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i want my ****** cursed by demon!jimin. i said what i said. 

this was so sexy and damn did it have me hooked!! loved it 🥰 

Tongue Tied (M)

Genre: SMUT, fluff, crack, demon au (sort of), idol verse, established relationship au, pwp with a side of minor relationship angst

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count:12k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex, orgasm denial, masturbation, squirting, sex toys, dirty talk, degradation, bladder desperation and brainwashing

A/N: So… this is porn. Apologies to everyone, especially Park Jimin. Blame my anons who goaded me into it. Love you all! Stay hydrated.

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ugh i enjoyed this so much 🥺 this is everything i love about established relationships au rolled into one fic ❤️❤️❤️

7 Days

A week in the life of idol Kim Seokjin’s girlfriend.

pairing: seokjin x reader genre: fluff, smut wordcount: 9.2k inspiration

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cami!!!!! ive been looking forward to this fic since you mentioned it and IM IN LOVE!!! you absolutely nailed the magic of enchanted with your own unique and modernized twists on it. i’m absolutely in awe of your talent—i cannot begin to tell you how much i loved it. i’m so looking forward to part two ❤️❤️❤️ brava hon!!

ever ever after | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @eerieedits​

summary; a disney enchanted!au, where a cynical divorce lawyer’s life is turned upside down when he sees you hanging from a disneyworld billboard. looking for your prince, you shake up jungkook’s life by warming his life and warming his heart. disney cliches, harsh realities and animal sidekicks ensue pairing; divorce lawyer/dilf!kook x princess!reader genre/warnings; fluff, crack, angst, dad!koo, modern fantasy au, fairy tale au, jungkook’s a hot dad but a hot mess, this is absolute chaos, humor in its worst form, sexual exploration, smut in the form of female masterbation in the flowery-est way possible, virgin!reader, a whole lot of disney puns w/c; 11.6k a/n; thank you thank you thank u for yet another supportive and loving year. im happy to end of the year with ever ever after, and to start the year off with ever ever after! bonus points if u find all the disney references! happy new year all, stay safe and stay sweet

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[taestyreads]

oh boy!! 😳 this was absolutely filthy moon, and i loved every second 🥴

bigger & better | knj & kth

synopsis: fuck your gigantic roommates. they should have known better than to put your favourite jam on the top most shelf.

pairing: taehyung x reader & namjoon x reader

wc: 2.9k

rating/genre/au: 18+ | roommates, threesome au | smut

warnings: pwp • threesome • size kink • oral (m. & f. receiving) • face fuck • deep throat • dirty talk • impact play • manhandling • name calling (whore, slut) • hair pulling • spitting • cum swallowing • unprotected sex • creampie • aftercare • these two have big cocks

author’s note: well. this drabble grew legs and ran away from me. so, it got turned into a one shot. hope you have fun, anon!

m.list | ao3

It all started because Taehyung decided it would be funny to place your favourite jam on the very top of the pantry shelf, knowing full well your arms can’t stretch that high up. Both him and Namjoon stand in the kitchen, suppressing their giggles as they watch your sad attempts to reach the elusive glass jar through a series of jumps.

“Will you giraffes come help me already?” you huff impatiently at your two roommates, turning around to cross your arms in front of your chest.

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so happy to see this as a series nye!! i love love love all the pining, it’s delish!! 🥰🥰

Eye-Opener. jjk | 02

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: drabble, college!au, best friends!au, angst, (eventual) smut

Summary: anon said when y/n comes back from her date with Jimin, and maybe jk is a little sulky

Rating: pg-13 (for this drabble)

Warnings: none.

Word Count: 753

a/n ✑ yeaa i wrote this directly on tumblr so it’s not edited :) welcome to part 2

Jungkook tends to go through fazes. And what you mean by this is that he’ll choose a favorite food to eat persistently no matter the time of day.  

Just last month, it was chocolate chip cookies. You would catch him wolfing down the treat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner — blood sugar levels not even considered. Now, he seems to have shifted to Doritos, equally as unhealthy. 

Although Jungkook’s also been adopting a steady workout routine. He frequents the gym with senior student Namjoon at least five times a week, which is more than what you can say. 

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oh my gosh!! this is so exciting august, i can’t wait!!

tales of the househusbands - masterlist | ot7+7

a drabble series inspired by “the way of the househusband”.  this series follows 7 “househusbands” and their adventures.

- new drabbles coming Fridays

- first drabble coming January 21

- no taglist, if you’re interested in getting notified, please subscribe to my ao3

- more info will get added here, as we go along

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AHHH Nikki I’m so excited for this!! love this premise so much 🥰

plot twist (pjm) | teaser.

a lowkey series spin-off ft. park jimin

summary: jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

pairing: athlete!reader x nerd!jimin

genre: college au, (partially) smau, friends to lovers au, dating app au | fluff, angst, smut

general warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, lots of incredibly shy and awkward jimin )): , alcohol consumption, club/party scenes, protected/unprotected sex, trust issues, insecurities - additional warnings will be posted for each chapter.

*important note: majority of the series will not be in smau format! texts / social media posts will only be included in some chapters.

permanent taglist: @spideyjimin @miinoongi​ @thebeebi​ @ggukkieland​ @bluesharksandfish​ @unicornbabylover​ @preciouschimine​ @codeinebelle​ @shesoldbutcute​ @jikookiekosmos​ @awhnamjoon​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @bunnybearrj​ @babycoffeefire​ @bri-mal​ @sintaethick​ @taejkjoons​ @love2luvya-blog​ @pb-n-juju​ @dianaxnyc​ @fan-ati–c​ @jungjoonie​ @jcsmae​ @favouritesblog​ @ppeachyttae​ @awseokjin​ @jjk1iscoming​ @moonchild1​

Jimin can’t believe it. This was the last thing he expected coming out of a dating app.

He has your number.

You gave him your fucking number.

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oh gosh, this vampire jimin is DANGEROUS! hot, well-endowed, but also so well mannered and polite?? what else could a girl ask for?? 😍😍😍 this was hot hot hot, allison!!

idk why and I hope you aren’t weirded out by this but my favorite part was that handjob… the mental image of jimin like that is just 🥵🥵🥵

Banner by the endlessly talented @hannahbee12719! (Seriously, look how incredible it is!! 😍)

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Pairing: vampire!Jimin x Female Reader

Genre: Smut with a tiny hint of feelings (bc I couldn’t help myself) / Strangers to Lovers / Vampire AU

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: You go to a mysterious club looking for some dark and dirty fun and end up getting so much more than you bargained for.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, semi-public sex (in a public place but no one else is watching), public making out, dirty talk, nipple play, vaginal fingering, handjob, protected sex, mentions of alcohol, swearing, BODY CHAIN JIMIN 🥵

A/N: This is a oneshot written as a belated birthday gift for the amazing, wonderful, lovely @jikooknoona! 🥳 Laura, your friendship is the best gift I could have ever asked for, and since violence is our love language, I hope I can pay you back even just a little with this story featuring your beloved, dark haired, body chain, vampire Jimin! I love you and appreciate you so so SO much!! 💙💙💙 For everyone reading, thank you so much for taking time to check out my writing, and I hope you enjoy! 🥰

This is, by far, the darkest club you have ever been in. If it weren’t for the soft, red light bathing the dance floor and the matching hue glowing above the bar, you don’t think you would even be able to see the drink in front of you. But you kind of like the dark. It allows you to cloak yourself - run away from the real world and cast aside the timidness that you normally hide behind. Here, you can be anyone.

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i saw American revolution AU and I did not bat an eyelash. ana could write a caveman AU and I would not doubt that it’ll be amazing for a second. and this fic certainly did NOT disappoint. the way the creepy vibes were built up slowly, the “sexy horror” interlude, then that ending…. I love this so damn much (I kinda got coralline vibes—I’m the interest of not spoiling I won’t elaborate but I hope that makes sense). thank you so much for sharing this spooktacular fic, ana!! ❤️❤️

strands | kth x reader

💀summary: taehyung can't figure out how he got separated from his men, or how he ended up stranded in these woods -- hurt. the only thing he knows is that he has no choice but to rely on the beautiful, secretive stranger who's found him.

💀pairing: reader x soldier!taehyung

💀rating: mature, 18+

💀genre: american revolutionary war AU (don't ask), creepy shit, spooky smut

💀warnings: it's...gross? not pleasant? kind of nauseating? enjoy!

💀word count: 8.8K

💀notes: phew, y'all this is kind of a wild ride. there is a reason i chose this particular plot which i will explain in a follow up post but like, yeah -- if you're particularly squeamish this is not for you. otherwise, bon appetit!

this story is part of the "In The Spoop" collab i was honored to be a part of with a group of amazing writers. big thanks to @wwilloww @madseok @augustbutwinter @hobisuniverse @kkulfm @sahmfanficbts

thanks goes, as always, to the lovely @hobi-gif and @btsarmy9593 who took time to read this sick little story and who both still speak to me anyway, which i am taking as a good sign. there is a plot device in this story inspired by an episode of turn (y'all tell me i wasn't the only dork who watched this show?)

It’s the pain that wakes Taehyung.

The bright, searing throb that starts low in his foot and burns a path straight up his leg. It’s the pain that has him cracking his eyes open, vision obscured by the leaves strewn about his face and head. He wrinkles his nose at the musty smell of the forest floor.

It’s the sound that comes next that makes his blood run cold.

The all-too-familiar scrape of metal against metal, followed by the stomach-churning clank of a shell falling into a chamber. Prone as he is -- hurt as he is -- Taehyung still manages to raise his arms to his head, instinctively shielding the back of his skull with shaking hands.

“Don’t shoot,” he rasps, cheek pressed into the thick, damp dirt. “Please.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

None of this makes any sense.

Not the way he’s come to in this dense forest, not the injury that makes it impossible to move his leg. And certainly not the soft voice that sounds from overhead, airy and feminine and laced with an unmistakable edge of warning.

“Speak, Soldier,” the voice demands, impatient. “Or I won’t hesitate to pull this trigger.”

“I’m hurt,” Taehyung protests weakly. “I can’t move. I have no idea how I even got here, I swear it.”

The voice overhead is quiet for a while and Taehyung decides to risk moving his hands. He lowers them slowly, pressing his palms flat to the earth so he can lift his head and get a look at his captor.

The soft, gossamer dress that billows all around you is the very antithesis to the heavy steel in your hands. The light wind makes the fabric dance around your legs, whips dark strands of your hair off your face. But the gun in your grip never moves, weighty metal steady as you study him.

Blunt barrel pointed directly at his head.

“Stop moving your body,” you order stiffly, “And start moving your mouth. Have you come here to rob me?”

“No -- ” Taehyung sputters, tasting the granules of dirt pressed to his lips. “ -- No. I mean you no harm, truly. I speak the truth when I say I have no idea how I came to be here.”

“A likely story from any man caught trespassing on someone’s property.”

“I never intended to trespass,” he swears, nodding in the direction of his lame leg. “I would leave this place right now but I don’t know if I can walk.”

Your dark eyes narrow as you study him, searching his face for any indication of deception.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

The leaves beneath your boots crunch as you start to move, walking a slow, careful circle around him. Taehyung keeps still as you complete the cycle twice, assessing the state of his body and thus, the truth of his account. The barrel of that shotgun in your hands stays trained on him the entire time.

“Where is your gun?”

A fair question. Taehyung twists his body to search for the bayonet, one hand blindly groping for the weapon that should be strapped to his back. But he can’t feel the weight of it against his spine and his fingers grasp at nothing. And he knows what he must say next will only serve to heighten your suspicion.

“It’s gone,” he announces quietly. “I must have lost it somehow.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A soft click sounds as your finger toys with the trigger of your shotgun. “I don’t believe you,” you repeat, more fiercely now. “I don’t believe a word you’ve said since I found you.”

Taehyung tenses, squeezing his eyes shut as he waits to hear the shot that could come at any moment.

“You are on my property, Soldier. Deep into these woods. I could kill you right now and no one would ever be the wiser.”

“I know you could,” Taehyung croaks, words unsteady. “I understand how this must look. But I have only told you the truth as I know it. I swear it.”

He takes a chance in the quiet that follows. Opens his eyes to search for yours and finds them a bit less cold than before. The frostiness in your features seems to thaw, though the dour expression remains. Taehyung recognizes this moment for what it is -- a chance to appeal to your humanity.

To beg for his life.

“Please,” he pleads, eyes fixed to yours. “Please believe me. I am a man in need of help, Miss. Have mercy on me.”

Uncertainty flickers behind your eyes as you finally lower the shotgun, barrel now aimed towards the forest floor. And Taehyung’s head swims with the rush that comes from the sudden relief that floods his limbs.

“It’s Ma’am, Soldier,” you correct stiffly, turning away from him. “As I am a married woman.”

Taehyung watches in disbelief as you turn your back on him, pausing for just one moment to call over your shoulder.

“And you should be glad it’s me who found you. My husband would have shot you dead on sight.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Taehyung has to fight the urge to snatch up the porridge set in front of him.

When is the last time he’s had a hot meal? He’s lost count of the days by now. They all blend together in a blur of pain and blood and suffering. Were he with his men at this moment, he would not hesitate to grab the bowl and tip the contents back without a single care for decorum.

But his men are not here, you are. Watching his every move with sharp eyes.

When you’d turned your back on him in the woods, Taehyung had been certain you would not return. You had already been generous enough not to leave a slug in his skull and that was a mercy in and of itself. He’d refused to delude himself into believing there would be any further intervention in his pathetic circumstances on your part.

But you had returned.

This time, without the heavy shotgun to weigh you down. You’d extended one delicate hand and helped him to his feet. Supported his tired body as he’d limped all the way into your home.

“You must be starving,” you note, waving one hand at the bowl in front of him. “There is no need to stand on ceremony here. Eat.”

Taehyung’s stomach grumbles loudly as though it’s understood your words and he nods, wiping at his dirty face with the back of an equally dirty sleeve.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, shoving the first spoonful into his mouth. The porridge is hot and it warms a path down his throat and into his empty belly. “I can’t thank you enough.”

You don’t acknowledge his gratitude.

Instead you sit silent and watch his every move as he makes quick work of the porridge, stopping only briefly to sip at the glass of water you’d provided. The quiet scrutiny is daunting and Taehyung can feel sweat beading at his temples. He clears his throat and looks around the room, catching sight of a pair of boots by the door.

“I hope your husband does not take offense to my presence.”

“Don’t worry about him,” you return evenly.

Perhaps a bit easier said than done, Taehyung thinks. The boots look to be rather large from where he’s sitting, so it stands to reason the man who wears them is rather large as well. Coming this far only to be confronted by an irate husband would be going from the frying pan into the fire.

“Well, I won’t impose on your kindness any longer than I have to,” Taehyung vows, spooning the last of the porridge into his mouth. “I swear it to you.”

You say nothing but never take your eyes off him, even as you leave the table to head back to the stove. You ladle more porridge into a fresh bowl and Taehyung could weep with gratitude when you set it down before him.

“What business do you have in this area, Soldier?”

Taehyung makes haste on his second bowl, chewing slowly as he considers his answer. War is a nasty business -- always -- but this war has been particularly difficult. It has pit neighbor against neighbor; split some families into shards. In this war, the enemy is sometimes hard to spot. Most people do not wear their loyalties on their sleeves.

He takes a long drink of water before speaking.

“I’m a scout,” he starts carefully. “I was sent ahead of my men to survey the route we intend to take towards the next meeting point. I left camp on foot so as not to draw attention.”

You digest his words as Taehyung digests his food, dark eyes skeptical across the short spanse of the table. It’s the first time he has allowed himself a proper look at you. He takes in the striking beauty of your features with awe; the midnight black shade of your hair, the unusual golden flecks in your dark irises. He hopes you have the right of it where your husband is concerned. Taehyung can only imagine that he’d be a very jealous man.

“And what do you remember of the moments leading up to when I found you?”

Taehyung wipes at his mouth before setting his spoon down.

“Very little, I’m afraid. The sun was setting by the time I reached these woods. There was no indication on my map of this property or your home, I would have remembered that. But I can’t remember how I got here or how I got hurt.”

Beneath the table, his foot throbs uncomfortably inside his boot. It’s as though his body temporarily forgot the pain in lieu of the more pressing matter of his hunger.

“I see,” you murmur. “And now you are here. Continental Army, I presume?”

Taehyung’s heart starts to hammer inside his chest. You’re staring pointedly at the worn patch sewn to the breast of his shabby jacket, the blue fabric that indicates his allegiance to the colonies. There is nothing to do now but hope that you share in that allegiance -- or that at the very least, that you’ll allow him to leave without bloodshed if you do not.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admits, tongue feeling a bit too thick for his mouth. “5th regiment, Massachusetts. I hope that won’t be a problem for you.”

Your lips purse as you take a long moment to regard him, drumming one dainty fingertip against the tabletop.

“It won’t be a problem so long as you don’t make it one, Soldier,” you say at last, and Taehyung exhales, hit once more with another dizzying rush of relief.

Light glints from between your collarbones as you move to clear the empty bowls away.

Taehyung’s eyes search for the source of it, finally settling on a golden strand that circles your neck and falls neatly into your decolletage. He marvels at the delicacy of the metal. It’s fine as a thread against your skin.

Gold has always been rare, but in wartime even more so. You must be rich, Taehyung surmises. It would explain the quality of your gown, to be sure. It would also explain why you’d assumed he was here to rob you.

Then you catch him staring, fixing him with those peculiar sparkling eyes and Taehyung flushes, looking away.

“I’ll bring hot water to the basin in your room once it’s done warming,” you announce, leaving him red-cheeked at the table. “And I’ve set out some of my husband’s extra clothes for you. They’re a bit worn but I’m sure they’ll serve you better than what you’re wearing right now.”

Taehyung looks down at his jacket and britches, neither of which was in sterling condition even before he’d found himself stranded in the woods. Now they look to be rags, caked through with dirt and riddled with holes.

“And you’re sure your husband won’t mind? My wearing his clothes, that is.”

“I assure you that he will not,” you announce upon your return. The skepticism in your eyes is all but gone now, nothing left in your expression but a cordiality that borders on warmth. Taehyung decides to allow himself to relax, inhaling and exhaling deeply before speaking again.

“I don’t know why you took me in,” he starts quietly, “But I am grateful to you. To you both.”

You smile at him for the very first time, striking face even more beautiful when you are wearing this expression. Taehyung shyly smiles back.

“Think nothing of it, Soldier. I am happy to help.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

It takes him nearly an hour to wash away the dirt caked to his face and hands, the mud jammed deep beneath his fingernails. He peels away his boots to reveal his grossly swollen ankle and hisses once it’s free of the leather confinement.

He would still be trapped in those woods, were it not for you. Crawling, perhaps -- aimless and lost -- and to what end? Instead he is clean and warm inside this house, limping his way towards the first proper bed he’s seen in months.

The last thought Taehyung has before he extinguishes his lamp and slides beneath the sheets is that you must be an angel.

Godsent in his time of need.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

It is well into the afternoon by the time Taehyung limps his way into the great room.

He finds you wearing another grand dress, this one a bright red silk that drapes beautifully over the lines of your body. You are seated at a loom near the window, carefully threading what appears -- to his untrained eye -- to be silk.

You speak your first words to him without ever looking away from the steady work of your hands.

“Good afternoon, Soldier. I trust you rested well?”

“I did,” Taehyung answers, shuffling slowly towards you.

He finds himself mesmerized by the effortless movement of your fingers as you work with the silk, how elegantly you weave each strand together without a single errant move. He stops to rest against the wall, shifting weight off of his bad leg as he watches you.

“I love to weave,” you sigh happily. “It calms me. I make all of my dresses myself. Do you like them?”

You stop weaving long enough to allow Taehyung to admire your handiwork, twisting your torso from side to side as you proudly display your stunning red dress. Fine threads of gold filament adorn the sleeves, visible only upon closer look. It is far and away the finest garment Taehyung has ever seen.

“Your work is remarkable, Ma’am,” Taehyung says genuinely, and your eyes light with happiness. In this moment, there is no semblance of the fierce, shotgun-wielding woman he’d met the day before. In this moment, you seem like a different woman entirely.

“Take a seat,” you direct, looking down towards his swollen ankle. “You’ll not heal that thing if you continue to strain it.”

Taehyung gladly shuffles his way to the nearest chair, groaning as he settles into it.

“Thank you. I suppose it’s too early to say but I think it might be in better condition now than it was last night.”

“That’s very good,” you hum under your breath, fingers dancing between threads in a hypnotic staccato. “I’m sure it will be even more improved by tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Then perhaps you do intend to let him stay a while longer. Taehyung scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Yes, about that,” he starts slowly. “Has your husband returned? I want to be sure he’s not angry about my being here.”

A strange look passes over your face and the movement of your fingers stops at once. You look up at Taehyung with those ethereal gold-flecked eyes, pinning him with an earnest gaze.

“I must confess something to you, Soldier.”

Taehyung’s stomach flips uncomfortably, though he’s careful to keep his voice steady when he answers.

“Certainly, Ma’am.”

“My husband is dead,” you announce somberly, turning back to your loom. You resume your weaving and a strange sensation comes over Taehyung, half-relief and half-dread.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He’s been dead for more than a year now,” you go on to explain, strands of bright blue silk slipping between your fingers with ease. “But as I did not know your intentions when I found you, I lied. I am sorry that I deceived you, but I hope you can understand. It’s a dangerous thing to be a woman alone.”

Taehyung wets his dry lips with his tongue, heart cracking inside his chest for you. A beautiful widow, left all alone in these thick woods -- in the midst of a war no less. No wonder you worry after your safety.

“I understand, Ma’am,” he vows. “And just as I promised you last night, I will say it again. I do not mean to cause you any harm.”

You peer up at him with those spellbinding dark eyes and Taehyung feels goosebumps raise on his forearms.

“I know you won’t.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

The two of you pass a quiet, comfortable day together.

Taehyung reads while you weave. He limps circles around the room while you cook, testing the strength of his swollen ankle.

And when he sits down to another hot meal and you smile at him from across the dinner table, Taehyung can’t help but feel just a bit sorry for all the men he’s left behind.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

What kind of man was your husband? Taehyung wonders. Thin? Husky?

The clothes you’d lent him just one day prior fit him remarkably well. But the shirt and pants you set out for him today are far too loose, hanging askew off his broad shoulders and narrow hips.

He cinches the pants tight with a belt and scrubs a hand down his face, frowning at the rough hairs that prickle his fingertips. He’s never been one to sport a beard on account of the spotty hair patterns along his chin and this growth feels significant.

It’s as if he’s skipped shaving for weeks, not days.

He limps his way out of his room to find you, encouraged by the improved speed with which he’s able to walk.

Today’s dress is yellow, bright as the sun -- adorned with the same pretty gold patterns you seem to favor so much.

“Good morning,” he greets kindly, pulse quickening when you look up at him from your seat at the loom. Your ebony hair hangs loose today, spilling over your smooth shoulders as you acknowledge him with a beatific smile.

“Good morning, Soldier. Did you rest well?”

Did he? He must have. He can’t remember tossing and turning like he so often does when he’s in the field with his men. In fact, both nights that he’s slept in that glorious bed seem like a repressed memory. Like he’s closed his eyes and been swallowed whole by blackness.

“Yes, I believe I did,” Taehyung smiles, lumbering forward. “My foot is much improved this morning, I’m happy to report. I don’t think it will be long now before I can set off in search of my men.”

Your lovely mouth twitches into a faint pout.

“I see no need to rush your healing, Soldier,” you say agreeably. “I think it best you take the time you need to recover fully before attempting to re-join your war.”

Taehyung nearly trips over the hem of his pants as he settles into the chair near your loom, grimacing at the awkward way his ass meets the surface of the sturdy wood. You quirk one eyebrow high as you watch him.

“Yes, it’s just as I said,” you remark with a hint of a smile. “You should be sure you’re fully healed before leaving this place. There’s no rush.”

Taehyung studies the dazzling blue silk on your loom and notes that the dress you’d started only yesterday looks to be almost complete. He wonders if you’d stayed at that loom all night, weaving while he slept.

“You are very generous to say that, Ma’am,” Taehyung murmurs, eyes trained on the steady work of your fingers. “And I wonder if I might impose on that generosity again.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I was hoping that you might still have your husband’s shaving implements somewhere,” he says, rubbing his fingers against the grain of the bristled growth. “I am not the kind of man who likes to keep a beard, I’m afraid.”

“I do believe they’re around here somewhere,” you muse, rising from your seat. Taehyung watches, entranced, as the bright yellow fabric of your dress drapes enticingly around you. The silk shifts, hugging the curves of your backside and legs as you disappear into the back rooms of the house.

You are a beautiful woman, of that there is no doubt. And how long has it been since Taehyung has known a woman? Far too long. Far too long in the company of men, filthy in every sense of the word. Far too long since he’s known the pleasure of tasting soft, scented skin -- or the pleasure of being buried between a pair of supple thighs.

You glide back into the room with a satchel in hand, extending it to him with a smile.

Taehyung silently berates himself for entertaining such lewd thoughts about you. You’ve shown him only kindness during his stay here and in turn he’s fantasizing about what it would feel like to bed you.

“This is what I was able to find,” you explain, and Taehyung accepts the satchel and pulls the strap open. Inside lies an ancient straight-razor, in bad need of sharpening. But it will have to do.

“Thank you,” he croaks, clearing his throat. “I’ll do my best with it.”

He lifts himself off the chair, taking great care not to trip over the hem of his overlong pants as he limps back towards his borrowed room, shaving kit in tow. But he pauses as a thought occurs to him.

“If I could bother you for just one more thing,” he calls out. “Where can I find a mirror?”

You shake your head and strands of inky black hair cascade down your back.

“There are no mirrors in this home, Soldier,” you say with nonchalance, turning back to your work. “Vanity is a terrible sin, you know.”

Taehyung stands in the doorway of his room and puzzles that for a long moment. It’s a strange sentiment for anyone to have, and certainly even stranger for a woman as beautiful as you. But he shrugs it off.

It is, after all, but a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.

“It’s no matter,” he concedes pleasantly. “I’m sure I can make do.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

The clothes you set out for him today are a much better fit, if a bit short in the leg.

Taehyung dresses with ease, encouraged by how well he’s able to move this morning. He limps around his room as he readies with a bit more finesse than before, efficiently making his way from the bed to the wash basin. He splashes water onto his face, rubbing his fingers across his stubbled jaw. At the very least, it’s a bit less wooly than before.

His steps are still a bit jerky as he enters the great room, surprised to find you dressed in a beautiful black overcoat. Bright green silk spills out from beneath it, adorned with those familiar gold threads.

“Good morning, Soldier,” you greet kindly, tying your coat tight around your waist. “I’ve left food in the kitchen for you. You’ve caught me just as I was heading into town for some supplies.”

Taehyung’s heart sinks.

He too, would like to head into town for supplies. He’d love to walk you there, to stand at your side and allow the men who pass to believe the breathtaking woman on his arm is his in some way. But as remote as this home is, there is certainly no way to take on the journey with his foot in his current state.

“I won’t be gone long,” you promise sweetly, and Taehyung wonders if you can see the disappointment in his face. “Just a quick jaunt and I’ll return to you.”

Return to you. It’s a curious choice of words, and it makes Taehyung’s skin hum with awareness. It’s almost as if you feel the same strange pull he’s felt the entire time he’s been in your home.

“Don’t worry on my account,” he smiles, reassuring. “I’ll be just fine on my own.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Taehyung decides to make himself useful in your absence.

He roots around in your kitchen until he finds a broom and spends much of the afternoon staggering from room to room, sweeping. It’s more physical activity than he’s had for days and his muscles protest the vigorous exercise but he pushes through, sweeping until the floors gleam.

He rests and helps himself to the stew you’d left warming for him, savoring the luxury of yet another hot meal. It will probably be some time, probably years after this war is fought and won, before the simple indulgence loses its novelty.

The sun is starting to set by the time he sets to work on sweeping the wrap-around porch. He shuffles his way across the creaking wood, clearing away the scattered leaves and dirt.

Just a short distance away sits a large shed.

It’s where your husband kept his tools, Taehyung reasons, and he decides that he’ll have to leave the arduous task of walking to it for another day. He’s already been on his feet as long as he can bear.

So he slowly makes his way around the porch, clearing it as he goes. But he has to stop to squint down at his feet as he reaches the most isolated part of it, the part that wraps around the back end of the house. Dozens of tiny black bugs march over the point of his boot and across the warped wood. He scowls, swatting at them with his broom.

Then he follows the creeping line with his eyes, vision slowly adjusting to the ebbing sunlight.

They’re spiders.

Hundreds of them, from what he can tell, spilling from and into a bush that’s overgrown onto the porch. Taehyung’s skin crawls as he attacks them with his broom, beating back the few he can see. He stays at it for a while, bringing the broom down like a hammer until the porch is littered with tiny black bodies.

Then he sweeps what’s left of them away and limps his way back into the house.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Night falls and you still haven’t returned.

Taehyung sits alone with his book and an oil lamp, reading in the chair next to your loom. He ponders your long absence with dread, imagining all the ways you might have left this home and fallen into some kind of danger.

What if you had been robbed on your way into town? What if you’d crossed the path of some barbarian who’d taken stock of your fine clothes and glimmering gold necklace? What if you’d happened upon a camp of Kingsmen and they were holding you against your will at this very moment?

Well, Taehyung would be powerless to stop it, wouldn’t he?

There is no way he could set out into these thick woods to find and rescue you, even if that was the case. So he shakes away the fears and tells himself to relax, that you’ll return to him just as you’d promised.

But when he finally climbs into his bed, he isn’t welcomed by the same blackness that’s shrouded him all the nights before. He’s tormented all night by visions of you -- naked beneath him, naked on top of him. Your breasts in his mouth and hands. His cock buried deep inside of you and that melodious voice of yours calling his name.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Taehyung wakes to find new clothes set out for him.

He staggers his way into the great room and finds you seated at your loom, weaving a new dress this time. This one a deep red. You smile up at him as he enters, gait smoother than when you’d seen him last.

“Good morning, Soldier,” you greet sweetly. “I’ve made eggs for us this morning. Fresh from town.”

Taehyung smiles back, despite his confusion. He suppresses the urge to question you about your whereabouts because who is he to demand such things? A guest in your home and no more.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” he says carefully, shuffling towards the scent of eggs. “Welcome back.”

You ignore the lead in his greeting, offering no explanation for your long absence. And Taehyung can’t help but feel spurned somehow, not unlike a jealous lover. Once again, he must tell himself to keep quiet and mind his own business.

“A beautiful day,” you sigh, looking out the window. “I wish we could go for a walk. But I know that you must heal that injury well before you try it.”

Taehyung swallows around a mouthful of eggs, washing them down with a sip of water.

“Actually, I think I might try it,” he starts. “I spent the day sweeping the floors yesterday and found that I’m able to move around quite well.”

“I noticed that,” you return, fingers twining between red silk strands. “Very kind of you to do that for me, Soldier.”

Taehyung finishes his eggs in a hurry, shuffling into the great room to sit beside you.

“I swept the porch as well, Ma’am, and I must tell you that I found something of great concern outside.”

“Oh?”

“There’s some kind of spider infestation near the back of the house. Hundreds of them from what I could see. I killed as many as I could and beat back the others, but you ought to consider burning that bush away to rid yourself of them.”

Your eyes go wide with horror, pretty lips pursing with shock and Taehyung nods.

“I know, I know,” he commiserates, “Foul creatures.”

“Oh, Soldier,” you bemoan, shaking your head. “You can’t just go around killing spiders! They do far more good than harm, you know. Misunderstood creatures, in my experience. Vilified for no good reason.”

“But I -- ”

“Leave them be,” you say firmly. “They’ve never bothered me once and they dine on the things I’d rather not have in my home. There will be no burning of any bushes today or the next.”

“Very well,” Taehyung concedes, astonished. What a curious woman you are. “I just thought you ought to know.”

“And I thank you for that,” you say, dazzling him again with another brilliant smile.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Evening comes and Taehyung feels unsettled.

There is something so odd about you, he thinks. Something that draws him in and at the same time makes him feel disoriented, lost.

There is the issue of his lust, yes, the ever-constant throb inside of him when you are near. It’s hard to be in your presence and not be overwhelmed by it. By the lascivious thoughts he has to fight off more and more each day.

And he wonders if you feel it, too.

When you look at him the way you do sometimes, with a gaze seemingly ripe with yearning. When you look at him the way you’re looking at him right now, dark eyes glowing in the lamplight between you.

Taehyung cuts into the roast chicken on his plate and savors the way it falls apart in his mouth.

“An indulgence just for you, Soldier,” you murmur, eyes brimming with pride. “I was able to find one in town. I thought to bring you something you might enjoy.”

“I am enjoying this. Perhaps a bit too much,” Taehyung chuckles. “My men have probably written me off as a deserter at this point.”

“Don’t be silly,” you say with an airy laugh.

“No, I mean it. You’ve made it nearly impossible for me to conceive of leaving this place and walking back into a war. But it’s something I must do. My men are counting on me.”

A sullen expression falls over your pretty face as you fork at your plate.

“The war will be there when you return. Certainly there is no need to leave in haste?”

Taehyung can’t help but feel as though he’s disappointing you and it feels as though he’s disappointing himself. He sips at his water and clears his throat.

“I think I should try to leave tomorrow,” he admits, heat creeping a path up his neck. “I can tolerate the walking. And the swelling is nearly gone.”

“So you mean to leave me then? Just like that?”

“Well, I -- ”

“ -- It’s fine,” you announce, words clipped as you jolt out of your chair. “There’s no need to justify it, and I’ll ask you kindly not to bother.”

You take your plate with you as you leave in a huff, china clattering loudly as you drop it onto the kitchen counter. Taehyung springs up from his chair with surprising speed to follow you.

“Don’t be angry with me,” he pleads, closing in on you. “You’ve been so kind to me. And maybe one day I can repay that kindness. When all this war madness is over.”

You keep your back to him, shoulders stiff as you stand at the sink.

“I’m not angry.”

It is then that Taehyung takes a liberty, touching you for the very first time. He grasps your arms with his hands and turns you, heart twinging at the way he finds your eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’m not angry,” you repeat, voice just a whisper now as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’m lonely, Soldier.”

You reach up to brush his hair away from his face, fingertips lingering as they trail a path from his cheek to his neck.

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

Taehyung wants to tell you exactly what he knows of loneliness.

The many nights he’s lay awake beneath the stars with only the sound of gunfire to keep him company. How he sometimes envies the men with wives and children praying for their safe return home. How it’s harder to fight when there’s no one at home doing the same for him.

He would tell you all of those things right now, were his mouth not already covering yours.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Bright red silk slips off your shoulders and pools on the floor at your feet.

Taehyung reminds himself to breathe as you make your approach, looking nothing like the teary widow from the kitchen. The woman before him standing before him in this room is remarkably bold. You approach him completely bare, brazen, without hesitation.

And Taehyung is more than keen to accept what you offer.

The bed in this room is larger, a bit more plush than the one he’s enjoyed in his own. And when you sink down onto it, straddling his slim waist, Taehyung sinks down a bit, too.

“I want you to forget all your worries,” you whisper, tongue pressing against the seam of his lips.

He opens his mouth to accept it, cock already rigid and pulsing beneath you. You kiss him with abandon, scraping your teeth down his neck, licking at his pulse point with the tip of your tongue.

And when you take him in hand to line him up at your entrance, Taehyung feels almost certain he could die from wanting. That is, until you let him breach you, inch by inch. Then he’s sure he could perish from the pleasure.

It goes on for hours like that, it seems, because at no point do you tire.

You make him come with your hands, your mouth, your cunt -- and Taehyung does everything in his power to return the gratification in kind.

By the time grey morning light starts to trickle through the trees, Taehyung can go on no more.

He slumps deep into the sheets, body boneless with exhaustion. And you crawl up the bed to settle into the crook of his shoulder, lightly humming him to sleep.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Well perhaps he could stay for just one more day.

That is the first lucid thought Taehyung entertains when he wakes. You are still curled into his side, silky black hair falling like a drape over your face. Taehyung carefully winds a hand into it, smoothing the strands between his fingertips.

But nature calls.

It takes work to untangle your joined limbs, to move the arm and leg you have wrapped around him, but eventually he’s able to slip away without disturbing you. He presses both feet to the wood floor and his swollen ankle throbs, though the sensation is much more bearable now than it was before.

He creeps quietly from the bed, cursing the groaning floorboards as he staggers his way out.

The injured foot makes him clumsier than he should be and pain shoots up his leg when he jams his toe against the edge of your closet door. He claps a hand over his mouth to contain the sound he wants to make, something between a sob and a roar.

But it takes only seconds for that pain to become the least of his concerns.

Taehyung stares into the sliver of space revealed by his bungling, eyes falling onto a pair of boots. A pair of boots that looks to be much smaller than the ones he’d seen in your great room.

He shuffles closer to push the closet door open just a bit more and a frisson of fear runs down his spine. The boots sit next to another pair of boots which sit next to another pair of boots. Each of them lined up in a neat little row.

Each of them a different size.

Over the years Taehyung has known thin men who’d become heavy ones, and heavy men who’d become thin ones. But never once in his life has he known a man to wear more than one size of boot. Let alone seven of them.

“Are you looking for something, Soldier?”

Taehyung nearly comes out of his skin when your voice pierces the silence. He jerks backwards, breathing a bit harder than he should as he wills his racing heart to calm.

“No, I -- ” he stammers awkwardly, “ -- I jammed my foot a bit. That’s all.”

You sit upright in bed and the sheets fall to your waist, but you seem to have no qualms with the casual nudity. You shake your head with a smile as you regard him.

“You’re a careless little thing, aren’t you?” you laugh and the sound sparkles just a bit less today than it has in the days before. “You ought to be more cautious. Someday you’re going to wind up seriously hurt.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

“Not hungry this morning, Soldier?”

Taehyung blinks as you pose the question, looking up from his bowl to find you watching him with one eyebrow raised high. Obediently, he lifts a spoonful of porridge to his mouth, peering at you cautiously across the table.

The meal is delightfully made -- porridge seasoned with cinnamon and nutmeg -- but it may as well be a bowl of sawdust set down before him. His mouth and throat feel unnaturally dry. He grabs his water glass with an unsteady hand and sips, forcing the food down.

“I guess not,” he says at last, forcing a watery smile.

“Well I’m surprised you’re not ravenous after last night,” you tease, dark eyes glittering. “I know I certainly worked up an appetite.”

Taehyung chews his porridge slowly, mind cluttered with a thousand clashing thoughts. Could there be another explanation for those boots? One that does not make his palms sweat? Perhaps cobbling is another one of your gifts along with weaving.

Perhaps not.

You smooth down the sleeves of today’s dress, the brilliant blue garment he’d found you working on that very first morning here. The gold filaments twinkle in the light and Taehyung stares at them as he tries to justify the discovery he’d made just a short while ago.

He can’t.

He has to leave this place, he knows it, can feel it in his bones. But the days are short this time of year and he’ll have to set out early to make use of the sunlight. The woods surrounding this home are unfamiliar and they won’t be any easier to navigate in the dark.

“I should tell you that I plan to leave in the morning, Ma’am,” he ventures carefully. “It’s time. The weather looks fair enough to travel and I need to find my men.”

There are no teary protests from you today, no angry outbursts or female manipulations.

You seem to take the news in stride, nodding with a smile as you say, “Yes, Soldier. Of course.”

💀💀💀💀💀💀

The two of you pass another quiet day together, this one a bit less comfortable than the days before.

Taehyung reads in his chair, as he’s done every day since arriving -- and you sit at your loom and weave, as you’ve done every day since he arrived.

It’s a shame he can’t focus on the story coming to life on the pages in his hand -- last he remembers, the tale had taken a rather exciting turn. But every few words he can’t help but sneak a glance at you, turning the worries and doubts over in his mind, over and over again.

You disappear into your room after lunch, and Taehyung takes up the task of clearing away the plates. It’s only late afternoon but the sunlight has already started to wane. He makes a note of the hour, silently plotting his escape from this place.

Running down the relevant details in his mind like a battle plan.

You breeze back into the great room a short while later, surprising Taehyung by turning up dressed for an outing, blue dress cloaked in your exquisite overcoat. He swallows thickly, attempting to alleviate the sudden dryness in his throat.

“I must make for town once again, Soldier,” you explain apologetically, gathering your things as Taehyung watches with wide eyes. “Forgive the late notice. This cannot wait.”

“But it’s nearly da --” Taehyung starts, astonished, before abruptly ending his argument. The last time you’d left for town you’d not returned until the next day and perhaps this particular circumstance plays to his favor. “Yes, Ma’am,” he amends evenly. “I’ll think only of your safety until you return.”

You smile at him then, sweeping grandly across the room to press a kiss to his cheek on your way out the door.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

You’ve left him with little sunlight to work with, and so Taehyung sets out with an oil lamp in hand.

He slowly lumbers the distance from the house to the shed, the aging warehouse nearly swallowed whole by the overgrown trees. He frowns when he spots the rusty padlock hanging from the double doors, but the corroded metal serves little use as a deterrent.

The pieces come apart with ease after just a few forceful pulls.

The splintered wooden door springs open and Taehyung pauses for a moment, peering into the darkness. He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves -- telling himself that it’s not even likely he’ll find anything of interest inside.

And he’s hoping that he won’t find anything inside. Hoping that he’s only allowed his imagination to run wild. That you are not the deceiver he now believes you to be.

He retrieves the oil lamp at his feet and makes his way inside.

At first, the glow of the oil lamp reveals nothing out of the ordinary. He spots gardening tools hanging on the wall, a saw left to rust on a wooden work bench. Deeper into the shed he presses on, startling when a shadow from his lamp passes over a scarecrow tilted against a wall.

He shakes his head with a nervous laugh and keeps moving, careful steps kicking up the fine layer of dust and dirt that cover the straw floor.

It takes a bit of maneuvering not to trip over the wheelbarrow he doesn’t see coming, but Taehyung manages -- eyes falling onto a massive wooden cabinet tucked into the furthest corner of this shed.

There is another rusty padlock to contend with now, this one a bit more stubborn than the one at the entrance. He sets the lamp down once again to free his hands and struggles with it, jiggling the metal pieces for what feels like an age.

After a while, the lock in his hand gives -- shackle loosening just enough for Taehyung to slip it off the cabinet’s handle. He lets it drop to the floor and grabs his lamp before cracking the heavy doors open to search it’s contents.

He finds guns. A veritable arsenal of guns.

Muskets and rifles and pistols, hanging neatly from a line strung inside the cabinet. Dozens of them, lined up in a row -- enough weapons to outfit an entire militia. He goes down the line, one by one, examining each piece, some of which look to be antique.

But it’s the very last gun he finds that makes his blood turn to ice in his veins.

Taehyung holds his lamp up to the bayonet, fear pooling in his stomach as he runs a finger down the thick leather strap. He already knows what he’ll find when his fingertips slide down to the base of it. The grooves he’d marked into that strap long ago, when he was more a boy than a man and newly enlisted in the Continental Army.

His fingers brush against those grooves and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end.

“I hope you don’t intend to use that,” you warn darkly.

Taehyung stops breathing. He turns slowly, lamp in hand, to face you.

There is no beauty in your face in this moment, though your features remain the same. The dazzling smiles you’d once showed him are gone now, replaced by the hard set of your jaw.

Your eyes, once sparkling, are now flat -- terrifyingly cold.

“It’s considered quite rude to rifle through someone’s belongings, Soldier. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that? Very, very poor manners.”

You inch closer and Taehyung tries to retreat, back knocking against the cabinet.

“You’ve d-deceived me,” he stammers, shaking his head. “You’ve been lying to me this entire time.”

You laugh at him, the mocking sound of it echoing off the rafters of the shed.

“I only let you see what you wanted to see, Soldier. Some men prefer seduction and some prefer helplessness. I could see in you right away that you were the latter. But in the end, all human men are the same. Not one of you can withstand the temptation of a willing woman. You saw fit to slake your lust, and now I see fit to slake mine.”

Human men?

“What are you?” Taehyung rasps, heart pounding violently inside his chest. “What do you want from me?”

You sigh, as though bothered by his questions.

“I’m hungry, is what I am,” you return, taking another step closer. “And though I am not the type of woman to play with my food, I simply could not resist with you, Soldier. You are far and away the prettiest thing I’ve caught in the last hundred years.”

You shut your eyes then, and when they open again the glimmering golden flecks and whites are gone. The eyes that stare back at Taehyung now are shiny black, beady.

Vile.

“Get away from me,” Taehyung shouts, shuffling to the side as he tries to clear the cabinet with his body. He stumbles over the nearby wheelbarrow and falls to his knees, nearly dropping the oil lamp in the process.

It’s as he’s struggling to stand that he begins to hear the sounds, grotesque sounds -- fabric ripping apart and popping and cracking that make him want to heave. He abandons his attempts to get to his feet and starts crawling, hooking his lamp between his teeth.

The sound of clanging metal rings out behind him, tools crashing to the ground as you -- as whatever you are -- makes its advance. Taehyung crawls faster, panting as he moves desperately towards the shed doors, which he realizes with dread are now shut tight.

Something comes down on his leg, something that feels like a rod and he scrambles away from it as pain blooms from the point of impact. It is only as he is reaching the doors that he chances a single look back, muscles locking with terror as he holds the lamp before him.

It illuminates the true form of the woman he’d lain with just the night before.

Not a woman at all, but a giant, grotesque spider.

Shiny black legs extending from a long body covered in spots of yellow, blue, and red. The spider rears up on its back legs, poised to strike and Taehyung forces his body to move, hurling the oil lamp into the straw beneath its giant abdomen.

The lamp explodes on impact, flames bursting out of it and onto the straw floor. They lick at his legs and feet as he turns back towards the doors, shoving at them with all of his might.

The spider hisses as the fire grows, the sick smell of burning flesh filling the air as Taehyung keeps shoving, ramming against the doors with his shoulder. They come apart just a bit, enough for Taehyung to squeeze his torso through the opening, dragging his battered legs behind him.

And when he finally manages to stagger to his feet he turns back, just long enough to see the flames start to overtake the roof.

Then he runs.

As fast and as far as his legs will take him.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Taehyung wanders the thick woods for two days.

He limps his way beneath the canopy of the trees, searching desperately for markers, ears attempting to isolate any sound of rowdy men or gunfire. His swollen ankle seems to have a heartbeat of its own, pulsing miserably inside the stressed leather of his boot. The charred skin on his shins rubbing painfully against the rough material of his pants.

Two days he goes without water, without food. Two nights he goes without sleep, refusing to shut his eyes for even one single second.

Never again will he allow himself to let down his guard. Never.

It takes two days for Taehyung to stumble onto a stream, slowly shuffling his way along the bank in search of men camped near the source of water.

He’s close to collapsing from exhaustion and dehydration by the time he spots a bright blue blur through the thick of the trees.

He follows the blur, heart in his throat as it slowly gets closer, clearer. Limping faster with a reserve of energy he’d not realized he could conjure until this very moment.

And when he staggers into the very edge of the Continental Army camp he does collapse, only to be hoisted to his feet by unfamiliar men.

“He’s one of us,” one of them declares, looping Taehyung’s arm over his shoulder and helping him towards a tent. “Looks like he’s seen some shit, too.”

Taehyung would laugh at the absurdity of that understatement if he could only muster the energy.

💀💀💀💀💀💀

The campfire puts off a comforting heat, and Taehyung scoots a bit closer to the flames.

Most of the men are drunk tonight, singing and dancing as though there’s not an entire war going on around them. It’s the kind of reckless behavior that would have set him on edge not long ago, but tonight Taehyung can’t bring himself to care.

A soldier settles into the space beside him, extending a shabby tin cup of ale which Taehyung quickly accepts.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, before he turns back to stare into the flickering light.

“You’re welcome,” the man grins, tipping his cup in a salute before he drinks. “Whole camp’s talking about you. They’ve come up with some wild stories about how you got separated from your men.”

Not wild enough.

“It’s not something I care to recount,” Taehyung shrugs.

“Yeah well, thing of it is that you’re the sixth man to disappear into thin air, from what I’ve heard. We got reports from regiments as far away as New Jersey of soldiers vanishing just like that,” he says, snapping his fingers for effect. “Only you’re the only one who’s come back.”

Taehyung’s stomach lurches, like the ale has spoiled inside his belly.

A memory comes back to him in that moment.

It’s the memory of all those tiny little spiders on the porch, crawling over his boot. He’d been able to beat back the ones he could see, but beneath that bush there must have been hundreds more.

Perhaps thousands more.

Taehyung shrinks into his tattered overcoat to hide the way he starts to shiver.

And he doesn’t say another word.

hi there! are you mad at me? please don't be! i'd love to hear from you about this story 💕you can send me an ask here.

also -- in case you're wondering where i pulled this twisted plot from, i have an explanation for you here.

permanent tag list: @japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv @pxy99 @duck-tan @juliaz1798 @babycoffeefire @oosnapitskat @taefect94 @kookiesspacebuns @namjooningelsewhere @beprisma @thetaetaeworld

[taestyreads]

adorable 🥰

Jimin + ~"I'm trying to be subtle here but...":

[Y/N]"Are you jealous? " [jimin]"No. Why would I? Everything is... Perfectly fine. All cool, no problem, ça roule. "

🖤🖤🖤

pairing: park jimin x reader

genre: fluff, jealousy au

word count: idk bc i wrote it straight on tumblr dot com, but it’s just a drabble

a/n: i just felt like writing something quick on the softer-angsty-without-being-really-angsty side and this request from forever ago was it. not my best work but i hope you guys enjoy!

Ever since you had come back out from the cabin after having thrown one of Jimin’s cozy hoodies over your head, and claimed back your seat next to him around the bonfire as all your friends shared stories that rather cool summer night, you had not been able to ignore his intense glare on you.

It had been over ten minutes since, and you still had no clue over what was going on for him to not pull you into his arms like he had been doing all night long, even more after being well aware of how cold you were.

Although your relationship wasn’t officially defined given how little time he had to keep up with one, you had cared for one another in a more than friends way for long enough, and had kissed way too many times not to consider yourself taken by one another.

You were his and he was yours.

And hence, you did not understand why he seemed so mad over you wearing one of his hoodies. He always offered you the one he was currently wearing whenever he noticed you were the slightest bit cold. He had even done exactly that only minutes ago — having you refuse his offer and instead going back inside the cabin you had all rented for the weekend, to get something to warm yourself up with.

Staring down to the ocean blue piece of clothing you had chosen, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he didn’t want you to wear that particular one. After all, you had never seen it before, which made you guess it must’ve been new. Then again, he had never been that possessive over his clothes, whether new or old — not when it came to you.

“Do you want me to go change?” you ended up wondering in more of a whisper, only for him to hear.

Jimin shrugged, eyes fixed on the fire going up and disappearing into the air in front of you. “If you want to”.

That meant yes. You knew that was a yes.

And although you didn’t know why specifically he wanted you to change, you didn’t want to be the reason he was upset, which is why you settled for just nodding your head before getting up.

“Yah, you thief!” Hoseok’s loud voice coming from the other side of the bonfire caught your attention. “Why are you wearing my hoodie?”

Even though he was smiling, finding this whole situation to be hilarious just as the rest of your friends did, you panicked — eyes instantly going down to Jimin, whose jaw had seemed to tense up at his hyung’s words.

The puzzle pieces suddenly coming together.

“This is Jimin-ie’s” you argued anyway.

“Judging by how jealous he looks right now, you better believe it’s mine, love”.

That had only seemed to make your already drunken group of friends laugh harder.

Throwing them all a subtle glare for them to leave him alone and resume whatever conversation they were having before you had gotten up, you looked to the sulking guy next to you for a couple of seconds.

The least you could do was try and reassure him of the fact that you had not deliberately chosen his friend’s hoodie over his. Try and reassure him that his clothes were the only ones you wanted to ever steal, for you wanted everyone to know it was him you were —unofficially— taken by.

That is why his eyes opened wide in surprise when you sat down on his lap and your hands rested loosely around his neck.

“This is why you wouldn’t look at me? Because I’m wearing Hobi’s hoodie?” you whispered, softly caressing his cheek as he continued to say nothing. “Are you mad?”

He shook his head no. His lack of speaking was not very encouraging whatsoever.

“Are you jealous?” you worded it differently.

“No,” Jimin denied, that had seemed to touch a nerve. “Why would I? Everything is... perfectly fine. All cool, no problem, ça roule”.

“Jimin…” you quietly pleaded for him to drop his act.

He let out a defeated sigh. “It’s whatever. You can wear anyone’s clothes, we’re not t—”

“Don’t you dare say we’re not together,” you warned him. “I will get up and walk away right this moment if you do”.

At your determined words, you felt his hands finally go around your body, pulling you tightly towards him as he shook his head and nuzzled your neck — not even dreaming of finishing his sentence.

You were right. You were together. And he was not risking losing you over his careless words while being indeed very jealous.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s stupid, though. It’s just clothing”.

“But it clearly upsets you” you pouted, resting your chin on his head. “I’m sorry, I honestly thought it was yours”.

“You promise?”

“I promise” you reassured him, pressing a small kiss to the crown of his head. “You should’ve just told me”.

“I didn’t wanna sound possessive” he uncomfortably shifted on his seat.

“Oh, yes, and glaring at me for ten minutes straight without saying a word is so much better” you rolled your eyes.

Jimin chuckled, pulling away from your neck and staring at you with loving eyes. “I was glaring at the hoodie, not at you”.

You shook your head in amusement, before your bottom lip stuck out in another pout. “I thought you were mad I had taken one of your hoodies instead of wearing my own”.

“You should know by now I love seeing you wear my clothes” he hummed, leaning in just enough to sweetly brush his lips against yours.

“Which is why I was so confused” you pointed out, blissfully receiving the tender kiss he had just hushed you with.

A bright smile curved up his mouth when your hand cupped his cheek and you pulled him into another kiss, just as his lips had started to abandon yours.

It didn’t last long, though, for a rather shy giggle escaped your mouth less than ten seconds later, at the sound of your friends both complaining and cheering over your quite lovey dovey actions — causing you to pull away from his longing lips for once and for all.

Jimin wasted no time to pull you to his chest, being now his turn to glare at everyone looking your way, before he could plant a brief kiss to the top of your head and let his forehead fall to your shoulder.

“You smell like Hobi hyung” he complained.

“I do not—”

“Would I be crossing a line if I asked you to go change?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a loud, dramatic sigh before you grabbed him by his shoulders — shoving him against the back of his seat and leaning closer to his flushed face.

“So jealous” you called him out, pressing a chaste kiss to his pouty lips before you stood up to comply with his wishes.

His hand was quick to grab yours, standing up right after you and intertwining your fingers as he dragged you away from the bonfire with him.

“I’m coming with you so you actually get mine this time”.

And to make out with you a for a little longer without having everyone around. But they could always figure that out on their own.

[taestyreads]

😳😳😳

this is. so. hot. 

“Jimin? None of that grinding against the carpet. If you come anywhere but inside me, you’re going to pay for it.”

🥵🥵🥵 i can’t get over this image...

Merry & Bright {21}: Everything You Want

Previous: Your Love is All I Need 

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: SMUT

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Oral Sex! Vaginal Fingering! P-in-V Sex! Swearing! Unprotected Sex! Slight Dom/Sub but like barely!

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: The rhythm of your heart is all Jimin needs to set the pace.

Notes: Okay so maybe Jimin got 4 chapters …. don’t blame me … love made me crazy.

Master List: Merry & Bright 2021

Listening: Fa La La (A Capella), Justin Bieber feat. Boyz II Men

Tag List 

Tag List: @knjkitten​ @mochikeyds​

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[taestyreads]

this is adorable!! i love how it captures the excitement of a new relationship in the context of an established friendship. they’re so comfortable with each other and yet all those butterflies are still there 🥺 this was the perfect lil fluffy drabble, thank you for sharing it ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Twelve Years

Summary: Best friends make the best lovers. 

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Light fluff, allusions to sex

Word Count: 1072

*

*

“Honestly, it’s not even that big of a deal, you can hardly see it.” Taehyung lied, grinning like the piece of shit he was.

“It’s a giant effing hickey on my neck, of course you can see it!” You hissed, grabbing your shirt off the floor.

“Well at least your shirt covers the ones on your boobs,” he replied nonchalantly, “silver lining.”

“This isn’t funny, Tae!” You snapped, pawing at your neck. “My parents are out there and this is meant to be a family friendly function.”

“Well you should have thought about that before wearing such a cute little skirt.” He groaned as you slid said skirt over your hips, tucking in your shirt. “Your ass was just begging me to spank it.”

You turned to roll your eyes at him, “I’ve worn this skirt millions of times but you’ve never forced me into the bathroom before.”

“That’s because I was still very firmly in the friend zone,” Taehyung smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in the crook of your neck, “I’m so glad to be out of there, it was so dark and lonely.” His teeth sinking into the skin just below your ear had you hissing and pulling away.

“I swear, if you put another hickey on my body I’ll send you flying so fast back into the friend zone you won’t even know what hit you.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Taehyung pouted, “now that you know what my dick feels like there’s no way you’d be able to follow through on that threat.”

You spluttered, blushing hotly because he was so freaking right and he damn well knew it. He didn’t get to be your best friend of 15 years for nothing. “Seriously, stop. No one knows about us yet. I don’t even really know about us. We haven’t exactly talked about the ‘terms and conditions’ of this thing yet.”

“Really?” He frowned, eyebrow rising, “You’re gonna let your best friend bone you repeatedly and still act like you’re not dating?”

“Well we haven’t discussed it!” You blushed.

“OK, so let’s discuss it.” He said, leaning back against the counter and pulling your body into his. “I don’t just sleep with anyone, you know? And considering that we’ve been best friends for the better half of our lives, wouldn’t you think that this meant more to me than just a few opportunities to get lucky? Come on, Y/n, your friendship means everything to me…why would I throw that all away if this didn’t mean something more to me? I wouldn’t risk losing you as my friend over something so trivial.”

Your heart fluttered like the pathetic floosy she is. If someone had asked you 6 months ago if you’d start a romantic relationship with your platonic best friend you would have laughed in their face. Though Taehyung was always handsome, you’d never seen him as anything more than a friend until that night you’d caught him tending to the wing of a tiny injured chickadee in the garden.

Once he’d released the tiny white bird you’d asked him what he was doing and after jumping and cursing you for scaring him he’d flushed so deeply you were startled by the increased beating of your heart at his embarrassment. Had he always been this cute? When did his eyes get so brown? Was there always a little tiny freckle on his bottom lip and when had you decided you wanted to kiss it?

“Well,” You mumbled absently, eyes trailing back to his lips as the memory faded, “I suppose not.” Playing with the collar of his shirt you looked up at him. His eyes were soft, so soft, and he was peering down at you through his eyelashes.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” He grinned and you scoffed, though you couldn’t help the quirk of your own lips.

“Go ahead, then.”

“I’m in love with you,” He said simply, pushing your hair away from your face, “like, the super gross, mushy kind. I wanna date you and marry you and someday make babies with you kind.”

You flushed, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.  “And how long have you known you were in love with the patient?” You said and Taehyung smirked.

“Oh, are you a therapist now?” You hummed in acknowledgement and he continued, “well, doctor, I can remember the first time I realized pretty vividly that I liked her as way more than a friend. She was dressed in a pretty pink dress, all ready to do her dance recital with her dance partner, Jimin, a scrappy guy who ended up being her boyfriend for 4 of the longest years of my life. She danced beautifully. It’s not even that she was graceful because, trust me, she wasn’t,” you slapped his chest, laughing, “but she just danced with so much conviction. She was really trying her best and I’d never seen anything so beautiful.”

“I was 15 at that dance recital.” You whispered.

“Yeah.” He murmured softly in return. Twelve years. He’d waited twelve long years to tell you how he really felt about you.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long.” You frowned.

“Does that mean the wait is over?” He asked softly and you smiled, nodding.

“The wait is over.”

“It was worth it.” He whispered, kissing you softly. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pulled him closer to you, deepening the kiss.

“I love you.” He whispered as he pulled back, resting his forehead against your own.

“I love you too.” You sighed, tilting your head up for one more quick kiss. “So does that mean I get to call you my boyfriend now?”

“You could have been calling me that for year’s sweetheart,” at your frown he grinned, winking, “but yes, that’s definitely what it means.”

“Well,” you sighed, pulling away and smoothing down your clothing, “we should probably go back to the party. My parents will be wondering where we’ve been and with this bear sized hickey on my neck, now they’ll know.”

“Maybe you should pull down your shirt a little, that way they’ll really know.” He said. You laughed, reaching back to smack his stomach before unlocking the door and lacing your fingers through his.

“Come on, lover boy.”

*

*

I wrote a thing. Just a little thing while I keep writing chapters for my different series. Please let me know what you think loves!

Copyright © 2018  by taeken-my-heart (Nora). All rights reserved.

[taestyreads]

omg i can’t believe i haven’t reblogged this before...i love this fic so so much even though i felt so bad for yoongi (it’s true love yoons i’m sorry 😭😭). i will never get enough of the memory loss trope and this absolutely nails it 🥺 

Until Yesterday

➜ Words: 10.4k

➜ Genres: 75% Fluff, 22% Angst, 3% Smut

➜ Summary: You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying “I do”, you’re hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don’t have a husband.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie The Vow (2012) and a bit of The Notebook (2004). This is purely an indulgent fic for all my hopeless romantics out there, so it’s a bit different from my usual!

cr.

Keep reading

[taestyreads]

mai is about to destroy my will to live 😭😭😭

'Til Death Do Us Part (snippet)

summary: You will love him forevermore. In sickness and in health. ‘Til death do us part.

pairing: husband!namjoon x wife!reader (but in this snippet, the reader is not present. it’s an intimate scene between namjoon, taehyung, yoongi, and jungkook.)

wc: 874

genre: angst, pg13 (the actual fic will most likely be an 18+ rating but this excerpt by itself is sfw!)

warnings: major character death, a lot of talking about dying, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (no dying happening in this excerpt but i’m noting it now just so everyone is aware!)

a/n: a little excerpt from an angsty joon fic i’ve been “writing” for the past 2 years lmao. uuuuhhhh….i guess let me know what you think? do you want more of this? i’ve looked at this doc and cried too many times to even know if its worth anything anymore lol

It’s tensely quiet after the reveal. No one dares breathe.

The living room feels like a furnace and it’s so suffocating. Namjoon fidgets in his seat, unable to look any of the men in the eyes. He doesn’t know how they’ll react. How does one even react to news like this? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything anymore. Maybe it was a mistake to tell them like this. Maybe he should call you to come back. He can’t do this without you. He needs you—

Jungkook’s the first to react.

He laughs. The noise is so unsettling. Much too out of place for the heavy confession that hangs over their heads.

Keep reading

[taestyreads]

what an incredible end to a truly incredible series. the development in this series, the layers to it, the amount of thought, planning, and detail that’s gone into it…it’s just unparalleled and I feel so blessed to have gotten the full of experience of it. that first drabble is seared into my brain and seeing these two here now just feels unreal. rain, the way you told this story through the small moments and snippets, strategically revealing information to the audience along the way, illustrating the changes in their relationship and their independent development at the same time… on top of having just the most beautiful prose… it’s such a treat as a reader. thank you so much for sharing this fic with us and for all your hard work and dedication. this is truly such an amazing feat and I’m so grateful and in awe of you for it ❤️❤️❤️

march 9, 1872.

may you always trust in the strength of your own heart. may all your trials end in fullest bloom.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, romance, fluff words: 3k a/n: we’re finally here.

moonlit throne index. this is the final drabble. start from the beginning?

Tonight, the quiet, constant moon is the sole witness to your eager steps as you and the king of Joseon hurry down the corridor towards your chambers, your faces alight with mischievous grins. The sleeves of your favorite hanbok billow in the balmy wind of a coming spring, the pink fabric edges worn soft with time. In Yoongi’s arms, he cradles a tray, trying his best not to spill the contents of the covered bowls it supports.

Keep reading

[taestyreads]

this jimin is such an absolute sweetheart 🥺😍 and fuck, if this didn’t bring out my inner jimin c*mwh*re… 🥴 another incredible fic, b!! i remember you saying you weren’t happy with it as you wrote but I absolutely love it ❤️❤️❤️

Ho-Ho-Home

❄ pairing: neighbor!jimin x f. reader

❄ genre: childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, smut [18+]

❄ wc: 15.5k (idk how that happened)

❄ summary: Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

❄ warnings: cursing, Jimin calls you doll (a lot!), the reader is jealous of jimin, one-sided rivalry, jimin and oc were childhood friends (somewhat) but she’s forgotten about him, meddling from oc’s mom, neglectful parents (Jimin’s), making out, marking (hickeys, biting, scratching, hair pulling, hand job, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), slight overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play

❄ date: December 24, 2021

Keep reading

[taestyreads]

AHHHHhhhHHhHhhHh!!! E I loved this!! i am obsessed with the way you write your male leads and this joon is a perfect example. i absolutely loved the contrast between alpha!oc and joon being nerdy and not an alpha-type (in both the werewolf and human sense). he’s a dreamboat 🥺 these two were absolute cuties, thank you for sharing!!

THE HOWL-O-DAYS (credit)

credit

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: university, a/b/o (kinda), f2l, fluff, smut

rating: M

word count: 8.7k

warnings: smut in the form of under the clothes touching, protected penetrative sex; some cursing, some drunkenness; there's mention of anxiety meds (and what that does to magical creatures), bad lines and cheesy puns, and hopefully some serious cuteness.

a/n: Happy Holiday Fic Exchange (@btswritingcafe) @namjin-fangirling-again! I'm sorry I wasn't much of a message-sender, but it was still fun to send you notes. And then to join the discord with you! I hope this kinda fits your vibe. I used three out of your four fluff prompts, which are all bolded. Anyway, a thank you to @xjoonchildx for reading and calming me down about this fic. I'm sure there are mistakes, but hopefully not too many.

masterlist

-----

“This weather makes me cold but being with you makes me feel warm inside.”

Joon snorts and shakes his head. “Where did you get these?”

You shrug, grateful that you’re always warm so he has no idea that you’re embarrassed. Being a werewolf has its benefits and an above average temperature is one of them. Except in the summer, when it sucks so much, you wish you could just lay in a tub of ice 24/7.

“Why do you insist on trying these lines out on me?” He asks.

Never mind that you’ve been doing this all year (okay semester) in an attempt to see what might actually work on a human.

“You don’t think it’s sweet?” is all you say, gauging his response. You sip your iced mocha, trying not to be too obvious about inhaling so maybe you can figure out what he’s thinking.

Humans are pretty easy to read most of the time, but Kim Namjoon is the exception. You used to be able to smell his emotions (some of them pretty private - when he’d totally gotten a boner because of Yuna, the prettiest girl in seventh grade touching his arm in an effort to get him to do her math homework), but things had changed since university. Maybe it’s because he’s at his school (for humans) and you’re at yours (for the enhanced), so time together is less. Maybe there’s a class he’s taken that he didn’t tell you about: “How to cloak your emotions against your werewolf best friend.”

Maybe it’s something else.

“It’s cheesy. I think you should stay away from rom coms and fluff novels,” he mutters, sipping his coffee, before furrowing his brow as he reads something from Infinite Jest, which has to be the biggest book you’ve ever seen outside of a college textbook (even then). He jots down something in the margins before looking back up at you. You’re caught.

“Something on my face?”

“Just dimples,” you reply winsomely. He rolls his eyes. He’s grumpy today and you don’t know why. You breathe in deeply, but the coffee and the cinnamon roll overpowers anything else. Not that you’re complaining. Cinnamon rolls are truly the most wonderful thing.

“Besides you’re over 100 degrees on a regular basis, so that stupid line doesn’t work. Not for you,” he explains, his damned logic overpowering your attempt at being flirty. Not that you’re being flirty with Joon. That’d be highly, uh, wrong. He nods at your thin sweater. “Don’t even need a winter coat.”

“You sound jealous.”

He snorts again, but there’s a hint of a smile. “What can I say, sometimes it’s tiring just being a normie.”

You open your mouth, but close it. Yes, he’s human, but he’s so much more than normal. You stir your drink with your straw and pretend to read your “Shapeshifters or Werewolves? Who is more powerful?” argument essay for the third time. You don’t have Joon’s vocabulary, but you think it’s pretty good.

He’s still reading, so you look out the window at the pouring rain; not icy yet. You lean over to look at Joon’s shoes. Not at all appropriate for the deluge outside.

“I can carry you to class.”

He purses his lips. “No.”

“You’re gonna get soaked.”

“I have an umbrella.”

“But--”

“No.” He doesn’t yell. Unless he’s drunk. When he’s frustrated he goes quiet and firm.

He’s currently frustrated.

Your wolf bristles at being denied what it considers its right: to protect and take care of its own. But you stamp it down. Tell it to hush.

“I could just do it anyway.”

He glares at you. “But you wouldn’t because you aren’t that type.”

The type to claim dominance? You’re not. Not with him anyway. You are with newer friends, friends you’ve made since coming into your wolf fully. Your university friends are all betas, letting you be the alpha that itches inside you. But Joon is human. He knows the werewolf customs, but he doesn’t ‘get’ it.

Why would he? He’s blissfully normal.

You sigh and poke the last somewhat solid marshmallow. “I wouldn’t.”

He closes his book and glances at his watch. “I gotta go.”

You nod, your leg bouncing with the energy to defy his wishes and just sweep him in your arms and cart him quickly to his campus and his class.

He reaches out and rests his hand on your leg. You freeze and stare wide-eyed at him. He smiles warmly.

“Thanks for wanting to though.” He pats your leg like that wasn’t the most intimate touch you’ve ever had (technically it’s not, but the electric shock from it is pretty potent). He stands, stuffing his things into his messenger bag. “I’ll see you next week?”

You want to whine. Whine that you barely see him anymore, and it’s affecting your ability to read his scent. But you are more mature than that. Right?

“Maybe we could hang out this weekend?” You hope that you don’t sound needy.

He slips the bag strap over his shoulder, looking at you with a serious expression. He’s thinking. When he’s thinking, the muscle in this jaw moves and it’s so fucking hot you just kinda want to nibble at it.

It’s your wolf talking, not you.

“There’s a party at my friend’s frat if you wanna come.”

“Not at your frat?”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t join one. You know that.”

“You don’t think you’re missing out on the real college experience?”

“Black out drunk and probably STDs? No.”

God, why were you friends with such a stick in the mud? He grins at you.

“But if you want to get black out drunk…”

You grumble. It takes a hell of a lot of alcohol to get you drunk. It’s not even worth the effort for the tiny buzz.

“I’ll text you the details.”

“You’ll come if I show up?” You sit up, resting your chin in your hands, smiling widely at him.

He sighs as though he has no patience, but his gorgeous eyes are sparkling. He might act like you’re exasperating, but he really doesn’t mind. Much.

“I’ll come. For a bit.”

“Beer pong, you and me?”

He pressed his lips together. “Maybe.”

“We’d win.”

“I’ll think about it.” He glances at his watch again. “Okay, I really have to go.” He starts to move backward, giving you a small wave. You open your mouth to warn him, but you’re too late. He bumps into some co-ed and she screeches at her iced something or other spilling on the floor. “Oh shit, I mean, I’m sorry.”

You jump up the moment the girl spins around, eyes fiery. She doesn’t see it. She doesn’t see how cute Joon is. A lot of humans can’t. You suppose it’s because he’s kind of nerdy looking with his thick framed glasses, messy hair, and clothing that’s a little too big for him. But he is cute.

“Why don’t you--?”

“Let me buy you a coffee?” you interrupt the girl, sure she’s about to harangue your best friend. “My friend is late for class.”

Joon is bright red, but nods silently and hurries away. He looks back at you once and mouths ‘thank you.’ You shrug to dismiss that he owes you anything at all before focusing back on the upset redhead.

“He your boyfriend or something?” she asks. You hear it in her words, in the inflection of her voice and you sigh.

“Nope.”

Her manner immediately brightens. “Really? You’re single?”

So along with the abnormally high body temperature, excellent nose, and general inability to get sick, wolves also produce more pheromones than your average human. This doesn't mean that anyone is attracted to you. Obviously pheromones are a unique scent to everyone, and not everyone digs what you put out, you know? But it does mean, you know pretty soon if and when someone is into you or not because as an alpha, yours are more potent.

“Single and ready to mingle,” you retort, pretty sure that a line like that would turn anyone off. But no, she moves closer, touching your arm casually.

Son of a female human.

“What do you study?” she continues and you just sigh, leading her over to the cash register for a drink. Hopefully, you can buy and run.

You glance back at your empty table and see that Joon left his beanie.

Well, the day isn’t a total waste.

----

The text reads that the party started at about ten pm, and that you have to bring someone so the numbers of guys and girls will be a bit more even.

Which just bugged the shit out of you. So you did invite someone.

You invite Jungkook.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” It’s at least the twentieth time he’s inflected this general idea. You kinda want to slap him. But you know he is a baby (the youngest of your friend group and smart enough to start university at not quite seventeen), and this frat party thing is a big deal to him.

“Kook,” you say as calmly as you can. He flinches a bit. You never raise a hand to any of your beta and omega friends, only ever roughhouse in sport and training. But it doesn’t matter. Your status comes out in your voice, in your manner, in your general whatever that affects only other wolves.

“I’m excited, alpha-noona,” he says meekly. You smile at him, unable not to, because he is a cutie. “My first human party in college. That’s like...20% of all college age movies.”

“I’m excited too. But we need to be careful. Don’t drink anything. Unless you open it yourself or I give it to you.”

He nods with the utmost sincerity. Werewolves might not get drunk easily, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things that can absolutely knock you out. Wolfsbane, mistletoe, and a few other things that you’re sure you learn about once you’re officially in charge of your own pack.

“I finally get to meet your human BFF, right? The Kim Namjoon.” The excitement and puppy-joy is back in Jungkook’s bouncy walk and bright eyes.

“Please don’t call him that.”

“I won’t. I’ll call him...sir.”

You grab the younger wolf by the neck, not unlike a mother to a cub, bringing him to you. “Just chill, okay? We don’t necessarily want to draw attention to our...differences.”

He nods again, absolutely serious. You squeeze the back of his neck affectionately, and he grins toothily.

You can hear the party well before you can see the lighted house. You laugh when Kook wrinkles his nose at the very human scents that reach both of you with still yards to cover.

“They smell.”

“They do. You’ll just have to get used to it, Kook. How else will we be able to go in and hang out with them?”

“I guess.” He sniffs again. “Ohhhhh.”

You sniff and roll your eyes. Female. Very interested female. It didn’t matter that neither of you were close enough to be the intended target. It is still very apparent that this is a willing and interested party.

“You’re only seventeen.”

He raises up to his full height. He might be a wolf baby, but puberty hits your kind sooner than most humans. Which means Jungkook looks like he’s easily in his early twenties; fit body, good and sharp jaw line. For you, his eyes are the dead giveaway of his youth and inexperience, but very few humans are that observant in your experience.

“And I’d like to just talk without you know...turning red,” he tells you.

“Just be careful.”

The two of you are much closer now, sights matching the sounds and scents. You wince as your sensitive senses are accosted by pungent human sweat, arousal, and fermented veggies (alcohol and liquor). It’ll take a bit before your nose acclimates (more like is so burned that it doesn’t register it all any more). It’s one of those things you have to suffer if you want to deal with humans in closed spaces.

Don’t even get you started on indoor concerts. You gave that up half a decade ago.

You grab Kook’s hand. More for yourself than him if you’re honest. You need grounding. Another wolf is always helpful in this kind of experience. He squeezes your hand in response and you are grateful that he doesn’t question your motives.

Entering into the house is a bit like walking into a parfumerie after an earthquake. But maybe a parfumerie would be more pleasant? Your eyes water and you wipe them with your other hand. You slip your phone out of your pocket to text Joon. Kook stands close to you, his scent making it more breathable.

Here. Where are you?

You look up, wondering if you can find your friend in this mess of people.

“Drinks?”

You nod, knowing it won’t affect you, but might as well. You follow JK who seems to have better direction than you currently. He finds the kitchen, and grabs two beers. With practiced ease, he pops off both tops, one after the other with his bottom canine tooth. You roll your eyes, but let him have his fun.

Besides, looks like he has an interested audience. Without words, you nudge him and indicate the onlookers.

His smug grin is too adult for him, but you wave him on. There’s one last look to make sure you’re okay, but then he’s swallowed up by the crowd.

You sip your beer and pull your phone back out to see if there’s a response.

Downstairs, there’s a pool table.

You snort out a laugh. Joon, playing something that requires coordination? You have to see this.

You slip through the people, feeling the occasional lingering look. You don’t look back. Eye contact encourages other forms of contact and you don’t think you’re in the mood.

One night stands tend to turn out badly for you.

You find the stairs after speaking with a few different guys who appear to you to be frat boys. You apparently have no idea about Greek life because several of them turn up their noses when you think that they belong to THIS fraternity.

Wolves don’t really need Greek life. Community is already sort of a given in packs.

You walk down the stairs in time to see Joon off to the side, holding a pool cue upright and kind of leaning on it.

You take a moment to admire.

Your friend isn’t crazy built like your pack, but despite his bookish ways, he does regularly go to the school gym and run. He’d been so skinny when you both were growing up, but his recent penchant for lifting weights is definitely showing in his arms.

Because he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt even though it’s around 40 degrees outside.

“Who’s the babe?”

You snort in such a way that you’re sure if the rando is actually into you, he probably isn’t after that display. You look at him and sigh internally.

Nope, not even a snort could deter an intoxicated college human.

Joon says your name, waving you over. HIs smile is bright which surprises you, but as you get close, you smell why.

He’s been drinking. That explains his slight swaying as well.

Well, now you have to be near him to make sure he doesn’t fall.

Obviously.

“Hey Joonie.” You smile up at him. His perfectly shaped eyes (you once had compared them to dragon eyes and he’d groaned, saying that you couldn’t compare anything to an imagined creature.)

“You fucking a were-chick?”

Yep, you definitely didn’t like this rando.

You spare him a look and roll your eyes. You don’t say anything. As much as you want to defend Joon, you know better. He’s gotten a lot less okay with your protective instincts since you all went to university. It’s against every fiber of your wolf not to snap at this guy.

Besides, you aren’t sure if the rando is impressed or disgusted. Maybe a little of both.

Normies tend to divide into three camps about the enhanced beings that now populate their world (because they thought they were alone until about a hundred years ago - dumbasses).

First camp: the antis. Typical narrow-minded assholes who believe anything out of the ordinary is a blight. Their actions are outlawed by the government, but that doesn’t stop the occasional hunter from trying to prove he or she is stronger and better.

Second camp: the fetishers. There are so many rumors about weres (all kinds) and shapeshifters. About size, stamina, and repeat performances. Never mind the idea that witches can create something better than Viagra. The rumors aren’t without some truth, but no one likes to be just a phase, and wanting to fuck a ‘special’ is right up there with all the other experimentation in college.

Not that your pack says no. A willing human can certainly be tempting, but as a sophomore, you’re already sick of being a thing and a vessel, not a person.

The third camp—

“And if I do?” Joon replies, shocking the hell out of you. “You wish you had it so good.”

Your brain, unhindered by alcohol, is practically sputtering. The few times the two of you mixed with humans (very very few as it tended to just be the two of you), Joon had always been clear about your platonic interactions. This is unheard of.

The rando sneers. “I knew there was something fucked up about you, Kim. You probably fuck Prof. Tolbert too, right? No way your project got that grade.”

Okay, you’re pissed. It’s one thing for someone to be disgusted with ‘special’ sex - that’s part of the current territory. It’s another to question the pure awesomeness of Namjoon’s brain. And his hard work.

“Listen you cretin,” you begin. “Joon could ace every single assignment as a monk if he wanted to. His brain works with or without coming.” You slide your hand down your friend’s chest, eyes still on the peon on the other side of the pool table. When you reach Joon’s crotch, you pat lightly, as though you’re familiar with it.

You’re not. You don’t count six year old Joon streaking because you’d stolen his clothes after he had made fun of your teeth (they were a bit big for your mouth back then).

You hear him gulp at your touch.

“But he fucks me like a beast. We like them smart and sexy.”

There’s some response under your hand and in an effort to save the both of you from full embarrassment, you move to step in front of him, almost having your ass take the place of your hand, but not quite.

You probably don’t need to know his measurements.

“And you,” you continue. “You probably haven’t had your balls drop yet?”

He growls, but it’s so pitiful that you laugh. A normie. Growling. Hysterical.

“Guess Joon has a thing for bitches.”

Joon takes a step forward to retaliate, and in so doing, you do feel him right there.

Holy shit.

But you stop him with one hand on his chest. You know that humans don’t look too well on fighting, especially in academic settings and Joon has a serious scholarship that he has to keep.

Joon says your name under his breath. The low register and rasp gives you the tingles.

Why is your best friend so hot?

You force a smile to show you’re totally not turned on right now.

“You think that’s the first time I’ve been called a bitch? It’s a term of endearment for us.” You raise up on the balls of your feet and kiss that clenching jaw muscle. You can hear his breath catch but you turn back to the stupidity parading around as a human. “Guess you have a thing for bad comebacks.” You glance around the basement, noticing that only a few people are actually paying attention to this little interaction.

The third camp is your favorite: the uninterested. They don’t hate, they don’t idolize. They just accept that you exist and go about their business. The surrounding group in the basement might be under the influence and that’s what makes them disinterested, but you’ll take it.

You look back at Joon. “Wanna come upstairs?” You’d like nothing more than to destroy the miscreant, but you’ve been holding back your wolf urges for over half a decade now when with humans. You have skills.

Joon’s eyes go from glaring at the rando to you. There’s a softening from the anger to something else, but then it’s just panic.

“I, uh…” He swerves around you and practically runs up the stairs, leaving you bewildered. The rando rolls his eyes before going back to the game.

“He sucked at this anyway.”

You open your mouth to defend him, but his hand-eye coordination really is lacking.

You don’t move for a few seconds, the entire scene replaying through your head. Nothing too weird had happened, had it? As you breathe in, you smell it. At first you think it’s the dumb human still playing and drinking a crappy beer, but you know the scent signature.

It’s definitely Namjoon. And that’s definitely the scent of arousal.

--

When you hurry back to the main floor, you can’t find him. His height does give you advantage usually in spotting him, but after a good half hour and several unanswered texts, you get one that answers your question.

Didn’t feel good. Went home. Sorry.

You want to tell him it’s okay. Of course he’s turned on. You touched his cock after all. That’s not anything more than a biological response. You know it doesn’t mean anything.

You admit to yourself as you exit into the back patio area (of course there’s a swimming pool) that you wish it meant something, but you know better. While being away from him makes you see him in a new light, being away from you has just made him harder to read and more distant.

“Alpha,” Jungkook is at your side, drenched (took a dip, did he?), giggling. He wipes his face of the excess water and then breathes in. His amusement stops. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine. Go on. I’ll be here when you’re ready to head back.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking very much like the puppy that he is. “Where’s your friend?”

“Went home. Didn’t feel good.”

Your young pack member doesn’t say anything for a little bit. By that time, a gaggle (calling them a pack is offensive) of similarly wet humans caught up with him.

“Come play,” is the overriding entreaty.

He turns when the whines turn more plaintive. “Go.”

He’s a beta, but even a beta can show some dominance to the normies. They pout, but leave. He looks back at you, and you don’t need to smell him to know he’s worried. You can see it in those pretty pretty eyes of his.

“We can go.”

“This is your big frat party to experience, Kook. Go on.” Your smile is weak, but it’s all you got. He shakes his head back and forth to rid himself of the excess water. You curse him, holding up your hands in defense. But you’re laughing.

And you’re once again grateful to have the friends you have.

—-

“They say to watch snow falling with someone is a sign of love….and I couldn’t agree more.”

“It’s not snowing.”

“I thought that was a good one.”

“Your lines are getting worse,” Joon tells you when you meet for coffee several days later. “I don’t know anyone that would work on.”

“I think you’re a bit narrow-minded about all this.” You reach out to steal an almond from his stash. He smacks your hand and you push out your lower lip. “You could be nice to me. You did ditch me at the party you invited me to.”

His eyes immediately dart away from you, staring at his soy, two-pump vanilla, dry cappuccino like it’s got all the answers. “I said I was sorry.”

“And I accepted your apology.”

He still doesn’t look up.

“Joon,” you drop your voice. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I know you can’t help it. I touched your dick and it got hard. It’s okay.”

“Dammit, can you not—?” He looks up now. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? I live with a group of guys. I know a lot about dicks. Or do you prefer cock? I feel like either has the same sort of impact.” You see his ears are red, as well as the top of his cheeks. Humans are so much fun to tease. Especially your human.

You mean, your human BFF.

“None of it. I don’t want to talk about any of it.” He doesn’t even look at his phone. “I have to go.”

“But…”

He hurriedly gathers his things. “I can’t right now, okay? I just….” He leaves without finishing his thought and even without his almonds. You could chase him. You’re faster than him. But you try only to chase when it’s absolutely necessary. For protection or for sport.

Joon falls under his own category.

——

He doesn’t show up for your next coffee hang. Doesn’t even text until you text him.

Sorry. Big project.

The next time it’s a paper. Then a presentation.

Then it’s exams.

So now? Now you’re really hurt. And when you’re hurt, you do what any werewolf would do.

You get pissed.

Not even the first snowfall could stop you from your very thought-out, organized, and superb plan.

He freezes when he sees you. Coming out of his last exam, probably already packed up his things for home (home isn’t far for either of you, and normally you’d drive home together, but guess that’s also off the table, just like your coffee hangs), ready to take a break from all things academia.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” He walks up to you, a beanie on his his head, askew. He’s wrapped up in what looks like three layers and you stand there in a pink thermal top and black joggers. “I got a ride.”

Well, that just made it worse, right? That he purposefully found another way home. WITHOUT YOU!

You grab him by the front of his puffy jacket and pull him close. “You. Are. Mean. Kim Namjoon.” You let go and turn around to head back to your car.

You thought you’d have more to say, but seeing him, looking so cute and snuggly in all his layers, those big boots on those big feet; maybe you aren’t going to be a great alpha. You can’t even stay mad at him.

You just want to cry.

You hear your name, know it’s him (the joys of exceptional hearing), but you keep going. In fact, you’re almost home free and in your car, the only place you can freely and safely cry without anyone knowing; when he’s right behind you.

He’s gotten good at running.

“I’m sorry.”

You face your car, debating on turning around and letting him have the chance to see that you’re hurt. Maybe he won’t notice.

He’s just a human after all.

So you do turn, lift your chin and stare at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that.”

He pulls off his bag from his shoulder, placing it on the sidewalk, where it will inevitably get wet from the large flakes falling from the sky. You huff in annoyance, grab his bag, unlock your car and throw it in before slamming the door closed again.

“You shouldn’t slam your doors, you know. It’s not good for the car.”

“I may not have your IQ, or you know be fully human, but I know my car, Joon.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He drops his head, rubbing the back of his hair, dislodging his hat. You huff again and bend down to pick it up, brushing off the snow as best you can. You offer it to him. “Thanks.”

You don’t say anything.

He fiddles with his beanie, gloved hands twisting it for several seconds before you open the passenger door and point.

“Get in.”

He does.

You turn on the heat in your car (it takes you a moment as you forgot how) and turn so you can watch him.

“What are you sorry for, Joon?”

He pulls off his gloves, flexing his fingers in front of the vent. “For avoiding you.”

“I thought you had school work.”

He shoots you a look. “I do. I did. I just…it was an easy excuse.” It’s quiet again.

“Am I going to have to ask all the questions?”

“This is hard, okay?” He grumbles. “I’m nervous.”

You sniff, but don’t smell anything but basic (sexy) Joon scent. “You sure?” You sniff again.

He shakes his head. “You can’t tell. I mean, I know you can’t smell it.”

Your eyes widen. He knows?

“You know?”

He nods. “I, uh…” He scratches behind his ear, looking out the windshield which is pointless as it’s mostly white and opaque. “I got put on some medication.”

Every little bit of your hurt and anger dissipates. “You what? Are you okay? What’s it for? Why—?”

He covers your mouth with his hand. “Calm down, future alpha.” He waits until you nod before removing his hand. “Anxiety.”

“Oh Joon.”

“Stop it…”

“Your parents put so much pressure on you,” you reassure him. “It’s stupid. So you’ve got a big brain, so what? There’s more to life than straight As and grad school. You should be happy whatever you do. Surely there’s a job where you can just read all day?”

He doesn’t answer, obviously over whatever he was going to interrupt you with. The wrinkles that were between his eyebrows have smoothed.

He’s smiling.

“What?”

“I just…I appreciate that.”

Now it’s your turn to look away.

“My medicine tamps down a lot of stuff.” His hands are still fidgety. “And I think whatever it is that helps you smell my feelings, that’s not as strong. It’s keeping me even-keeled. And I guess, that means you can’t smell me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I mean, I don’t know…it’s hard to not know how you’re feeling.”

“You could just ask?”

You make a face. “Cause you’re so good at communicating lately?”

He appears rightfully shamed which makes you feel better. “Sorry. Again. I was so happy you couldn’t, you know, smell me.”

“Why?”

“Cause they’re my feelings and I’d like to keep some of them to myself.” He flicks you on the forehead, making you growl. His grin grows a little more.

“You make it sound like I’m some sort of dastardly mustache-twirling villain who will use such knowledge for evil.”

“Maybe you are.’

You huff and stare at the snow. “How are you feeling?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. “Okay.”

“Why did you avoid me after the party? I don’t care that you got a boner. You’re a dude. I touched your dick. You get boners. No big deal.”

He drops his head back on the headrest. “It is a big deal.”

“How so?”

He takes a deep breath. “Because it’s you.”

You shiver. He lifts his head at your movement.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

“You just shivered.”

“I know.”

He watched you for several seconds. “Ask the next question.”

“The next question?”

“Why does it matter that it’s you?”

You look down at your hands, gripped tightly together, as though waiting for the worst news on the planet.

You’re nervous. You’re worried.

“Do you hate me?”

“What?” He laughs, surprised. “No. Not at all.”

“Then why would it matter if it was me?” You try not to sound whiny, but you are whiny and you want to explain that this is why smelling humans is so helpful. You don’t have to have cryptic conversations like this.

You feel his breath on your cheek before you realize he’s moved. That’s how worried you are, your impressive hearing and smelling are overrun by your concern.

You look at him. Seeing him so close, you grip your hands together harder; this time to not touch him. To not run one finger along his cheek and jaw.

“You’re really pretty.”

His eyes widen at your admission. “I…I didn’t know you thought that.”

You drop your gaze. “I think it a lot. You are a really good-looking human. I see other humans watch you all the times that we’re together.”

“But not weres?” Something in his voice hurts.

You turn completely now to face him. “Weres are stupid, okay? They look for dumb shit like dominant pheromones and fertility. And like muscles for days.”

“I’m not that.”

“You’re better than that,” you say, your hands wildly gesturing so he’ll believe you. “So much better. Like, you totally have muscles and you smell good, and I’m sure you have enough sperm to like beget a baseball team. Maybe a football team, but you’re smart, and funny, and so kind. You don’t care that I’m—“ You cut yourself off, embarrassed by your own rambling.

“Go on.” He’s so close, but he’s not touching you. You really want him to touch you, since you can’t figure out his scent and his feelings. Touching would help.

“You don’t care that I’m an alpha. That I’m supposed to be this and be that. You just treat me like you treated me when we were kids. Which can be annoying, but I’d rather that than the awe that I get from the guys, or just humans…” You place your hands on your steering wheel. “Whatever, okay? Just…don’t avoid me. If I get too wolf casual about sex and boners and whatever, just tell me.”

He doesn’t say anything. For long enough to make you worried. Again.

“Joon?”

He’s staring at you, looking like he’s trying to decipher any underlying messages in your words.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Avoiding me?”

He nods. “Avoiding you.” He carefully reaches out and rests his hand on your arm. “It’s kinda hard when your childhood bff is a beautiful alpha werewolf who has no filter or inhibitions about touching your dick.”

The atmosphere has changed. His scent has changed. You breathe it in and though it’s just a trace compared to before he started this medicine, you know what it is.

Arousal.

Your eyes dart to his crotch and you try not to grin at the evidence there.

“You are so crass.”

“You want me.”

He sighs like he finds you exasperating, but he’s grinning when you look up to his wonderful face. The dimples are teasing you, so you poke them with your fingers before letting yourself enjoy the velvet of his skin.

“You want me.”

Another sigh but he moves his head so his nose touches your palm. Like he’s breathing you in. “Of course I do. But you’re…”

You kiss him. Before he can continue with whatever well thought out argument that his big brain has conjured up. Just because he’s got a high IQ does not mean he’s smart all the time.

His hands seek out your waist before he’s pulling you over onto his lap. You hit your head on the ceiling of your car (normally not a problem, but perhaps for someone with Joon’s height, he feels crushed?) and you curse, but don’t let your mouth leave his.

He opens his mouth and lets you dive in while gently rubbing the top of your head as though to soothe where you bonked it.

You whimper at the taste of his tongue. Gods, he smells and tastes like a cold still night, when the stars are so vivid and you can see your breath every time you speak. His hands run up your back and down, one sliding under your shirt.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he mutters, leaving your lips for your neck. He groans and you realize that you are most definitely grinding down on his boner. Which is definitely a full fledged one now.

You break away, your breathing more like panting. His face is flushed, pink and delectable-looking. You lean to nip at that perfect jaw, especially where that muscle is.

He says your name softly.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Well, you are kinda—“ He looks at your hands and you see that your nails have grown, morphing into claws. And poked a few holes in his puffy jacket.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just really close to—“

“The full moon. I know,” he says, kissing you as though you didn’t ruin his outerwear. You pull your hands away and behind your back, willing the change away. “It’s okay.”

“I’m usually better than this.”

“Are you saying I make you lose control?”

You glare at him and his stupid smirk. “Do not get cocky on me, Kim Namjoon.”

You both look down at his crotch. He blushes, but you giggle.

“We’re a mess.”

“A bit.” He clears his throat, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “Maybe we can continue this after?”

“After?”

His hands practically warm your whole back. Did you ever realize his hands are that big?

Your brain and libido needs a moment. Or twenty.

“After the full moon.”

“Oh. I mean, yeah, of course, but that’s practically Christmas.” You lean forward, unconsciously creating friction and he groans, throwing his head back, but you are undeterred. You push his hair back. “That can be our Christmas present to each other.”

“You mean...sex?”

“I mean sex.” You kiss his embarrassed cheeks and then lips before easing off his lap and back into the driver's seat. You turn on the windshield wipers to clear away the snow. “I wanted to see the first snow with you.”

He’s looking at it too. “It’s kind of magical.”

“Like werewolves?”

He snorts. “I’m not calling you magical.”

You laugh and put the car into drive. “I’ll take you back to your dorm. It’s probably a good thing you got another ride.”

“Yeah?” HIs voice is still a little breathless, and strained. God, he’s so cute.

“Having you in the car alone for that long.” You wink at him. He shakes his head, grinning.

“Shameless.”

“I missed you.”

The sudden confession makes his smile drop, apology in his eyes.

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I just...you can’t not be a part of my life, Joon. You’re my pack.”

“But I’m not--”

“I made you part of it when we were five.”

His brow furrows. “We met when we were five.”

“Exactly.”

He’s smart so it doesn’t take long for him to understand. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his hand touch yours bashfully before retreating.

Sexy, smart, shy Kim Namjoon.

---

If you could plan it, it probably would have included a really nice dinner and maybe a cabin in the woods. But you’re a uni student and so is he, so romantic getaway is unlikely to ever be in the cards.

You wouldn’t have chosen a snowball fight either.

But here you are, having tackled Joon after he’s used those very impressive arm muscles to throw a snowball at the back of your head (direct hit), sitting on top of him, staring down at his beautiful face.

“It’s cold,” he whines.

“Man up.”

He makes a face at you, breathing heavily from exertion. He props himself up on his elbows. “I can feel the snow melting into my clothes.”

You shrug, not moving. “Tough. Shouldn’t have hit me with that last one.”

He sighs, about to say something else when you adjust your position and you both feel it.

“Shit.”

“It is after the full moon, Joonie.”

“I know. You think I don’t know the cycle? Even when you were gone for that semester abroad trip freshman year, I still thought of you every full moon.”

“You did?”

He pauses in his diatribe to see that your face has gone all sentimental. “I think about you a lot.”

He makes a sound like ‘oof’ when you hug him so tight, causing both of you to fall back into the snow.

“It’s so cold!”

“Don’t care.” You kiss his neck as you snuggle closer.

“You’re ridiculous.” He returns your hug, but starts to get up, half-carrying you. “Can we go inside now? Please?”

You reluctantly let your feet fall, finding purchase on the ground. He doesn’t really let go of you though, arm still around your shoulders.

“My parents are out.”

“Your parents can smell anything within a mile.” True, but annoying.

You snort as you both trudge into your empty house, undoing your boots and snow jackets in the mudroom. When he follows you into the kitchen (hot cocoa time), he leans against the counter as you pull milk out from the refrigerator.

“We never--” He cleared his throat.

You look over from the stove. “We never?”

“Talked about...well, us.”

“I could have sworn there was some talk about you wanting me.”

He flushes a deep red. “I mean, like what happens after. If you know, we do…”

“Oh my god, Kim Namjoon. Are you having a DTR with me?”

“I hate you,” he grumbles.

You laugh, making sure the stove is on before moving to him to kiss him. He allows it for a second before returning the affection, his big hands holding your head in place.

“I don’t want to fuck this up,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Me neither,” you reply. “I told you. You’re my pack.” You slip one hand under his thermal shirt, feeling the goosebumps your touch incites. He kisses your nose then forehead. “This isn’t some little crush.”

“Oh.”

You feel the panic in your gut, but you focus on his face. He hasn’t pulled away.

“Tell me now if it is for you.”

“No, of course not.” His hands tighten. “But I’m human. I know that--”

“Mom and Dad love you. My guys will love you once they finally meet you.” You rest your head on his chest. “We’ll have to be careful, cause you know, claws and teeth and such, but I want to--”

He kisses you quiet, moving you back into one of the counters. “You think I haven’t worried about it. Every time I’ve dreamt of you?”

“You’ve dreamt of me?”

He nods. “Since I was fifteen.” He doesn’t let you respond, but covers your mouth with his. You tug him closer, eager to feel all of him against you. He’s so solid.

Your brain shuts down. You’ve kissed a few guys before him. You’ve slept with a few guys before him. But none of them were Joon. The best friend who had seen you going through puberty (human or werewolf - puberty was awful for everyone), who helped you with your math word problems, who stuck by your side even when you had your first transformation two years earlier than expected.

Kissing him is both intensely hot and cozy warm. His nose and fingers are cold from the outside, but it feels good to your feverish skin. His hands skim your sides, the curves of your ears, the length of your neck.

“Are you purring?”

You smack his arm as he laughs, still kissing you. “I do not purr.”

“What do you call this then?” His mouth moves to your neck, and you do make a sound.

“Uhhh, a hum?”

He lifts his head, smiling widely at you. “Sounds like a purr.”

You glare at him. “You do not reference cats when talking to a wolf.”

His smirk grows, and you hit him again, with no malice (you’re aware sometimes you’re stronger than you realize).

“Joon.”

He laughs, leaning so his mouth is next to your ear. “So, I can’t say pussy?”

You snort, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m appalled at you. You said I can’t talk about your dick and now–”

He kisses your earlobe. “It was embarrassing.”

“This is embarrassing.”

You both look at each other for a few seconds.

“I mean, we could spray febreze after.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Another time. Another place.” He frames your face in his hands. “Christmas is tomorrow.”

“I know.” You nuzzle his palm, trying to gain his scent and give him yours. “There’s all this family stuff.”

“Can you sneak out?”

“Tomorrow?” Joon is not known for his sneakiness, or ability to keep secrets.

“Tomorrow night.”

You cock your head to the side, regarding him. “You?”

He looks affronted, but his hands are still cradling your face. He kisses you again. “I’ll meet you at 8.”

You go to argue, or perhaps knock some sense into him, but you hear your parents pull into your garage and the two of you separate. Fortunately the hot chocolate you mix covers any remaining smells that could tip off your parents.

–

He’s waiting for you when you arrive at the corner you two used to meet at when you went to school together. Before being a werewolf set you apart. As kids, the differences are minor and everyone is less worried about teeth growing and the like.

He’s bundled up, but offers you a mittened hand. You take it, not sure what to say.

This was your best friend. And he’s taking you somewhere for sex.

What a weird Christmas.

“So…any good lines today?” he asks casually.

“Huh?”

He squeezes your hand, though it’s hard to tell with those mittens. “Nervous?”

You look up at him, your eyes curious at what will be revealed under the layers of winter clothing. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him without a shirt. He got shy in high school with you. Never going swimming any more. Always going to nerd camps.

Then he started working out. But last summer, he’d done some internship (nerd again), so again, no swimming, no swim shorts. No half-naked Namjoon.

Maybe it was a good thing. Your feelings could have gotten more out of hand.

“A little.”

He stops walking, but you realize where he’s taking you.

“We going to Hobi’s house?”

“Out of town for the whole break.” He pats his pocket. “I’m house sitting and watering the plants.” He takes your other hand in his. “Why are you nervous? I know for a fact this isn’t your first time. You texted me in all caps that you’d gotten laid.”

Had you? Yeah, you totally had.

“It’s just…it’s us.”

He nods and then continues walking. “I’m nervous too.”

You both go quiet after that. It seems that without saying much more, you both know this is a big deal.

You both know this is more than just sex.

Hoseok (Namjoon’s best friend other than you) has a really nice house. In fact, you’re a bit worried about touching anything, even when Joon offers you a glass of water. You know the Jungs are human and probably won’t be able to tell that anyone has been here, but it still keeps you on edge.

“Joon,” you begin as you approach the upstairs bedroom. He turns you toward him and kisses you. As he pulls you into the room (it looks like a guest room which for some reason makes you feel less concerned), he starts trying to take off his coat and mittens. The coat catches on his wrists. He starts waving his arms behind him, trying to get the coat off and you just start laughing.

“I—I just…”

You hurry behind him and pull off his coat, and the mittens come with. You reach up, standing on the balls of your feet to also remove his beanie. His neck is hot when you cup your hand to draw his mouth to yours. He’s embarrassed. You’re both so ridiculous.

You like him so much.

He seems to get over his embarrassment pretty quickly, divesting you both of your layers until he’s just in boxers and you in your bra and underwear.

Kim Namjoon has been hella working out. You run your hand along his forearm to his biceps and shoulders, skipping your fingers along his collarbone and down the curves of his chest muscles.

“You stupid guy. You got even hotter.” You met his eyes. “How could you?”

He blushes. Even in the one lamplight that’s on, you can see his face redden.

“Please stop.”

You grin and take his hand, pulling him and both of you ending up on the bed. He hovers over you, hands pressed deep on the mattress.

“Is this okay?”

You nod, arms wrapping around those heavenly shoulders to have him close, to kiss. You might have been teasing him earlier, but you don’t think about teasing anymore. His kisses delve deeper, his body heating almost to the temperature of yours. His leg moves in between yours, pressing on where you ache.

You growl lowly. He lifts his head.

“Good or bad?”

“So good.”

He pushes up more with his leg, flexing and you whine.

“So, no cheesy lines?” he asks again. “Nothing about unwrapping the best Christmas present ever? Or goodwill toward one man…”

“Shut up.”

He’s laughing until you palm him over his boxers and then he chokes.

“Here’s to a big piece on earth?”

He groans at your bad line (you know that one was awful), before sliding his hand under you, undoing your bra.

“Impressive.”

“I’m not without skills.” He grumbled that, but is now staring at your chest like he’s really opened the best Christmas present. “Shit. I…wow…”

“You too.”

His eyes drag from your breasts to your face and his smile softens. “Hi.”

“Hi Joonie.”

He brushes his lips over yours, one finger tucking in the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down, his mouth trailing from yours to your chest, to your stomach. You shiver again.

“That’s why you tremble.”

“I’m not cold at all.” And your voice is just plain breathy.

He shoves down his boxers and once again, you both stare at each other as though adjusting to seeing the other in a much different light.

“Condom?”

He nods, moving away from you to grab said protection out of his jeans pocket. You sit up so you can take it from him, ripping it open and rolling it on. He shudders himself when you touch him. You run your hand up and down again and he lets out a short breath.

“Good?”

“So good” He takes your hand in his, removing it from his cock. His fingers lace with yours as he kneels between your legs. He leans back down, kissing you before adjusting your legs to cradle his hips. “You good?”

“I think–”

He meets your eyes.

“I think I more than like you.” You don’t know why you say it. You just know you have to. Having him keep checking in with you, treating you like you aren’t anyone different, but just his best friend who he happens to–

“I definitely more than like you,” he replies, tongue touching yours as he carefully slides in. You wince as your body accommodates him. “Okay?”

“Something something about a big Christmas package?”

He drops his head. “You can’t say shit like that. We’re–

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” You grinning, though it’s strained. He feels so good, looks so good, smells so good. Everything about him is wonderful. When he looks at you again, your heart thumps harder in your chest. “You can move.”

Move he does. At first slowly and carefully, but words get lost between the two of you as he moves faster, chasing his high, your high. His hand eases where you are connected, arousing you further with those skills of his. He whispers encouragements that you can’t really hear, but his voice urges you on and you fall, so hard. When your brain is less like mush, you hook your ankles together, pulling him closer, doing your best to make him break.

“Fuck, you’re strong,” he bites out.

“Sorry!” You ease your hold on him. He shakes his head, trying to kiss you, but it’s sloppy. You don’t mind.

“No, no, you feel so good,” he pants. “Don’t hold back.” His eyes find yours. “Just be you.”

Watching your best friend break is better than watching the first snowfall. Better than any rom-com or cheesy line.

He’s dead weight on top of you, which feels absolutely amazing.

“Joon?”

“Hmm?”

“Best Christmas ever.”

He pokes you in the side, but doesn’t move. And you’re plenty content to have him stay where he is.

---

© 2020-21 btsarmy9593: BTS belongs to BigHit and they are just inspiration. I am fully aware that my stories are not them, in any way. They are far better than any thing I could write. The rest is from my little brain. Please do not steal. Why would you do that?