh... maybe I didn't imagine it? What's this? You barely suppressed a shiver. Taehyung was looking at you like he could eat you alive. He released his grip on your waist, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Oh, fuck...” he groaned while looking away, holding his hands to his head. He stepped away from you. Pulling his hands from his face, Taehyung peered at you. Once again, the darkness in his gaze had vanished without a trace, his entire demeanor shifting back to the Taehyung you were used to. What's this... other side?

“Noona.”

You almost forgot to reply, drinking in his presence before you. You were ready to devour him yourself.

“Y-yes?”

Taehyung appeared conflicted. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, almost like he was steeling himself for something, before reopening them and fixing you with a predatory gaze.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

[vantemania]

Blossoming

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

➤ Genre: Fluff, crack

➤ Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

➤ Word count: 1.1k

➤ A/N: This is just a super fluffy nervous Jungkook drabble I couldn't help thinking of the first time I saw him in that fit. It's pre-date btw! Imagine in the second gif he's got that date on his mind~ all cute & overthinking things 💛 ALSO, I have to say — when I chose the ahem... combination of the outfit Taehyung picks, I had no idea Tae had truly put those things together before irl... (& made it look amazing ofc)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"No one told me it would be this hard!" Dragging his hands down his face, Jungkook stared at his wardrobe with pure resentment. Everyone was always commenting on how 'boyfriend' he dressed, so why the fuck couldn't he figure out what to wear for a date?

Jungkook cast a longing look at his oversized T-shirts and collection of hoodies; he'd return to them soon. But for tonight, he needed something more... refined.

Earlier in the week, Jungkook had finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date. He'd been pining after you ever since you tripped over your own feet and spilled the contents of your bag, revealing anime keychains and video game themed pens. When he returned your Mario pen to you and you smiled in embarrassment, uttering a quiet thank you — he knew he wanted to be the reason you smiled from then on, and he needed to know what the sound of your laughter was like. It wasn't love at first sight, but he certainly felt something bloom in his chest.

The door to Jungkook's room inched open silently. Taehyung peeked in, taking in the scene before him. It appeared as though Jungkook's entire wardrobe was scattered about his room. Taehyung had experienced the maknae's indecision on an outfit before, but he'd never seen it this bad. Glancing at Jungkook, Taehyung noticed his hands were covering his face. He was still oblivious to Taehyung's presence. The boy seemed to be going through a crisis already, so Taehyung decided to be nice and spook him as little as possible.

With a tiny knock on the open door, Taehyung broke Jungkook out of his mental monologue. "Uh... I heard shouting and things crashing so I... came to check on you."

At the sound of his hyung's voice, Jungkook startled, his hands dropping from his face immediately. Taehyung snickered at the look of bewilderment mixed with something else... desperation? On Jungkook's face. "Looks like you could use some help?"

Hope dawned on the maknae's face, previously distraught eyes now sparkling. "Please? I don't have anything to wear," he whined.

With a tilt of his head, Taehyung smirked at the pleading look on Jungkook's face. "I'm sure I have a thing or two I could lend you for the night."

»»---------------------►

Jungkook checked himself out in the full length mirror in the hallway — he was never convinced it was a necessary component in the apartment before, but Jin had insisted on it, saying no home was complete without a full length mirror, and how else was he supposed to see just how handsome he looked that day?

Today, however, Jungkook was thankful. He fluffed his hair one more time — just to shake it out of his eyes — before taking a deep breath and heading down the hallway. Exhaling, he closed his eyes momentarily, a grin forming on his face. He was finally going to see you outside of class. Nervous didn't even begin to explain how he felt right then. Giddy, excited, antsy, terrified? He hoped you wouldn't think he was weird. All signs so far had pointed to you not hating him — hell, he'd take what he could get, just to see you smile was enough for him. With this on his mind, Jungkook bounded into the living room, a spring in his step.

Namjoon, who was lounging on the sofa watching TV, took one look at the boy who was practically vibrating with nerves and glee. "Jungkook." He muted the TV. "Come here for a second."

Halting mid-step, Jungkook obeyed, curious as to what his hyung wanted to say. Maybe he'd offer some sage advice? Or wish him good luck?

"Yes Namjoon hyung?" He answered, stepping in front of Namjoon's seated figure.

The older boy took a moment to scan Jungkook from head to toe. "You're going on a date?”

"Yes~" Jungkook beamed, a bright toothy smile enveloping his face.

"It's the first date, right?" Namjoon asked, quirking his brow. His eyes landed on one target. No, two.

Under his intense gaze, Jungkook shifted his feet. "Yes," he answered again, starting to feel his anxiety from earlier returning.

Namjoon took a deep breath. He considered how lucky the boys were to have a hyung like him to guide them. "I would reconsider that outfit."

Jungkook froze. "Wh- but why hyung?" He looked at himself, suddenly self conscious. He really thought he and Taehyung had come up with a solid first date look.

It took everything in Namjoon to not just deadpan his response. Namjoon settled on sighing instead. "Taehyung helped you, didn't he?"

"Ah... he did. Why?" Jungkook shifted back and forth on his feet, fingers fiddling with one another.

With a chuckle under his breath, Namjoon shook his head. Of course. "Jungkook. I admire Taehyung's sense of style most days, but you can't go on your first date wearing Gucci slippers and plaid pants."

»»---------------------►

Returning from his room, Jungkook crossed the hallway to Namjoon's room — where he had migrated to after trying to save Jungkook from making the mistake of being too..? Eccentric. For his first date with you. Impressions were everything, after all.

Namjoon glanced away from his computer's monitor as the younger boy entered. "There, now doesn't that feel so much better?" he asked, appraising the new and improved outfit.

Adjusting the sleeves on his yellow button-up, Jungkook grinned. "Do you really think she'll like this, hyung?"

Namjoon gave him a once over. "Well, if she has any taste, she will," he said.

The grin on Jungkook's face widened, crinkling his eyes. "I guess I'm about to find out," he replied, checking his watch.

"Go get 'em kid," Namjoon said, regarding the maknae leaving his room with a fondness in his eyes.

Jungkook reached the front door, after patting himself down to make sure he didn't forget anything. Phone, wallet, keys... He should be good.

His phone buzzed right after he patted his pocket to check it — a text from you saying you were on your way to meet him. A shy smile tugged at his lips.

Jungkook quickly texted you an answer before pocketing his phone and opening the door to his home. With one look over his shoulder before leaving, he adjusted the sleeves to his shirt once more and grinned.

"Let's get it."

[vantemania]

Just Close Your Eyes

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

➤ Genre: Angst, fluff, mild smut?

➤ Pairing: Yoongi x YN

➤ Word count: 3.2k~

➤ A/N: this derailed fast idk

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Passing by the edge of the cold winter. Until the days of spring. Until the days of flower blossoms... Please stay, please stay there a little longer.

The wind stirred up your hair as you waited for the train to pull into the station. Stuffing your hands in your coat pockets, you regretted the confidence you left your apartment with that you wouldn't need gloves. Had you checked your weather app, you would've seen the drastic dip in temperature and the snow in the forecast.

Blinking snowflakes from your eyelashes, you checked your phone again, rereading the text from your boyfriend telling what train car he would be on.

Moments later, a horn blared. You jumped slightly, and your eyes lifted from your phone to watch as the train of interest pulled into the station. As it slowed down, your eyes followed each train car, searching for him, your person in life.

The train finally came to a halt. Phone in your hands, you stood on your tiptoes to look as far as your sight would allow — as if being taller would give an advantage. Your phone buzzed in your hand.

[ Yooni: i see you ]

Your eyes darted up from your phone, searching around. Unable to see Yoongi, you typed back —

[ Y/N: tell me where to go ! ]

The train would only be stopped for another minute, if you were lucky.

[ Yooni: you really can't see me? i'm hurt ]

With a huff, you typed back quickly.

[ Y/N: baby :( ]

There was no time for games, and you both knew it. So, with his tongue in his cheek, a small smirk formed.

[ Yooni: don't move ]

Confused, panic rose up in your chest. Was something wrong? Body tensing up, your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for signs of anything out of place.

You went to text Yoongi back, but a pair of warm arms wrapped around your torso from behind, a head nestling into the side of your neck. The gasp that left your lips brought a low chuckle out of the person — you immediately recognized as the one you'd been searching for.

Relaxing into his embrace, you nuzzled your head softly into his, placing the hand not holding your phone over his own hands clasped around your stomach. They felt so warm.

Yoongi flinched when you did so, earning a pout from you. But when he followed up with, "Kitten, you're freezing. Let's get you somewhere warm," and gently began to steer you in the direction of the open train car, you melted into a smile, allowing him to walk you wherever.

Today was your anniversary with Yoongi. It would mark 2 years with him. After university, the two of you had received opportunities that would've brought the casual couple apart. Your new, budding jobs required you to be far apart. But, after a lengthy conversation full of tears and confessions, Yoongi and you agreed to try long distance.

It had been about 7 months since then, and the two of you had only been able to meet a few times. Definitely less than a handful. You missed him with your whole fucking chest. You never knew how much it could hurt to be away from your soulmate until you met them.

"Don't waste your time worrying about me so much," you murmured obstinately, praying the blush rising in your cheeks would be hidden by the redness they already had from the cold, weakly trying to pull your half-frozen hands from Yoongi's warm grip on them.

His hold only tightened, locking you in place with a firm, yet gentle grasp.

Your eyes traveled up from his arms — layered in a leather jacket, the fit impeccable — to his broad shoulders, maybe lingered too long on his sinfully kissable (read: bitable) neck. Then, you saw the half smirk of his lips, curiosity causing your gaze to flick to his eyes finally.

With a small tilt to his head, Yoongi responded, "It's never a waste if it's about you."

He squeezed your hands, and your heart skipped a beat. Or two. If it weren't for the noise of the train running and passengers mingling, you were sure Yoongi would've been able to hear it going wild.

A shuddery breath left you as you prepared to speak, but Yoongi continued.

Leaning closer to you, he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before drifting to your ear, whispering in that hypnotic tone of his, "I have an idea how to warm you up." Accompanied by bite to your earlobe, forcing a surprised gasp out of you.

Your hand flew up to you mouth to cover it, eyes checking the proximity for witnesses to your exchange, but it seemed the two of you were in your own world.

Hesitantly, you shifted your gaze to him, marveling in how handsome he looked. With his black leather jacket, black ripped jeans, the chain around his neck, the rings on his fingers, that mint green hair messily laid across his sharp eyes — the eyes that were staring at you full of desire and passion —

"Kitten?" you heard, your eyes drifting down to his lips. "Are you listening?" You watched the smirk reappear. How badly you wanted —

"Can I kiss you?" left your mouth in a breathy whisper before your mind could approve.

A finger to your chin brought you out of your trance, Yoongi tilting it up to request you look him in the eyes.

Recognizing the glint in his gaze, a small sense of dread flowed through you, also flooding the lingerie you had chosen to wear for the special night. You bit your cheek to prevent a whimper from leaving your mouth. How had you gotten so lucky? Someone so handsome, so sexy, yet gentle and caring. And he had chosen you. You couldn't help but to feel the universe was on your side.

Observant as ever, Yoongi noticed you clenching your thighs together. His feline-like eyes dropped down to your lap, free hand moving down to your thigh and giving it a squeeze, eliciting a stunted exhale from you.

His hand drew closer as he leaned into you, forcing you to look into his eyes — as his wandering hand had made your eyes flutter shut, the desire to touch him becoming near unbearable.

"Is that all you want?" he whispered, choosing to break eye contact in order to place kisses along your jaw, leading down to your neck, where he began to ravish your skin, biting and suckling gently, but still deep enough to leave marks.

A moan threatened to bubble up from your throat, so you clamped it down by biting your tongue. Wincing in pain, you lightly pushed Yoongi off of you so he'd look at you.

Your eyes were pulled down to his pouty lips, swollen and wet from the kisses. They looked like sin itself inviting you to the pits of hell, which you'd gladly slide into, if it meant spending eternity with the beautiful man beside you.

"I just want—"

You were stopped by his finger coming to rest on your lips.

"Eyes up here, kitten."

You didn't know why or how you could feel shy around Yoongi, after all the time you've spent together — you chalked it up to your heart always fluttering around your soulmate.

"Hmm~" A fond smile formed on your face as you met Yoongi's eyes once again.

His smirk grew into a fond smile as well, a hand coming to caress the back of your head as he tilted his head slightly, unable to keep up the strict act. Yoongi had been craving you ever since you both parted. Now that he finally had you in his arms again, he didn't feel like he could hold back.

"Try again baby," Yoongi murmured, patting your head gently, completely enamored by you.

He had to keep himself from cooing as a pretty pout took over your face.

You momentarily looked away, in an attempt to center yourself, then met Yoongi's gaze again.

"I want you."

Yoongi sat back, and you were about to launch complaints, when the sound of boyish giggles met your ears. You caught the sight of Yoongi biting his lower lip in an attempt to hide his smile before he covered his mouth with his hand, eyes cast down shyly.

You wiped your own growing grin from your face with your arm and cleared your throat. "Well," you spoke as you stood up from your seat. "I'll be back. Don't follow me baby," you teased, sending a smirk over your shoulder as you headed to the train car's bathroom.

"I've waited so long," he whispered between kisses, heated breath on your skin.

"To see you." A kiss on your neck.

"To meet you." A kiss on your jawline.

"To love you." A kiss on your lips.

Melting into the sensation, you returned Yoongi's kiss with fervor, a hand locking in his hair. An experimental (yet calculated) tug elicited a deep groan from him, which in turn went straight to your core (and his dick). It's been so long. You were so hungry for him.

A bite to your lower lip had you loosening your grip.

"Y/N..." Yoongi all but groaned, grinding his hips into you, making you feel his arousal. "Look what you've done to me." His hands took ahold of your hips, turning you around to face the sink and mirror, and he pulled you to him, his erection pressing into your lower back.

Placing your hands on the cheap surface of the counter and bending forward, you couldn't stop yourself from glancing up at Yoongi in the mirror. His fucked out expression and hair messy from your tousling, the thin layer of sweat on his forehead, the pink in his cheeks, the biting of those luscious lips you wished you were kissing. How could one have been so beautiful?

Who knows how long you had by yourselves, so you bit your lip and asked, "How can I make it better?" A coy tone of voice, while pushing your butt back onto him.

Strong hands gripped your hips, bringing them to a halt.

"Look at me," came the command.

Eyes flicking up to meet Yoongi's in the mirror, you almost let out a gasp at the expression he wore. He looked like a king about to conquer what was his. And that's what you were. His.

"Good girl," he eventually said, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

Yoongi began to grind into you, hands touching all over. Once his dick touched your ass, any rational thought was thrown out the window. All you wanted was him inside of you.

"We don't have much time," you choked out in a whine, seeing as how Yoongi chose that exact time to rub your clit.

He brought his hands together to undo your jeans, pulling them down as well as your underwear, whilst placing soft kisses on the back of your neck and chomping down here and there to keep you on your toes.

"Patience little one," Yoongi whispered, looking you in the mirror, and you heard the sound of a zipper behind you. "We have our entire lives for this— fuck... Kitten do you miss me that much?You're so wet," Yoongi moaned, sliding his dick through your folds.

Legs trembling, you tried to push backward into Yoongi, but his hands stayed firm.

A small whine left your lips.

"Answer me.” It came out as a groan, Yoongi sliding his cock back and forth, gaining the slick wetness from you.

The tip of his cock brushed against your clit, and you clenched, a silent gasp leaving your lips. "I-" you caved, "I miss you so much," you panted, desperate to feel him inside you, for him to fill you up. "Please," you whispered in a sigh.

"Please what, kitten?" vibrated through your ear as Yoongi whispered.

With your cheeks thoroughly flushed, you replied, "Please f—"

The breath left your lungs as the room jerked. With a tight hold on you, Yoongi kept the both of you steady, but with the look of confusion and panic, it was safe to say the mood had shifted.

Slowly standing straight up, you glanced around. "What was... that?"

Without releasing you from his grip, Yoongi also looked around, appearing as unsure as you. "Maybe we turned a sharp cor—"

Another jolt jostled the two of you, your hands scrambling to hold onto anything, naturally finding Yoongi as your anchor.

Yoongi quickly tucked his now half hard dick into his pants and zipped them up, while you redressed yourself as well — before grabbing your hand and exiting the bathroom, not caring who saw.

As it turned out, no one was paying attention anyway. The other passengers were panicking, making phone calls, crying, or shouting.

Yoou and Yoongi slid back into your seats unnoticed, confusion written all over your faces.

Amidst the chaos, Yoongi tried to seek out someone to provide answers. Across the aisle, a man was sitting in silence, head in his hands.

Yoongi hesitated, but another jolt to the train decided action for him. He tentatively tapped on the man's shoulder.

The man froze at the contact, then slowly raised his head. The look in his eyes was of pure despair. It threw Yoongi off guard, so much so that he stuttered through his question. "D-do you know wha- uh, what's happening?"

The man's expression changed to one of disbelief. "Did you not hear the conductor?"

The tilt of Yoongi's head and following silence told the man all he needed. A look of pity enveloped his face, which Yoongi did not like.

"Just tell me what's going on," he pressed, not feeling patient at all. "Please."

The male paused and pressed his lips together, appearing to deliberate what he wanted to disclose to Yoongi.

Your arms wrapped around Yoongi's waist from behind, resting your head on his shoulder, helping him to relax a little. Moments later, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours, bringing a smile to your face, which Yoongi could feel on his shoulder blade. Despite the situation, you always knew just how to calm him down.

Having watched the exchange, the man pursed his lips, then made his decision. You were both going to find out anyway. He reasoned it would be better to know beforehand and be able to prepare — if preparing was even a thing to be associated with this.

With a sigh, the man shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Not that this matters," he started, regaining both you and Yoongi's attention, "But, I'm Namjoon. And this train is about to crash." He said it so simply, as if he'd already accepted his fate.

Both you and Yoongi malfunctioned, trying to process what the man — Namjoon apparently — had just said.

Yoongi was about to throw a dig the man's way, when an ear-piercing screeching sound rang throughout the space.

Everyone lifted their hands to their ears immediately. What the fuck was happening?

You looked out one of the windows and saw you were approaching a bridge. Which was fine, until you spotted the massive tree that had toppled over from the weight of too much snow and had managed to cause a chain of events leading to a fucking gap in the bridge.

Looking down made it worse. So much worse. This bridge happened to be a connecting point between two mountains, dipping to a ravine below that joined with the ocean.

The sound of Yoongi shouting at Namjoon or any of the passengers blurred out into a buzz. Your heart felt like it was being squeezed, with no way out of Death's unforgiving grip. Robotically, your arms removed themselves from Yoongi and came to hug yourself, the growing screams of the passengers sounding distant in your ears.

You watched a passenger in front of you open their window and climb out, trying to escape the oncoming fall. You didn't even look back to know their body was mangled and beyond hopeless.

Staring out the window, staring your doom in the face, you disassociated, a blank look blanketing your features, making your eyes dim.

It was only after you were being held, being shaken, hearing your name being called, you returned to the present disaster.

The clouds began to clear from your vision, and you saw Yoongi in front of you. His eyes were full of so much concern, you immediately wanted to fix whatever was causing him pain. Then, it came back to you, as your hearing filtered back in, the sounds of the train's breaks screeching, the passengers screaming —

"Y/N look at me."

The desperation caught you off guard and brought your focus to Yoongi. Only him. Your hand unconsciously reached up to caress his cheek as you gazed at him wordlessly.

It hurt to look at him. There were too many emotions in his eyes, as you were sure mirrored yours. It hurt too much. You went to look away, but he placed a hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him again.

Tears welled up in your eyes. "Yoongi, what's happening?" You couldn't keep your voice from breaking.

You went to look away, hearing the frenzy heightening, but Yoongi held your chin still in his gentle grasp, eyes pleading. "Don't worry kitten. Just look at me."

You gave in, even as the entire car began rumbling.

Seeing you attempt to nod your head, a sort of smile took over his face, before he cast his gaze down.

"Hey." You poked him hard in the ribs, causing him to flinch and look up at you.

"If you want me to look at you, then you have to look at me too." You crossed your arms.

An endeared smile enveloped Yoongi's face, and he took your arms and instead wrapped them around himself. "Then," he hummed, "how about this."

You waited in question, nuzzling yourself further into him, blocking out the sounds of metal screeching and the shrill cries of people around you as best you could.

"Do you trust me?" Yoongi asked, and you lifted your head briefly, catching him looking out the windows, scenes of winter flashing by in the reflection of his dark eyes.

"Always," you whispered, heart racing. Which would kill you first? A heart attack, or the crash?

You watched as Yoongi took a deep breath, eyes closed, before reopening them and giving you the most charming, most heartbreaking smile you've seen in your life. "Okay," he said under his breath. He checked out the window one last time before turning to you and saying, "Just close your eyes."

His arms wrapped around you tight. Then, you felt weightless. Then, nothing at all. The last thought you had was you were glad you didn't bring gloves that day, because it let you hold onto Yoongi's hands for just that much longer.

[vantemania]

Chocolate Pudding

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

➤ Genre: Fluff

➤ Pairing: Jimin x Taehyung (Vmin)

➤ Word count: 2.2k~

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s not what it looks like!”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed, surveying the room. “Then..” he crossed his arms. “What is it?”

The sass in Jimin’s voice had Taehyung pursing his lips, eyes squinting briefly as he huffed, wiping his hands off on his apron in frustration. “This,” he sassed back, leaning on the counter behind him, hands resting on the surface. “Is a group project," he finished as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.

Moving further into the kitchen, Jimin went to inquire just what the hell his husband was eluding to, eyes scanning the absolute chaos that was the state of the kitchen, but Taehyung continued for him.

“A group project you,” Taehyung tilted his head, the smirk on his lips unknown to have been either the teasing sarcastic or spiteful sarcastic type, “were supposed to be a part of,” Taehyung finished. A quick rise of his eyebrows, paired with the incinerating stare burning into Jimin’s eyes, had Jimin racking his brain for any responsibilities assigned to him recently he could have possibly forgotten.

A sigh was heard from Taehyung as Jimin remained silent, lost in thought. Jimin leaned forward and placed both hands on the kitchen island, taking in the contents of it. Multiple bowls, a gallon of milk, opened pudding boxes, a whisk, something that looked like coffee grounds, and an opened box of cake mix were scattered all over it.

“A dessert?” Jimin peered up at his husband with a quirk of his brow. “You’re grumpy because I wasn’t helping you bake?” He couldn’t help the teasing smile from forming on his face.

“Did you make a mess on purpose?” He asked, stepping closer to Taehyung, who had broken eye contact in order to reinforce his displeasure — a brand new huff left his luscious lips, and Jimin wanted nothing but to feel them against his own, but he knew Taehyung would’ve turned away at the last moment, pouting those pretty lips.

So he refrained from moving closer, (to Taehyung’s mouth, that is) and instead tilted his head to the side, eyes squinting conspiratorially, leaning in to kiss Taehyung’s neck where it was ticklish.

A deep, adorably boyish giggle bubbled out of Taehyung, and he pushed Jimin away — but his previous expression was replaced with a hint of a smile, so Jimin took it as a win, a grin enveloping his own face.

Seeing Jimin’s expression, Taehyung immediately dropped his smile and went back to looking away all cross-armed — the embodiment of hmph.

He murmured something under his breath that Jimin couldn’t quite catch, so Jimin wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s waist — ignoring the lack of physical response from his stubborn baby — and asked, “What was that?”

After a pause, in which Taehyung deliberated the pros and cons of caving in to his bratty husband that night, Taehyung pouted downward to nothing in particular. Maybe the new chocolate stains on his formerly pristine kitchen floor, or the work-weary shoes still on Jimin's feet he hadn't removed from coming home — only Taehyung knew.

"Why would I make a mess on purpose?" He finally responded, and Jimin didn't need to see his face to know just how pouty it looked, even though — as he continued to watch his husband in pure adoration — he had a dazzlingly clear view of the obstinate little pucker of Taehyung's lips, his pretty eyes cast to the side, even catching the small dart of his gaze to Jimin before returning to the floor with a new indignant huff.

With a quick squeeze of his arms — a little touch to bother Taehyung just that much further — Jimin released his husband from his oh-so-loving embrace (where was the love, really?). The playful words on Jimin's tongue were rewritten with a whole new tone upon watching Taehyung wipe imaginary filth off of him from Jimin's touch. He was acting like—

"Because you're a brat."

Taehyung ceased his prior theatrics and looked up, eyebrows disappearing beneath his hair.

"Wait," he spoke in an unbelieving tone, giving Jimin a once-over, taking in the newly appointed stance of confidence — bordering on arrogance — the man in front of him with one hand on his hip, staring directly at him, smirk clear as day. A subtle quirk of his brow stirred Taehyung into action. He began to untie his apron, attention no longer on the confectionary disaster in front of them. "What did you just sa—"

"You heard me," Jimin shot back, adopting a look of indifference, as he averted his gaze to the contents of the kitchen island beside him. Taehyung's stare wasn't intimidating nor arousing, not even a little bit. He was definitely looking away because the chocolate pudding looked tasty. At least, that's what Jimin told himself. He dipped a finger into the chocolate mix and lifted it to his mouth, large eyes lifting up to meet Taehyung's — a stark contrast in his own eyes gazing demurely as he sucked the dessert off his finger slowly and the scorching stare laced with dark intent smoldering behind his husband's.

Whatever scalding retort Taehyung was about to launch was delayed when he saw Jimin's finger descend, going for another dip in the dish of chocolate.

Taehyung caught Jimin's wrist before Jimin's finger could make contact, barely. "Don't you dare," he said, sounding and looking more serious than Jimin had anticipated. Despite that, he still made playful attempts to breach the surface and touch that sweet, sweet chocolate — the devil on his shoulder pulling his lips up into a smirk the whole time.

"Why not?" Jimin asked, his face the picture of cherub-like innocence, although Taehyung knew otherwise. After all these years, did Jimin really think he could pull that one on Taehyung? Continuing to restrain him gently, Taehyung shook his head in exasperation.

"Now who's being a brat?"

The eyebrow raise and quirk of Taehyung's mouth had Jimin huffing and trying — for real this time — to pull his wrist from Taehyung's grip, albeit in futility. Taehyung's hold on Jimin remained secure, his smirk growing as Jimin struggled. Jimin would note that for later.

With a stubborn exhale, Jimin answered, "Certainly, not me," whilst relinquishing his struggle to leave Taehyung's hold — instead allowing his arm to dangle by his side.

Pleased with Jimin's unexpected acquiescence, Taehyung's grip on Jimin's wrist loosened, much to Jimin's confusion, until he felt Taehyung's hand connecting with his, intertwining their fingers. He spared a look down at their interlocked hands before shifting his eyes up, where he met Taehyung's gaze, already trained on him.

The warmth in Taehyung's eyes made Jimin feel shy. He went to look away, but not before he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand.

A laugh left Jimin's lips in a short breath as he looked down. He wanted to say something sweet.

"Then what are you being?"

The deep whisper in his ear made Jimin jump, hairs on the nape of his neck standing. Taehyung wore a lazy grin, as if he hadn't just shocked years out of Jimin's life. That motherf—

"What?" Jimin asked, blinking and dumbfounded. By now, his thoughts were on anything but their previous conversation.

Infuriatingly, Taehyung took a moment to watch Jimin fondly, then look down, a laugh exhaled as a lopsided smile took over his features, making him unfairly, unfathomably, charming looking — then he moved closer to Jimin and caressed his cheek with those immaculate, slender fingers of his.

Taehyung's thumb gently swiped down Jimin's cheek — leaving him putty in the man's hands but that's neither here nor there, according to Jimin. Taehyung tilted his head slightly, the look in his eyes sending alarms off in Jimin's head, because Jimin knew just where things could end up, depending on if he played his cards right.

The drag of Taehyung's thumb across his lips brought Jimin back to earth, his lower lip popping against the top at the release.

Taehyung had to know. Just had to, that he had Jimin ensnared.

"You tell me," Taehyung whispered, husky voice sending a shiver down Jimin's back as he leaned in closer. "What are you?" A nip to his earlobe sent the last remnants of Jimin's rational thoughts to the stratosphere.

Barely being able to register Taehyung wrapping a hand around his waist and moving closer, still overwhelmed with the feeling of Taehyung's breath warm and wet against his neck, Jimin remembered he was asked a question.

"What?" he asked for the second time, open mouthed kisses from his husband to his neck rendering Jimin incapable of higher thought. What were they talking about before?

Leaving a final kiss to Jimin's neck (much to his dismay), Taehyung lifted his head to meet Jimin's eyes — hands placed steadily on Jimin's hips. He waited until Jimin returned his gaze, and it would've been a boldface lie to say Taehyung's heart didn't squeeze when he saw just what a blushing mess he had made of his husband. Barely doing anything!

Taehyung's mind wandered, and so did his fingers, looping themselves in Jimin's belt-buckle holes, pulling him impossibly closer. He bit his lip to contain the smile that threatened to take over his entire face when he saw the tiny look of surprise on Jimin's face.

Avoiding eye contact — and to quell any spontaneous butterflies in his stomach — Taehyung leaned in to whisper in Jimin's ear once again. "What do you want me to call you?" He tried rephrasing.

Jimin's eyes widened, the breathiness of Taehyung's voice, along with the implications, leaving him breathless.

He looked up, locking eyes with an expectant Taehyung. Oh, the places they could go...

Jimin took in the appearance of his husband. The messy dark hair, the flour dusting his fingertips and cheek, the frilly apron, the unanswered question in his eyes.

In that moment, Jimin knew exactly what he wanted to be called.

He pushed himself off the counter he had been leaning on. Closing in on the patiently waiting Taehyung, Jimin answered, "For tonight," smirk forming slyly, "You can call me—"

"Daddy!"

The moment snapped, a small pair of arms wrapping around Jimin's waist and barreling into him as if he was nothing. He caught himself in time, one hand bracing back against the counter, the other instinctively coming to wrap around the little bundle of joy nuzzling into him.

"Areum!" He brought both arms around the little girl and picked her up, feigning an excess of effort all the way. "When did you get so big?" Jimin teased, settling on a comfortable position holding her — her legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, koala-style, with him one arm underneath her legs for support and the other around her back, holding her to him.

Areum chose to ignore his comment and instead settled for nestling closer into his neck. "Where were you? You left me alone with appa in the kitchen~" she whined, a tiny tilt of her lips giving away her playfulness — a look lost on Jimin, but not Taehyung, who had a perfect view of her face.

"Yah!" He complained indignantly, stomping a foot for good measure (an action that would’ve been more effective had he not been wearing fluffy Tata socks). "Have I really done such a bad job?" He gestured around the kitchen, pout more than apparent in his voice.

Areum lifted her head, just enough to glance at the kitchen. "You haven't made anything!" She promptly stuffed her face back into a very amused Jimin's neck. "What am I supposed to bring to class tomorrow?" was heard as a muffled wail.

Jimin and Taehyung shared a fond look at their daughter's antics. Patting her head gently, Jimin explained, "Appa was just getting started for us, isn't that right?"

The taunting gleam in Jimin's eyes as he looked over to Taehyung didn’t go over his head —however he made sure to store it for later — as Areum peeked up from her safe place in the crook of Jimin's neck, eyes wide and questioning.

A warm smile bloomed across Taehyung's features. "That's right." He reached over the island to pick up a whisk, twirling it in his hand. "Since it's a group project-" he shot a look over to Jimin (the resulting scoff would have to be treated later as well), "- we couldn't do it without you lil koala bear." He held the whisk out to her. "We need your help."

Unwrapping herself from Jimin, partially at least, Areum accepted the whisk in her grasp, fighting the smile threatening to form on her face. She bit her lip, surveying the kitchen (whilst basking in the comfortable hold of Jimin, which also lent her a higher view of everything), noting it had become just a mess of ingredients, not mixed or put together whatsoever. A piece of paper with, assumedly, a recipe scrawled out messily, laid amidst the chaos, forgotten. Areum suppressed a giggle and made a mental note of its location.

She turned and tapped Jimin on the nose with the tip of the whisk. "You," she began gleefully, pausing to also point the whisk at Taehyung, "are so," making sure both were listening,

"lucky to have me."

[vantemania]

Hello~

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➤ Genre: Fluff

➤ Pairing: Namjoon x Seokjin

➤ Word count: 500~

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As he sat in his usual café, typing away on his laptop, he couldn't have guessed his decision to come here today would be a turning point in his life. Namjoon was too stressed out from the deadlines of his classwork to consider that maybe coming here out of habit was a bad idea.

After all, it hadn't become habit to only him to seek out this particular cafe to spend time in. The service, food, and drink were delightful. And the bustling buzz of the flow of customers was comforting, if you could tune out the exact words.

Namjoon was content — aside from the anxiety of writing his current paper — the sips from his caramel macchiato soothing both his taste buds and nerves.

During one of those sips, Namjoon's eyes landed on quite possibly the most beautiful man he had ever seen, entering the café in a stylish, soft looking coat, cheeks and nose slightly reddened from the chill outside.

As he made his way to the counter, and Namjoon's head was forced to follow if he was going to keep staring, Namjoon snapped out of it, tearing his gaze away and looking back down at his own drink with a small shake of his head.

In his head swam the question, what is he doing here?

But he knew that'd be a dumb question. This was their go-to café. How could he expect Jin to just stop coming to it after they ended things? Hell, did Jin expect him to stop going?

Namjoon tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, hoping Jin would just get his order and leave. But, nah, he had to full on smack his drink over in the process of trying to organize his papers, as if having a less scattered table would somehow be less noticeable. It was university, that was the most normal thing possible. Yet, he thought a less cluttered table would draw less attention.

And it would have. Had Namjoon not spilled his drink all over it.

He swore under his breath as nearby witnesses watched and either sympathized or snickered outwardly, neither crowds offering help. The napkins Namjoon had with him became saturated quickly from the amount spilled, and he was about to get up for more when a hand with an overabundance of them came into his view, pressing the towels here and there to soak up the remnants of the mess.

Namjoon crouched back down, no longer needing to search for more drying material, and peered at his savior.

Oh.

Namjoon's ex boyfriend glanced up from the dingy ground he was cleaning, and sent Namjoon a charming grin. "Hello."