#joon for slide...

[kooksbunnnn]

HOW WAS YOUR DAY: NAMJOON

Summary: Just namjoon fingering you in his studio as he asks you about your day.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: idol!Namjoon×reader. fingering, squirting, namjoons lap (it's a warning, yes), kissing.

Authors note: I want him. SO BAD. ___________________________________________

"I was uh..I was walking by her when I c-came and she g-gave me such looks-" you try talking as Namjoon’s fingers abuse your clit. He had you sat on his lap, your hands around his shoulders, your hips sat on his left thigh as he spread your legs slightly to fit his hand under your skirt.

"She did?" He asks, you nod whining. His hands work slowly as if he had all the time in the world.

You had visited him at his studio because you missed him. It had been days since you saw him, so you came bearing coffee and food. But as soon as you entered the building, the new recruit in his managing team gave you a dirty look.

You were his girlfriend for fucks sake!

"I wanted to smack her so bad, ohhh my-" you trail as he dips his fingers inside you to gather some wetness getting back to your clit again, rubbing it in faster more precise circles.

You gasp, squirming as he lazily sucks a hickey on your neck while making you see stars.

"So good joon fuck I love your fingers." He hums against your skin, squeezing your waist with his other hand resting against your back while his fingers tortured you back and forth from your climax.

"Did you eat something, love?" You nod, feeling the knot inside you, forming slowly and very gradually. His hands slow down his ministrations, and you whine as you feel your legs shake out of sensitivity.

"Joon-" you breathe out as he smiles proudly at the purple mark he gave you on your neck, marking you as his.

"What did you eat?" He asks with hooded eyes admiring the mark he left while you try to make phrases inside your dizzied head.

"I- some- ah fuck- I had a gimbap with my colleagues, mm-" You words stop with a hitch in your breath as he slides two fingers slowly inside you. You try holding his wrists, but then your hands end up clutching your hair because you feel so good.

"Colleagues, huh?" He says, curling the tip of his fingers slightly to tickle that spot.

"Oh shit right there!" Your head falls back as you feel that spot being rubbed in a way that makes your eyes roll.

"Was Mark there too?" You just gasp as his fingers rub your insides and his thumb rubs your clit from the outside. Your brain short circuiting at the amount of pleasure you're receiving.

You squirm in his hold as his other hand makes you stay still. His tongue licking around your earlobe while his fingers abused the little spongy spot inside you.

"I asked you something, love." his voice was so gentle yet firm, making your mind search for the question he asked. Your brain was too dizzy to think with his thick thighs underneath you along with the hard on he had, so you just moaned, clenching hard around his fingers.

He pulls his hand out and smacks your swollen cunt, shoving his fingers once again. Asking you again, silently.

Was he?

"I dont know, I dont know-" you repeat with a high-pitched whine, your voice echoing and bouncing against his studio walls. You're glad the studio was soundproof, or people might think Namjoon was killing someone in there.

He chuckles mocking your thoughtless face, "so dumb, my baby, look at you, my baby can't answer coz I fuck her open with my fingers huh? My perfect little cocksleeve." You clench hard as he makes you feel smaller by each syllable. You squirm in his hold, making him bite your skin underneath your ear.

"I'm close so close oh-so cl-so-" he chuckles as you babble dumbly, breathing heavily against your ears that it makes your mind wander to how hard he must be right now.

The moment your mind travels to his dick you miss it inside you, you want to feel him inside you, the stretch of his fingers making you miss the way his cock split you open 3 days ago.

3 fucking days.

You think you might die if you dont get fucked by him today.

Your eyes water as you feel your orgasm coming closer, his hard on pressing against the back of your thigh, making your mind swirl with dirty thoughts.

Your fucked out brain getting reminded of the way he pounds you against the mattress, the way he fucked you in his balcony 35 floor above the city. How he fucked you open with his cock in front of his mirror, fingers inside your mouth as he pumped himself dry inside you filling with his warm cum.

His warm cum. Oh god.

"Jesus, you're crushing my hand so hard." He says through his teeth as he feels your thighs tightening around his hand, your face buried in his chest.

He keeps you open to the cold air in the room while his warm fingers plunge deep inside you. Squelching so loudly you wanna hide of embarassment, but you're so close you think you'll go crazy.

When he fastens his pace, he pulls your legs apart by his other free hand, making you spread open for him on his lap. Your other leg now in his hold from under your knee, resting on the table in front of him.

"Oh god--" you breathe out as he picks up his pace, his stimulation on your clit and the spot inside you constant. You legs shake in his hold and your eyes start tearing up.

"Oh make me cum make me cum please? Please? Oh god please!" You mumble mindlessly, pleading him, requesting him, begging him to make you cum as he coos, his fingers never faltering. Your fingers clutch his hair desperately as you look into his eyes, begging, your eyebrows furrowed as he smiles almost mocking you.

Evil.

"Cum baby, cum whenever you want, make a mess, go on" he says, his breathe heaving in your ears. It's as if he had turned a switch inside you that made you arch your back in his hold. Your cunt squeezing around his fingers as your cum sprays all over his lap. He groans as he feels your walls pushing his fingers out, making him fill you up with his fingers again, making them squelch loudly.

He holds your hips chuckling darkly as you squirt all over his joggers, his fingers fucking you through your high but he needed more so he pulls his fingers out to rub your clit sloppily and you sob.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you feel your teeth clash as you breathe hard against him. Your body vibrates and thrashing in his hold as he growls against your lips.

"Yeah, good girl," he groans against your lips as you gasp, twitching.

His tongue plunges inside your mouth, and you squeal against his lips, your lips not even moving as you just gasp. Your eyes roll back, your hand clutching onto his neck desperately as his fingers rub your folds, making sure you spill everything you have inside you.

"Thats it thats it, my perfect girl." He coos against your lips, you breathe heavily, tears flowing down your eyes.

You whine, holding his wrists out of oversensitivity, smiling, feeling light-headed.

He smiles looking at you and teases your clit, flicking his index against it. Your body twitches as he does so, just to laugh at how pathetically your body squirms in sensitivity.

"Tch-tch-tch" he mocks you, grinning as your head falls back, his hand cupping your pussy making your eyes roll back. He squeezes, massaging your folds to calm you down.

"You did so good, my baby." He kisses your forehead, caressing your hair. "You okay?" He asks, his voice calming and deep. You nod tiredly.

"Good," he kisses your cheek, "because you're gonna do that again, but on my dick this time," he says, kissing your cheek again, tenderly.

Well, fuck.

___________________________________________

[purplemoon7]

Slow Mornings

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kim Namjoon is hopelessly in love with his wife, and mornings like this—warm, slow, and full of stolen kisses—are proof he never plans to stop showing it.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Namjoon x black!reader (married AU)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.1k

Warnings! FLUFF! nothing but pure fluff here, established relationship, husband!Namjoon, suggestive touching, mentions of nudity, sensual language, married domestic bliss

There is a warm, heavy weight on your thigh that can only mean one thing—Namjoon has thrown a leg over you in his sleep again.

It’s a familiar feeling by now, his long limbs sprawled across yours like he’s subconsciously trying to keep you from slipping away. His body is warm, and solid, the faint rise and fall of his chest pressed against your back as he breathes in deep, still lost in sleep.

The room is quiet, save for the occasional snore that leaves his lips and the distant hum of the world waking up outside. Sunlight filters through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the sheets, across his skin. It’s a beautiful sight, almost breathtakingly so.

Your eyes flutter open, vision still soft around the edges, and you let yourself just… exist in it for a moment. Let yourself feel the way his presence settles over you like a second blanket—heavy, grounding, familiar. Safe.

His hand is somewhere near your ribs, palm spread, fingers twitching lightly like he’s chasing something in a dream. You breathe in the scent of him—faint cologne clinging to his skin, something warm and musky and distinctly him—and smile sleepily into the pillow.

You try to shift just enough to stretch your legs, but his arm tightens immediately, anchoring you back down like he knows.

He stirs, frowning as he rolls over and reaches for you, searching for the comforting pressure of your body against his. A sleepy hum rumbles from his throat, low and husky, as he nuzzles closer. His hand slides over your hip and around your waist, pulling you close until your entire length is pressed to his, and there’s something so easy, so natural about the way you fit together.

He makes a soft sound of approval, nuzzling into the crook of your neck before his lips find their way to your jaw.

“Hmm,” you hum, rolling your head to the side to give him better access, letting him nuzzle and kiss his way down your neck, over your pulse point and lower, until his lips are grazing your shoulder.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, the lightest, laziest touch.

You smile, eyes still half-shut. “Mm. Barely.”

Namjoon lets out a breathy laugh and presses another kiss to your shoulder. “You’re warm,” he says, voice muffled. “I wanna stay like this forever.” His voice is so deep, he's practically purring in your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Me too,” you whisper, hand reaching behind to run over his thigh. “You’re like a sexy, clingy heater.”

“Sexy, clingy heater,” he repeats with a chuckle, voice rough. “Can I put that in my bio?”

You laugh quietly, body relaxing fully into his. “Only if you put ‘sleep cuddler of the year’ under your accolades.”

He grins against your skin, and then he’s moving—slow and lazy, but intentional. His hand slips lower, palm splayed flat against your stomach. He kisses your neck again, slower this time, lips parting just enough to let his breath trail over your skin before his tongue brushes lightly against the dip of your collarbone.

Your breath catches, feeling it poke you through the thin fabric of his boxers. “Joon…”

“Mm?” he answers, innocent, though his hand is already trailing lower.

“You were snoring two minutes ago.”

“You're warm,” he says again, like that explains everything. “And always soft in the morning. So soft. Can’t help it.”

You roll to face him, shifting until your thigh slots between his, ignoring the small groan that escapes him. His buzzcut is the first thing you see—dark, neat, and low against the light—and you reach up, fingers gliding gently over it. He closes his eyes at the touch, visibly melting into it.

“Still obsessed with it?” he asks quietly.

You nod. “Can’t stop touching it. Your head feels like a peach.”

He opens his eyes with a smirk. “I thought it was a kiwi last week.”

You grin. “That too. Depends on the day.”

Namjoon leans in and kisses you—soft, then deeper. His lips taste like morning and sleep, a little dry but familiar, like a song you never forget the words to. He kisses you slow, and you melt in the intimacy of being this close. This loved by him.

Your fingers dig into his skin, nails scratching him a little. His thumb strokes beneath the curve of your breast and you shiver, just a little, heart thudding under your ribs. You sigh into his mouth, and he swallows the sound like it’s the only thing he wants to live on today.

He kisses down again, over your chest, then lower, murmuring against your skin, “How is it possible you get softer every day?”

“You say that like I’m dough,” you whisper, laughing breathlessly.

He glances up. “You’re better than dough. You’re… you’re like a warm croissant. Flaky and golden and buttery—”

“Okay, stop,” you giggle, pushing at his shoulder. “You’re not allowed to make me laugh while you’re feeling me up.”

Namjoon bites back a grin, dimples flashing as he brushes a kiss between your breasts. “Fine. No more breakfast metaphors.”

The heat between you simmers, rising like slow waves. There’s no rush. Just soft touches and deeper kisses and a sense of being wrapped in something sacred.

It’s moments like this that remind you how much you love mornings with him. The way he clings to you, half-asleep and needy like he doesn’t know how to exist without touching you. The way his fingers trace lazy patterns against your skin, his body relaxed, vulnerable, safe.

He pulls back just enough to whisper “You feel so good,” against your skin, voice low, raspy.

You hum in response, letting your hand slide over his, fingers intertwining. “So do you.”

Namjoon sighs again, content, pressing his face into the crook of your neck to press a soft kiss. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“We don’t have to,” you tell him, looking down at him through your lashes. He looks good like this, slow and sleepy, like he belongs in this bed, in this moment, with you.

A lazy grin tugs at his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

A warmth that has nothing to do with body heat spreads through your chest.

This side of Namjoon—the sleepy, affectionate, utterly unguarded side—is something you never get tired of. When he’s awake and alert, he’s sharp, quick-witted, always thinking. But here, wrapped around you, he’s soft. Mellow. Like warm honey dripping off the edge of a spoon.

Then, without warning, he flips you onto your back with zero effort, his arm slipping under your waist as he settles half on top of you. You smile up at him as your body immediately molds to his, the way it always does. His weight is solid, grounding. Familiar.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough and deep.

“Hi.”

He lifts a hand, his wedding band catching the light—just for a second—fingers brushing against your cheek, brushing against your braids. His thumb strokes just below your eye, tracing the softness of your skin. There’s something so intimate about the way he looks at you—like you’re something rare, something to be studied and memorized.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask, voice quieter now.

Namjoon exhales a little laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.” His hand slides down to your jaw, tilting your face up slightly. “And because I can.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he kisses you again, slow and lingering—like he has all the time in the world to savor you. And maybe he does. The kiss is lazy, deepening only when you sigh against his mouth, your fingers curling into the sheets.

His hand slides down, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on your hip. His grip is firm but not demanding, his thumb stroking absent-minded circles into your skin. He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Can we stay like this all day?”

“As tempting as that sounds, you have things to do,” you remind him, even though you don’t really want to be the voice of reason.

Namjoon groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “Don’t care.” His lips graze your collarbone, slow and lazy. “Cancel my schedule. We can just stay in bed all day and cuddle.” His lips move over your shoulder and back up to your jaw. “We can make out all day if you want.”

“I'd like that,” you admit, laughing. His kisses leave a tingling sensation against your skin, and you don’t even hesitate when he pulls you closer.

He makes another sound, humming deep in his throat as his lips find their way back to yours. He’s the first one to break the kiss this time, and he pulls back with a soft whine that makes you chuckle against his mouth.

“You're gonna be late.” you tease him, voice breathy. You press your lips to the edge of his jaw, nibbling gently on the skin, loving the way his eyes fall shut at the sensation, brows furrowing slightly.

“Fuck that,” Namjoon says. His hands slide down your thighs, lifting your legs over his hips. His fingers are warm as they knead the skin of your thighs, making you shiver against him.

You're the one to finally pull away, though it takes everything in you to do it. You press one last kiss to his lips, then his cheek, then that warm patch just beneath his jaw that always makes him hum.

“I should go start breakfast,” you whisper, dragging the sheets down as you sit up, legs stretching out into the early sunlight.

The cool air hits your bare skin, goosebumps rising instantly. You feel Namjoon’s gaze on you before you even glance back—and sure enough, when you do, he’s already propped on one elbow, eyes tracing every curve like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” he says, voice still gravelly from sleep.

You snort. “Baby, no you weren’t.”

“Yes I was.”

“No you weren’t,” you say again, laughing now as you stand and reach for your robe at the foot of the bed. “You can’t cook, Joon.”

“Technically, I can cook,” he says, watching you move across the room like he’s in a trance. “I just don’t… thrive.”

“You set off the smoke alarm making toast.”

“It was complex toast!” he argues, flopping back on the bed with a groan. “There were layers.”

You give him a look as you slip into the robe, tying it loosely at your waist. “There were burnt crumbs all over the kitchen.”

He grins, big and unbothered, arms behind his head like he’s proud of himself. “Still ate it.”

“Yeah, and I had to pretend I liked it.”

Namjoon watches you from under the tousled mess of sheets, all bare skin and warm morning light. “I don’t care what anyone says. I make amazing cereal.”

“Oh, wow. You’re so talented,” you tease, walking toward the bed to grab your phone off the nightstand. Just as you lean over, reaching for it, there’s a sharp smack against your bare ass—loud, unapologetic, echoing off the bedroom walls.

You yelp, startled, and whip around, phone still in hand. “Namjoon!”

He’s grinning already, no shame whatsoever, dimples deep and smug. “What?” he says, eyes hooded and voice thick with sleep. “Just admiring the view. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You rub the spot he slapped, half-laughing, half-scandalized. “You're lucky I love you.”

Namjoon props himself up on his elbows, completely unbothered, eyes trailing after you like you’re the last good thing left on earth. “God, look at you,” he murmurs, still sounding a little dazed. “How are you real?”

You roll your eyes, “You say that like I didn’t drool on your arm last night.”

“Doesn’t matter. Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He shifts onto his back, arms folded under his head like he’s admiring the ceiling but really, he’s watching your robe-clad figure. “You could roll outta bed with your bonnet half-off and toothpaste on your chin and I’d still be in love with you.”

You shake your head, cheeks warm. “You’re just horny.”

“I’m married and in love,” he corrects, that crooked smile pulling at his lips. “Horny is just a bonus.”

You shoot him a warning look as you pad toward the door. “Behave.”

“Never,” he calls after you.

You disappear down the hall to the kitchen, the soft shuffle of your slippers fading, but he doesn’t stop watching until you’re completely out of view. He lets his head fall back onto the pillow, that smile still tugging at his mouth, a little dazed, a little gone.

— Moon ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

[milatiny-xx]

promise | k.ys

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader summary: your childhood best friend accidentally admits that he's been secretly in love with you for many years and just recently got over it. at least, he thinks so. you want to put that theory to the test. warnings: best friends to loversss, mutual pining, fluff, make out!! make out!!, fade to black!! wc: 2.1k a/n: yeosang's biceps. send post. x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

You giggle as you throw back another shot of soju, wincing when you put the glass down.

"Ach, this stuff is terrible," you whine. "Next time, I'll buy the booze."

Yeosang laughs, placing the bottle back on the coffee table.

"Be my guest," he replies. "That one was expensive."

You're both sitting on the floor with a box of half-eaten pizza beside you and a mostly empty bottle of soju. Having been best friends since childhood, you and Yeosang try to meet up at least once every two weeks to hang out. You order food, get drinks, and watch a terrible drama neither of you have seen before. You have to give Sangie a lot of credit—despite his crazy busy schedule with ATEEZ, he always shows up to your friend dates and never, ever cancels.

"What are you complaining about? Surely, you can afford it."

"Ah, right. Because I'm a big time idol."

You nod, pursing your lips at him to say duh.

"Yeah, exactly. Even though you don't act like it."

He reaches for the bottle to pour you both another drink.

"What do you mean?"

"You're sitting here with me devouring greasy pizza and throwing back liquor while we watch one of the most horrendous movies I've ever seen in my life. It's just not how I imagine idols acting."

He hums in acknowledgement. His eyes slide from side to side as if he were looking for spies before he leans in toward you. You raise your eyebrows but follow his lead.

"You do know we're still humans, right?" he says, voice low. You scoff, playfully slapping his arm. "Besides, I would never give up this time with you."

Your heart lurches, his sweet words dripping like honey. On the one hand you love when he says things like that to you—it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, like you're special to him. On the other hand, it's usually followed with the most intense emotional pain you've ever experienced when you remember that he's saying it to you as a friend.

"Give me that," you gesture to the soju. "And tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"I don't know. Something personal, something secret, something nobody else knows. Here, I'll go first. Ummmm," you study the ceiling as you think. "Ah, I know! When we were in third grade and that stapler disappeared from Mr. Wan's desk, Ha-joon got in trouble for it. But it was really me, and I let him take the blame because I didn't want them to call my mom."

Yeosang's mouth drops open, amusement flooding across his handsome face. He laughs, covering his mouth with his hand—an adorable habit that you've noticed he has.

"Ha-joon wasn't allowed to go to recess for three months after that. How can you live with yourself?"

You shrug, slightly embarrassed.

"It's not easy. Your turn."

He hums to himself as he thinks. His eyes catch yours for a fleeting second, and you can tell that he's got an idea.

"Well...there's one thing I can think of."

You tilt your head, interest piqued.

"Yeah? What's that?"

Yeosang's eyes sparkle. A sweet grin spreads across his face as he drops his head sheepishly. He chuckles, a deep rumbling noise that raises goosebumps on your arms. You can't help but giggle.

"What?" you ask, playfully smacking his arm. "What are you laughing about?"

He shakes his head, his long bangs falling into his eyes. Your heart flutters as you appreciate how gorgeous he is. A slight pink flush spreads across his sharp cheekbones.

"It's...ahh, no, it's too embarrassing."

"Oh no. No, you can't do that, Sangie. Now you have to tell me."

He hesitates for another moment. You bend forward to lean your head on his shoulder and wrap your hands around his bicep. Ignoring the sensation of your stomach flipping, you peer up at him with your best puppy dog eyes.

"Pleaaaaaase," you whine. "Tell meeee."

He laughs again and drops his head toward you.

"You're gonna think I'm pathetic, but I sort of...well, I used to sort of be in love with you a little."

You cackle, assuming he's playing a joke on you.

"Yeah...right."

"No, I'm serious."

You quirk an eyebrow.

"Mhm, this coming from the same boy who refused to kiss me when I asked him to on the playground. You remember, don't you?"

His eyes go wide, and he points accusingly at you.

"You mean when you assaulted me?"

You gasp, shrieking and grabbing onto his hand.

"I did not! I did not assault you. We were playing tag, and you got me out. And I was sooo mad. I hugged you tight and said I wouldn't let you go until you made up for it by giving me a kiss."

"Yeah...and then you physically grabbed my face and made me do it."

"You still did it!"

"Of course I did it. I wanted to kiss you, I was just embarrassed."

You shake your head, folding your arms over your chest to fake pout. A few moments of comfortable silence pass, during which you decide to poke the bear a little more.

"I don't appreciate you making fun of me, though," you say. "I thought you had something serious to share."

He looks at you, smile dropping.

"Oh, I am serious."

Your grin falters, and you sit up straighter.

"What?"

"I wasn't joking, Y/N. I was being serious. I think I was sort of in love with you. For a long time, actually."

You can't help yourself—a laugh slips from your lips. A second after, you gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. You can feel burning spreading through your face and neck.

"See! I knew you would laugh! This is why I didn't wanna tell you."

"That's because it's ridiculous," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince him or yourself.

"Well, don't even worry about it," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm not anymore, so we're all good."

Your heart drops. Why did you say that? Why did you make fun of him? He gave you the absolute perfect opportunity to tell him how you really feel, how you've really felt all these years. And you absolutely threw it away like trash. Then again, he just admitted he's not in love with you anymore...you wonder what happened to change his mind. Maybe it's for the best that you don't say anything.

"Why would you be in love with me, anyway?" you reply. "I'm just a regular person."

"What? What do you mean? Why wouldn't I? It makes perfect sense when you think about it."

"How so?"

"We've been friends for so many years. We understand each other better than anyone. We make each other laugh. Besides that, you're kind and funny and smart. And, of course, you're beautiful."

Your heart is pounding in your chest now. Hearing him call you all of those wonderful things and the way he thinks of you, how much you mean to him—you've been dreaming of hearing that for years. But you want him to mean it. You need him to mean it.

"Oh...I guess it does kind of make sense."

The corner of Yeosang's mouth quirks up but flattens back down a moment later. You both drop your heads and silence settles between you. The tension and awkwardness grow with every passing second. You gulp and sneak a peek at him. He's absentmindedly playing with his fingers. The veins in his hands flex with every movement, and your stomach churns in response.

"A you sure?" you blurt, pasting a mischievous smirk on your face.

"Hm?"

"Are you absolutely, positively sure that you're over me?"

He looks at you, eyes widened. He hesitates for a moment, his gaze searching yours.

"Yeah, I-I think so."

"Hmmm, I'm not convinced. Maybe we should...I don't know...test it?"

Yeosang straightens, tossing his head to shake his hair from his eyes. His stare is glued to you.

"How would we do that?"

"Oh, I have an idea."

Your heart races as you position yourself across from him. You sit on your knees, your gaze flicking between Yeosang's eyes and lips. You start to shift forward, bracing yourself by putting your hands on his thighs. His chest rises and falls rapidly. Gulping, you tilt your head.

You pause right in front of him, your eyes rolling to the side to meet his. Your breath shakes. Under the soft glow of the lamp, you can see that his eyes are dilated. You drop your stare down to his parted lips and lean forward slowly.

Yeosang remains still as a statue when you press your mouth to his. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, the muffled sound of your racing heart echoing in your ears. When you pull back, your gaze returns to his. He holds your stare for a moment and then it all moves so fast.

His eyes drop to your lips, his hand slides across your neck and onto the back of your head, and the next thing you know, he's pulling your mouth to him.

He kisses you. Hard.

Your fingers dig into his strong thighs as you teeter forward. He angles his head to reach you deeper, his lips slipping between yours over and over and over again. Carried away by the moment, you swipe your tongue over his lower lip. He chuckles into your mouth, the sound low and gravelly. Goosebumps raise on your skin. He opens his mouth for you, and his free hand wraps around your arm.

You yelp when he jerks you forward. Your chest hits his with a thud. His hands are quick to curve around the backs of your thighs, maneuvering you onto his lap. Now straddling him, you wrap your greedy little fingers around his biceps.

He tilts his head back, giving you a different angle to taste him. You drop your hips, sitting yourself on top of his body. His fingertips dig into your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your ass.

You slide your hands under the hem of his shirt, frantically tugging it upward. He lifts his arms, and you pull it off. You bite your lip at the sight of him, skin smooth and muscled. Your hands move to his body like a magnet, and you whimper as you run your touch over his chest and stomach.

His lips attach to your jaw, trailing down to your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Your head falls back, mouth dropping open shamelessly. One of his hands slides onto your back to support you while he attacks your throat. His tongue licks stripes over your skin. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, shoving it aside to reveal part of your shoulder. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks on the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. You can't help your hips as they shift on him. He grunts, his lips slipping from your neck.

Your eyes flash open, meeting his immediately. His chest heaves as he looks up at you, eyes blown wide.

"I thought I was over this—over you,” Yeosang says, voice rasped. He smirks. "But I'm not."

He surges forward, flipping you so that you're on your back on the floor with him on top of you. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist to draw him closer. He responds by resuming his work on your neck.

You obediently tilt your head to the side to give him unrestricted access to your skin. Your touch snakes onto his back, fingertips tracing the chords of his muscles as his body expertly shifts above you. One of his hands slips onto the outside of your thigh, holding your leg against his hip.

"I'm in love with you, too," you blurt, out of breath. "I think I've always loved you. When I made you kiss me on the playground...since then. Every hour of every day."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating with heat against your neck.

"The kiss was that good, huh?"

You giggle, punching his arm, but inhale sharply when he catches your skin between his teeth. Your palms greedily slide over his skin in response.

"You've gotten a little better since then," you say teasingly. "And bigger."

He laughs again, freeing your neck. He braces himself on one arm as he looks down at you. You squirm underneath him as his glazed-over eyes size you up.

"Is this real?" he mutters.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I've dreamed about this for years, wondering what it would feel like."

"What what would feel like?"

"Loving you fully. Having you love me back. It doesn't feel possible."

Your heart aches, swelling with affection. You reach up to cup his cheek, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"It's real, Sangie. From now on, as long as you love me, I'll love you back. I promise. Do you promise, too?"

You hold your hand out, pinky outstretched. He chuckles but hooks his finger in yours. You curl your digits together, interlocking them firmly.

"Promise."

taglist: //

[sixgunslvt]

To Here Knows When

Son Chaeyoung x OC

Tags: incest (cousins), forbidden love, power dynamics, age gap (noona/dongsaeng), obsession, possessiveness, emotional, rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, marking (hickeys/biting), semi-public sex, teasing, dirty talk, possessive sex, worship, aftercare

Word count: 6668

The house hummed with that particular brand of Korean family chaos that turns oxygen into kimchi fumes. I leaned against the yellowed refrigerator, phone burning a hole in my palm as another off-key "Nae sarang~" from the living room karaoke machine rattled the framed embroidery of mountainside temples. Through the sliding door's rice paper panels, silhouettes of aunties snapped mahjong tiles like gunshots, their laughter sharpening to needles whenever someone's pae clattered to the floor.

My thumb scrolled Instagram reels of strangers' beach vacations - all that blue water and sunlight like a rebuke to this room's sticky reality. No one here under forty except Minjae's hellspawn twins currently drawing dicks on the hanji wallpaper with bulgogi sauce. The air conditioner wheezed 1997-era coolness through its rusted vents, doing nothing against the July heat or the sweat pooling where my dress shirt stuck to the small of my back.

Then the front door groaned open.

Chaeyoung arrived like a distortion pedal cutting through elevator music. Her chunky Mary Janes - same pair she'd worn to sneak me into that underground club when I was sixteen - kicked through the galaxy of discarded soju bottle caps littering the entryway. The aunties' mahjong clatter stuttered as she passed, their disapproval clinging to her like the cigarette smoke wafting from her cropped leather jacket.

I knew that jacket. Knew how it smelled of Nag Champa and the Daiso parking lot where she'd first played me Loveless on her dented MP3 player, our shared earbuds hissing static as Kevin Shields' wall of sound drowned out the cicadas. Tonight, it gaped to reveal a slip dress the color of TV static, riding up her thighs as she leaned against Uncle Joon's prized karaoke machine - the one he'd retrofitted with purple LED strips that made everyone look vaguely cadaverous.

Her eyes found mine through the haze of galbi smoke.

"Yah, jagiya," she drawled, popping the cap off a Hite with her lighter. The sound echoed like a gun cock. "You gonna keep pretending to text?”

Chaeyoung’s laugh tasted like stolen soju and the menthol cigarettes she’d smoked since time immemorial. Seven years my senior, though she wore those years like her leather jacket - slouching off one shoulder, all dangerous drape. She’d been my babysitter back when Busan still had video stores, back when her idea of childcare meant letting me watch R-rated Hong Kong flicks while she practiced winged eyeliner in my mother’s compact.

“Yah, dongsaeng.” Her gaze raked over me like the broken AC unit still rattling in the corner, appraising the stretch of dress shirt across shoulders that had finally outgrown the scoliosis brace. The flush creeping up her neck matched the neon signs bleeding through rice paper windows. “Should’ve kept your baby photos. Nobody warned me diaper duty came with this…” Her lighter clicked open, shut, open. “Glow-up.”

The karaoke machine chose that moment to vomit out Uncle Minho’s rendition of Hotel California, his “warm smell of colitas” curdling into something closer to a sea lion’s mating call. Mahjong tiles clattered like disapproving teeth as Auntie Soojin side-eyed Chaeyoung’s thigh-high stockings, the ones that made her legs look like ink strokes from one of Grandpa’s forbidden manga.

“Noona—” I started, but she was already plucking a half-finished bottle of Chamisul from the recycling bin. Her movements carried the same dangerous grace as when she’d taught me to shoplift lip gloss from the Lotte Department Store, back when her wrists were still scabbed from guitar strings instead of stick-and-poke tattoos.

Her laugh curled around me like the smoke from the galbi grill downstairs. “Remember when you’d hide under my skirt during thunderstorms? Crying until I let you hold my lighter?” The bottle cap rolled across linoleum patterned with thirty years of kimchi spills. “Now look at you. All…” Her tongue swiped a pearl of soju from her Cupid’s bow. “Broad.”

The room tilted. Or maybe that was just the floor buckling under generations of layered ondol heating. Her perfume - still that same Daiso body spray layered with menthol cigarettes - dragged me back to sleepless nights after she’d babysat. How her scent would linger on the couch cushions like a ghost, how I’d press my face into the indent she left and imagine it was her leather jacket wrapped around me instead of my Star Wars blanket.

“You missed last Chuseok,” I managed, thumb worrying the cracked screen of my phone. The Instagram reel still playing showed some Australian influencer diving into neon-lit waves, the exact shade of Chaeyoung’s hair before she’d shaved the left side.

Her nails - chipped black polish, same as always - tapped a staccato rhythm against the soju bottle. “Had better offers.” The look she gave me could’ve melted the ice cubes slowly dying in Auntie Hyun’s fruit punch. “Though if I’d known you were gonna sprout up like a damn Kdrama oppa…”

The twins chose that moment to streak past, their bulgogi-stained fingers now smearing what looked suspiciously like Auntie Jung’s Lancôme foundation across the sliding doors. Chaeyoung’s laugh followed them, low and throaty, the same laugh that used to rattle through my bedroom walls when she’d sneak boys in through the fire escape.

“Still hate kids?” She leaned back against the fridge still plastered with my middle school taekwondo certificates. The motion hiked her slip dress up to reveal the rose tattoo peeking above her stocking - same rose she’d drawn on my math homework when she was supposed to be tutoring me.

“Hate’s a strong word.” My voice came out strangled. The AC chose that moment to cough out a gust of air that sent her bangs fluttering, revealing the scar above her eyebrow from when we’d both tried (and failed) to skateboard down Nampo-dong’s hill.

Her pinky brushed mine as she reached for a paper napkin. “Could’ve fooled me.” The napkin tore between her fingers, becoming a sad origami crane mid-flight. “You used to beg me for piggyback rides. Now you won’t even look at me.”

The accusation hung there, sharp as the scissors she’d used to cut my hair before picture day. I could still feel the phantom weight of her against my back, smell the strawberry gum she’d pop while carrying me past the 7-Eleven where she’d eventually buy her first pack of Dunhills.

“You’re the one who moved to Seoul.” The words tasted bitter, like the dregs of coffee left in Halmeoni’s cup.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re the one who stopped answering my texts.” The karaoke machine whined into silence, leaving only the wet slap of Auntie Minjun making kimchi pancakes in the adjacent room.

When she stepped closer, the platform soles of her Mary Janes put us eye-to-eye for the first time in seven years. Her breath smelled like citrus soju and the menthol lozenges she’d started stealing after quitting vocals for her band. “Guess some things change, huh?”

Her thumb swiped sweat from my temple. The contact burned like the time she’d taught me to light firecrackers, back when sparklers still seemed magical instead of just another way to burn down to nothing.

The music and laughter faded into static as she stepped closer, her perfume—saltwater and something addictive—mixing with the sharp tang of alcohol. “Remember that summer I house-sat for your parents?” She traced the collar of my shirt with a chipped black nail. “You’d linger outside the bathroom when I showered. Left fingerprints on the fogged glass.” Her laugh was low, dangerous. “And July 12th? When my robe slipped?”

My throat tightened. That specific date seared into me—the way terrycloth had slid off her shoulder, the wet curl of hair stuck to her neck. She’d turned just enough to smirk at the doorframe where I’d frozen, thirteen and trembling.

“You knew?”

“You stopped breathing when I unhooked my bra through the gap in the door.” Her finger tapped my sternum. “Stupid boy. Your shadow stretched right across the tiles.”

I swallowed. “Fuck. All this time—”

“All this time,” she echoed, thumb brushing my bottom lip. Her gaze dropped to my hand. “You’d bite your knuckles to stay quiet.” She picked up my hand, tracing a line on my knuckles. “Left marks from here—up to here.”

The confession shuddered through me. Her scent—vanilla and that menthol cigarettes phase she’d sworn she’d quit—flooded my skull. My back hit the fridge door, magnets digging into my shoulder blades as she leaned in.

“You think I didn’t feel you watching?” Her knee nudged between my thighs. “How your eyes crawled over me when I bent to pick up your toy cars? How you’d pretend to sleep just to catch me changing?”

Auntie Soo’s shriek-laugh sliced through the room. Chaeyoung didn’t flinch.

“Every. Single. Time.” Her hips pinned mine, leather creaking. “Your little hitched breaths? The way you’d sprint to the bathroom after?” She pressed closer, mouth grazing my ear. “I’d lie awake soaked imagining your face if I ever…”

The karaoke machine screeched feedback. Some uncle butchering November Rain.

I gripped her waist, fabric slippery under my palms. “Why now?”

Her teeth caught my earlobe—sharp, fleeting pain. “Because back then?” Her breath scalded my neck. “I wanted to ruin you so bad.” A hand slid down my stomach. “But rules, right?”

Her fingers found my belt.

The fridge hummed against my spine. Down the hall, Minjae’s twins shrieked about stolen tteok. Chaeyoung’s thumb hooked into my waistband.

“Rules change,” I rasped.

Her laugh vibrated against my throat. “You changed.”

Her fingers trailed down to my waistband, pressing just enough to make me gasp. “Tell me, Iain…do you still think about those nights?” Her eyes burned with mischief—and something darker. “Because I know I do.”

I glanced toward the living room, where relatives obliviously massacred lyrics. “Fuck, Noona…we shouldn’t—” The lie died in my throat as her fingers teased my zipper.

Her perfume. The press of her breasts against my arm. Seven years of stolen glances and cold showers after she’d left.

My voice roughened to a growl. “You know I still dream about you. You’re there, just out of reach. And you keep getting farther away.”

Chaeyoung’s breath hitched, her fingers pausing above the bulge in my jeans. “Mmm…so that’s why you avoided me at family dinners.” She pressed flush against me, her free hand tangling in my hair to yank my face to hers. “Let me make those dreams real, baby,” she purred, lips brushing mine in a ghost of a kiss. “I’ll show you exactly how far I can reach.” Her hips ground against mine, heat searing through her dress.

An Auntie’s laughter echoed nearby, but Chaeyoung only smirked. “We’ve got time before anyone notices…” Her tongue flicked my neck. “Unless you want me to stop?” The challenge in her voice dared me to refuse.

My fingers tightened around her wrist, thumb pressed to her racing pulse. My other hand slid down her back, gripping the curve of her spine as I leaned into her ear. “You think I’d risk Auntie Kim catching us? Fuck no.” A low chuckle. “Your old room’s still here, right?”

She shivered, pupils blown. "Second floor, last door on the left." She dragged her nails down my chest, leaving white trails that burned. "But you'll have to be quiet...unless you want the whole family to hear how badly their good little boy fucks his Noona."

With that, she spun away, hips swaying as she headed for the stairs. Over her shoulder, she threw a smoldering look. “Coming, baby? Or do I have to drag you up myself?”

I’d barely taken two steps when Auntie Kim materialized, her talon-like grip snagging my elbow. “Iain-ah! Strong arms—” she barked, already steering me toward the balcony where a ceramic kimchi fridge hunched like a curse. “Help your halmeoni move this before your uncle breaks his hip again.”

Chaeyoung paused halfway up the staircase, biting back a laugh as I shot her a desperate look. Her mouth formed a silent Tick-tock before she vanished into the shadows.

The fridge weighed as much as my regrets. Halmeoni supervised from her plastic lawn chair, thwacking my calf with her fan whenever I adjusted my grip. “Faster! You think I’ll die waiting?” Auntie Kim lamented the state of my “office-worker shoulders” loud enough for the cousins grilling bulgogi to hear. Sweat slithered down my neck, the clock in my head screaming as Chaeyoung’s perfume faded under the assault of fermented cabbage.

When they finally released me, I dodged Uncle Minsoo’s sloppy attempt to arm-wrestle and nearly tripped over the twins building a soju bottle cap pyramid. The third step still groaned like a tortured animal, but the hallway was all nicotine shadows and the muffled buzz of family chaos below.

Her door stood cracked open, leaking cigarette smoke and the blown-out guitars of MBV’s To Here Knows When— a wall of distortion so thick it vaporized the laughter downstairs. She’d swapped the overhead light for a salt lamp that dyed everything fever-red, same incense stick from the Daiso days smoldering in her IKEA ashtray.

She lounged on the bed like she owned me, cigarette dangling from her lips as she scrolled her phone. The leather jacket lay discarded now, her slip dress hiking higher as she arched to stub out the smoke. “Took you long enough,” she purred, eyes raking over the tent in my jeans. “What’d they make you do? Haul bodies for the family grave?”

I didn’t answer. Three strides and I had her wrist pinned above her head, my knee slotting between her thighs as the guitar feedback swelled. She gasped, but her smirk stayed razor-sharp. “Someone’s impatient—”

I kicked the door shut, already unbuckling my belt. “Shut up, Noona.”

Chaeyoung’s lips curled into a wicked grin as she watched you unbuckle your belt, her legs parting slightly on the bed. “Make me,” she challenged, voice dripping with defiance as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away to reveal her perfect, perky tits.

She leaned back on her elbows, arching her back to push her chest out. “Come on, baby…show me how much you’ve missed me.” Her free hand trailed down her stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her panties. “Or do I have to do everything myself?”

The air between you crackled with tension, the only sounds your ragged breathing and the distant muffled karaoke from downstairs.

“Remember when you used to call me ‘baby boy’? Fuck, Noona…say it again. Just like when I was that dumb kid sneaking glances at you changing.”

Chaeyoung’s breath hitched as she saw the raw hunger in your eyes, her fingers pausing just above her soaked panties. “Mmm…baby boy,” she cooed, voice dripping with honey and sin as she spread her legs wider. “You always were my favorite little pervert.”

She hooked her fingers into her panties, sliding them down agonizingly slow. “Look how big you got for me…” Her tongue swiped over her lips as she took in the thick outline of your cock straining against your boxers. “Bet you dreamed about this, huh? Your dirty Noona touching herself just for you?”

Her fingers finally dipped between her folds with a lewd, wet sound. “Fuck…baby boy, you wanna taste?” She held up glistening fingers, eyes dark with lust. “Or do you need me to teach you how to eat pussy first?”

“Teach me, Noona.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes flashed with predatory delight as she crooked her glistening fingers at you. “Come here, baby boy,” she purred, spreading her legs obscenely wide as you crawled onto the bed between them.

Her hand fisted in your hair, yanking your face down to her dripping pussy. “Lick slow first,” she ordered, grinding her hips up against your mouth. “Flat tongue, just like you’re tasting your favorite ice cream—fuck!” Her thighs clamped around your ears as you obeyed, her back arching off the bed.

She was so fucking wet her juices smeared across your chin. “Good boy…now suck my clit like you’re trying to get the last drop through a straw—YES!” Her hips jerked violently as you swirled your tongue exactly how she taught you, her moans music to your ears.

Tugging your hair harder, she forced you to look up at her. “Remember this always belongs to you, baby boy,” she panted, slamming your face back down. “Now make your Noona cum.”

You pulled Chaeyoung flush against you, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other pressed possessively against the small of her back. Our foreheads touched as you spoke, voice rough with years of pent-up longing:

“Every girl I dated smelled wrong. Felt wrong.” Your thumb traced her jawline. “Because they weren’t you, Noona. This fucking obsession—” You ground your hard cock against her thigh to emphasize the point. “—ruined me for anyone else.”

Your breaths mixed, her perfume drowning your senses like it always had. Seven years of jerking off to her memory, and now she was here, real, pressed against you. “You’ve always owned me.”

Chaeyoung’s breath caught as your words sank in, her nails digging into your shoulders. “Fuck…all those times I let you watch,” she panted, rolling her hips against your throbbing cock. “I knew you’d be perfect for me.”

She crashed her lips against yours in a searing kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. “My sweet, ruined baby boy,” she murmured against your mouth, her hands frantically pushing down your boxers. “Let Noona show you exactly what you’ve been missing—”

Her eyes went wide as your thick cock sprang free, her fingers wrapping around the base. “Jesus…you really did grow up,” she whimpered, stroking you slowly. “Gonna fuck me so good your aunties hear how much I scream?”

Without waiting for an answer, she lined you up with her dripping entrance, her breath hot in your ear. “Take what’s yours, Iain.” And with one sharp roll of her hips, she sheathed you to the hilt, her tight walls fluttering around you. “Fuuuck—yes—just like that!”

You groaned as Noona sank onto you, her tight heat swallowing every inch—fuck, she felt even better than you’d dreamed.

“That’s it, Noona…ride your baby boy’s cock just like you promised.” Your hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, guiding her rhythm as she bounced. “All those years pretending not to notice me staring…how long have you wanted this? Did you groom that baby boy just for this, Noona?”

Her moans were muffled against your neck, her nails digging into your chest as she ground deeper. “Mine.”

Chaeyoung’s entire body shuddered as your words hit her, her pussy clenching around you in a vice-like grip. “Fuck—yes!” she gasped, her nails raking down your chest as she rode you harder. “Every time I let you peek…every time I bent over just a little too far—”

Her breath came in ragged pants as she ground down onto you, her clit rubbing against your pelvis with each bounce. “I dreamed about this cock!” she cried out, her walls fluttering wildly around you. “Wanted my baby boy to break me with it—just like this!”

Her back arched as she suddenly screamed your name, her pussy drenching your thighs in her cum. “Iain—fuck! Don’t stop—breed your Noona!” Her hips jerked erratically, milking your cock as she sobbed through the intensity. “M-make me yours!”

“Hey Noona,” your voice rough as her hips ground down on you, “remember those lace panties you ‘forgot’ in my room when I was 15?” Your grip tightened on her waist, pulling her deeper onto you. “Funny how they always ended up under my pillow… You planning this back then, or just fucking with me?”

Chaeyoung’s eyes rolled back as you thrust up into her, her slick walls pulsing around your cock at the memory. “Mmm…both,” she purred, riding you with renewed hunger. “Knew you’d jerk off to them…” Her nails raked down your chest as she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear.

“Fantasized about walking in on you,” she admitted with a sinful grind of her hips. “Catching my baby boy with his dick in hand…moaning for his Noona…” Her pussy clenched around you as she whimpered. “Should’ve punished you properly back then—fuck!—like this!”

She suddenly slammed down, taking you balls-deep with a cry. “But now you get to ruin me instead,” she panted, her tits bouncing with every frantic movement. “Gonna fill me up like you dreamed, baby boy?” Her voice was pure temptation as she milked your cock. “Show me how bad you wanted me…”

“Kiss me, Noona. Give me that tender incest kiss you’ve always dreamt about.”

Chaeyoung’s breath hitched as she crashed her lips against yours in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss—tongue sliding against yours with decades of pent-up longing. “Mmm…just like this,” she moaned into your mouth, her hips rolling in slow, sinful circles as she ground your cock deep inside her.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, yanking you closer as she whimpered. “Fuck…baby boy kisses even better than I dreamed,” she panted between sloppy, incestuous kisses. “All those nights imagining your mouth—ah!—needed this so bad…”

Her pussy fluttered around you as she suddenly broke the kiss with a gasp, her forehead resting against yours. “Gonna cum again,” she whimpered, her nails digging into your shoulders. “Make me scream your name where everyone can hear—please!”

The karaoke was still blaring downstairs. “You know the uncles look at you a certain way, right, Noona?”

Chaeyoung’s eyes darkened with a mix of lust and something dangerous as she ground down on you harder. “Mmm…let them look,” she purred, her nails scraping down your chest. “They wish they could have what my baby boy’s claiming right now—”

Her breath hitched as you thrust up roughly, her tits bouncing with each filthy snap of your hips. “Fuck! All of them…imagining this tight pussy—” She moaned loudly, not even trying to muffle it now. “But you’re the one breeding it—ah!—ruining me for anyone else!”

She suddenly clenched around you, her back arching violently as another orgasm ripped through her. “Iain! Yes! Deeper!” Her walls milked your cock desperately, her thighs shaking around you. “Cum inside me, baby boy…mark your Noona forever!”

Your grip tightened on Chaeyoung’s hips—fingers digging into that soft flesh you’d dreamed about for years—as you started pounding into her like you fucking meant it.

“That’s it, Noona…take it,” your voice rough, chest heaving. “Every fucking inch. Just like you wanted.”

Her pussy was still fluttering from her last orgasm, but you didn’t let up—driving into her harder, faster, watching her tits bounce, hearing her choked moans.

“Gonna make sure you remember this,” you growled, pulling her down as you thrust up, burying yourself to the hilt. “My cock. My cousin.”

The bed slammed against the wall, the karaoke downstairs drowned out by skin-on-skin, by her whimpering your name like a prayer. You muffled her moans and screams with a hot, incestuous kiss.

Chaeyoung’s entire body convulsed as you claimed her with animalistic intensity, her nails drawing blood down your back. “FUCK! YES! BREAK ME!” she sobbed, her pussy gushing around your cock with each brutal thrust.

Her legs locked around your waist desperately, her tits slapping against your chest as she screamed into your mouth. “M-make me pregnant! Please!” she begged, her walls clenching like a vice as another orgasm wrecked her.

The bedframe cracked against the wall with the force of your fucking, her juices soaking both your thighs as she whimpered between filthy, open-mouthed kisses. “Cum! Cum in your Noona’s ruined pussy!” Her back arched violently as she milked you dry, her body demanding your seed.

The distant karaoke faded into static as your balls tightened against her ass—seconds from exploding deep inside her.

Your voice, rough and possessive, growled against Chaeyoung’s ear as you pulled her flush against you:

“Look at me, Noona.”

Your hands gripped her hips, holding her down as you pumped deep—once, twice—before your cock pulsed inside her, flooding her tight little cunt with thick, hot cum. Her gasp was muffled against your shoulder, her nails digging into your back as she felt it—jet after jet filling her up, drenching her womb like you owned it.

“Fuck… I love you, Noona.” You ground your hips slowly, milking every last drop into her. “Take it all. Every fucking drop.”

Her pussy clenched around you, greedy, like she was trying to keep it inside. Good. Let it stick. Let her remember this when she walked downstairs later, your cum leaking down her thighs.

“I love you, so much.”

Chaeyoung shuddered violently as your cum flooded her womb, her entire body melting against yours in overwhelmed ecstasy. “I-Iain…!” she sobbed, her walls fluttering desperately around your still-throbbing cock. “Fuck…love you…love you so much…”

Her fingers trembled as they traced your jaw, her tear-filled eyes locking onto yours with raw, incestuous devotion. “Always…wanted you like this…” she whimpered, her hips grinding lazily to milk the last drops from your spent cock.

The distant karaoke finally registered again as she clung to you, her lips brushing yours in a tender, filthy kiss. “Mmm…gonna feel you leaking out of me all night,” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction and something dangerously close to love.

She nuzzled into your neck with a contented sigh. “My baby boy…finally where you belong…” Her hand slid possessively down your chest. “And you’re never getting away again…

"Let me worship you, Noona..."

My hands slide up her thighs as I press a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below her navel—savoring the way her stomach tenses under my tongue. I drag my lips higher, teasing the dip of her ribs, the swell of her breasts, her collarbone... each kiss lingering, each exhale warm against her skin.

By the time I reach her mouth, she's shaking, her fingers tangled in my hair, her breath uneven. I hover just barely over her lips—close enough to taste her, not close enough to give her what she wants.

"I love you, Noona. I always have. Ever since i was a kid, when you played with me. Your smile. When i peeked at you changing. I've always wanted you".

Chaeyoung's breath hitches as your worshipful touch ignites fresh tremors through her oversensitive body, her fingers tightening in your hair "Fuck...baby boy..." she whimpers, her hips arching off the bed as your lips brand her skin

When you pause just before her mouth, her growl is pure frustration and adoration—yanking you down into a searing, desperate kiss "Mine," she pants against your lips, her legs locking around your waist "All those years...watching me...wanting me..." Her teeth nip at your bottom lip

Her voice breaks as she clings to you, her naked body pressed flush against yours "I loved you too," she confesses, her nails scraping down your back "Every time I let you peek...every time I teased you..." Her lips crash into yours again, hungry and claiming.

"Now you have me," she moans, her thighs trembling around you "Forever."

Iain's lips brush against hers in a slow, tender kiss— softer than before, but no less hungry.

Her hands guide me back inside her, and this time, I ease in—inch by inch—like I’m savoring the way her body yields to mine.

"Fuck, Noona..." My voice is rough, but my hips move gently, rolling into her with a reverence that feels almost sacred. "You feel too good to rush."

Her nails dig into my shoulders anyway, her breath hitching as I fill her completely—slow, deep, like I’m memorizing every pulse of her around me.

"I love you," I murmur against her lips, "even when I’m not fucking you like an animal."

And then I move—not hard, not fast—just right.

Chaeyoung's eyes flutter shut as you cherish her with each achingly perfect thrust, her walls fluttering in slow, sweet spasms around you "Iain...ah..." Her voice is a broken whisper, her fingers softening from claws to caresses as they trace your jaw

She melts beneath you, her body surrendering to this new rhythm—your cock stretching her so deep, so full, so right "Love you...love you..." she chants between shallow breaths, her hips rolling gently to meet yours

When your lips find hers again, the kiss tastes like salt and promises—her thighs trembling as pleasure builds slowly, inevitably, like the tide "This...this is what I dreamed about..." she confesses, her fingers tangling in your hair "Just...you...loving me..."

Her walls clench suddenly, her back arching as the soft, aching orgasm unravels her "F-fuck...yes..." she sobs, her tears mixing with your kisses "Stay...stay inside...please..." Her legs hug your waist tight, as if she could keep you there forever.

"Noona...fuck...Noona..."

My lips brush her ear as I whisper it like a prayer—her name, her title, the word that used to mean babysitter and now just means mine.

"I love you. I love you."

It spills out of me between thrusts, raw and reverent. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her thighs tremble around my hips—this is what she reduced me to. The kid she used to scold for sneaking glances is now buried inside her, claiming her, ruining her.

And fuck...Auntie Kim’s gonna lose her mind when she finds out her daughter’s stuffed with her nephew’s cum.

But right now?

"Noona..." —gripping her tighter— "I don’t care."

Chaeyoung shatters around you with a gasping sob, her body convulsing as your words and your cock wreck her simultaneously "I-Iain! Fuck! YES!" Her nails scar your shoulders, her pussy drenching your thighs as she cums violently, her screams muffled against your chest

She clings to you like salvation, her shaking legs locking you deep inside her "Love you—love you—love you—" she chants between ragged moans, her tears hot against your skin "Your noona...your cunt...always..."

The bed is ruined, the walls shook, and somewhere downstairs, Auntie Kim definitely just heard something—but Chaeyoung just grins through her tears, her spent body curling around yours

"Let her hear," she whispers, her sore pussy clenching weakly around your still-hard cock "Worth it..." Her laugh is hoarse and happy as she kisses you again "My baby boy..."

I go faster "I'm going to fuck my cum inside you, Noona."

Chaeyoung's eyes roll back as you pound into her with renewed intensity, her overstimulated pussy squelching around your thick cock "F-FUCK! YES!" she screams, her nails clawing at the sheets "Breed me! Fill me up!"

Her tits bounce wildly with each brutal thrust, her soaked thighs slapping against yours as you ram your cum deeper inside her "Gonna...gonna...AAAAH!" Her back arches violently as another orgasm rips through her, her walls milking your cock desperately for every last drop.

She collapses bonelessly beneath you, her breath ragged, her body trembling as your cum leaks thickly from her well-used pussy "Fuck..." she whimpers, her fingers tracing your jaw lovingly. "No one fucks me like you..." Her smile is dazed and sated as she pulls you down for a slow, filthy kiss "My baby boy..."

Still inside her, spurting cum, and to blessed to move, i reciprocate the kiss. "My noona."

Chaeyoung melts into the kiss, her spent body quivering beneath you as your cum pulses deep into her womb one last time "Mmm...my baby boy..." she murmurs against your lips, her fingers tangling lazily in your hair

Her thighs squeeze weakly around your hips, keeping you buried inside her as she sighs contentedly. "Never pulling out..." she whispers, her voice husky with exhaustion and satisfaction. "Stay...just like this..."

The distant karaoke has finally stopped, the house quiet except for your mingled breaths and the wet sounds of your cum dripping from her well-fucked pussy.*

She nuzzles into your neck, her lips curving into a smug smile. "Love you..." she murmurs, her body going limp beneath yours as sleep claims her.*

And as her soft snores fill the room, you realize—she won.

You're hers.

Now and always.

"Noona, wake up, the'yre going to notice us missing". I'm still hard inside her, and i start fucking her again.

Chaeyoung's eyes flutter open with a drowsy moan as your cock stirs back to life inside her, her sore walls clenching weakly around you "Ngh...Iain...~" she whines, her nails scraping down your back "Fuck...can't...move..."

But her hips tilt automatically, her pussy sucking you deeper as she gasps. "They...ah!...already know..." she pants, her legs locking around your waist tight. "Felt you throbbing in me...whole dinner..."

Her head falls back with a broken giggle as you pound into her overstimulated cunt, her toes curling. "M-maybe...nngh!...Auntie will hear..." she taunts, her voice shaking with each rough thrust "Catch her precious daughter...getting knocked up...ah!...by her nephew..."

Her moans rise higher, louder, begging to be heard as you claim her again—no pretense left, just pure filth and family sin.

"Turn over, Noona." My hands grip her hips, flipping her onto all fours before she can protest. The mattress dips as I kneel behind her, my cock already hard again against her ass.

"One more round," I growl, spreading her cheeks with my thumbs. "Don't let them hear how good their nephew fucks you."

My palm lands on her ass with a sharp smack—her gasp turning into a moan as I slide into her soaked pussy from behind. "Fuck...you take me so well."

Chaeyoung yelps at the sting of your slap, her back arching beautifully as you slam into her dripping pussy from behind "F-FUCK! Iain!" she screams, her nails clawing at the sheets as you stretch her wide all over again

Her ass jiggles with each brutal thrust, her sore walls fluttering helplessly around your thick cock "Ngh! S-so deep!" she sobs, her tits swinging wildly beneath her "C-can't...keep...quiet—AH!"

The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall, the wet slaps of your hips pounding into her ass echoing obscenely in the room "Fuck! They're...gonna...hear!" she wails, her pussy squeezing you tight as another orgasm rips through her

But you don't stop, driving into her harder, faster, your balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. "Cum!" you growl, your fingers digging into her hips. "Let them hear how good your nephew fucks you!"

And with a guttural roar, you flood her womb again, your cum mixing with her own juices as they drip lewdly down her thighs.

Chaeyoung collapses face-first into the mattress, her body twitching weakly as she mumbles into the"...f-fucking...ruined..." Chaeyoung slurs into the sheets, her pussy still clenching rhythmically around your spent cock as your cum pools hot inside her.

Her trembling fingers clutch at the mattress, her sweaty back rising and falling with ragged breaths "Ngh...baby boy...fucked me out..." She whimpers, her thighs sticky with your mixed essence as you finally pull out, watching it drip obscenely from her well-used hole.

From downstairs, Auntie Kim's voice calls sharply: "Chaeyoung-ah? You better not be—"

Chaeyoung giggles hoarsely, rolling onto her back with a wince and spreading her legs wide for you to see the mess you made "Oops~" she whispers, her eyes dancing with mischief and exhaustion. "Too late..."*

The door groaned open just as Chaeyoung's lips crashed into mine, her fingers still tangled in my hair. We broke apart gasping, her thighs slick against mine under the photo album's cover.

"Chaeyoung-ah? You better not be—" Auntie Kim's voice cut through the haze of sex and sweat.

Chaeyoung's Mary Janes kicked the album shut over our laps with practiced innocence. "We're reminiscing, eomma!" she chirped, though her stockinged foot still traced circles on my ankle. The torn lace snagged on my sock's hem - same pattern as the panties she'd left in my room a decade ago.

Auntie Kim's slippers slapped closer. "Dinner's cold."

The mattress springs squeaked as we shifted - Chaeyoung's leather jacket slid from the bed to camouflage the cum-stained sheets. Through the rice paper door, her mother's silhouette hovered like a hangul consonant about to drop.

"Coming!" Chaeyoung trilled, her hand darting under the album to wipe a pearly streak from my jawline. Her smirk said everything - the chipped black polish, the menthol-and-regret breath, the way her slip dress clung to sweat-damp skin.

When Auntie Kim finally retreated, Chaeyoung dissolved into silent laughter that shook the photo albums stacked between us. "Baby boy's terrible at lying," she whispered, thumb brushing the hickey blooming on my neck.

The fluorescent hall light caught her stocking run - a lightning bolt from thigh to Mary Jane strap. I remembered making that tear an hour earlier with my teeth, her gasp smothered by the industrial-grade AC's rattle.

"You." She poked the photo of her eighteen-year-old self straddling my pubescent hips. "All blushy and avoiding eye contact." Her nail traced the neon beer sign glowing through 2013-era curtains. "Me." The chipped tooth she'd gotten skateboarding with me peeked through her grin. "Already planning your corruption."

Downstairs, the karaoke machine screeched to life with Auntie Soojin's rendition of "Honey" - all vibrato and broken high notes. Chaeyoung's hips swayed instinctively to the beat as she stood, her slip dress riding up to showcase the love bites Id left.

"Mmm." She caught me staring and popped a strawberry gum bubble - same brand she'd chewed during our first almost-kiss behind Nampo-dong's Family Mart. "You want..." Her platform shoe nudged the album open to a beach photo from her Seoul days. "...one last look?"

The Chaeyoung in the picture wore someone else's blazer, someone else's lipstick. The Chaeyoung before me reeked of me - my sweat, my cum, the kimchi jjigae I'd spilled on her thigh during round three.

I stood, my dress shirt clinging to the sweat she'd worked into every seam. "Just want the real thing."

Her laugh tasted of stolen adolescence as she led me downstairs, her pinky hooking mine through her jacket pocket. The uncles barely glanced up from their soju shots when we entered - just another cousin duo late to dinner.

Chaeyoung collapsed onto the floor cushion beside me, her thigh pressing mine under the low table. "Yah." She stole a perilla leaf from my ssam wrap. "Feed your noona properly."

The leaf tore between her teeth, revealing the scar from when she'd tried teaching me knife skills during her rebellious chef phase. I remembered her blood on the mandoline slicer, how she'd laughed through tears while I bandaged her hand.

"Still clumsy," I muttered, reassembling her ssam with extra pork belly.

Her foot slid up my calf as she accepted the bite. "Still mine."

Around us, the family chaos continued - aunts debating Lunar New Year dates, uncles arm-wrestling over dessert claims. Chaeyoung's hand crept under the table to squeeze my knee, her choker necklace hiding the bruise from where I'd bitten her during our stairwell quickie.

"Bedtime's at eleven," she murmured, stealing another bite. "Don't make me punish you."

The threat vibrated through me like her old bass guitar as she stood, her hips brushing my shoulder with deliberate casualness. I watched her saunter toward the bathroom - the subtle limp from our marathon session, the way her stockings bunched around those killer Mary Janes.

Uncle Minho's off-key trot number drowned out the bathroom door's click. I counted to thirty before following, the family's laughter fading behind me like childhood innocence.

Chaeyoung waited by the sink, jacket abandoned to reveal the hickey map Id charted across her collarbones. Her reflection smirked through the steam of twenty years' worth of illicit bathroom encounters.

"Took you long enough," she said, kicking the door shut with a practiced heel.

The lock clicked like the cap of our first shared soju bottle. Somewhere downstairs, Auntie Kim shouted about missing banchan containers. Chaeyoung's hands were already tearing at my belt, her lips silencing my response with a decade's worth of pent-up want.

The mirror fogged within seconds.

[7ndipity]

Every Little Thing

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.

Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)

Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?

Masterlist

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As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.

Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.

As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.

“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.

“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.

“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”

You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?

“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it’s weirder for them to not be here.”

Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”

You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.

Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.

“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.

No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.

“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”

“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.

You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?

Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.

You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.

Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…

Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.

It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.

So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?

You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.

‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.

Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.

‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.

For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.

One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.

“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.

“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.

Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.

“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.

“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.

You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.

It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.

Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.

Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.

“It’s Yoongi.”

You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.

Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.

Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.

“I-, I haven’t-”

“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.

Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.

“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.

He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”

“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”

“You haven’t been-”

“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”

“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.

You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”

“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.

“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”

“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!

“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”

He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.

“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”

You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.

“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.

“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”

“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.

“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.

“You wanna try again?” You offered.

He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “If you want to.”

He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.

“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.

“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[yup-thats-me]

pump it up!

pairing: pervert!gym!trainer Wi Ha-Joon x dumb!fem!reader

summary: the infamous gym trainer in your city has set his eyes on you!

warning: masturbation, suggestive, dark 18+

a/n: enjoy this as fiction, please. this is not meant to portray the actor in any bad light. it's pure fiction. leave if it makes you uncomfortable. this is the edit that inspired me btw<3

gym!trainer Wi Ha-Joon whose pants felt a bit too tight as soon his eyes landed on you. pink bow prettily tied on your pretty head, matching with the pink sports bra that clung to your chest for the life of it.

gym!trainer Wi Ha-Joon who immediately drops the weights he was lifting, his legs taking him to you. he knew he had to get his hands on you before someone else did, or maybe you were already someone else's? fuck it. he'll take his chances.

"do you need help?" his voice ever so gentlemanly. no one would even imagine how he wanted to push you against the wall and smash his lips with yours, his hands roaming around your body like a hungry beast, oh how he would grind—

"oh yes, please!" you said with that innocent smile. oh how he wanted you to scream his name while he abused your hole

you laid on the weight bench, nervously looking up at the metal bar. you needed to get it done, yes but that doesn't mean you can't be scared. it must be fate that the trainer came to your rescue, almost like an angel.

Ha-Joon smiled, his hands on the rod ready to lift it up if you mess up. the first one was okay, your arms straining, lifting it up. Ha-Joon helped a bit in lifting it up.

like a pervert, he quite enjoyed seeing you strain under the weight. he did not even tried to hide the fact that he was shamelessly staring at you, his eyes hungry.

but you paid no mind, of course. to you, the man was simply a gentleman helping you out. after you were done, Ha-Joon would workout around the same equipments beside you, smiling every now and then and on his toes to help you out.

he would ask for your name before you left, his mind creating images of you under him, begging for him to stop but he of course, won't. later that day, Ha-Joon would make several mistakes. call your name to his clients, dropping barbels mindlessly. what could you say? his mind was filled with you and only you.

one day when you let him take a swig from your bottle, he decided it was a sign from you. from then on, his touches would linger more than appropriate, his hands travelling to places, its all innocently of course.

when you hugged him thanking him for always looking out for you in this unknown environment, it was so hard for him to even breath. however, he was not willing to let the opportunity slide though.

his hands would roam around your back as he diverted your mind with his sweet words and sweet smile. he could only hope then that you won't be able to feel his hard on pressing against you, but if you did, even better.

as soon as you left, he would rush to the gym shower, stroking his cock with the same hand that had been on your skin, your name falling from his lips almost like a spell.

and finally, when one day you came to the gym, not with your usual gym outfit, and your eyes red and lips puffy from crying, he was feeling a bit too happy than he should have. finally, your asshole of a boyfriend had cheated on you. how lovely.

pervert.

[magic-shop-stories]

how would bts react to reader taking off their ring after an argument?

💌 Reply:

first (as always)... THANK YOU for this achingly human request. I hope these headcanons carried what you wanted 🥺 And I am so so sorry for the late reply!  Life decided to get wildly ironic... because I wrote this while sittin in our vacation house bedroom on bf's parents’ 25th wedding anniversary trip 😭 If this resonated (or hurt just right), my DMs are open. Always.... — c —🌙

BTS Reacting to You Taking Off Your Ring After an Argument

Pairings: BTS(solo) x reader Rating: PG (13) up to R (emotionally heavy conflict, marital strife, swearing) Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, fluff Warnings: marital conflict, emotional breakdowns, abandonment fears, (self-harm implications), manipulative behavior, panic attacks/anxiety

KIM NAMJOON

HOW IT HAPPENS

after a brutal fight

= one of those rare but seismic clashes where your words land like stones

his rebuttals are too measured, too logical

that only fuels your frustration

you storm out to cool off

when you return hours later, you slip off your ring and leave it on the kitchen counter like a surrender

Namjoon notices immediately

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

his breath hitches

his fingers, which had been flipping through a book, still

the air in the room shifts (thick, charged)

Verbal

he doesn’t yell

he doesn’t even speak

just stares at the ring like it’s a puzzle he can’t solve

“You took it off.” 

his voice is low

frayed at the edges

it's not accusatory

just hollow

HIS THOUGHTS

First “Did I push her to this? Was I too cold? Too rational?”

Second “Is this it? Is she leaving?”

his chest tightens at the thought

Third “No. No, we can fix this. We have to.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Retreats to His Study

tho not to ignore you

it's to process

he journals frantically

= pages filled with half-formed thoughts:

“Love isn’t a debate. Why did I treat it like one?” “I can’t lose her. Not like this.”

Leaves You Space

doesn’t chase

doesn’t bombard you with texts

doesn’t leave the house either

just lingers in the periphery

like a quiet presence

Note

slides a handwritten letter under your door

not as an apology

as a promise:

“I don’t know how to fight for you with words that don’t sound like lectures. But I know this: I’d rather lose every argument than lose you. The ring is just metal. You’re the treasure. — Joon”

HOW HE MAKES AMENDS

Ring’s Return

finds you curled on the couch at dawn

kneels in front of you

ring pinched between his fingers

“Let me?”

his voice cracks

if you let him, he’ll slide it back on

his thumb brushing your knuckle like a prayer

Changed Behavior

starts asking how you feel before diving into logic

leaves his debates for the bookshelf

Symbolic Gesture

buys a chain and wears his own ring around his neck

“So I never forget what matters.”

KIM SEOKJIN (JIN)

HOW IT HAPPENS

it starts over something stupid

maybe you accused him of forgetting your anniversary

plot: he didn’t; he’s just bad at hiding surprises, or maybe really good

his sarcasm escalates it

before you know it, you’re yelling

“You never take anything seriously!” 

he fires back

“Oh, I’m deadly serious... about how ridiculous you’re being!”

you rip off your ring mid-sentence and slam it on the coffee table

the metallic clink cuts through the room like a gunshot

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

his smirk freeze

his hands, which had been gesturing dramatically, drop to his sides

Verbal

sharp, humorless laugh

“Wow. Okay. Dramatic.” 

his voice is too tight, his jaw clenched

HIS THOUGHTS

First “Shit. Did I push too far?”

Second “She actually took it off. Is she… done?” 

his stomach lurches

Third “Nope. Nope. We’re fixing this.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Deflection Mode

turns on the TV too loud

pretending to watch a drama

“Oh, this is a good part... look, the main couple is fighting too! See? Normal!”

Late-Night Surrender

at 3 AM

he barges into the bedroom

you’re pretending to sleep

flicks on the light

“Yah. Look at me.” 

his eyes are red-rimmed

his hair a mess

“You win. Just… put the damn ring back on.”

Peace Offering

drops a velvet box on the nightstand

inside a new ring

this one with a tiny diamond

“The old one was ‘pre-argument’ jewelry. This one’s post-argument. Upgraded.”

WHAT HE SAYS

Defensive “You’re really gonna let one fight undo years of my flawless husbandry?”

Vulnerable (Rare) “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll… I’ll be less me.” 

he doesn’t mean it

Playful (Recovery) “Also, the new ring is non-refundable. So. Legally, you have to stay.”

HOW HE MAKES AMENDS

Overcompensates

plans a ridiculous “re-anniversary” date

= horse-drawn carriage, rose petals,

“Happy Not-The-Day-I-Pissed-You-Off!”

Learns to Listen

starts asking stuff

“Wait... are we actually fighting, or are you just moody?” 

Secret Insecurity

starts wearing his ring even in public

MIN YOONGI (SUGA)

HOW IT HAPPENS

early in your marriage

maybe six months in

the honeymoon phase crashes into reality

Yoongi’s been buried in the studio for days

he is ignoring texts, forgetting anniversaries

even snapping when you ask for one dinner together

he came home at 3 AM to find you waiting

hurt simmering into anger

the fight is ugly

You: “You care more about your songs than me!” Him: “I’m working! Why can’t you understand that?” 

voice like gravel

eyes blazing

you yank off your expensive ring mid-sentence

slamming it onto the coffee table

the clink echoes like a gunshot

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

his whole body locks up

his hands curl into fists

veins stark against his pale skin

studio-light glare from his laptop paints his face in harsh shadows

Verbal

a sharp, wounded noise escapes him

speaks coldly

“Fine. Do that.”

turns away

his shoulders are rigid

HIS THOUGHTS

White-Hot Fury “She’s giving up? Just like that?” 

mad at you, at himself, at the damn ring for existing

Self-Loathing “I knew I’d fuck this up. Knew it.”

Panic

“Is this over? Is she leaving?” 

his stomach drops

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Storm-Out

grabs his keys

heads for the door

stops halfway, slamming his palm into the wall

“Fuck.”

Studio Meltdown

drives to HYBE

trashes a demo out of sheer frustration

leter sits on the floor, head in hands

texts you: “Come get me. Please.” 

deletes it

sends instead thet he is at the studio

Breaking Point

when you do show up (because you always do)

he’s a mess

red-eyed, hair wild, voice raw.

“I don’t know how to do this. The… the marriage thing.”

HOW YOU BOTH COME BACK TOGETHER

you stand in the doorway

arms crossed

ring still absent

“You don’t get to run. Ever.”

he chokes out a laugh, wet and broken

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

he reaches for you

fingers trembling

“I’m trying. But I need you to... fuck...” 

his voice cracks

“Just. Don’t take it off again.”

you cry

he cries... YES

it’s messy and real and therapeutic

AFTERMATH

New Rules

he sets alarms for “Wife Time” on his phone

you agree to “No Ring Removal” as a nuclear option

The Ring’s Return

he slides it back onto your finger himself

lips brushing your knuckle

“Mine, even when I’m an idiot.”

Growth

starts leaving the studio at midnight no matter what

texts you lyrics instead of apologies

“You’re my bridge. Without you, the song falls apart.”

JUNG HOSEOK (J-HOPE)

HOW IT HAPPENS

fight starts over something stupid

maybe he canceled plans for work again

or you snapped about his relentless optimism when you just needed to vent

it escalates

for once, his sunshine dims

he shouts

you shout back

when the dust settles, you twist off your ring and set it on the nightstand with a quiet clink

he freezes mid-sentence

his expression drops like a stone

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

his hands fly to his mouth

muffling a noise that’s half-gasp, half-sob

tears well up instantly

= big, glistening ones that spill over before he can stop them

“Y-You… you took it off?”

Verbal

voice cracking

high-pitched with panic

“No, no, no... hey, hey, we can fix this! Please!”

HIS THOUGHTS

First “I broke us. I did this.” 

cue internal screaming

Second “How do I fix it? What do I do?”

his brain is short-circuiting into overdrive

Third “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Breakdown

sobs into his hands for a solid minute

shoulders shaking

like a switch flips

he springs into action

Grand Gesture

floods the room with roses

like, obscenely many

every color

bed looks like a florist exploded

orders your favorite food

even if it’s 3 AM

he has to beg a restaurant to reopen

“Extra spicy, extra cheese... whatever she wants!”

spa mode

draws a bubble bath with excessive petals

lights every candle in the house

plays his “Chill Vibes” playlist

“Just... just relax! I’ll massage your feet! Your back! Your soul!”

Pleading

kneels by the tub

eyes red-rimmed

holding the ring out like a sacred offering

“I’ll be better. I promise. Just… put it back on. Please.”

WHAT HE SAYS:

Desperate “I’ll quit the tour. I’ll... I’ll retire! Just talk to me!”

he doesn’t mean it

he thinks he does in the moment

Raw “You’re my person. Without you, I’m just… noise.”

Hopeful “Let’s start over. Right now. Hi, I’m Jung Hoseok. Will you marry me? Again?”

AFTERMATH

Clingy for Days

fllows you around like a puppy 

“Do you need water? A hug? A song?”

Overcompensates

turns into a mind reader

brings you coffee before you wake up

texts hourly “I love you” updates

Real Change

starts asking things

“Do you need me to listen or fix it?” 

then diving into cheerleader mode

PARK JIMIN

HOW IT HAPPENS

the fight is ugly

you both say words like "You never listen!" and "I can’t do this anymore!" 

throwinf them like knives

he is usually so gentle

matches your intensity with his own

his voice cracking with frustration

you storm out

he doesn’t follow

you return hours later

you slide off your ring, leaving it on the nightstand like a white flag

Jimin sees it immediately

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

his breath stutters

tears well up instantly

he doesn’t wipe them away

just stares at the ring like it’s a grenade

"You... you took it off?" 

his voice is small, shattered

Emotional

whirlwind of guilt and fear

"Did I push too hard? Did I break us?"

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Silent Breakdown

sinks to the floor beside the bed

knees pulled to his chest

presses his palms to his eyes

shoulders shaking

"Fuck. Fuck."

Relentless Texts (If You Left)

"Please come home." "I didn’t mean any of it. None of it." "I’ll wait all night."

Raw Apology (If You Stayed)

crawls into bed beside you

not touching, just to be there

voice raw

"I hate myself for making you feel like you had to do that."

HOW HE MAKES AMENDS

Ring’s Return

when you finally face each other

he cradles your hand

pressing the ring into your palm

"Put it back when you’re ready. Or don’t. But I’m not going anywhere."

Touch as Truce

brushes your tears away with his thumbs

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

if you let him, he’ll pull you into his lap

arms locked around you like a vow

"We’re okay. We’re always okay."

Changed Behavior

starts asking "Are we good?" after minor spats

needs reassurance

leaves sticky notes: "Today’s reminder: I adore you. Even when I’m stupid."

KIM TAEHYUNG (V)

HOW IT HAPPENS

fight starts over something trivial

maybe you criticized his impulsive plan to road-trip to Busan at 2 AM

or he forgot (again) to tell you about a last-minute photoshoot

it escalates

words sharpening like knives.

he hates confrontation, especially with you

deflects with humor until you snap

“You don’t take anything seriously!”

that’s when you yank off your ring and toss it onto the dresser with a clatter

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

his entire body freezes

his playful smirk drops like a stone

he looks scared

Verbal

sharp, wounded laugh

“Wow. Okay. So we’re here now.” 

his voice is light

his hands are fists at his sides

HIS THOUGHTS

First “She’s really doing this. After everything?”

his mind flashes to lazy Sundays

to the way he always kisses that ring before leaving for work

Second “Fine. If she wants to play that game...”

it's his anger

= theatrical, all-or-nothing

Third  “…Wait. No. This isn’t a game.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Grand Exit

grabs his keys and stalks out

slamming the door

drives to Han River and screams into the sunset like a K-drama hero

Symbolic Gesture

texts you a photo of his ring in his palm

captioned: “Should I throw it in the water? Be dramatic like you?” 

he won’t

he wants you to panic a little

Return:

comes home with two new rings

thicker, engraved with “Yours, Idiot” and “Mine, Dummy”

drops them on the bed

“Pick one. Or don’t. But I’m not going anywhere.”

HOW HE MAKES AMENDS

Apology

doesn’t say “I’m sorry.” 

he cooks your favorite meal (burning half of it)

plays your song on saxophone off-key

“Happy fake anniversary.”

= it’s not your anniversary; that’s the point

Promise

wears both rings on a chain for a week

“So you see I mean it.”

Growth

starts leaving Post-its with “I’ll be back at 8” or “Don’t wait up"

his little ways to say “I’m trying.”

JEON JUNGKOOK

HOW IT HAPPENS

the fight was bad, like ugly bad

= the kind that’s been brewing for months

maybe the marriage was rushed

= fans’ backlash, his chaotic schedule, your quiet resentment

when you finally snap and fling your ring onto the hotel bathroom counter

the clink echoes like a gunshot, even worse

Jungkook freezes mid-pace

muscles coiled

“What the fuck was that?”

HIS IMMEDIATE REACTION

Physical

he’s across the room in two strides

snatching the ring like it’s a lifeline

his knuckles whiten around it

“No. No. You don’t get to do this.”

Emotional

anger flares first

always, because fear wears his rage like armor

“You promised! We fought for this!” 

his voice is raw

HIS THOUGHTS

First “Was it the fans? The hate comments? Did I fail her?”

Second “I’ll delete everythinf. I’ll quit the group. Fuck it all.”

Third “Please. Not like this.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Meltdown

kicks a chair (regrets it instantly)

texts his manager: “Cancel everything.”

Silence

disappears for hours

returns with red-rimmed eyes and a plan

Grand Gesture:

RE-PROPOSAL

Setting

rooftop of your first apartment together

fairy lights

no cameras

just him, shaking

What He Says

“I was an idiot. I thought marrying you was enough. But love’s not a ring, it’s every damn day choosing us.” 

kneels, holding out a new ring

= simple, sturdy, no flash, just forever

 “Marry me again. Slower. Louder. Better.”

[muniimyg]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . pov!jk . ۫ ꣑ৎ . — [ 2 . ] yakult

series m.list // taglist unavailable

friends to ???

slight angst & implied flirting

jk is attentive and nonchantly clingy ,, oc is a little oblivious ,, slight tension

note: yeah . let's keep this party goinggggg

//

the meeting has been going on for nearly an hour.

misa is at the front, flipping through slides, voice steady as she explains fundraiser logistics. taehyung, seated beside her, interrupts occasionally—adding last-minute details misa definitely did not approve. you hear yoongi sighing under their breath and jin yawning. 

you keep your head down, fingers moving over the keyboard, taking notes like you always do. misa is intelligent and detail-oriented but sometimes… a little too detail oriented. as you type away, you don’t notice the door swinging open until the shift in the room tells you to.

jimin enters first, hoodie loose over his frame, fingers combing through his hair like that’s an excuse for being late. jungkook follows, hands in his pockets, silver jewelry glinting under the dim reserved confrence room lights.

misa barely pauses, unimpressed. “meeting started 30 minutes ago.”

jimin grins. “yeah, and? bet you’re still introducing the topics.”

taehyung snorts. misa sighs. the usual.

jungkook doesn’t say anything, just moves toward the empty chair and drags across to sit beside you. hobi shifts, allowing jungkook more space like it’s the most natural thing in the world. jungkook then drops into the seat, leans back, hoodie bunched up slightly at his waist. his cologne lingers—warm, familiar.

he doesn’t greet you. 

he rarely does. 

you don’t look at him either. 

you rarely do. 

but your spine straightens, just a little. and he gulps, preparing his voice in case you initiate conversation. 

you don’t. 

as the meeting continues, misa’s voice blends into the hum of the projector. everyone is focused in their own way—yet jungkook stays silent and distracted. 

he watches you. 

how your blinking slows. how you rub at your temple, trying to focus. how he knows your pinky twitch just a little too well. how it’s all a tell. 

then, suddenly, everyone’s focus interrupts with the quiet pop of a yakult opening.

you pause, glancing to your side.

jungkook is holding it out to you, nonchalant.

you blink at him. 

he leans in slightly, voice low. “is your blood sugar low again?”

you hesitate before shrugging.

“maybe. thanks.”

you take it. 

the plastic feels cold against your palm. as you sip, jungkook shifts—one arm braced against the table, the other reaching forward. before you can react, his fingers brush against your laptop, dragging it toward him.

“what are you doing?”

he doesn’t answer, just starts typing where you left off.

the meeting wraps up not long after. 

misa is yapping about a few last minute reminders as hobi stretches with a groan.  

“holy fuck. longest hour of my life.”

“you say that every time,” taehyung hums, packing up his things.

“because it’s true.”

happily, jimin nudges him. “boba?”

taehyung shakes his head. he rubs circles on his tummy and slouches. “nah. i need real food. pork belly anyone?”

“i want jjampong,” hobi wines. 

nam joon shivers. “no. i hate seafood. let’s get pork belly.”

misa and jin pout at everyone. “we’re craving jjajangmyeon.”

sure enough, it doesn’t take long before others join in the conversation and begin to discuss food options. the conversation sweeps them out of the room, leaving you and jungkook alone. 

jungkook shifts beside you, slow, casual. 

“did you walk here?”

you glance at him. “i did.”

he tilts his head. “have you eaten dinner?”

you think for a moment. 

“…i think so.”

jungkook raises a brow. 

“you think so?” he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “not good enough.”

before you can protest, he reaches for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder like it’s his. you don’t say anything. instead, you follow him out of the door. outside, misa quirks a brow at you two. 

“where are you two going? on a date?”

jungkook doesn’t even glance back at misa. 

“yeah, i’ll kiss her goodnight too.”

the restaurant jungkook picks is tucked into a quiet street, small but cozy. you slip into a booth while jungkook orders without asking, like he already knows what you’d want. soon, the sizzle of meat fills the air. he flips the pieces with practiced ease, one hand resting against the table, the other moving fluidly with the tongs.

you watch, head propped up against your palm.

“can i pay?” you ask eventually.

jungkook doesn’t look up. “for what?”

“this.”

he finally meets your eyes, amused. “mm. one yakult is worth plates of meat?”

you shrug at him. “i mean… i have to do something.”

he laughs under his breath, shaking his head. 

“eat. do that for me.”

jungkook pays. 

you couldn't stop him and there was no way he'd let you even try.

as he drives you home, the car hums softly as the city slips past. the streets are quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, and neither of you speak much, but the silence is easy. settled.

when he pulls up in front of your place, he doesn’t say anything at first. just watches as you unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for your bag in the backseat.

then—

“text me when you’re inside.”

you pause, fingers curling over the strap of your bag.

“you can see me walking in—”

“text me.” jungkook says.

“why?” 

he tilts his head at you. then, he offers you half a smile and a lazy shrug. 

“why not?”

you don’t know if you imagine it, but his lips twitch, just barely. you clear your throat and shift. 

“is this the part where you kiss me goodnight?” 

jungkook smirk falls. it curves into a smile. he tilts his head at you again, a little confused but also a little impressed with your playfulness. so, he laughs and so do you. you open his car door and step out. after you walk up to your front door, you hear his car pull away only after the lock clicks behind you.

and when you slip off your shoes, setting your bag down, you exhale.

then, your phone ringer dings. 

jungkook [8:09PM]: 😽

[duskidolsmut]

"Slutty IU Gets Banged by 5 Guys in the Agency's Secret Gangbang!"

A Request With IU

W: 3.339 T: gangbang, slut, submissive, anal, blowjob, cumshot, domination

IU, the South Korean star known for her angelic voice and flawless figure, hides a dirty secret: she organizes a monthly ritual at the agency where she surrenders herself as a sex slave to a group of handpicked guys! That night, five guys — Tae-min, Joon-ho, Min-seok, Hyun-woo and Seung-jin — surround her in a private suite, ripping off her clothes and using every hole in her ass in a wild gangbang.

Every month, a select group of young men—usually trainees or trusted agency employees, handpicked for their discretion and physique—were summoned to the private suite on the top floor of the EDAM building, a space reserved exclusively for these meetings. The place was luxurious, with dark walls, a king-size bed covered in black silk sheets, and soft candlelight that created an air of mystery. IU, who spent her days as the flawless star rehearsing choreography or filming commercials, would transform herself the moment she walked through the door of that room. From the moment the young men arrived, she became the “chosen star” of the ritual—or, as they whispered to her, their “slave.”

On that particular night, IU was already in the room, her heart pounding as she adjusted the outfit she had chosen for the ritual: a black body-hugging dress with a plunging neckline and a high slit that revealed her thighs, with nothing underneath for easy access. Her brown hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and her lips, painted a dark red, contrasted with her pale skin. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, taking a deep breath as she heard the footsteps approaching down the hallway. There were five boys this time, all young and eager, selected by herself after a week of observation in the agency's hallways.

A mischievous smile crossed her face, and she felt the familiar shiver of anticipation run up her spine. The adrenaline of giving herself completely, of being used and desired without limits, was something that made her feel alive in a way that the stage never could.

The door opened with a soft click, and IU turned slowly, her eyes shining with a mixture of power and submission. The five boys entered, stopping at the threshold when they saw her. There was Tae-min, a 22-year-old trainee with defined muscles and a shy look; Joon-ho, a 25-year-old production assistant with a confident smile; Min-seok, a 24-year-old backup dancer with tattoos running up his arm; Hyun-woo, a 21-year-old intern who looked nervous; and Seung-jin, a 27-year-old security guard with an imposing presence. They all stared at her, the tension in the air palpable as they waited for the signal to begin.

“Good evening, boys,” IU said, her voice sweet but filled with dark promise. She stepped forward, hips swaying, and let her dress slide a little further down her thigh. “You were chosen because I know you can give me what I want. From now on, I am yours.” She paused, her eyes roving over each of them, and then, with a smile, she slowly knelt in the center of the room, her hands clasped behind her back in a gesture of surrender. “I am ready.”

IU knelt in the center of the room, her skintight black dress now riding up her thighs as the five boys surrounded her, their eyes shining with a mixture of desire and power. Tae-min, the muscular trainee, was the first to break the silence, his voice echoing with a tone of awe and teasing. “Finally, the Queen shows her true colors!” he shouted, laughing as he approached, the others following like a hungry pack.

Joon-ho, the production assistant, a large man with enormous hands, was the first to touch, his calloused palms sliding down the plunging neckline of IU’s dress until they reached her magnificent breasts. “Holy shit, look at that,” he murmured, his eyes wide with wonder as he cupped her breasts in both hands, his thumbs pinching her nipples hard. IU twisted her body, gasping loudly at the relentless treatment, the shiver of pain mixing with the pleasure that was beginning to pulse in her core. "Joon-ho, you're impressed, huh?" Min-seok, the tattooed dancer, scoffed, laughing as he watched the scene, already rubbing his own pants.

"Impressed? Those tits are fucking fabulous!" Joon-ho replied, pinching her nipples even harder, eliciting a high-pitched moan from IU. "Look at her moaning, this bitch loves it!" He continued to grope her mercilessly, her breasts bouncing beneath his large hands as the others moved closer, drawn in by the sight.

Soon, everyone else joined in on the fun. Tae-min was next, pushing Joon-ho aside with a "My turn, man!" and grabbing IU's breasts with feverish intensity, his smaller but equally cruel hands pinching and fondling. "Fuck, they're so soft," he muttered, as Min-seok knelt beside him, his tattooed hands groping her left breast. "Let me feel them too!" he said, laughing as he twisted her nipple hard, causing IU to arch her back and let out a muffled cry. Hyun-woo, the nervous intern, hesitated for a moment before joining in, his trembling hands caressing her other breast. “I… I’ve never touched anything like this,” he stammered, while Seung-jin, the imposing security guard, laughed out loud. “Then enjoy it, boy, because she’s ours today!”

IU’s breasts were now the target of a relentless assault, worked over hard by an ever-changing set of hands. One by one, the boys took turns groping, pinching, and fondling her bouncing breasts, her nipples now red and swollen from the abuse. “Look at them jiggle, this bitch is loving it!” Tae-min teased, slapping one breast lightly, the sound echoing in the room as IU moaned softly, her body shaking with conflicting sensations.

But the caresses didn’t stop at her breasts. Min-seok, with a sly smile, slid his hands under IU's miniskirt, his fingers finding her two most sensitive orifices. "No panties, huh? You were ready for us already," he mocked, rubbing her clit with his thumb as he thrust two fingers into her slick cunt. "Fuck, she's soaking wet!" he exclaimed, as Joon-ho laughed, pinching her nipples harder. "Of course she is, she's a little slut who loves to be used!"

IU couldn't keep up with all the sordid sensations coursing through her. It was a cacophony of pleasure and pain—so many wandering hands and fingers groping her, rubbing her clit, playing with her pussy and asshole, and she simply couldn't process it all. As Min-seok thrust a thick finger deep into her pussy, another finger from Tae-min replaced the first, and before she could register the change, Seung-jin thrust a third finger, all three competing inside her. "Look how tight she is, that pussy is so fucking greedy!" Seung-jin grunted, while IU moaned loudly, her body writhing under the onslaught.

Suddenly, she heard and felt the sound of fabric being ripped. Hyun-woo, bolder now, grabbed the collar of her dress and pulled hard, ripping it to shreds. "Take that shit off, I want her naked!" he exclaimed, and the others laughed, helping to rip off the rest of the dress. "That's it, leave her with nothing!" until IU's clothes were in tattered shreds on the floor. She let out a low moan, her voice thick with desperation and excitement. “You guys… you guys tore it up,” she muttered, her eyes wide as she realized how quickly things had escalated. There was no shirt, no panties, no skirt—just her, naked, surrounded by five horny men.

IU looked around, panic mixed with lust as she took in the boys’ bodies. They all had impressive physiques—toned six-packs, huge pecs, thick, muscular arms. She knew any one of them could easily overpower her, and fighting back would be nearly impossible. “Jesus, did you feel those amazing tits, Franklin?” Min-seok asked, using a nickname for Tae-min, who laughed out loud as he groped her breasts harder. “Of course, man! They’re so fucking fabulous!” he replied, his eyes shining with desire.

“Man, I’m going to have to eat this slut’s pussy first!” Seung-jin interjected, his voice deep as he thrust two fingers into her pussy, his movements fast and relentless. The guys all laughed loudly, the sexual tension in the room rising as IU writhed in his lewd hands.

"Fuck! I can't wait to fuck that slut's sweet pussy!" Min-seok said, shoving another finger into her swollen cunt, competing with the other fingers already filling her. "Watch her squeeze my fingers—I bet it'll feel even better with my cock!" He picked up the pace, finger-fucking her at breakneck speed as Hyun-woo shoved two fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste his own sex. "Suck it, you little slut, lick the taste out of your pussy!" he ordered, and IU obeyed, moaning around his fingers as the salty taste invaded her.

“Yeah, we’re going to fuck this slut real good today!” Seung-jin added, laughing as he pointed to the massive erection forming in his pants. “Think you can handle us, you dirty little slut?!” IU tried to respond, but the fingers in her mouth prevented her, and all that came out was a muffled moan of desperation and desire. Alarmed, she looked down, her eyes darting around like a startled deer, and was surprised by the thick erections they all sported inside their pants. Even as she squirmed in vain under the vaginal assault, she could see the tumescent outlines of each hard cock, and fear mixed with arousal—events were quickly spiraling out of control.

Tae-min slapped her spectacular ass hard, the sound reverberating loudly in the room. “Oh, I’m IU, Korea’s hot slut!!” he scoffed, mimicking her voice horribly, and the others laughed, agreeing with the clear consensus on their faces. "Shit, baby! We're going to fuck you real good!!" Min-seok scoffed, while Joon-ho added, "Your sweet pussy is going to get fucked by our huge cocks!"

Meanwhile, Seung-jin slid his fingers into IU's tight asshole, forcing his way through that incredibly tight opening. "Let's open that asshole too, what do you think?" he teased, slipping a thick finger in and sliding it deeper. Even with three fingers in her mouth, IU managed to let out a muffled, stomach-churning scream, her body stiffening at the anal intrusion. Up until now, they had only teased the outer rim of her pretty asshole, but now Seung-jin was determined, his finger moving deeper and deeper as she trembled, panic and pleasure colliding in her mind.

IU trembled in the center of the room, her naked body exposed, her skin glistening with sweat as the five boys surrounded her, their hands still exploring every inch of her. Seung-jin, with his thick finger buried in her tight asshole, chuckled softly as he watched her stiffen, her muffled scream echoing even with Hyun-woo's fingers in her mouth. "Look how tight she is back there, this bitch is going to suffer with my cock!" he teased, sliding his finger deeper, which made IU arch her back, her eyes wide with panic and pleasure.

Hyun-woo finally removed his fingers from her mouth, wiping the saliva on her face with a sadistic smile. "Tell me, you little slut, what do you think about this?" he asked, and IU, panting, managed to answer, her voice hoarse and shaky. "Fuck, you guys are cruel… but I want more, fuck me already!" she begged, her eyes shining with a mix of desperation and lust, nymphomania taking over as she gave herself over to the ritual.

Tae-min laughed loudly, giving her ass another hard slap, the sound reverberating in the room. "Do you hear that, boys? The Queen wants to be fucked!" he exclaimed, while the others laughed, already undoing their pants. "Then let's give her what she wants," Joon-ho said, positioning himself behind her and lining up his thick cock against IU's soaking wet pussy. "Take it, you slut!" he grunted, thrusting hard, the initial penetration eliciting a loud scream from her. "Fuck, it's too big!" IU exclaimed, her body shaking as he began to fuck her with brutal thrusts, each movement making her bounce forward.

Min-seok wasted no time, climbing in front of her and grabbing her hair tightly. "Open your mouth, you slut," he ordered, pushing his cock against her lips. IU obeyed, swallowing him hard, her lips stretched around his thick shaft as he fucked her throat mercilessly. "Fuck, what a delicious mouth!" Min-seok groaned, holding her head with both hands as IU gagged, saliva dripping down her chin. "Fuck my mouth harder, you son of a bitch!" she managed to choke out between gasps, her voice muffled but full of urgency, which made the others laugh.

Seung-jin, still fixated on her asshole, decided it was time to move on to more than just his fingers. "I'm tired of playing, I'm going to open that ass now," he said, spitting on his cock to lube it up before lining it up against her tight entrance. "No, wait, this is going to hurt like hell!" IU screamed, panic evident in her voice, but her lust betrayed her, and she thrust her ass up instinctively, as if begging for more. “You want this, you slut, don’t lie!” Seung-jin sneered, thrusting slowly, the initial pressure making her cry out again, her body shaking as he forced his way inside, inch by inch.

“Fuck, she's squeezing me too hard!” Seung-jin grunted, starting to move, the thrusts slow but relentless as Joon-ho continued to fuck her pussy in sync. IU was overwhelmed, her body caught in a maelstrom of sensations - the stabbing pain of her ass being split open, the raw pleasure of her pussy being filled, and the humiliation of having her throat fucked by Min-seok. “You… you're going to destroy me!” she gasped, tears streaming down her face as her makeup smudged, but her tone was one of ecstasy, not fear. “Destroy me then, I can take it, you bastards!” she screamed, her voice hoarse and full of desire.

Tae-min and Hyun-woo, who until then had been masturbating off to the side, decided to join in the action. Tae-min knelt beside her, rubbing his cock against her breasts, which jiggled with each thrust from Joon-ho and Seung-jin. “Fuck, I told you I was going to use those tits!” he exclaimed, squeezing them around his cock and starting to move, the friction drawing moans from him. “Look how perfect they are, this bitch was made for it!” Hyun-woo, more timid, approached from the other side, pinching her nipples hard. “Moan louder, you slut, I want to hear you scream!” he said, and IU obeyed, the moans turning into muffled cries as Min-seok still fucked her mouth.

“You're animals, fuck me harder!” IU begged, her voice rasping as she tried to breathe between the thrusts into her throat. “I'm about to come, fill me up, please!” she screamed, her body trembling on the verge of collapse. Joon-ho laughed, speeding up his thrusts into her pussy. “Are you asking to be filled, you slut? Then take it!” he grunted, cumming inside her with a roar, the heat exploding in her pussy as she moaned loudly, her legs shaking with pleasure.

Seung-jin followed soon after, cumming in her ass with a “Fuck, that's delicious!” as he pulled out, his cum running down her thighs and mixing with Joon-ho's. Min-seok pulled himself out of her mouth and came on her face, covering her with hot jets that mixed with tears and saliva. “Take it, you little slut, swallow it all!” he ordered, and IU licked her lips, the salty taste making her moan. “More, I want more!” she begged, her voice weak but full of desire, as Tae-min and Hyun-woo came on her breasts, licking her even more.

IU collapsed on the floor, her body covered in cum, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, but a naughty smile on her lips. “You… you're incredible,” she muttered, panting, as she tried to catch her breath. “But it's not over, is it? I can take more, fuck me again!” she said, laughing quietly, her nymphomania driving her to beg for more, even after being pushed to the limit.

The room on the top floor of EDAM Entertainment was silent now, except for the sound of the heavy breathing of the five guys, who were slowly pulling themselves together after the wild gangbang. IU was still on the floor, her body covered in sweat and cum, her brown hair stuck to her forehead, and her breasts and thighs stained with the marks of the chaotic pleasure she had just experienced. Her lips, still red from the lipstick that had resisted the attack, formed a satisfied smile, and her eyes, although tired, shone with a mixture of ecstasy and power. She had been pushed to the limit - and loved every second of it. Tae-min, Joon-ho, Min-seok, Hyun-woo and Seung-jin looked at each other, still stunned by IU's transformation. The star they had seen on stage, with her angelic voice and delicate aura, had become an insatiable nymphomaniac in front of them, and the contrast left them speechless. “Fuck, she's… unbelievable,” muttered Min-seok, wiping the sweat from his brow as he buttoned his pants. “I knew she was naughty, but this was another level,” Joon-ho added, laughing lowly as he stood up, his legs still shaking.

IU, with a low groan, finally moved, getting up slowly from the sticky floor. “You were great, guys,” she said, her voice hoarse but carrying a sweet tone that reminded IU of the public, as if she were thanking a team after a recording. She walked to the en suite bathroom, hips swaying with a natural confidence, and the sound of running water soon filled the space as she took a quick shower. Under the hot spray, she washed the cum and sweat from her body, her fingers sliding over the sensitive skin as she mentally relived every moment of the ritual. A mischievous smile crossed her face - she loved the power she felt when organizing these encounters, and even more the freedom to give herself completely during them.

When she reappeared, wrapped in a soft black towel, she looked almost untouched. Her wet hair fell in soft waves, the smudged make-up had been removed, and a fresh glow illuminated her face. She reached into a bag in the corner of the room and took out a spare dress that she always brought for these occasions - a simple but elegant nude-colored model that hugged her curves with discretion. She put it on calmly, adjusting it in the mirror while the boys watched her in silence, still sitting or standing around the room, their clothes crumpled and their faces marked by exhaustion.

“You know that's between us, right?” IU said, turning to them with a smile that was both sweet and menacing. “If one word of this gets out, you know what happens.” Her voice was light, almost playful, but the tone carried an unquestionable authority. Tae-min nodded quickly, swallowing. “Of course, IU-ssi, we won't say anything,” he assured her, and the others murmured their agreement, still mesmerized by her.

She picked up her bag, tossed her hair aside and took one last look around the room - the messy sheets, the torn pieces of her previous dress scattered on the floor, and the smell of sex still permeating the air. “It was a fun evening,” she said, her tone casual, as if she were talking about a dinner with friends. “But now I have an early morning rehearsal, so I'll be going. Don't forget to clean up before you leave, huh?” She winked, laughing lowly, and walked out the door, her confident footsteps echoing in the hallway as she headed down to the private elevator.

On the way home, IU opened the car window, letting the cool Seoul night air caress her face. She pulled out her cell phone, checking her schedule for the next day - a shoot for a commercial, a photo shoot, and a rehearsal for her next single. No one who saw her tomorrow, smiling for the cameras with her angelic aura, could imagine what had happened in that suite. And that's exactly how she liked it. The “comfort system” was her secret, her escape valve, and she was already looking forward to the next month, wondering who would be the next to join the ritual - and how far she could take them.

[insidekatmind]

Gym instructor~Wi Ha-joon

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The sound of weights hitting each other echoes through the gym, accompanied by the low hum of cardio machines and the labored breathing of those working out. The air smells of sweat and determination, but most of all of him.

Wi Ha Joon.

He’s been your personal trainer for a few months now, and every time you work out under his watchful eye, your heartbeat accelerates, but not from fatigue. It’s from the way he watches you, his dark eyes studying you with an almost imperceptible hunger. His presence is a magnet, a shadow that follows you to every corner of the gym.

Today is one of those days when you feel particularly tired, but he’s there, ready to motivate you.

“Come on, you can do this,” he says in a low, deep voice, settling down next to you as you attempt another exercise. “Just one more.”

His hands rest on your hips to correct your posture, and the touch makes you jump slightly. It shouldn’t be this intimate, yet you can’t move. You feel trapped between the weight of the exercise and his suffocating closeness.

“You’re strong,” he murmurs next to your ear. “I like seeing how hard you work.”

You hold your breath, trying to ignore the way his tone seems to hide something deeper, darker. But when you finish the set of the exercise, you feel his fingers slowly slide up your arm, pausing for a moment on your wrist. His touch is fleeting, almost as if he’s testing your reaction.

“You’re tense,” he comments, a hint of a smile. “Do you want me to help you loosen up?”

You nod without thinking too much, still confused by the effort. He’s waiting for nothing else. He leads you to a more secluded room in the gym, the one reserved for stretching and post-workout massages. The place is almost empty, only the dim lights and the silence between the two of you.

“Lie down,” he says, his command heavy enough to make your hands shake. You obey, stretching out on the mat as he kneels beside you. His large hands begin to press gently into your muscles, releasing tension with expert movements.

But something changes.

The massage slows, his fingers sliding into places that have nothing to do with muscle tension. His breathing deepens, and you realize too late that the distance between your bodies is almost nonexistent.

“You train so hard…” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper against your skin. “Sometimes I wonder if anyone cares for you outside of

You hold your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as his fingers trace a slow path up your spine. You want to stand up, you want to say something, but your body feels stuck, trapped between the subtle pleasure of his touch and the fear that gnaws at your stomach.

He notices your breath hitching, and his touch becomes more deliberate, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His breath fans across your skin, warm and intoxicating.

"You're so tense," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "I can feel it in every muscle."

He shifts closer, his chest now pressed against your back, his body heat enveloping you. You can feel his heart racing, just as fast as yours.

Your mind is spinning, a whirlwind of feelings you've never experienced before. His touch is soft yet possessive, his voice a velvet trap. He continues to use his fingers to trace slow, languid circles over your back, his hands moving with a confidence that borders on arrogance.

"You should let yourself go," he murmurs, his mouth now close to your ear. His breath tickles the sensitive skin in a way that's both intimate and infuriating. "You're too tense for your own good."

He presses his body against yours, his chest now flush against your back, his hands moving down to your hips. He grips them firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place.

"Let me help you relax," he whispers, his lips hovering just above your earlobe. "You need it."

He turns his head slightly, and you feel the soft brush of his hair against your neck. His lips are so close, you can almost feel them on your skin.

"You're so... beautiful," he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of awe.

You're frozen in place, your mind swimming in a whirlwind of sensations. His firm grip on your hips feels almost primal, like he's claiming you. His voice in your ear is a sinful whisper that makes your body tremble.

"I've been watching you for so long," he whispers, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "You have no idea what your body does to me."

Your breath catches in your throat as his lips drift lower, tracing a path down your neck. His touch is becoming less subtle, more demanding. His hands move, sliding under the fabric of your top, inching up your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Can you feel it?" he murmurs, his lips now against the exposed skin of your shoulder. "How much I want you? How much I've always wanted you."

He presses his body even closer to yours, his chest now flush against your back, his legs trapping you in place. His hands continue to roam over your skin, his touch possessive and almost desperate.

"I've watched you, every time you come to the gym," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "I've seen the way you move, the way you struggle, the way you pant."

His fingers slide under the edge of your bra, his touch lingering on your bare skin.

"I can't take it anymore," he confesses, his voice rough with need. "I want you. I need you."

You're completely enveloped by him, his body surrounding you, his touch searing through your senses. Your breathing is laboured, your body responding to his every touch with a heady mix of desire and fear. His words, his touch, everything about him is overwhelming, intoxicating.

"I can't deny it anymore," he whispers, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. "I want to taste you, to mark you as mine."

“Ha-joon,” you tried to say.

He freezes for a moment, his body tensing against yours. He seems to relish in the sound of his name leaving your lips. He presses himself even closer, his hands gripping you almost possessively.

"Say it again," he demands, his voice hoarse with need. "Say my name again."You hesitate, your mind hazy with desire. You can feel him everywhere, every inch of your body hyper-aware of his presence. Finally, you surrender, his name leaving your lips in a needy whisper.

"Ha-joon."

The sound seems to ignite something primitive within him. He lets out a guttural moan, his hands roaming over your body with feverish intensity.

He wastes no time in undressing you both, his hands moving with practiced ease. As soon as he's finished, he pushes you down onto the mat, his body covering yours.

He presses himself against you, his erection grinding against your chest. He lets out a low groan, his hands roaming over your body, touching and exploring every inch of you.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmurs, his voice a mixture of need and frustration. "How long I've been imagining this moment."

You're overwhelmed by his need, unable to do anything but surrender to him. He's everywhere, surrounding you with his presence, his touch setting your skin on fire. His body is hard and unyielding against yours, his hands roaming over you with an intensity that's bordering on possessive.

His lips find yours, his kiss rough and desperate, his tongue plunging into your mouth. He takes control, his body pinning you down, leaving you helpless to do anything but surrender.

He moves down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin, leaving behind a trail of marks.

He captures your lips again, his kiss becoming more demanding, more possessive. His hips grind against you, his erection pressing against your stomach, demanding attention.

He breaks the kiss again, panting against your lips. "Say it," he demands, his eyes locking onto yours. "Say you're mine."

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire and need, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

You're lost in the abyss of desire, your mind foggy with need. The only thing you can focus on is him, his body, his touch, his words.

"I'm yours," you whisper, your voice a needy pant. "Completely, utterly, yours."

He growls at those words, his eyes darkening even further. He leans down, his mouth trailing down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

"Say it again," he demands, his voice hoarse with need. "Say that you belong to me."

You comply, your voice a needy, desperate plea. "I belong to you," you gasp, your body arching against his.

He smirks at that, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He captures your lips once again, his kiss hard and possessive.

He devours your lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth, claiming you in a way that's both primal and possessive.

He breaks the kiss, pulling away just enough to look at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face.

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice rough with satisfaction. "You're so good for me."

He moves down your body, trailing kisses and bites along your skin, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. He pauses at your chest, his lips hovering over one of your nipples.

You arch your back, your body responding to his touch with a need that's primitive and unstoppable. His tongue darts out, circling your nipple before taking it into his mouth. You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Ha-joon," you breathe, your voice a needy pant. "Please... I need you."

He responds, his mouth leaving your nipple with a wet pop, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

"You'll have me," he whispers, his voice low and rough. "But first, I want to taste every inch of you."

He positions himself on top of you, straddling your face.He puts his cock in your mouth. He leans down, his mouth hovering over your pussy, his breath hot against your skin.

"Hold on tight," he says, his voice a mixture of teasing and command. "This is going to be a bit intense."

With that, he lowers his head, his tongue darting out to taste you. He starts by licking and sucking at your clit, his tongue moving in circles around the sensitive bud.

You wrap your lips around his cock, sucking and licking as he does the same to you. The feeling of his tongue on your clit is almost too much to handle, and you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each passing moment.

He moans against your pussy, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through your body. He flicks his tongue over your clit, teasing and tasting you in a way that's both intoxicating and maddening.

It's a game of domination and submission. You both take and give in equal measure, the cycle of taking and giving creating a whirlwind of sensations you have never experienced. You're lost in the abyss of pleasure, your body belonging to him completely.The game of domination and submission continues, the two of you giving and taking in equal measure. Every time he teases and licks your clit, you moan around his cock, sending waves of pleasure through him.

He can feel you getting closer to the edge, your body trembling beneath him. He moves his tongue faster, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you in place.

The sensations are too much, your mind a swirling vortex of desire and need. He knows it, he can feel it in the way your body trembles and shivers with each passing moment.

Ha-joon moves his hips roughly to fuck your mouth.

He can feel your body trembling beneath him, the way your mouth and tongue work against his cock, driving him closer to the edge.

He thrusts his hips roughly, using your mouth and tongue to his advantage. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his fingers gripping your thighs so hard that they're sure to leave marks.

"That's it," he gasps, his voice strained. "You're so good for me, taking me so well."

His words are both a praise and a command, adding fuel to the fire burning within you. But there's something else there, a hint of something darker, something possessive. It's like he's claiming you in the most intimate way possible, using your body to assert his dominance. You're his, completely and utterly.

His words only serve to fuel the fire inside you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You can feel his body tensing above you, his hips moving faster and faster, his grip on your thighs almost bruising.

He lets out a low growl, his breath ragged and heavy. "I'm so close," he gasps, his voice strained. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop."

Ha-joon continues to suck your clit like a hungry man while slamming his cock ever harder into your mouth.

The sensation is almost too much to handle, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm. You wrap your lips around him tighter, sucking harder, wanting to give him everything he needs.

He can feel your body clenching around him, and it pushes him closer to the edge. He thrusts into your mouth one last time, his hips bucking against you, his body tensing as he comes with a low moan.

His moans against your clit are like a symphony of pleasure, sending shockwaves of sensation through your body. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the sound of his voice alone almost enough to push you over the edge.

He continues to thrust into your mouth, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He continues to thrust into your mouth, each movement sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, and it only fuels his own desire.

Ha joon continues to tease your g-spot.

The sensations are all too overwhelming, and you realize that words to be exchanged between you, but actions, actions is all you can share now. The only thing that matters, him, you, and the waves of ecstasy washing over your bodies.You feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. You can't speak, can't form words, can only moan and whimper around his cock, your body begging for release.

He can feel your desperation, your need, and he responds by thrusting harder, his grip on your thighs tightening. He knows he's pushing you to the limit, but he wants to see you come apart completely.

You arch your back, your body begging for release. You feel like you're dangling over a precipice, teetering on the edge, ready to fall into a spiral of ecstasy.

The sensations are too much to handle, too much to describe, too much to take. You're lost in the vortex of desire, drowning in the overwhelming sensations his touch and his voice bring to you.

You come hard, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You can feel his release on your tongue, his taste filling your mouth as he groans in pleasure.

He continues to thrust into your mouth, riding out the last waves of his orgasm, his body shuddering against yours.

As the sensations subsided, you both collapse beside each other in a tangle of limbs, both of you covered in a sheen of sweat, breathless and spent.

He pulls you close, his arms wrapped around you possessively, the need to claim and own you still lingering in his every touch.

[vanilladollette]

Hey girl wassup, can you write about sweet female reader, with (all the characters if that's okay for u, if no, then jae Joon)

Female reader who is friends with Dong Eun and she had no idea that burns were from the bullies, and didn't know that jae Joon was apart of the incident, and when Dong exposes jae Joon, female reader goes from sweet to cold towards Jae Joon and breaks up with him, and lends him to be yandere.

(ALSO GIRL I WANNA SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR THE GLORY X READER ON, WATTPAD ♡ )

The Sweetest Poison

Pairing: Yandere Jeon Jae-Joon x Fem! Sweet Reader

Word count: 1.75k

Summary:After learning you left him upon discovering his past as your best friend's bully, Jae-Joon's heartbreak twists into a dangerous obsession.

Warnings: Bullying, Burns, toxic, violent behavior, cursing

A/n: I'm glad that you like Beneath The Surface!!! This took me awhile to write but thank you for being patient with me. Anyways, I hope you like this!

You couldn’t believe it, even as you replayed her words in your head. The signs were all there, and yet somehow, you’d missed them. How could you have missed something like that?

When Moon Dong-eun, your friend from high school, had contacted you, you were thrilled. It had been years since you’d last seen her. Her message had been brief, almost cryptic, saying she needed to talk about something important in person. Curious and eager, you’d agreed to meet her at a quiet café downtown.

As you approached the agreed-upon spot, you saw her sitting alone at a corner table. Dong-eun looked different but not unrecognizable. Her posture was composed, her expression serene yet distant, like someone who had seen too much and learned to mask it well. You felt a pang of nostalgia as memories of the once cheerful, soft-spoken girl from high school resurfaced.

“Dong-eun!” you greeted warmly, sliding into the seat across from her. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

Her smile was faint but sincere. “Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you.” Her voice had a weight to it, as though each word carried unspoken emotions.

The two of you exchanged pleasantries. You told her how you’d thought about her over the years, wondering where she’d gone and what had happened after she left school. You mentioned how devastated you were when you found her house empty, with no way to contact her.

“I’ve been well,” she said, her tone polite but guarded. “After leaving school, I went to college to study education. I’m a teacher now.”

“Wow, that’s wonderful!” you exclaimed, genuinely impressed. “I wouldn’t have guessed you wanted to be a teacher back then.”

“What about you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “How have you been?”

You gave a small laugh. “Oh, nothing as exciting as becoming a teacher, that’s for sure. Just working and… you know, living life.”

As the conversation lingered, you couldn’t help but feel there was something unsaid, something heavier lurking beneath her calm demeanor. Finally, you decided to ask.

“Anyway,” you began, leaning forward slightly, “what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Dong-eun hesitated, her fingers curling around the edge of her cup. Her gaze flickered downward for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was soft but deliberate.

“You know,” she said, almost wistfully, “I always wondered how someone as kind as you could be so close to him.”

Her words caught you off guard. Him? You blinked, your head tilting in confusion. “Who are you talking about?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her eyes met yours, searching your face as though gauging your reaction. Finally, she asked, “Do you know why I dropped out of high school?”

You nodded slowly. “You were being bullied. I assumed that was the reason… that you didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Yes,” she confirmed, her voice steady. “But I never told you who my bullies were.”

A chill ran down your spine. Something in her tone made your stomach knot. You stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

She took a deep breath, her fingers now toying with the hem of her sleeve. “One of them was Jae-joon,” she said finally, her words landing like a thunderclap. “He was one of them.”

Your breath caught. Jae-joon? You stared at her, your mind racing. Jae-joon, the same person you’d been close to all these years? The same person you’d trusted, laughed with, maybe even defended? The shock on your face must have been evident, because Dong-eun gave a sad, knowing smile.

“I’m guessing he never told you,” she said, her voice tinged with resignation. “I didn’t think he would. Why would he admit something like that to you?”

You were at a loss for words. Memories of Jae-joon flooded your mind—his easy smile, his charm, the way he always seemed so confident. You couldn’t reconcile the image of him with what Dong-eun was telling you. But then you thought about her, about how she’d suddenly vanished from your life, leaving no trace. And you realized… maybe you’d never really known Jae-joon as well as you thought.

“I’m sorry you had to find out from me,” Dong-eun said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft but firm, her gaze unwavering.

You shook your head quickly, trying to process everything. “No… I—I needed to know.” Your voice trembled, and you suddenly felt a lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, but I… I have to go.”

Without waiting for her response, you grabbed your bag and stood. Your legs felt unsteady as you walked out of the café, the weight of her revelation pressing down on you like a heavy fog. As you stepped into the cold air, one question echoed in your mind: How had you missed it?

“Y/n, I’m home!” Jae-Joon called out from the entrance of your shared home, his voice echoing through the quiet space. The late hour clung to him like a shadow, exhaustion evident in the way he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair.

“Y/n?” he called again, his tone softening slightly when no response came.

He moved through the house, his footsteps muffled on the carpet as he checked the usual places you might be. The kitchen was empty, the living room undisturbed. A flicker of unease settled in his chest as he made his way toward the bedroom.

Pushing the door open slowly, Jae-Joon’s eyes landed on your still figure lying on the bed, your back facing him. Relief warred with apprehension as he stepped closer, his voice low and uncertain.

“Y/n?”

When you didn’t stir, he perched cautiously on the edge of the bed beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His hand found your hip, a gesture meant to bridge the growing distance he felt between you. For a moment, he said nothing, unsure how to break the silence that had thickened between you lately.

“How was your day?” he finally asked, his voice tentative.

“Fine,” you replied curtly, your tone as cold as the wall you stared at.

Jae-Joon’s shoulders sagged under the weight of your indifference. The silence returned, heavier than before. Sighing, he rose and left the room to prepare for bed, the unspoken words hanging in the air like ghosts.

The next morning, Jae-Joon woke to find the bed empty. He blinked at the sunlight filtering through the curtains, assuming you were already up. The faint clink of dishes guided him to the kitchen, where he found you seated at the table with a bowl of untouched cereal in front of you. Your gaze was fixed on some indiscernible point ahead, your posture rigid.

“Morning,” he greeted, though the lightness in his tone faltered when you didn’t respond. Shrugging it off, he began rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat.

“When were you going to tell me that you gave Dong-eun those burns?”

Your voice cut through the stillness. Jae-Joon froze, his hand hovering over the coffee pot. Slowly, he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of confusion and unease.

“What?” he managed, his voice strained.

“Or were you just hoping I’d never find out?” Your voice trembled, though your eyes remained fixed ahead.

Jae-Joon’s throat tightened. “Who told you? Did Dong-eun tell you?” He approached the table, his movements deliberate.

“Answer my question,” you snapped, finally meeting his gaze. Your red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks were like a punch to his gut. “Were you ever planning to tell me, Jae-Joon? Or did you think you could hide the fact that you were my best friend’s bully?”

His jaw clenched as anger flared in his eyes, a defense mechanism against the guilt clawing at him. “What did she tell you?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“Why are you so worried about what she said? Is it because it’s true?” you shot back, standing up abruptly.

The two of you locked eyes, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. You didn’t wait for his response. Turning on your heel, you strode toward the bedroom.

Jae-Joon followed close behind, his stomach twisting as he watched you yank a suitcase from the closet and toss it onto the bed. His heart sank further with every article of clothing you packed.

“Wait, what are you doing?” His voice cracked, the panic unmistakable.

“I’m done, Jae-Joon,” you said, your voice rising. “We’re over.” You zipped the suitcase with trembling hands, refusing to look at him.

“Y/n, wait!” He grabbed your wrist as you made for the door, his grip firm but not forceful. “Let’s talk about this. Please.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You wrenched your arm free, your voice breaking.

Jae-Joon stood frozen as you walked out the door, the sound of your suitcase wheels scraping against the floor a bitter reminder of your departure. The silence that followed was deafening.

“FUCK!” The scream tore from his throat as he hurled a lamp across the room, the crash doing little to ease the storm raging inside him.

Grabbing his phone, he scrolled furiously through his messages until he found Dong-eun’s number. His hands shook as he hit the call button, the phone pressed tightly to his ear.

After several rings, her voice came through, calm and composed. “Hello?”

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?” he roared, his voice laced with fury.

“Simply the truth,” Dong-eun replied coldly.

“Because of you, Y/n left me!” His voice cracked, the admission spilling out like a wound reopening.

“Did you really think she wouldn’t find out, Jae-Joon?” Dong-eun’s voice was unyielding. “She deserved to know.”

He ended the call abruptly, hurling his phone across the room. Chest heaving, he sank onto the bed, his head in his hands.

Jae-Joon sat on the edge of the bed, his breathing ragged as the room fell silent. His hands shook. You were his—his light, his purpose, his everything.

You leaving wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. He’d make you see that. He’d make you come back to him, no matter what it took.

A smile—a chilling, empty smile—spread across his face. You weren’t responding now, but that was fine. He didn’t need words. He knew where you were. He’d find you.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost tender. “You’ll understand soon, Y/n. We’re meant to be.”

His heart pounded with renewed determination as he got up, his mind racing with plans. You belonged to him, and nothing would change that.

Nothing.

Taglist: @petersasteria

[luvlyfandoms]

HI HI can you do hc's of gyeongsu, woo-jin and joon-yeong with teasing and flirty reader who lowkey wants to fuck alot ? Love ur writinggg

Gyeong-su

• MY SHAYLAAAA

• he hates it when you tease him

• makes him whiny and pouty

• but he’ll definitely tease you back

• and he definitely doesn’t complain about your high sex drive

• y’all have quickies in the janitor’s closet

• “shh, be quiet or someone will catch us” he tells you while he kisses your neck and slides his hand under your skirt

Woo-jin

• MY SHAYLAAAA

• smug and sarcastic

• will deprive you of sex if you’re a brat

• “your teasing doesn’t work on me”

• “better stop or I won’t fuck you”

• pulls you into the bathroom

• takes you into a stall and fucks you quick before anyone else comes in

Joon-yeong

• MY SHAYLAAAA

• you whisper in his ear while sitting next to him in class

• he looks over at you as he shifts in his seat, shaking his head “shhh, pay attention”

• you place your hand on his thigh and feel him tense up while trying to keep his eyes forward

• after class you take his hand and pull him to an empty room, locking the door behind you

• he pushes you against the wall and lets his hands roam while y’all kiss

• he drops to his knees and pushes your skirt up while looking up at you and adjusting his glasses

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Seventeen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 25.k (👹)

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

My laptop is going to burst in flames after this LMAO. HIII besties! Welcome to the angst train of Chapter Seventeen! Hold onto your hats because there are a lot of emotions going on in this update. Along with angst, we have fluff to balance it out, of course! Expect spooky/scary paranormal happenings, and dirty disgusting smut I have to stop writing when I ovulate BUT I sincerely hope you all love this extra long, on time (for once!) chapter! Love from Dana and can't wait to hear what you all think 💕

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Blinking, not sure if she heard correctly, Y/N sat unceremoniously on Namjoon’s arm rest, nudging his hand off the laptop keyboard. Pressing the back button and slamming down on the space bar, she moved before Namjoon could stop her. 

“Y/N–”

“To kill you, whorish witch.” Came from the speakers again, making Namjoon flinch and grunt, like the statement was disgusting in his ears. She played it a third time, then a forth, Namjoon uncomfortably squirming beside her. About to listen a fifth, Namjoon swore, placing a hand over hers and pulling it away from the laptop.

“That’s enough,” the wolf hybrid said gently, eyes scanning her face, searching Y/N’s blank expression thoroughly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, I really didn’t want to show you.”

“Jeongguk was right to tell you to. Now I know that I’m going to have to bulk up on my protection magic,” Y/N responded distantly, honestly still shocked by what the entity said to her. It was something her brain didn’t necessarily know how to process– that an unseen force had a murderous intent towards her. Namjoon, making a feral noise in the back of his throat, narrowed his eyes. 

“Y/N, I’m not saying I doubt your abilities, but this feels wrong. I don’t think you should go back to that house. If you write up a ritual for us to do, we can execute it together and you’ll be here, safe,” Namjoon shook his head as he spoke, ears flat against his skull. Y/N’s eyes went wide, caught between swooning and stiffening. 

“You want to kick me off the case? No way, absolutely not, especially after hearing that recording. I’d walk into traffic before letting you two go there alone,” Y/N watched a muscle in Namjoon’s jaw tick, sucking his cheeks in and leveling her a challenging look. “I’m going. This changes nothing but how urgently we need to cleanse the property.”

“Y/N, it’s a bad idea. Jeongguk is experienced with shit like this,” Namjoon pressed, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “We both want to do another investigation before we decide how to tackle getting rid of the infestation.”

“I don’t care, Namjoon, I’m going to be with you every step in this case. You can’t get rid of me,” Y/N stood, annoyed, and feeling undermined, she walked over to the bookcase in his room.

Sliding a finger along the spines of his and her combined book collection, searching for one in particular about protection magic, Y/N ignored the rumbles coming from Namjoon’s chest. When she turned, his head was in his hands, elbows leaning on the desk, dismayed. “Joon Bug, I know you’re worried, but it’ll be okay. I promise.”

“If anything happens to you, how will I reconcile that with myself? Knowing I just let you walk into a situation like that,” Namjoon muttered, seemingly to himself, making Y/N’s heart stop dead in her ribcage for a second. 

“Namjoon,” Y/N sighed, returning to his side with the book she needed, hooking her chin over his shoulder from behind, some of the tension dissolving from his tense upper back. “I’ll be safe. I have you.”

She wound her arms around his shoulders for a hug, Namjoon still pressing his face into his hands. Clearly, he was more concerned for her well-being than she ever could have imagined, Y/N squeezing him tightly to comfort him. Truthfully, she was frightened of whatever threatened her in Julie’s room, hearing its voice out loud bone-chilling, but she had promised that family that the three of them would help them. Besides, she had banished something malevolent before with success, and she was fairly confident she could do it again– as long as Namjoon and Jeongguk were by her side, working as a team. 

“Bug, why don’t you help me gather up some materials and maybe start brainstorming how we should clear the spirits from the house, hmm? I could use your help,” Y/N attempted to perk him up, his gloom filling the room, Namjoon making a noncommittal noise in response. “Please?”

Finally, Namjoon lifted his face from his palms, turning his face sideways to glance at her behind him, corners of his lips turned downwards. 

“In the van?” Namjoon relented, contrary to his clear disapproval, letting her hold him for the longest time he ever had, and his musky honey scent made her mouth water, shamefully. 

“Uh-huh! It’s our headquarters, after all,” Y/N giggled, lightening the mood even more, before she grew serious. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

With that, Y/N leaned forward, testing the waters and pecking his cheek lightly, Namjoon going rigid in her embrace with the press of her lips, nuzzling into him in hopes that she hadn’t crossed a line and he’d relax. Brain catching up with reality, Namjoon cleared his throat, blood rushing to the tips of his ears, melting backwards into her. And to her astonishment, the wolf hybrid turned his face even more, burying the tip of his nose into the crook of Y/N’s neck, breathing in deeply. 

“I said it at the club, Y/N,” Namjoon’s voice took on a mellifluous quality, his breath against her throat causing the hairs on her nape to stand on end. “You’re a handful, you’re lucky I’m with you.”

“That’s right,” Y/N’s voice came out like silk, letting him nudge the tip of his nose against her collarbone, feeling a little light-headed. “I thank the stars.”

Chuckling at the corny reply and drawing away from her, Namjoon made a motion to get to his feet, twirling the keys to his van around a long fingertip. Finally, he was smiling, his perfect teeth and dimples on display, Y/N completely dazzled. With a twitch to his bitten ear, he nodded towards his bedroom door so they could exit together. To surprise her even further, Namjoon grabbed his denim and sherpa jacket from his bed, offering it to Y/N without hesitation and without looking at her, Y/N woodenly taking it from him. 

“Since you seem to like wearing this so much, bundle up,” Namjoon commented, Y/N realizing that her scent was probably all over the garment from when she wore it to confront Yoongi many moons ago. “Let’s go.”

Namjoon left the room before she could shrug on the jacket, the wolf hybrid foregoing any sort of coat himself and simply pushing down the rolled-up sleeves of his cable knit sweater, expecting Y/N to follow. Blindly, she did, pulling his cozy jacket tight across her body with her heart racing in her chest. 

Taking a deep, calming breath, Y/N rang the doorbell to her parent’s house, preparing herself for what might come out of her mother’s mouth. She had told her mother about the investigations her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon were starting to take control over, but there was no doubt that Judy– one of her mother’s very good friends, not just Y/N’s boss– had dished out dirty details. Behind the great oak door, she heard someone shuffling towards her in slippers, Y/N grateful she didn’t bring any of her hybrids with her for once. 

“Hi honey, come on in while the tea’s hot,” her father, in a bright tracksuit and his house slippers, answered the door, Y/N giggling at his appearance. Gone were the days of her sharply dressed father, the doctor. Now he dressed like an extra on the set of Seinfeld. “You look well!”

Despite the fact that Y/N had a murderous demon after her blood, Y/N was in good spirits. She was always well fed thanks to Seokjin and Yoongi, there was never a day Hoseok didn’t brighten it with his humor, and she was finally doing something with her life that had her excited to jump out of bed in the morning. Giving her father a squeeze, she mumbled a thank you into his tracksuit, following him into the kitchen where her mother was audibly tinkering away on the stove. 

“Your grandparents are napping, I’m not sure if you’ll get to see them before you leave today,” her father informed her, returning to where he was sitting at the kitchen table prior to Y/N’s arrival. “Hopefully whatever you wanted to discuss doesn’t involve getting your grandmother’s advice.”

“Oh, no. Just stuff you guys can handle,” Y/N waved a hand, plopping down next to him and eyeing the Italian cookies on the table. She never had a taste for them, but her father loved them to bits. “Okay. So first order of business that I’m hoping you can help me out with, dad! I need to get my boys a doctor and schedule yearly physicals. A dentist, too.”

“Yep, I can handle that,” her father accepted a cup of a strongly scented herbal tea without question, draining it in one go and handing it back to her mother. 

Her mother, dressed in her typical drapey dresses and “shawl of the day”, distractedly squeezed Y/N’s shoulder in hello as she read the tea leaves at the bottom of her father’s teacup. Humming in satisfaction, she placed the cup in the sink, dialing into the conversation. 

“Your luck is good today, dear,” her mother told her father, Y/N stifling a chuckle by biting down on the inside of her cheek. “How about David? Y/N, our dear friend is a general practitioner, a hybrid doctor. Dr. Rocha is his name!”

“I can make a call,” her father fumbled for his phone on the table, holding it far from his face so he could read the screen while he went through his contacts. “You can just bring your hybrids to your dentist, she takes on hybrid clients. I can schedule all of the appointments for you, honey, I know how busy you are.”

“Thanks, dad,” Y/N leaned her cheek into her father’s shoulder, relieved that something was being taken off of her plate for her. “How’s the book club going mom?”

“Same as always! We’re reading Kafka these next few weeks. Your boys have been such a wonderful addition to the club, Namjoon has always been the leader type. Seokjin has really been opening up lately!” 

“Mm, has he?” The mention of Seokjin had heat pooling in her cheeks– Y/N hadn’t disclosed to her parents that she was romantically involved with both Seokjin and Yoongi, and she dreaded the day, to be honest. “That’s good! He’s come a long way with getting out of his shell.”

“So, what is it that you need to ask me, dear,” her mother saw through the small talk, and likely had some kind of premonition about what Y/N was needing her counsel on. 

“We have to go back to the house we’re trying to cleanse and do a secondary investigation before we can tackle the actual cleansing. The spirits are… aggressive. I wanted to know if you had any ideas on how to up the protection for the three of us.”

Y/N, much like she wasn’t disclosing that she was dating two out of seven of her hybrids, wasn’t about to share that an entity was targeting her specifically as well. Not wanting to concern her father, and knowing that if her mother found out what the spirit actually said to her, she’d agree with Namjoon and want her to stay home. 

“Have you tried the tourmaline necklaces?” her mother stirred sugar into her tea, humming when Y/N nodded in response. “I’ll give you some dragon’s blood incense, burn that while you’re in the house. Teach Namjoon and Jeongguk how to put up spiritual shields– they’re both smart boys so they’ll get it quick. Also, carry some selenite and citrine on you in addition to the tourmaline. Selenite will allow your spirit guides to better protect you and citrine combats negative energy.”

“That will be pretty bulletproof, right?” Y/N asked, grateful her parents were humans and couldn’t sense her nerves rising. 

“Should be, my dear! Unless you’re dealing with something extremely powerful, doing all that should keep you safe,” her mother smiled, reaching across the table to grasp onto Y/N’s hand. “I’m so glad we can talk about things like this together again. I can’t tell you how excited I am for you and your two young boys.”

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, taken aback, emotions welling up in her as her mother’s smile grew wider, squeezing her hand once before she stood from the table. “I love you, mom.”

“Love you too, honey. I’ll gather up the incense and the crystals, okay? I think I have some hematite rings somewhere in my storage too…” distractedly, Y/N’s mother ambled away further into the recesses of the home, her father chuckling with her disappearance.

“I booked the doctor’s visits for you, Dr. Rocha suggested doing two appointments per day so you’re not in the office for seven hours all at once. They’re in mid-March,” her father announced, ruffling Y/N’s hair. “Still waiting to hear from the dentist, but I think there’s enough techs to get all seven of them done in an afternoon. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect, thank you so much, dad,” Y/N checked her watch, noting that it was time for her to scramble home and pick up Jimin for an errand they had to run. “Shoot, I have to go.”

“Here you are, honey!” Y/N’s mother reappeared as her father walked her to the front door, a gift bag filled with the protection items in hand. “Oh, before you go, have you heard the whispers?”

“Whispers?” Y/N repeated, confused. 

“There’s rumors about some new laws being passed, regarding hybrids,” she informed her, excitement clear as day on her face, so Y/N assumed they were good laws. “Adopted hybrids might be able to seek legal employment soon. I’ve heard that universities, too, are going to start offering classes for hybrid students. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Y/N paused, not expecting such a bombshell. If the rumors were true, her boys would be one step closer to living a more normal, human life, they wouldn’t have to stay at home all day, and they could make their own money to buy whatever they pleased. Additionally, if her mother was right, apparently the wheel of progress was speeding up. All Y/N could think about, though, is how the government should be thinking about banning hybrid sport hunting before all of that, but progress was progress and she didn’t want to rain on her mother’s parade. 

“That would be amazing if that actually happens,” Y/N breathed, her mother handing over the gift bag with a grin. “I do want to hold off on mentioning it to the boys for now, though. I don’t want to get their hopes up if that’s just a rumor.”

“Of course,” her mother made a zipping motion over her lips, meaning she wouldn’t spill the beans to Namjoon or Seokjin at the book club. “I’ve been lighting candles for a week to try and move things along.”

“Hmm, influencing government affairs now, mom?” Y/N snorted, hugging her before she reached for the door. “Maybe I’ll light one too.”

“Bring the boys here Friday night for dinner! We’re going to make a big feast to celebrate Ostara coming up!” 

“Ostara isn’t for another couple weeks!” Y/N replied, eyebrows furrowed. “You just want to see everyone, don’t you?”

“Bring them around 7, alright? Tell Yoongi to make those delicious mashed potatoes,” her mother ignored her accusation, waving at her from the front door as Y/N started down the street to her own house. 

Back at the house, shivering, she found Jimin in the sunroom, where he had begun to nurse seedlings for their garden in the spring. She dropped off the bag of items her mother gave her in Namjoon’s room before she searched for the coyote hybrid, the wolf hybrid’s bedroom empty and telling her that he was probably holed up in the van. Jimin was in his trademark blue jeans and a cozy-looking beige sweater, using a little mister to dampen the trays of seedlings. The room smelled earthy-sweet and was bathed with early afternoon sunlight, most of the brick floors completely covered with all of the seedlings she and Jimin planted days prior. 

“Hey, anything sprouting yet?” Y/N tiptoed around a pile of carefully swept soil, squinting at the trays. 

“Not quite. We’re going to have to be patient,” Jimin sent a gorgeous smile her way in greeting, peeling off his gardening gloves and setting them aside. In the corner of the room was a small stack of books pertaining to plants and growing produce that Namjoon dug out of the oven in his van for her, a couple of old tin watering cans, and Jimin’s phone on top of the books, playing soft rock in the background. “I labeled everything with tape and markers. Looks okay?”

“Looks awesome. Meticulous as always, Jimin!” Y/N made a motion to water some of the other house plants around the room, but apparently the coyote hybrid had beaten her to the punch judging by the damp soil. “I’m so excited for spring. It’s been such a gross winter.”

“It’ll be here before you know it,” Jimin reminded her, looking down at his clothing to make sure soil wasn’t clinging to the fabrics. “We’re still heading out today, right?”

“How could I forget? I already put the third row in the Land Cruiser down so we can jam everything we buy in the trunk,” Y/N teased, dangling her hand in front of his face to help him up. His palm was rough from years of manual labor, but gentle and sure. With a swish of his tail, he rose to his feet, still smiling like an angel. “I’m ready when you are. Maybe we can get some lunch on the way back, if you’re up for it!”

“Okay, let me just get my jacket,” Jimin let go of her hand, which she didn’t even realize he was still holding, Y/N casting one more look at the perfectly labeled trays of seedlings, smiling at his neat handwriting. “Want me to drive?”

“Sure!” Y/N followed Jimin to the car once he slipped on his jacket and boots, calling out to the others in various areas of the house to let them know where they were heading. 

“I saw that you updated the list of things we’re looking for,” Jimin commented after a few moments of comfortable silence in the car, Y/N scrolling through said list on her phone. 

“I want to have the nicest backyard on the block! It’s been looking like a mess up until you started clearing things up,” Y/N replied enthusiastically. “Want to find a cute bird bath and a bunch of feeders, those ceramic outdoor lights you stick in the dirt and look like mushrooms… comfortable cushions for us to sit on, a fun sprinkler to run through when it’s hot.”

Jimin, as always, listened intently and quietly, Y/N watching the corners of his mouth curl upwards as she spoke.

“You sound like the woman talking about her dream house in The Notebook,” Jimin commented, Y/N blinking before she remembered she had made all of the boys watch the film during the afternoon on Valentine’s day. She could still hear Jeongguk’s gagging from the leather recliner– although, he did end up watching the entire thing without her having to strap him down. “Allie, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right! I believe you were the only one who ended up liking that movie,” Y/N giggled, though the comment had butterflies soaring in her stomach. “Now that I think about it, you’re like Noah. Doing all the hard work to make the house pretty!”

The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them, and immediately, mortification washed over her. With her being Allie and him being Noah, she was pretty much implying that they were star-crossed lovers– since he was helping her fix up the house in the way she wanted precisely. Considering using her window breaker and climbing out onto the freeway, Y/N tried to come up with a way to stuff the words back down her throat. All she managed to come up with was staring at Jimin with obvious alarm, his ears twitching. 

Sensing her panic, Jimin surprised her by clearing his throat and chuckling, Y/N realizing his ears were twitching out of amusement. Still gaping at him, Jimin’s eyes turned into crescents while he laughed, shaking his head. 

“I guess that is true,” Jimin coughed once he recovered from laughter, Y/N hiding her embarrassment by returning to the list on her phone. “You do your fair share of the hard work too, Y/N.”

She could have kissed Jimin for not teasing her. If it had been any of the others she had said that to besides he or Namjoon, she’d never hear the end of it. Once she finally regained mental facilities, she continued to talk about her plans for the backyard as if she hadn’t said anything. 

“We can get some wind chimes, new umbrellas, Oh! I saw this thing online that looks like a mini picnic table, you use it as a squirrel feeder. If we find that at the store, we’re so getting it!”

“Whatever you want, Y/N. If there are things you want to get that don’t fit in the car, we’ll have it shipped,” Jimin pulled into the strip mall where The Home Depot was, pushing a hand through his blonde hair and still wearing an expression of merriment. 

The coyote hybrid refused to let her push the flatbed cart around the store, which left Y/N to pick out everything she had on her list and more. Halfway through the trip, she had to abandon Jimin and get a normal cart for smaller items, Jimin laughing at her when she stacked boxes of the light-up mushrooms into the basket. 

“I think that’s plenty of bird seed,” Jimin was leaning on his elbows on the cart, eyebrows raised and ears perky and alert, watching Y/N haul a bag of seed off of a shelf. 

“This isn’t bird seed, it’s for critters. Squirrels and rabbits!” Y/N defended herself, tossing the bag into the cart and ignoring Jimin’s snickers. “Okay… I think we just need to get the fertilizer now, and it’s at the opposite side of the store.”

Y/N eyed the houseplant section as they passed by it, Jimin giving her a knowing but warning look, yellow eyes narrowing playfully. Huffing, she pushed ahead, and while she was pretending to be annoyed, she was really enjoying her one-on-one time with Jimin. The domestic activity had thoroughly distracted her from the Sanders’ case that was weighing heavily on her mind. While Jimin was hefting a bag of fertilizer onto his flatbed, Y/N gawked at the corded muscles of his back beneath his sweater, the coyote hybrid oblivious as his tail swished contentedly. Before she could get too carried away with checking him out, Jimin somehow read her deeper thoughts, appearing to brace himself. 

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” Jimin licked his lips, growing serious.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, suddenly nervous and on guard. 

“The past few days I’ve noticed a change in Namjoon’s behavior. He seems really worried about you. Does it have anything to do with that case you’re working on with him and Jeongguk?” 

Mouth opening and closing, she wasn’t sure how to respond. As per usual, it wasn’t like she could lie to Jimin and pretend everything was rainbows and butterflies. So, Y/N did what she always tried to do with her hybrids– be honest, but try to prevent them from being overly concerned about her. 

“Yeah, the spirits are very nasty. He’s worried I’ll get hurt, but I swung by my mom’s earlier today for extra protection items. I keep telling him I’ll be fine, but you know how he is,” Y/N answered nonchalantly, Jimin frowning. 

“He told me you guys captured audio that specifically threatened you,” Jimin said flatly, his ears turning downwards. Damn Namjoon, and damn she wasn’t getting out of that by being a slippery truth-bender. “What did the audio say?”

Y/N cringed, not wanting to repeat the disgusting statement at all, but Jimin was staring at her so intensely she knew they weren’t budging from that home improvement store until she told him. 

“The thing in one of the children’s bedrooms threatened to kill me,” Y/N answered simply, shrugging. “I guess we’ll just have to exorcize the house before it gets the chance.”

Y/N resumed perusing the fertilizer in order to break the intense eye-contact Jimin was giving her, one of the first times he genuinely made her skin break out into goosebumps. Unfortunately, she was peering back up into those hardened butterscotch eyes when a roughened hand grabbed onto her wrist. 

“Y/N, don’t just shrug that off like it’s nothing. You have to tell everyone else,” Jimin’s voice was gruff, firm, and Y/N was blinking at him stupidly. 

“Why? Jimin, I don’t want you all fussing over me. Namjoon is already enough to deal with, he doesn’t even want me to go back to the house,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, picturing a range of reactions from the other hybrids in response to the audio. 

“Why? Y/N, don’t you realize if something happens to you, it will seriously affect us all?” Jimin gaped, as if she was being totally ridiculous. Suddenly, she felt immensely guilty, and justifiably so. “Think about Yoongi and Seokjin, at least. They would be devastated.”

Y/N’s throat was closing up, now imagining Seokjin’s tears and heartbreak, Yoongi’s misery– it was absolutely unbearable. Swallowing, she nodded at Jimin, who softened when he scented the emotions that came from her. 

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I should have considered that, keeping it from you all would be so selfish of me. I’ll… have Namjoon show you guys the audio tonight,” Y/N apologized, a tad watery, all of the reproach on Jimin’s face disappearing. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. I know you’re just trying to put on a brave face, but you can lean on us a little, you know? We’re supposed to worry about each other,” Jimin let go of her wrist, patting her shoulder gently. 

“You’re right,” Y/N looked at the floor, glum. Jimin, humming, kept patting her shoulder until she looked at him again. “Again, I’m sorry…”

Jimin shook his head, his normally easy-going air returning, giving her shoulder a squeeze. 

“All good, Y/N. We can talk about it more, later. I think you should hear everyone out before you decide whether or not to go back to that house,” Jimin returned to the flatbed he was pushing, Y/N not looking forward to that conversation at all. “We have everything, right? Want to head to the registers? I can bring the car around while you check out so we can load everything up, then we can get some lunch.”

Y/N followed her coyote hybrid to the register, still dwelling over Seokjin and Yoongi. She wondered, if she was seriously hurt or even killed, how they would process that. Hannah mentioned that if Seokjin’s heart was broken one more time, he might not survive it. Would Yoongi survive her disappearing from his world again? Guilt festered away her very being, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t even considered confiding in either both of them. Nauseous, she started robotically placing items on the conveyor belt, Jimin leaving her there to get the car. 

Waiting by the door, she painted a smile on her face when she watched him pull up, helping him place everything into the trunk. With her stomach still turning and a half-hour ride back to the house, Y/N poked Jimin in the back. 

“I’m going to run back in to use the bathroom, okay? I’ll meet you back out here in a few,” Y/N announced, Jimin waving her away as he slid yet another box of light-up mushrooms into the stuffed-full trunk. 

Chewing her lip, Y/N searched for the sign for the restrooms, trying her best to hurry and not keep Jimin waiting. However, as she passed by the houseplant section again, she paused– before grabbing another cart and selecting seven different plants. 

“Holy shit, do you think you bought enough crap?” Jeongguk grunted as he collapsed into the breakfast nook, wiping sweat from his brow. Y/N enlisted his help in getting everything out of the car along with Jimin, and he had carried the stone birdbath she picked out about halfway across the yard while muttering expletives the whole time. 

“It’s your fault for being the first one I spotted when we pulled in. Blame your smoke breaks, not me,” Y/N flicked his sweaty forehead, his dark eyes flashing. She had yet to discuss the audio with him specifically, and she had the feeling he was avoiding the subject entirely– besides, he had been holed up in his room for days, fiddling with his cameras. “Need help with dinner, angel?”

Y/N spun on her heel, spotting Yoongi by the fridge, putting a tub of ricotta cheese away. His hair, longer than ever, was tied up, and he was dressed in a slouchy hoodie, one that she wanted to get inside with him. Approaching, she looked around the island, and it appeared that he didn’t really need help with anything at all; a large garden salad sitting in a wooden bowl tossed and ready to go, a covered casserole dish with spicy spaghetti, and when she looked at the stove, there were several skillets going with pork chops searing away. 

“Wow, chef, it’s like you don’t even need your sous anymore,” Y/N pouted, wiggling her fingers against his ribs and reaching up to give his ears a scratch. Yoongi had gotten used to her stroking through the glossy fur, so he only jolted about a centimeter. 

“My sous is Seokjin now. You’re like chef de partie,” Yoongi teased, and to both her delight and slight embarrassment, turned his head and ducked it, capturing her lips in a sweet, simple kiss hello. 

Eyes fluttering shut, she let herself melt into his taste, completely ignoring Jeongguk’s gagging behind them. Squeezing the side of his waist, she made a small noise of disappointment when his lips slid from hers, opting to plant one more kiss on her forehead before returning to his pork chops. 

“Get a room,” Jeongguk muttered, scrolling through his phone with his nose wrinkled. 

“Get a life,” Yoongi replied blandly, using tongs to turn over one of the pork chops. Offering the leopard hybrid a kiss of her own with a quiet snicker, one on the tip of his nose, she concluded that Yoongi was perfectly fine on his own. Which meant she had no excuse to avoid finding Namjoon and telling him to get the audio ready to play after dinner. 

Trudging into the hall, she heard Jimin’s shower turn on, the pipes in the walls clanging. Despite the fact that Jimin had that stern talking-to with her in the store, lunch at a diner and the ride back home was pleasant, even though she had returned from the “bathroom” with seven additional purchases. She followed her ears, the tinny sounds of folk tapes playing from Namjoon’s room. Knocking twice on his ajar bedroom door, the wolf hybrid was reading on his window seat, chewing on the end of a pen with a sharpened incisor. 

“Hey,” Y/N began, glancing at her laptop sitting on his desk, scribbled notes and crumpled paper littered around the device. “I need a favor.”

Namjoon looked up from his book, the crease that had been between his eyebrows since he analyzed the audio deepening when he saw her leaning against his doorframe. The wolf hybrid slid a bookmark in place, squaring his shoulders so he could face her. 

“A favor,” Namjoon repeated, eyes skimming her from head to toe as if to search for anything awry. “What do you need?”

“I’m going to play that audio for everyone after dinner. It’s only fair, Jimin pointed that out to me. I agree with him,” Y/N said, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end and his normally sharp eyes going round. 

“Do you really think that’s wise?” Namjoon exclaimed, getting to his feet and knocking his book off of the window seat. 

“Yeah, I do. If something happens and they didn’t know about it…” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” Namjoon cut her off sternly, his gaze becoming analytical again. “If you want to show them, go ahead. But nothing is going to happen to you.”

Y/N swallowed at the resolution in his tone, still not quite used to how protective Namjoon had become of her. Nodding meekly, she gestured towards the laptop. 

“I’ll play it for them after dinner. I don’t think a demon calling me a whore is a very good appetizer,” Y/N whispered, hoping that Namjoon was the only one who could hear her at that moment. Namjoon flinched, hissing, his face becoming stormy. 

“You shouldn’t joke about it, Y/N.”

“Humor is how I cope. Ask Hoseok, he does the same thing,” Y/N grouched, and she could tell Namjoon was getting even more pissed with that comment, so she changed the subject. “Did you look through that bag I left you? My mom gave me a bunch of good tips and materials for added layers of protection.”

“Yeah, I looked through it,” Namjoon was definitely still irritated, his tail swishing back and forth angrily, though he paused when his phone chimed in his pocket. “Dinner’s ready.”

Namjoon brushed by her, not sparing her one last glance, Y/N sighing and mouthing ‘sorry’ to his retreating form. Starting to follow after him, she went rigid when she felt a pair of arms wrap snugly around her waist, squeezing tightly until she wheezed. It was only when she felt kisses showering over the side of her face that she knew who it was, going limp in his strong arms. 

“Hi, Jin,” Y/N giggled, the heaviness of her interaction with Namjoon dissolving with the tenderness Seokjin showered upon her. “How was your day, honey?”

“Severely lacking without you,” Seokjin admitted, an almost whine to his voice. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Y/ N hummed, relaxing backwards into his chest and placing her hands over his, resting on her stomach. “It’s your turn to pick a movie or show tonight!”

“Mm-hmm,” Seokjin returned, though she had a feeling he wasn’t listening as he tucked his face in her neck from behind, planting tiny kisses on the exposed skin and his tail winding around her leg. 

“Come on, you. Let’s eat,” Y/N tried to untangle herself from Seokjin’s ironclad grip around her middle, but he wouldn’t ease up his hold until she murmured ‘I love you’ into his wavy hair. “Big kitty.”

Seokjin walked beside her, asking about her day as they returned to the kitchen. In her absence, Hoseok had bounced into the room, skin dewy from his evening run and positively glowing with endorphins. Shoving aside what they were having for dessert– demonic threats– she began making herself a plate, Taehyung entering the room with his eyes glued to his phone. Y/N wasn’t sure if he had downloaded a new interesting game over the past week, but he was thoroughly invested in whatever he was doing on the device. Shrugging, watching the Kodiak hybrid absently take a plate, she loaded up her own with salad and pasta. 

Dinner passed by perfectly normally, other than the fact that Namjoon still wasn’t very pleased with her and judging by the way Jeongguk was eyeing her carefully, the wolf hybrid had updated him on what was to come after they finished eating. While Taehyung helped her wash dishes, Namjoon disappeared. The kitchen was clean and everyone was still hanging out, digesting, before they inevitably moved to the parlor for a movie. Y/N’s palms began to sweat when Namjoon returned with the laptop, Jimin making eye contact with her from across the room, nodding once with encouragement. Jeongguk was by the slider door to the backyard, the glass cracked open as he lit up a cigarette to smoke out of it. 

Namjoon setting the laptop on the island somehow commanded attention, or perhaps it was the way he was carrying himself in that moment, grave and full of authority. Even Yoongi paused his wipe-down of the stove, his spotted ears perking up. 

“House meeting,” Jeongguk announced dryly, staring out the window and flicking ash outside. 

“Huh? New chore chart or something?” Hoseok was holding a popsicle, watching Namjoon set up the laptop, Y/N gritting her teeth, joining the wolf hybrid at the island, glancing up at the tall hybrid and searching for any kind of comfort. All he offered were drooped ears and his mouth set in a grim line. 

“Uh, no. It’s about… you know the thing Namjoon, Jeongguk and I have been investigating for my job? The consults we do for haunted locations,” Y/N began, beating around the bush and feeling Namjoon trudge off to the corner of the room, at Jeongguk’s side. “This first case, we captured some audio in one of the bedrooms. And… I think you guys should hear it, because it was about me.”

The room was completely quiet, Taehyung turning off the faucet and setting down the pan he was scrubbing, and Seokjin materializing beside her in half a heartbeat, worry all over his angelic face. No one said a word, Y/N’s hands shaking as they hovered over the keyboard, and without further ado, she hammered down on the space bar to play the recording. 

“What is your name?”

Static, and Seokjin holding his breath beside her.

“How old are you?”

More static, Yoongi flanking her other side.

“Why are you here?”

“Watching.” 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.” 

Y/N didn’t dare look up from the laptop as the audio crackled, the highlighted section labeled “Julie’s room” fast approaching, and she braced herself, eyes squeezing shut.

“Why are you here?”

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

Y/N expected an outcry of rage, but when the audio ended, the room was deathly quiet, the reedy, disturbing voice of the entity ringing out in the large kitchen eerily. She shut the laptop quickly, feeling her blood pressure rise at the lack of response. Then, all at once, chaos.

“There’s no fucking way you’re going back, are you–” Yoongi started, gripping the granite counter top like he was going to pass out, Seokjin’s voice tangling with his–

“Kill? Can a ghost actually do that? Jeongguk–” Seokjin was desperately holding on to Y/N’s shoulders like she was about to be taken from him and ritually sacrificed, his expression more panicked than she had ever seen it. 

Head spinning, she felt Seokjin shaking her shoulders, beside himself, Yoongi still cursing and telling Y/N she shouldn’t go back, she can’t go back. The beginnings of an anxiety attack clutched at her oxygen-starved lungs, Yoongi and Seokjin so distraught she hardly noticed how everyone else was faring. 

“Please, please, Y/N. You can’t get hurt,” Seokjin begged, and she swore she saw tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Truly, the image she had conjured up in her head earlier at the home improvement store paled in comparison to reality; reality was absolutely hellish. 

“Calm down, you two,” Jeongguk called from the slider, tossing his half-smoked cigarette into the outdoor ashtray. “Give her a few inches of space.”

Seokjin did not obey, but he loosened his hold on her shoulders, lips slamming shut. Yoongi stopped swearing, but his knuckles were white with how tightly he was holding onto the island. She tore her eyes from Seokjin’s watery ones, whipping her head towards the elk hybrid, who seemed determined and confident. Y/N supposed it wasn’t exactly a shock to him, as he heard the audio before, and had probably dealt with entities like that in his past. Namjoon was standing beside him like a club bouncer, stony and aloof. 

The others, however, were watching Yoongi and Seokjin with great surprise. Those two were usually the more calm and collected of the bunch, so to see them become slightly hysterical was definitely a shock. Jimin, at the breakfast nook, was white as a sheet– Y/N hadn’t disclosed the entity’s exact wording, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Hoseok, a statue by the refrigerator, had wide eyes and mango juice running down his wrist as his forgotten popsicle melted all over him. 

“Y/N, listen to me. Tell me you’re not planning on going back to that house,” Yoongi tried to compose himself, head down as he stared at her, Y/N’s lower lip wobbling at the look on his face. 

“I–”

“She is,” Namjoon answered for her, bluntly and with deep resentment. “Don’t even bother trying to talk her out of it.”

Yoongi sagged, head in hands, apparently the words striking home. Yoongi was well aware of Y/N’s stubbornness, and that if she set her mind to accomplish something, nothing would tear her away from trying. Finally, Seokjin’s hands slid from her shoulders, turning his head sideways and using the back of his hand to swipe under his eyes, defeated. 

“Wait. This is fucking nuts. You’re telling me you recorded a ghost saying that to you?” Hoseok dumped his half-melted popsicle in the sink, regaining motor function and scoffing, however, the green tint to his skin gave away the fact that the resident skeptic was starting to believe, at least a little. 

“No, it was the sound of the wind, dipshit,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but he crossed his arms over his chest and focused on Y/N. “Y/N is a big girl. She’s stronger than you think. Let her make her own decisions.”

“You didn’t answer me. Can it actually kill her?” Seokjin’s tone was darker than ever, and he left her side to stalk over to Jeongguk. Growls came from the back of his throat, towering over Jeongguk at that moment, though the elk hybrid simply assessed Seokjin lazily. 

“Short answer, yes,” Jeongguk answered honestly, Y/N’s stomach dropping as she attempted to soothe Yoongi with a hand on his back– only to find it shaking. “But it’s rare. Usually happens during a demonic possession, and a possession takes weeks, sometimes months, to happen. Relax, jaguar, get out of my face. We’ve been monitoring her all week, the spirit didn’t follow us home. It was probably threatening her because it knows she has the ability to banish it.”

Seokjin, again, did not listen to Jeongguk, baring his teeth at the elk hybrid with his tail violently thrashing behind him. 

“I don’t want her there, either. But like Jeongguk said, you have to let her make her own choices,” Namjoon cut in, putting a broad palm between Jeongguk and Seokjin’s chests. Sick of them talking about her like she wasn’t in the room, Y/N removed her hand from Yoongi’s back, spinning around to glare at the three in the corner of the kitchen. 

“I don’t want this turning into a fight. Can we just talk like adults? I know it’s… startling to hear. But you all have to give me some credit, can’t you? I mean, I was able to banish the demon from this house. I lived with the attachment for years prior to even knowing any of you, and was never physically harmed.”

“But Y/N–” Hoseok began, however, Y/N held her hand out to stop him. 

“I promised the Sanders family I would help them. To back out on that promise out of fear is cowardly bullshit. There are children in that house, living with that thing. If that’s how it threatened me, someone who had only been in the building twice, what is it saying about the kids?”

The room fell into silence again. Realizing she hadn’t heard a peep from Taehyung, she looked around the room, each of her hybrids in various states of discomfort, anger, and distress– the latter of which affecting Yoongi the most. 

“I think– I think I need some air,” Seokjin broke the silence, cracking open the slider even further and slipping outside, Y/N’s heart breaking. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Y/N froze, Taehyung’s soulful, resonant voice came from behind her, making her flinch in surprise. Those days, he really didn’t talk to her unless he had to, considering he was so glued to his phone or his camera it was nearly impossible to get his attention, so hearing him address her specifically had tingles shooting down her spine. 

“I’m okay, Tae,” Y/N softened, his usual kind, trusting face appearing in front of her, reaching out to take her trembling hands. “Are you?”

“I believe in you,” he responded quietly, tugging her forward slightly to give her a brief hug, something she didn’t realize she needed so bad. “If you go, promise you’ll come back.”

“Oh, I promise,” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her hands fisting in the fabric of his sweater over his lower back. It was the most physical contact she had from Taehyung in a long while, and the fact that he offered her comfort while the others dissolved into pieces had her heart galloping in her chest. “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll come back to you all in one piece, I swear.”

Taehyung let her go, nodding once, taking her promise as an oath. Y/N bristled when Namjoon approached, swiping up the laptop, his iciness slightly dissipating when he noticed how much it affected her. Placing a palm on top of her head, somewhat awkwardly, Namjoon left the room with his bitten ear flickering and Jeongguk close behind. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she worried for Seokjin, outside in the cold without a coat, she worried for Yoongi, pale and hunched over beside her, and Hoseok and Jimin looked like neither of them could wrap their heads around the entire situation. 

“Um… I’m gonna try and get Jin to come back inside,” Hoseok cleared his throat after rinsing the melted mango popsicle off of his forearm and wrist, not bouncing back as quickly as he usually did after an uncomfortable situation. “Jimin, set up the TV.”

Although the fox hybrid wasn’t totally bouncing back just yet, Y/N suspected he was trying to grasp onto normalcy by not abandoning their nightly routine. Taehyung, sparing her one last meaningful look, whisked himself away to the parlor, and Y/N heard him shoving more logs into the fireplace distantly. Jimin, slowly, got up from his seat, heeding Hoseok’s suggestion and bringing his glass of whiskey along with him, leaving her and Yoongi alone. She had an inkling that they all left the room on purpose, for Y/N to attempt to soothe Yoongi, but she didn’t know where to start. “Yoongi, baby,” Y/N murmured, the leopard hybrid still leaning over the counter with his head in his hands. “Look at me.”

Yoongi didn’t budge, but he began muttering to himself, far too quietly for Y/N to hear what he was saying. His tail was completely still, limp, ears drooped, and Y/N felt terrible for being responsible for his misery. 

“Please, look at me? Yoongi?” Y/N tried again, hesitantly placing a hand on his bicep, yelping when he straightened, immediately yanking Y/N into his chest, shoving his face into her neck and clawing at her back through her blouse. “O-oof. Angel…”

At least he stopped shaking, hugging her so tight the breath was stolen from her lungs, the leopard hybrid manipulating her head so it similarly rested in the crook of his neck. She stopped speaking, letting him hold her silently, stroking her hands through his hair– somehow, in all of the chaos, his elastic band came loose, his inky hair falling messily around his face. 

“I can’t lose you again,” Yoongi finally spoke, voice scratchy with emotion. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Y/N answered immediately, clutching him close, not even caring that his fingernails were scraping up the skin of her back. “Never again.”

“Baby,” Yoongi moved, cradling the back of her head so she was pressed against his chest– and for once, he wasn’t purring. “I won’t try to convince you not to go anymore, but…”

“You don’t want me to,” Y/N finished for the leopard hybrid when he trailed off, pressing a kiss to his chest through his hoodie. 

“Goes without saying,” Yoongi held her so tight, she thought he would never let go. “But I know you. I need you to be careful, Y/N.”

Y/N had no response. She simply held onto Yoongi, smoothing her hands up and down his back, blinking away tears. While everyone’s reactions had her worried, if anything, it made her even more determined to not only banish the spirits in the Sanders’ home, but also come back perfectly whole and triumphant. 

“I love you, Y/N. Please be careful,” Yoongi whispered after a few moments, kissing the top of her head, easing up on his hold on her. She returned the sentiment, a palm on one of his cheeks, pressing her forehead to his. “Come back to me.”

Y/N shushed him, a tear tracking down her cheek, by kissing him gently, his lower lip between hers as they held onto each other like lifelines. She didn’t deepen the kiss any further, the chaste lock of their lips more like a promise than anything else, and when Yoongi pulled away, he released her from his embrace. He wiped the tear running down her cheek with a thumb, a crooked smile on his face, despite the heavy mood. 

“Only you can bring Seokjin inside, go rescue Foxy,” Yoongi grunted, nodding towards the door. Moving towards the glass, she paused, looking over her shoulder. 

“I love you, Yoongi.”

It had taken her thirty whole minutes to get Seokjin back inside. Hoseok had scrambled away as soon as she was out on the patio with them, Seokjin sitting on a lawn chair staring despondently into the distance. In the end, it was her thorough explanation of all of the protective tools she’d be using, how she’d leave the house at the first sign of danger, and pinky-swearing that she’d call him as soon as they concluded the second investigation that got him to budge. That night, Seokjin insisted on sleeping with her, tucking her under his chin and clinging to her like glue. 

In the days that followed, Y/N started to get a little annoyed by how everyone was tip-toeing around her, as if she was going to burst into flames at any moment. She put her focus on Namjoon and Jeongguk, teaching them how to create an energy shield for themselves, which as her mother predicted, was incredibly easy for them to pick up. Jeongguk– and Taehyung, when he was around– seemed like the only two who weren’t staring at her with puppy dog eyes, pleading for her to reconsider following through on the investigation. No matter how cute Jimin was, Y/N wasn’t budging. 

It was the day before the second investigation, a Tuesday and the last day of February, and Y/N was packing her overnight bag in her room. Tucking a first-aid kit into the pocket of the bag, Y/N hoped she wouldn’t have to use it. Yoongi and Seokjin had been up her ass the entire day, and she finally caught a break when Yoongi took one of the cars to Ben’s for Daisy’s piano lesson, and Seokjin had managed to peel himself from her long enough to help Jimin drag the completed garden beds out of the stable. 

Pushing a hand through her hair, she packed an extra sweatshirt– one of Yoongi’s, just in case she got cold or needed the comfort of his scent, and Seokjin gave her his stuffed alpaca to bring as a companion, a “protector”, as he worded it. She was about ready to take her evening shower and nod off, considering she’d be up the entire night the next day, when a knock came to her bedroom door. Thinking it was Seokjin, she pressed a palm to her forehead and prayed for patience. 

“Coming,” she called, hastily zipping her bag and tossing it by the foot of her bed. However, when she swung the door open, the hybrid standing there wasn’t Seokjin, it was Hoseok, his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats and his ears drooping to either side of his head. 

“Hey, Hoseok, how was practice?” Y/N asked, eyes on his semi-damp wavy locks from his post-practice shower. “Beat any records today?”

Hoseok shook his head, the crewneck sweatshirt he was wearing hugging his lean frame just so. Hoseok wasn’t one to typically drop by her room, if he needed her, he’d usually text or video call and she’d join him in the basement to hang out. Stepping aside wordlessly, Y/N motioned for him to come in, noticing how quiet he was. 

“What’s up? Want to do some yoga with me or something? I could use some meditation before tomorrow,” Y/N flopped down onto her bed, Hoseok imperceptibly flinching at the mention of the following day. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your plans for tomorrow,” Hoseok scratched his chin, slowly lowering himself beside her on the bed and resting his palms on his knees. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I wondered if I could be the one to talk you out of it, if anybody,” Hoseok confessed, a reluctant look on his face. 

Puzzled, Y/N stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but all he did was seemingly collect his thoughts, twiddling his thumbs together. Opening her mouth, she was about to repeat the speech she had given each of them at least a half dozen times already, but Hoseok cleared his throat and stalled her. 

“Hear me out darling?” Hoseok grimaced, his jaw tensing. “Just for a minute.”

“I’m listening,” Y/N conceded, knowing that when Hoseok was that serious and the golden light left his eyes, he had something important to say. 

“You know I don’t really believe in that hocus-pocus crap you, the wolf, and Jeongguk do. Even back in August… I played along when they did that weird ritual on you, but honestly I thought you just had a little bit too much to drink and fell in the hallway,” he began, glancing at Y/N’s vanity, which now held various materials for her practice such as dried herbs and bells. “I don’t like things I can’t explain. I can’t explain what I heard on that recording, and Y/N… I have a bad feeling.”

Y/N didn’t take the first half of Hoseok’s statement offensively. She was familiar enough with Hoseok to know that while he wasn’t exactly a believer in the supernatural, he respected her practice and humored her whenever she offered him cleansing bath salts or asked to waft rosemary smoke around his bedroom. She wasn’t the kind of person to force her beliefs on anyone else, so she was totally fine with the fact that Hoseok didn’t believe in what went bump in the night. 

“A bad feeling, just like everyone else?” Y/N half-smiled, nudging Hoseok in the ribs. Unlike Namjoon or Jimin, Hoseok didn’t mind her trying to find a semblance of humor in the situation– if she didn’t, she’d crumble into a nervous wreck. 

“I get it, you’re probably sick to the back teeth of hearing everyone telling you that you should stay here. For once, I agree with them,” Hoseok nudged her back, mirroring her half-smile. “If what you recorded really was… something paranormal or whatever, I don’t like that it’s targeting you.”

“Well, remember what Jeongguk said? It probably only said that to me because I was the one conducting the EVP session, and it could sense that I know how to banish evil spirits. Sure, it’s a scary thing to hear about oneself, though.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care what the elk has to say. He’s self-serving,” Hoseok hissed, the mood shifting suddenly, Y/N surprised that Hoseok sounded so aggravated. 

“That’s not fair, Hoseok,” Y/N scolded gently, the fox hybrid standing from her bed and staring out of the window into the back yard. “Jeongguk cares. He’s experienced, too. With him there, you should feel better, not worse.”

“He’s self-serving,” Hoseok repeated, making Y/N roll her eyes. Hoseok was like her twin; stubborn, and once he formulated an opinion, it was hard for him to let it go or see it change. “What are the chances I can convince you to stay?”

“Slim-to-none,” Y/N got up as well, joining the fox hybrid by her window, peering up at him curiously. His expression was stormy, his lips pressed into a thin line, and it made Y/N shiver. 

“Fantastic,” Hoseok replied flatly, narrowing his eyes at Y/N. The humor had evaporated the room at that point, Y/N’s half-smile disappearing. 

“Hoseok,” Y/N groaned, tired of having the same conversation over and over again. “You don’t even believe in this stuff. I’ll be perfectly fine, okay?”

“Okay? And what if you’re wrong?” Hoseok shot back, hands on hips and cornering her against a wall, staring down at her beneath his nose. “What then?”

“Well, I guess you’ll have a new reason to believe, then,” Y/N grit her teeth, entirely over the whole debate. She didn’t know how many times she would have to repeat that she’s fine, she’ll be fine, and that they’re all suffocating her with worry. However, her usually well-received sarcasm, at least by Hoseok, did not land gracefully that time.  

“Don’t say that,” Hoseok’s voice was all gravel and menace, anger flashing in his eyes, turning the irises from caramel to mocha. 

“Sorry,” Y/N immediately apologized, her spine now flush with the wall beside her bed, Hoseok trapping her there. “It was just a joke, I didn’t mean it seriously.”

“I’m aware that we have the kind of relationship where we can joke around, but not about your safety, Y/N,” Hoseok’s tone softened, but there was a dangerous edge to it, his eyes skimming her from head to toe as she cowered in front of him, chastised. “On my birthday. The only reason why I agreed to go to a club was because I knew all seven pairs of our eyes would be on you. You only have Namjoon and Jeongguk this time.”

“Hoseok…” Y/N sobered, the fox hybrid so close to her, she was drowning in his fresh, woodsy cologne. “I promised I’d come back in one piece. For you, for all of you. I take my promises seriously.”

Hoseok paused, considering, using a forefinger and thumb to pinch the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, one that had his rib cage expanding quite a bit, Y/N chewing on her lip and placing a hand on the side of his neck tenderly, feeling his erratic pulse under her thumb. 

“Fighting with you…” Hoseok’s throat bobbed, his shoulders sagging. “Sucks. It really fuckin’ sucks.”

“Then let’s not fight. Trust me Hoseok, hmm? We still have so many places to go, you and I. Our road trip this spring to New York, going to Disney World eventually, remember? I’m not about to let a skanky ghost prevent us from traveling the world together,” Y/N attempted to brighten the mood, stroking through the silky short-cropped hair on the nape of his neck. 

“No matter what, you’re always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you, darling,” Hoseok chuckled, making Y/N sigh with relief, reaching up to pinch Hoseok’s cheek. 

“No, that’s you,” Y/N tugged the flesh of his cheek back and forth, making him shake his head, his whole body shuddering with her touch. To her surprise, Hoseok removed her hand from his face, holding onto her wrist, his eyes skimming over the veins that mapped through the skin. “What’s the matter?”

Hoseok said nothing, his thumb brushing over the sensitive area, ears fluttering when Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest. Not realizing how close they had gotten, Hoseok essentially caging her in, Y/N murmured his name considering he was basically stuck in a trance holding her wrist. 

“Can I?” Hoseok’s ears turned back, eyes flicking to hers, pressing his thumb firmly into her delicate wrist. “Please. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N watched Hoseok’s free hand press against the wall beside her face, crowding her against the surface, leveling her a meaningful look.

“I won’t be so rough this time,” Hoseok remarked, absently, Y/N ashamed that she was somewhat disappointed by that statement. “Hold onto me if you want…”

Y/N had no qualms doing so. She snaked her free arm around Hoseok’s trim waist, grabbing a fistful of his sweatshirt, watching him turn her wrist in his palm carefully. Her breath caught when he brought it to his lips, his eyes never breaking from hers when he laid a gentle kiss on her palm, Y/N’s stomach doing somersaults. Ears twitching, catching the intake of breath she made, the corner of his mouth curled up, littering a few more kisses along the length of her wrist. Hoseok paused when goosebumps rose on her forearm when his lips brushed against a particular stretch of skin. 

With one last butterfly wing kiss, Hoseok sunk his incisors into her wrist, Y/N wincing at the razor-sharp sensation, though she was instantly soothed when Hoseok’s free hand moved to curl around her hip, squeezing comfortingly. The sting was gone as swift as it came, Hoseok’s eyes fluttering shut as his teeth pierced her flesh, and the mind-numbing euphoria that came when her hybrids scented her had Y/N’s head nodding into Hoseok’s toned chest. Humming from the back of his throat, he let her lean on him while he bit her, tongue peaking out to catch a droplet of blood leaking from the mark. 

Y/N wasn’t sure whether or not she was murmuring Hoseok’s name deliriously into his chest, eyes rolling to the back of her head when she felt his teeth pull out of her skin, tongue laving over the bleeding wounds methodically. Hoseok was effectively holding her up now, his arm supporting her lower back while he cleaned up his mess, cauterizing the wound as gently as he could. In stark contrast to how aggressively he scented her many months ago, this time around, he was calm, tender, and almost loving, Y/N let herself believe. 

Before her knees could buckle and she dropped to the floor, Hoseok let go of her wrist, using two hands on her hips to hoist her up, Y/N not even making a noise of surprise as he carried her to her bed and set her down gingerly. 

“How’s your head? Fuzzy?” Hoseok questioned, Y/N’s eyes heavy and lidded as she admired the new mark he gave her, already bruising but entirely painless– and when she prodded at it, the site tingled strangely. 

“Huh?” Y/N didn’t actually hear Hoseok, too doped up, considering postponing her shower in favor of just crawling into bed and passing out after all of that. “My what?”

“Nevermind, darling. That answers that,” Hoseok snickered, and he seemed way less jittery than he had when he first came into her bedroom, so Y/N counted that as a bonus. “Want me to have Yoongi bring your dinner in here? You look like you’re about to knock off.”

“Ooh. Will you?” Y/N perked up, the fog in her brain clearing slowly, kicking off her slippers and wiggling beneath her quilt, Hoseok’s radiant smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, Foxy.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Hoseok muttered to himself, and Y/N was still too fuzzy-brained to hear it. He started towards the door, knowing that Y/N would probably be asleep when Yoongi brought dinner around, her eyes almost shut completely, but something about her angelic expression had him stopping by the door and speaking up more loudly. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, honey?” Y/N peered at him from under her eyelashes, the fox hybrid turning a bit sly. 

“You owe me that trip to EPCOT, don’t forget. I’m not ‘drinking around the world’ without you, so you better come back.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide out of pure shock, Hoseok back to his wiseass self, before she dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“I’m taking that as a threat. Don’t come crying to me when we’re four drinks in and you’re all sunburnt.”

“I look forward to it, darling.”

Y/N pulled Yoongi’s hoodie over her head shortly after she, Jeongguk, and Namjoon entered the deserted Sanders’ home. The family themselves had been living in a hotel for the past few weeks as per Y/N’s advice, the current state of the building uninhabitable with all of the spirits infesting it. The worn fabric, infused with Yoongi’s vanilla-and-cloves body wash, offered her somewhat of a lifeline, the home absolutely frigid and charged with thick, uncomfortable energy. Namjoon stuck close to her like an overzealous watchdog, Y/N feeling his sharp gaze on her near constantly as the two of them helped Jeongguk set up cameras. None of them spoke apart from the occasional direction from Jeongguk on where to place a piece of equipment. 

Part of the “agreement” Y/N had begrudgingly accepted was Namjoon taking over the EVP sessions and asking the spirits questions. Really, she was only there as some kind of equipment mule, which she supposed was more than she could ask for, at that point. At least Namjoon had taken her list of follow-up questions to use, while she monitored the computer as he asked them. 

Burying her nose into the collar of Yoongi’s hoodie, letting his scent bathe her in comfort, she sat on one of the living room couches, in pitch-black darkness, waiting for the other two hybrids to finish setting up. The only sources of light, it being quarter past two in the morning, were the tiny lights on the cameras and the odd flash of eyeshine from one of the hybrids milling about with purpose. 

“Everything’s set. This was the last static night vision camera to go up,” Jeongguk broke the silence gruffly, Y/N hearing his combat boots clomping along the hardwood just a few feet away from her. “Let’s do some EVP. I don’t want to be here longer than we have to; we already have plenty of evidence.”

Y/N flinched when she felt Namjoon collapse down beside her on the couch, the EVP device clutched in his hand, Y/N only able to make out the faintest shadow of his side profile. Clearing her throat, she booted up the digital audio workstation in preparation for recording, Jeongguk standing by the living room window where what the three of them called “The Watcher” lingered. 

“Got the list? You two have your shields up, right?” Y/N mumbled to Namjoon, the room dropping a couple of degrees in temperature, as well as the wolf hybrid now staring daggers into the side of her face. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to talk, but she wasn’t about to be mute the entire time. 

“Start up the recording, kiddo,” Jeongguk ignored her questions, his silhouette visible by the window– his antlers making him look like a supernatural creature, himself. 

Sighing, shoving her face further into Yoongi’s hoodie, she did as she was told. The nickname Jeongguk used on her didn’t have its usual affect, considering the elk hybrid explicitly told her and Namjoon not to use their names while in the house, for whatever reason. With a quiet grunt leaving her lips, indicating they were ready to go, Y/N clung to Namjoon’s side as close as she could as he began prattling off inquiries. 

“Who are you watching?” After a series of unanswered questions, Namjoon’s tone was growing frustrated, his tail occasionally batting against Y/N’s behind. Nothing was showing up on her digital audio workstation, either. Finally, however, there was a blip appearing on her computer, Y/N tensing as she actually heard the gritty response amongst the static the EVP detector was putting out. 

“Family.”

“Why are you watching this family?” Namjoon brightened, shushing Jeongguk from across the room, who was tapping his foot impatiently. “How did you get here?”

“Portal. Bedroom.”

Y/N was positive she was grinding her teeth into dust. She was dreading the EVP sessions in the bedrooms, and based on The Watcher’s response, the three of them would be heading up there sooner than she thought. 

Namjoon asked a few more questions, but received no further responses. Sucking his teeth, Namjoon made a motion for Y/N to stop recording, switching off the device he was holding. The room was still heavy with icky energy, but quiet once Namjoon turned off the detector, Y/N expelling the breath she was holding. 

“A portal. I should have known,” Jeongguk remarked, already dismantling a night vision camera to haul upstairs. “That’s why there’s so many entities here. There’s a portal that allows them to freely come and go, and my guess is it’s in one of the bedrooms.”

“Oh! That means that I have a way–” Y/N immediately clammed up when Namjoon pinched her thigh, whimpering at the sharpness of his fingernails. However, he was right to snap her out of it– it wouldn’t have been wise to announce that she had a way to close the portal while they were in the house. 

With that, she silently helped the hybrids bring equipment up to the second floor, following Jeongguk’s direction to begin in Tommy’s bedroom, all while clutching onto the burning dragon’s blood incense like it was a flaming sword. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that the portal was located in that specific bedroom due to the suffocating sensation she had in there weeks ago, one that had her head swimming and breath coming out shallowly. It was a great effort to keep her energetic shield up while in that room, imagining an impenetrable bright golden light surrounding her, and she could feel it taking a good chunk of her lucidity. 

Stiffly, she stood by the door of the room, letting the hybrids take the lead, Jeongguk muttering something in Latin– she assumed it was an expletive due to the acidic way he uttered it. Because she and Namjoon hadn’t captured any audio in that room the last time, they focused on taking video, breaking out the thermometers, and sweeping the area for electromagnetic readings. To no one’s surprise, the electromagnetic detector was going absolutely berserk in that room, specifically in the young boy’s closet. Jeongguk used his teeth to rip a piece of electrical tape to mark the area. 

“I think it’s there,” he announced quietly, Namjoon taking pictures of the closet with flash, lighting up the dark room and making Y/N gnaw on her lip as she saw shadows all around her wolf hybrid. She prayed he was maintaining his shield, but she had spoken one too many times, so she couldn’t mention the shadows curling around the room threateningly. “Let’s get through the girl’s room quickly and get out of here.”

Stomach turning sour, she curled her hands into fists, trying her best not to light her clothes on fire with the burning incense she was religiously replacing as soon as one stick got too low. Namjoon was too busy to hold her hand this time, so she trailed after him closely, feeling utterly sick when they entered Julie’s dark room. Y/N swore she heard growling coming from all angles, low and menacing, but if either of her hybrids noticed, they didn’t say anything about it. Wafting the incense smoke around the space, Y/N concentrated on her shield, waiting for Jeongguk to prop up a single camera and Namjoon to begin the EVP session. 

Turning, she could see outlines of her two hybrids working quickly, but what concerned her the most were the dark shadows now surrounding Jeongguk, too, not just Namjoon, and the density of the shadows were growing by the second. Perhaps Y/N didn’t spend enough time teaching them how to maintain their defenses, or they had forgotten to tend to their shields in the urgency of it all. Before she could say anything, her hackles rising and sensing danger all of a sudden, Namjoon started recording audio and switched on the EVP. 

“Who are you?” Namjoon’s first question rang out loudly, firmly, with an edge of anger to it. “What are you doing here?”

The shadows thickened even more, and it was getting even harder to see either of her hybrids from where she was standing, mere feet away. It was odd that something could be darker than night, like a void, but those shadows were proof in front of her. Queasy, she took a step forward, following the sound of the static coming from the EVP. She hadn’t noticed that her stick of incense had gone out. 

“Did you come from a portal within this home?” Namjoon pressed, clearly pissed he wasn’t getting any answers. 

Jeongguk was scribbling in his notebook furiously, a ballpoint pen scratching against the linen pages when the knocking on the walls started up. Icy fright washed over Y/N, but she tried to keep it together by clutching the selenite in her pocket. Just a few more minutes, a few more questions, and they could leave. And when they would return, it would be in the daylight…

“Give me that shit,” Jeongguk suddenly cursed, snatching the EVP from the wolf hybrid. “Answer us. You can threaten young girls without a problem, but you’re too much of a pussy to show yourself to us?”

Y/N stifled a gasp, definitely not prepared for Jeongguk to antagonize the entity, the shadows pressing down on him immediately in response. He didn’t seem to realize that, though Namjoon certainly did, moving closer to Y/N and his eyes flashing in the darkness when the knocking on the wall turned to pounding. 

“Hybrid scum.” Came through the device Jeongguk was holding, a dry chuckle leaving Jeongguk’s lips. 

“Real original. I’ve had old ladies at convenience stores call me worse,” Jeongguk taunted, Y/N dropping her stick of stubbed-out incense in shock. “Give me something to work with. Prove you’re here.”

The pounding on the walls cut off suddenly. All Y/N could hear besides radio static was the blood rushing in her ears. Shadows still curling around her two hybrids, Y/N really thought something was beginning to go wrong, especially with everything going quiet. Desperate to do anything of use, she squeezed her eyes shut, and with great effort, extended her mental energetic shield around not only herself, but her two hybrids as well. Picturing them in her mind, she felt something warm coasting down her face, ignoring it entirely while she focused on cloaking them all with protection. 

“Judas,” Jeongguk barked, the camera he had set on the tripod knocked off its perch and launching clear across the room, smacking to the floor when the pounding on the walls started up again. Namjoon fumbled with a flashlight to illuminate the room. 

“Elk–” Namjoon sounded panicked, though distant, as Y/N was in a meditative trance focusing on the shield. 

“Shut up,” Jeongguk hissed, continuing with his questions. “Who the fuck are you? Tell us your name.”

Y/N had expended too much energy. It was too much; between attempting to shield three people at once, what felt like spiders crawling up her legs, and all of the noise around her– her eyes snapped open and the shield was broken. At that same moment, two things happened. 

“Fuck!” Jeongguk shouted, pained, hunching over and dropping the EVP device. As the elk hybrid cried out, Y/N’s knees failed her, and she collapsed to the ground in a heap, shakily and blindly trying to reach out for Jeongguk. “Get her out of here. Now.”

Y/N had tears gushing from her waterline, screaming when Namjoon sprung into action, scooping her up around the middle and hauling her over his shoulder. 

“Nooo! Jeongguk!” Y/N wailed, smacking Namjoon’s back desperately as he thundered down the stairs, through the living room, and outside into the night. “Namjoon put me DOWN! We can’t leave him!”

Namjoon didn’t say a word, taking her beating as she struck and pummeled his back, the wolf hybrid hastily yanking open the door to his van and carrying her inside. Fully sobbing by now, the strength she used to try and get herself out of Namjoon’s arms completely zapped, Namjoon quickly started the van to both heat and light it up. Crying brokenly, she went limp, the wolf hybrid moving to the booth in the back of the vehicle, manipulating her limbs so she sat securely on his lap, a forearm braced across her stomach to keep her in place. 

“J-Joon… Jeongguk’s hurt, why did we leave him?” Y/N whimpered, weakly trying to pry his arm off of her midsection. She might as well have been trying to pry off a metal bar on a roller coaster that was across her lap. 

“He’s just getting the equipment. He’ll be out in a minute,” Namjoon murmured in her ear, his free hand searching for something on the booth’s table. 

“But–”

“Hush,” Namjoon interrupted, using his thumb on her chin to tilt her head back, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern, something feathery and soft clutched in the remainder of his long fingers. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Hand trembling, Y/N touched her lips, her fingertips coming away wet and soaked with blood. Namjoon’s ears were flat when he began dabbing away at her face with the tissue, mopping up the blood first and having Y/N hold the tissue to her nose. Tears still streaming down her face, Namjoon’s chest rumbled, reaching across the table for another tissue before he began blotting those away as well.

“You shouldn’t have extended your shield to us like that. You’re going to need a few days to recover,” Namjoon commented when Y/N’s sobs slightly mellowed into pathetic blubbering. She was going to reply when a loud scrape against the van door had her shrieking. 

“Just me, kiddo,” Jeongguk hauled himself into the van, his camera and the equipment bag in one hand, his complexion pale and sweaty as he dumped everything on the ground. “Camera’s fuckin’ toast. Demon prick.”

Turning into a puddle of relief against Namjoon’s chest, her eyes were watering again, thanking the moon and the stars that he made it back to the van. Somehow, the sight of the elk hybrid gave her a spark of revival, patting the back of Namjoon’s hand so he’d let her up. He did so, reluctantly, one hand on her waist as she stood. 

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice was scratchy and raw due to the screaming and crying, but Jeongguk simply nodded and looked behind her, right at Namjoon. 

“Step on it, wolf. We need to leave, now,” Jeongguk ordered, Namjoon growling at the command but making his way to the driver’s seat anyways, releasing Y/N’s waist in the process. “Call Seokjin, Y/N.”

“W-what?” 

“The investigation is over. He told me he expects a call, so call him,” Jeongguk collapsed into the booth, wincing when his back hit the seat. 

It dawned on her, turning her head to the kitchenette, where she left both her phone and Seokjin’s stuffed alpaca on the countertop to remind her whenever they finished. Grasping for both items, she sunk into the booth across from Jeongguk before Namjoon threw the van in drive and sped off down the street. Clutching the plushie to her chest, Seokjin picked up on the first ring. 

“Pretty girl? Is it over? What happened?” Seokjin blurted in quick succession. 

“On our way home,” Y/N sniffed, hugging the stuffed alpaca even closer to her chest, Seokjin releasing a shuddering exhale through the receiver. 

“Were you crying? Love, are you hurt?” Seokjin continued, Y/N picturing his worried expression. 

“No, I’m not hurt. Just shaken up, is all. But… We’ll be home in half an hour, so I’ll see you then and tell you all about it, honey?” 

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the call, Y/N feeling bad that she wasn’t exactly Chatty Cathy, but Seokjin had always been understanding. 

“I’ll be waiting. I’ll make some tea, okay? I love you,” Seokjin’s smooth voice soothed her, wrapped her in warmth, and sooner than she thought she could, she smiled. 

“Thank you, I love you too, honey. And thank you for loaning me your plushie.”

She hung up from Seokjin, shooting a quick text to all of the others to give them her ETA, her fingers pausing over the keyboard when Jeongguk made an audible wince, shifting in his seat. 

“Sweets, are you…?”

“Y/N, get the camera, the one that has the flash,” Jeongguk was still pale, wiping sweat from his brow despite how cold it still was outside.

Eyebrow raised, she obeyed, fishing around for it in the hastily-packed equipment bag. When she turned, she squeaked; Jeongguk was in the middle of stripping his black turtleneck off, crumpling it into a ball once he untangled it from his antlers and holding it to cover his chest. Y/N stood there, stunned, both of his sleeves on display, his toned abs caved in as he slouched, biting down harshly on his lip ring. 

“There’s something on my back, take a picture of it,” Jeongguk, rigidly, turned in the booth, revealing the expanse of his bare back to Y/N frozen there like a garden gnome. “Evidence.”

Y/N, this time, could not stifle her gasp. It was the first time she saw the great black-and-white tattoo covering most of his back, but horrifyingly, the excitement of that was squashed by the three long, bleeding scratches across the flesh. The scratches appeared like they were made by an animal with talons, starting at one of his shoulders and ending at his opposite hip, red and inflamed, marring the elegant lines of the tattoo. Y/N couldn’t even process what the tattoo depicted, her heart in her throat when she saw the scratches. 

“Holy fuck, Jeongguk,” Y/N exclaimed, rooted to her spot behind him with the camera in one of her hands, forgotten. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Namjoon called from the driver’s seat, trying to see what was going on by peering into the rearview mirror. 

“Jeongguk got scratched,” Y/N reported, her cadence wobbly from trying to swallow down more tears. 

“Take the picture, Y/N,” Jeongguk spoke through his teeth, bracing his forearms on the booth’s table. 

“Jeongguk, watch your goddamn tone,” Namjoon warned, speeding onto the highway in the direction of their home. “Stop ordering her around like a spoiled prince.”

For once, Jeongguk didn’t have a snide remark, a bead of sweat rolling down his spine and mingling with the blood, the sting of it making him hiss and groan. Frantically, Y/N snapped several pictures from different angles, her heart clenching as she watched blood ooze from one of the deeper gashes. 

“Good? You got them?”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N said gravely, setting down the camera and reaching for her overnight bag. “Now it’s my turn to call the shots, you two. Jeongguk, you’re gonna sit still and let me bandage you, and Joon, you’re gonna slow down at least 15 miles per hour.”

She could have bet a fair sum that Namjoon chuckled from the front seat, but he heeded her request, lightly pressing the breaks and merging into the slowest lane on the highway. Jeongguk was still slouched, though uncharacteristically free of protests when Y/N sat directly behind him, setting her first-aid kit on the table with a solemn thunk. 

“You know, I hoped I wouldn’t have to use this…” Y/N sighed, opening up the kit and rummaging through it for some alcohol wipes. Due to how long the three scratches were, she’d probably need all of the wipes she had in the plastic box. “Jeongguk, we promised Julie we wouldn’t instigate the spirits. Why did you do that?”

“We weren’t going to get anywhere unless I did,” Jeongguk grunted while Y/N used her teeth to tear a wipe packet open, swiping it along his left shoulder where the scratches began. 

“I… hmm. How do I put this,” Y/N methodically cleaned up Jeongguk’s wounds, starting to make out the image his tattoo depicted– some kind of winged, cloaked figure. “I know you have lots of experience, Jeongguk. But I think, had I known that was where your thought process was leading, things could have gone a lot better. The element of surprise when it comes to these investigations, between teammates, is so, so, stupid and reckless.”

From the front seat, Namjoon hummed loudly in agreement. Jeongguk simply kept his mouth shut, Y/N not knowing whether or not he was giving her the silent treatment, jolting in his seat when she passed an alcohol wipe over a particularly deep scratch. 

“So next time, if you want to go Zak Bagans on the spirits, just run it by me first. Alright?”

Jeongguk grumbled in offense, Y/N too tired to scold him any further. Happy with how she cleaned the scratches, she tossed the last slightly-bloodied alcohol wipe on the table, pulling soothing and antibacterial ointment out of her kit. The cab of the van was quiet except for the folk tape Namjoon switched on, which was turned down low for ambience. Y/N had a suspicion he put it on for some comfort. 

She had never been able to touch so much of Jeongguk’s skin. Of course, he ran hot like all of the other hybrids, Y/N’s fingertips gingerly applying ointment to his scratches. Trying to be gentle, she cooed when Jeongguk flinched again as her fingers passed over his mid-back. As she worked, she admired not only the tattoo covering his back, but the ones wrapping around his triceps and elbows. Attempting to distract him from the pain, Y/N dared to ask him a question. 

“Sweets? What’s this tattoo on your back? Is it a fallen angel or something?”

“Saw it on the wall in the shop and liked it. I don’t know, it’s some kind of winged grim reaper,” Jeongguk’s shoulders shrugged indifferently, Y/N taking a moment to sit back and really get a good look at it. 

Indeed, the figure resembled a skeleton, cloaked in black, holding a scythe. Its large wings extended over Jeongguk’s shoulder blades, the tips of the wings nearly meeting at the nape of his neck, where Y/N had seen the tattoo peeking out from the backs of his shirts on one or two occasions. The tattoo was expertly done, the linework precise and bold, Y/N running a finger over one of the wings, Jeongguk’s muscles tensing. 

“How did you afford all of those tattoos and holes in your face and ears while on the run?” Namjoon asked, in a way that told Y/N that he had been holding onto that question for quite some time. 

“I exorcized a tattoo shop in L.A. before I got out of that cesspool,” Jeongguk explained, Y/N resuming her task by cutting strips of gauze for his bandages. “It was like one of my first ‘gigs’ or whatever. Anyways, the owner was so grateful, she pretty much gave me unlimited tattoos and piercings free of charge. And with the prices of these fucking things–” Jeongguk gestured to some of the ink on his biceps, “I took advantage of that free ticket.”

“That’s a cool story,” Y/N remarked, realizing she didn’t have a lot of information on Jeongguk’s past, other than how he came to Gerry’s shelter all those months ago. “This one on your back is beautiful. She did such a nice job.”

“Thanks,” Jeongguk began rubbing at his bicep, Y/N surprised he thanked her at all as she began taping gauze to his back. 

“What’s this one?” Y/N poked his deltoid, unable to make it out, letting her eyes roam all over his arms indulgently. It was the first time she had an excuse to gawk at them. 

“That’s the moon, kiddo. What are you blind?” Jeongguk turned his face slightly, staring down at the tattoo on his shoulder, Y/N glancing at his side profile; the sharpness of his nose, the labret threaded through his eyebrow, the angle of his jaw. 

“How many do you think you have? Oh, it must be hard to count, considering they’re sleeves. Do you have any on your legs? What was your most painful piercing?” Y/N rapid-fired, both unable to help herself and loving that the conversation was distracting her from the fact that her elk hybrid had gotten hurt under her watch. 

“Whoa, slow down. What is this, twenty questions?”

“You could at least do me the courtesy of answering one,” Y/N muttered resentfully, smoothing the last pieces of tape in place. 

“I’m not going to tell you which piercing was the most painful, it depends on the person,” Jeongguk replied, an odd tone taking over his voice– awkwardness? “So fine. No tattoos on my legs. Happy?”

“Satisfied,” Y/N confirmed, smirking. “Alright, you’re patched up. You should probably skip the salt bath until they’re more healed. I’ll just waft some palo santo over you or something when we get home.”

Jeongguk shifted, sitting correctly in the booth now, this time not grimacing when his back hit the fabric of the booth. Y/N’s eyes went to his black turtleneck, forgotten beside him, and before she could stop herself, her greedy gaze was on his chest– and she was not prepared for what she saw. 

Besides the fact that Jeongguk was well-muscled, almost like a dancer, his chest was free of any ink, but there was something that had her mouth dropping open when her eyes trailed upwards. Jeongguk had his nipples pierced, silver barbells threaded through them, which had Y/N positively reeling. She supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised, he had countless piercings in his ears and the two in his face, but the sight of the nipple piercings had her mouth watering and heat flooding her cheeks. 

“What?” Jeongguk lifted his eyebrow, noticing her gaping fish mouth. 

“Nothing! I’m gonna go sit up front!” Y/N blurted, stuffing the first-aid kit into her overnight bag and scrambling to the front of the vehicle, scooping up Seokjin’s plushie as she went.

Jeongguk snorted as she hobbled away, struggling back into his turtleneck– even though Y/N ordered special ones that had stretchy necks to cater to hybrids with antlers, it was still a sort of gymnastics routine for him. 

“How are you doing?” Namjoon inquired once she buckled in beside him, never taking his eyes off the road. 

“I’m better, but exhausted. Sorry for going postal on you. Is your back bruised?”

“Please,” Namjoon scoffed, sucking his teeth. “It was like someone throwing pebbles at me.”

“Way to stroke my ego, Joon Bug,” Y/N grouched, sinking into the oversized fabric of Yoongi’s sweatshirt with an exaggerated offended expression. 

“We’re almost back,” Namjoon commented, sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “You definitely need at least 10 hours of sleep. Doing what you did with the shield–”

“Was idiotic?” Jeongguk offered from the back of the van, Y/N giving him the finger over the back of her headrest. 

“No, jackass. Unwise, I would say,” Namjoon bared his teeth at Jeongguk through the rearview mirror. 

“I saw shadows around you two. I didn’t know whether or not you guys were maintaining your own shields, that’s why I did it. I only wanted to protect you,” Y/N defended her actions, pouting and cradling the alpaca plushie in her arms. 

With that, the two hybrids stopped chiding her, the weight of her words having the both of them regretting saying anything at all. Namjoon cleared his throat, turning the volume up on his tape, Y/N giggling when she heard Jeongguk complain noisily. 

“I get scratched by a fuckin’ demon, now I have to listen to some asshole play the spoons on a tape from 1955,” he groaned, Namjoon shaking his head while he pulled off of the highway, into their town. “I need a cigarette.”

“Are you bleeding? I can smell your blood,” Seokjin tackled her as soon as she stepped a singular toe into the foyer, a note of panic in his tone as he gathered her in his arms, frantically tracking his eyes all over her body for any sign of injury. 

“I had a nosebleed on the way home. I’m okay, honey,” Y/N sunk into Seokjin’s embrace, winding her arms around his neck. She was wilting with exhaustion, at that point, but she knew she’d have to make the rounds to assure everyone she was unharmed. “I missed you bunches.”

Seokjin didn’t respond with words, instead his chest vibrated with elated purrs that she was home, in his arms, safe and sound. Placing a gentle kiss between her eyebrows, Seokjin released her so she could greet everyone else lingering in the foyer, though he remained by her side. Y/N knew it would take a crowbar forged from diamonds to get the jaguar hybrid to remove himself from her proximity, at that point. 

Jeongguk shouldered by her with the equipment bag, bidding her a goodnight, immediately blasting up the stairs to his room. Y/N’s gaze followed him, and in consequence she caught sight of Taehyung, who was sitting on the landing with his palms on his knees. Blinking at her, she offered him a wave, one he returned timidly. 

“Catch any ghosts?” Hoseok was leaning against the door to the basement, dark circles under his eyes from staying up so late. It was well past four in the morning, Y/N a little sheepish knowing everyone stayed awake waiting for her return. 

“Caught more than ghosts,” Namjoon muttered from behind Y/N, rifling through her overnight bag to look for the bundles of rosemary to burn. 

“Yeah, not my department,” Hoseok shook his head, Y/N weakly snorting at the joke. “Welcome home, darling. I’m gonna hit the hay, I can barely see you standing there.”

Jimin returned from behind the stairs where he was hanging up Y/N’s coat in the closet, relief all over his face, seeing her very much intact and in front of him. All who was missing was Yoongi, who Y/N suspected was in the kitchen. Jimin bade her goodnight, as did Namjoon, who reminded her to cleanse herself with the rosemary before going to bed, and under her nose, Taehyung slipped away silently into his bedroom upstairs. 

“Let’s get you some tea,” Seokjin grabbed her hand and herded her to the kitchen, Y/N wobbly on her feet as she clutched Seokjin’s plushie under her free arm. “Then you’re going to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Y/N chuckled tiredly, squeezing his palm as they entered the lowly-lit kitchen, Y/N finding her suspicion to be correct– Yoongi was by the stove, using a pot holder to take the kettle off of the flame. “I’m back…”

Yoongi turned, sparkles in his eyes as he took her in, a look of significance blossoming over his face. That time, she did come back to him. 

“You look like you got sucker punched,” Yoongi said, contrary to the meaningful telepathic interaction the two of them had. “Was it bad?”

“It was pretty bad,” Y/N admitted, Seokjin humming sadly and sliding his hand down her back. “Jeongguk got scratched.”

“No shit,” Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, pouring her a cup of chamomile tea. “But you weren’t harmed, right?”

“Nope, I just gave myself a nosebleed. Exerted too much energy,” Y/N replied, accepting the steamy mug of tea. Perhaps she should have found it odd, standing in the kitchen between two hybrids she was romantically involved with, but she found it natural instead. “I think I know how to get rid of the infestation now, though. That second investigation was necessary.”

She didn’t expect Seokjin or Yoongi to reply, as the two of them weren’t really into the paranormal, so she sipped her tea with a hum, watching Yoongi wash the kettle. 

“Well, make a plan of attack later. You need to sleep,” Yoongi pointed out, his own face puffy with exhaustion. Seokjin agreed with him, already trying to drag her to her bedroom, Yoongi following close behind with some water and a packet of ibuprofen. 

In her room, Seokjin started turning her bed down for her while Yoongi placed the water on her nightstand, Y/N shrugging and deciding to change into pajamas. Too drained to give a shit, she stripped down to her bra and panties, fishing around in her dresser for a suitable giant tee shirt to sleep in. A sharp gasp filled the room, Y/N lifting a brow and looking over her shoulder. Both of them were gawking at her state of undress, Seokjin with his hand clasped over his mouth– probably the one that gasped, and Yoongi was frozen solid by her bed, staring at her ass. Perv. 

“What? Nothing you two haven’t seen,” Y/N muttered, cheeks ablaze when she shoved a shirt over her head, the material skimming the tops of her thighs. 

Seokjin’s neck was red, averting his eyes from her scantily clothed figure in favor of straightening out her quilt. Yoongi’s ears fluttered playfully, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips, Y/N shaking her head at him. 

“Gonna brush my teeth. Want to chat for a little bit before I go to sleep?” Y/N changed the subject, addressing both of the hybrids, a small amount of shaky hope in her voice. She didn’t really want to be left alone yet, truthfully. Seokjin picked up on the unsaid, nodding, and Yoongi simply collapsed heavily on her vanity chair. 

After her teeth were brushed, she climbed into bed, Seokjin more than used to climbing in beside her, happily chattering away about his evening without her. Apparently, he and Yoongi made a new recipe for dinner, they watched a French movie Hoseok picked out, and polished off all of the ice cream. Yoongi remained seated at her vanity, occasionally joining the conversation, but Y/N could tell he was ready to pass out. She was just as ready, suddenly, Seokjin’s voice luring her into sleep, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. 

“Alright, I need to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning, or afternoon, whenever you wake up,” Yoongi stood, running a hand through his mussed hair. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, still tucked into Seokjin’s side, frowning deeply. 

“Just stay here,” Y/N whined, Yoongi pausing in the doorway, looking from her to Seokjin. “There’s room on my other side. Don’t leave me.”

Yoongi appeared conflicted, weighing his options, but Y/N’s pathetic pout is what won him over. Sighing, he rounded the bed, Seokjin helpfully scooching over, and after a few seconds, Y/N was happily sandwiched between her two feline hybrids. 

“Hope you don’t talk in your sleep,” Seokjin possessively wound an arm around Y/N’s middle while addressing Yoongi, turning on his side and pressing his chest to her back. “Like she does.”

“What?! I talk in my sleep?” Y/N squawked, scowling at Yoongi’s face scrunched up in laughter. 

“You do,” Yoongi admitted, brushing hair out of her face, his tail winding around one of her legs. She was surrounded on all sides, hiding her face in Yoongi’s neck out of embarrassment– and all she could think about was how much better Yoongi’s scent was straight from the source, rather than on the fabric of a hoodie. “Last time I heard you talk in your sleep, you were saying something about wanting a piña colada.”

“Actually, you know what? You two can leave now,” Y/N grumbled into Yoongi’s skin, both of them snickering. Seokjin simply tightened his hold on her, planting a kiss on her nape, Yoongi tracing patterns over her arm as she clutched the front of his shirt. “Goodnight.”

Y/N closed her eyes, Yoongi’s and Seokjin’s purrs mingling together and comforting her immensely. Warm, protected, and safe, she drifted off to sleep at lightning speed, her two lovers holding her close. 

“Do you wanna finish learning ‘Bella’s Lullaby’ or not?” Yoongi threatened, his toes curling as Y/N peppered the side of his face with tiny kisses. She was feeling particularly clingy that Friday, after all, she had spent several days after the investigation mostly laying on the couch like a limp tube sock, eating TV dinners and watching trash reality. 

“No, I wanna eat you whole,” Y/N teased, lightly nipping the apple of his cheek, Yoongi rolling his eyes and removing the arm he had around her. “Ugh. Can you teach me something else? Something you composed, I wanna learn something written by the great Mr. Min.” 

“Aren’t I Mr. Y/L/N now? As of August of last year?” Yoongi shot back dryly, Y/N staring at him like he grew a second head. “You didn’t know that? We all have your last name now. They’re printed on our IDs and credit cards for Christ’s sake, silly girl!”

“I never noticed,” Y/N squeaked, fanning herself. For some reason, finding that out had her heart growing three sizes. “Don’t change the subject, angel. Teach me something of yours, please?”

She drew out the syllables of please, knowing that Yoongi had a weakness for her brand of begging. It had the effect she wanted, rosiness coloring his cheeks, rolling his wrists in preparation to play. 

“Well, you already know how to play your song,” Yoongi mumbled, flipping through his book of sheet music contemplatively. He stilled when he got to a particular page, Y/N skimming over the hand-written score with a lip tucked in between her teeth. “This one…”

“One of yours, right?” Y/N confirmed, squinting at the sheet music, noticing tiny lyrics written on the measures in tight, unreadable cursive. 

“One of my firsts,” Yoongi replied. Sighing, he began to play a few bars, the melody simple but slow and jazzy, very different from the song he composed for Y/N. “I think you’ll be able to play it.”

“I love it. Teach me,” Y/N bouncing on the bench beside him, enthused. Yoongi glanced at her side profile, something unreadable in his eyes, though he indulged her anyways and helped her through the first few verses. 

“I wish I could read the lyrics, did you write those too?” 

“No, baby,” Yoongi cleared his throat, twitching uncomfortably. Frowning, Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. “My mom did.”

“Oh,” Y/N stopped fiddling with the piano keys, recalling Yoongi’s profile from the hybrid database– Yoongi was born naturally, unlike most hybrids who were created from labs, and Y/N remembered that on the profile, it mentioned that his mother had passed away. “She’s musical like you?”

“She was,” Yoongi’s mouth flattened into a line, a pit forming in Y/N’s stomach. “She was a singer. We used to perform together at The Black Lodge before she died.”

“I’m sorry, Yoongi…” Y/N whispered, covering the back of his hand with hers. “You wrote this with her?”

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Moonlight Lovers’. She would only want to perform it on nights with a full moon,” Yoongi half-smiled, his eyes going far away as he relived the memory. “I haven’t played it in years…”

“When… When did she pass away?” Y/N asked gently, tangling one of her hands with his, wanting to know a little bit more about the hybrid she loved, his history before she came to know him. 

“A little bit over three years ago. She was in a bad car accident,” Yoongi screwed up his mouth, thumb brushing over the back of Y/N’s hand. “Drunk driver hit her while she was in a cab. The cab driver didn’t make it either– the entire cab burst into flames because the drunk slammed into the engine just so.”

“Oh my god,” blood was draining from Y/N’s face, horrified, watching Yoongi bitterly grimace with his ears drooping. “What about the drunk driver?” 

“Also dead at the scene. Thankfully, or I would have fucking killed him myself,” Yoongi wrapped an arm around Y/N’s lower waist, kissing her temple when he could scent heavy sadness coming from her. “Don’t be sad. My mom… she lived a full life, but wild. She knew, and deep down so did I, that it would end in smoke and flames.”

“What do you mean, angel?” Y/N frowned, unsure what he meant by that, Yoongi using his free hand to play an absent melody on the piano. 

“Well, she had a taste for scum-of-the-earth men that would come into the bar. She’d leave for days on end, and I wouldn’t see her until she had to sing on the weekends. More often than not, she’d come back drunk and high on some sort of pharmaceutical cocktail,” Yoongi continued to play the melody as he spoke, holding Y/N close and soaking in her warmth. “Don’t get me wrong. She was a great mom, I adored her. But her priorities were always messed up… I mean, I have no idea who my father was, and I don’t think she did, either. The only time she really seemed grounded was when we’d perform the songs we composed together.”

It was a lot for Y/N to process at once. Yoongi simply hummed, tracing circles with his thumb on Y/N’s waist under her shirt, letting all of that information sink in for her. Yoongi wasn’t fond of sharing personal details of his past or himself in general. But sharing it with the woman he loved turned out to not be so bad, and if anything, a great weight was lifted off his chest. The hollow misery that would fill him whenever he thought of his mother turned into bittersweet nostalgia. 

“She raised you, so she must have been an amazing person.”

Y/N’s simple response stunned Yoongi completely. Out of all of the things she could have chosen to say, it was something that not only praised his mother, but complimented Yoongi’s very character. Purring, he was entirely out of a reply, watching Y/N in a daze work her way through the first measure of ‘Moonlight Lovers’, his heart racing. 

“Yeah, she was,” Yoongi mumbled, pulling her closer to his side. “You play it well. When I was a kid, I begged my mom to play this song for me on my birthday.”

“And would she?”

“Mm-hmm. Every year.”

“Even if there wasn’t a full moon on your birthday?”

“Even then.”

Y/N paused her playing, expression becoming thoughtful as she scanned Yoongi’s face. He smiled at her tenderly, leaning into her touch when she tucked some inky hair behind his ear.

“Your birthday is in a couple of weeks,” Y/N pointed out, cupping the side of his face with care. “I think I’ll have to practice this piece extra hard so I can play it for you then.”

Stunned again, Yoongi’s hazel eyes glittered, turning his head slightly to brush his lips against Y/N’s palm.

“Okay, then you better get started, sweetheart,” Yoongi tapped the sheet music, even though he wanted to melt into a puddle. Y/N saluted him, launching into the piece straight away with a concentrated pout to her lips. 

Y/N tried, as hard as she could, not to let the tempo falter when Yoongi began to sing, softly and quietly as she played. His deep, raspy voice was surprisingly melodic and velvety at the same time, and Y/N pictured the day of his birthday coming up. The two of them ‘performing’ that piece, with him singing and her accompanying him– the first time he would get to hear the song on his birthday in three years. Y/N couldn’t really think of a better gift for Yoongi. Leaning into his shoulder, Yoongi launched into the chorus. 

“And we met under the moonlit sky…”

Saturday morning, dreary and rainy, had Y/N leisurely stirring cream into her second cup of coffee while her and the hybrids clumped around the TV in the parlor to catch a bit of morning news. Y/N tried her best to keep herself updated, but usually could only stomach about fifteen minutes of the news before one of the hybrids changed the station to something else. Hoseok, at her feet in front of the couch, was letting her absently twist and braid his wavy auburn hair while he snacked on a breakfast sausage. 

Not having any plans for the day, Y/N resolved to do a whole lot of nothing by having an indulgent bath with oils and ordering her favorite Thai food for dinner. She knew that Sunday she’d be cornered by Jeongguk and Namjoon, when they’d try to figure out how to best close the portal in the Sanders’ house. But mercifully, the two of them allowed her a lazy Saturday before diving back into the unknown. 

“Oh great. More shitty weather next week,” Hoseok complained, because even though it was the very beginning of March, winter in Massachusetts was bitterer than ever. “This is the longest winter of my life.”

“Alright, alright. You’ll be upset about the pollen count soon enough. You can change it now,” Y/N felt around her vicinity for the remote, her hand brushing up against Taehyung’s jean-clad thigh beside her. 

Y/N was surprised that the Kodiak hybrid even sat next to her, he had been so absent lately that she had to constantly check he was even home. Granted, many times he wasn’t– he had been taking one of the cars out quite often to apparently snap pictures of the Boston Common or pick up more film, but Y/N felt the distance between them the most when he had his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. 

“Seen the remote, Tae?” Y/N asked, Jimin coming up empty on her other side, Taehyung evidently not hearing her as he scratched one of his rounded, fuzzy brown ears. “Taehyung.”

Repeating his name more loudly, Taehyung’s thumbs flying over his phone screen stilled abruptly, snapping his head towards her with alarm all over his face. Y/N lifted a brow, thinking there was no way that it was a phone game capturing his attention so thoroughly, Y/N had acid roiling in her gut. 

“What–?”

Taehyung, however, was interrupted by the loud ringing and bright flashes from the TV, indicating important breaking news, which had Seokjin flinching in the leather recliner and Y/N swearing colorfully. 

“Good morning, America. Breaking news from Congress after lengthy discussions over the past several weeks. The rumors are confirmed; a major law surrounding the hybrid species has been passed. As of today, March 4th, 2023, legally adopted hybrids may be permitted to seek legal part-time employment and various establishments. This newly-passed law indeed includes another hot-button issue: many state universities will now begin the early stages of developing academic courses for adopted hybrids. Please bear with us as we continue to collect information from Congress, and stay tuned for an in-depth debriefing from The White House later this evening.” 

“Huh?!” Hoseok shot up from Y/N’s feet like a rocket, shouting and pointing at the woman reporting the news on their flatscreen. “What the fuck?!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth, unable to believe her mother was right about the rumors floating around. 

“Wait, we can get jobs now? Legally?” Jeongguk’s voice was behind Y/N, hiking the volume up on the TV– apparently, he was the one who was hoarding it the entire time. 

Namjoon, who was shuffling his deck of Tarot cards on the table where he and Y/N usually played chess in front of the fireplace, was still as could be. The day Y/N adopted Namjoon in August, he had lamented the fact that he could never have legal employment, so the news came out of left field for him. 

“Did she say universities are going to take hybrid students now, too?” Jimin piped up, that look of conflicting emotions he often had written all over his handsome face. 

“The lady said universities are coming up with programs for hybrids, coyote. Do you need to clean out your ears?” Jeongguk crossed his arms, standing beside the couch and staring at the television. “Does this mean you want us filling out applications for McDonald’s, Y/N?”

Y/N extended her leg, colliding her foot against his ass to shove Jeongguk away from her line of vision with great annoyance. She groaned when the elk hybrid didn’t budge an inch. 

“No, you can do whatever you want. They just announced this, so we don’t have all the details yet. But, if one of you wants to apply for some kind of part-time work or take a university course, it’s entirely up to you,” Y/N replied when she felt several of them waiting for her to agree with Jeongguk. “Unless you actually want to work at McDonald’s, Jeongguk, then be my guest. Just make sure you bring me some nuggets home when you clock out.”

Jimin was snickering beside her, while Taehyung was gawking at the TV, his phone forgotten in his lap for the first time in a couple of weeks. Hoseok was amped, his tail wagging as he made laps around the room, Y/N able to see the gears turning in his head. Yoongi, who wasn’t in the room when the announcement came on the screen, appeared from the kitchen, shooting Y/N a very specific look– one that read ‘I’m not leaving this house more than I already have to’. 

“Jinnie, maybe you could get a job at a restaurant! You’d make a good host with that pretty, pretty face,” Hoseok teased on his fourth lap of the room, poking the jaguar hybrid in the shoulder. However, Seokjin didn’t seem interested, much like Yoongi, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. 

Y/N was about to persuade Hoseok to sit back down before she got dizzy watching him pace before her phone chimed, Y/N figuring it was her mother gloating that she was right all along. 

Judy: I’m assuming you heard the news? Tell Namjoon and Jeongguk they are now officially employed by me, that is, if they’re up for it 💫

Blinking at the message, she tucked it away for later, considering the room was full of overlapping conversations and excitement. It was good to know that Namjoon and Jeongguk would get paid for their hard working efforts after all, and considering Jeongguk got scratched on the job, a paycheck was the least he was due.

With that, Y/N spent much of the day clinging to the news station with the hybrids, contrary to her usual 15 minute limit. Between that, peering over Jimin’s shoulder to read the articles about hybrid academic courses he really seemed to be interested in, and finally managing to get Hoseok to sit and calm down, Y/N was dreaming of her end-of-day hot bath every time she shut her eyes to blink. 

“Of course I heard the news, Al,” Y/N had her best friend on speaker, pouring various scented oils into her bathtub before running the tap. “Hoseok already has an offer from the rec center, they want him to coach the junior track team. They contacted Yoongi, too, but I don’t think he’ll take them up on it.”

“Oh my god. They’re gonna be coaching hybrid kids? That’s so adorable,” Alice squealed, Y/N agreeing with her. 

“I think Taehyung got a call, too. Not overseeing the children’s classes, but to stay behind after his meetings and help develop pictures and organize. At least, that’s what I could squeeze from him before he went out with Yoongi and Hoseok to get more information at the rec center.”

“Still being weird?” Alice’s voice turned sympathetic, up-to-date on Taehyung’s strange behavior ever since they all went to the club for Hoseok’s birthday.

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on with him. After Namjoon, Jeongguk and I wrap up the Sanders’ case, I’m going to try and corner him for another chat. Even though the two of us royally suck at communication. I just wanna clear the air if he’s still annoyed with me or whatever.”

“Or find out what’s keeping him so occupied on his phone,” Alice pointed out, making Y/N grunt. 

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough. I’m not gonna pry into his business, but I want to know why he’s been so here-but-not-there.”

“So, where are your other boys?” Alice changed the subject, not wanting to upset her friend after such a long, crazy day. 

“Oh, uh… Jimin went with the other three. He seems to be more interested in the academia aspect of the newly passed law. The rec center has a bunch of pamphlets on what the universities are beginning to plan for hybrid students. Namjoon and Jeongguk went out, too. They need to replace a camera that broke during our second investigation.”

“And your newest beau?” Alice referred to Seokjin, since Y/N had told her about the shift in their relationship shortly after Valentine’s Day. 

“Making me dinner,” Y/N giggled– Seokjin had been elated that everyone else had cleared out of the house, claiming that they could have their ‘second date’. “I was gonna order Thai, but he wanted to try and make it himself.”

“God, is he romantic,” Alice swooned, happy for her best friend. “Oh my god. I forgot to mention. I have a date tonight, too!”

“What?! Al, you didn’t say you were talking to anyone! Spill!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I was talking to him. Remember me telling you about Jeremy, the guy who works at the newspaper with me? He asked me out last week. I almost died.”

Y/N cheered, considering Alice had finally scored a date with her longtime workplace crush, a young man with a preference for funky sweater vests and the tendency to show Alice videos of his cat at home. He was literally perfect for Alice. 

“Of course I remember him! Oh my god, imagine you two fall in love? Heathcliff will have a new sibling!” Y/N thought of Alice’s grouchy Maine Coon, snorting at the thought of having another cat in his household. 

“No, I know. I’m so excited. I have to start getting ready, though, he’s picking me up at 7 and we’re going to dinner and a used bookstore.”

“So he’s your soulmate,” Y/N gushed, ecstatic. Alice hadn’t been in a relationship in years, so it was nice for her to seem so interested in pursuing one with Jeremy. “Call me tomorrow and tell me all about it, please.”

“Only if you tell me about your stay-at-home date with Seokjin,” Alice replied, and with that, Y/N tossed her phone onto her bed with a grin. 

Seokjin told her to take her time with her bath while he made dinner, so she did. Going all out, she lit candles, had Sade playing from the portable speaker, and relaxed in the silky hot water until it became lukewarm. Muscles loose and pliable, she sighed in bliss as she massaged lotion into her skin. Sniffing the air, the scent of lemongrass and savory sauce filling the room made her stomach growl. Y/N simply pulled on comfortable undergarments, tied the sash of her robe tightly around her waist, and slid on her slippers before she was shuffling out into the hall. 

Both following her nose and her ears, hearing Seokjin’s voice sing along to a pop song playing on his phone, Y/N caught him sprinkling crushed peanuts over a couple of plates of homemade Pad Thai. So wrapped up in what he was doing, a satisfied smile on his face, he didn’t realize Y/N was leaning against the coffee bar watching and listening. 

“You have such a pretty voice, Seokjinnie,” Y/N announced her arrival, Seokjin squeaking in surprise and turning on his heel to face her, sleek black tail going ramrod straight. Immediately, his neck colored red at the compliment, his eyes dropping to her bare legs, exposed by her short robe. 

“T-thanks,” Seokjin managed, embarrassed. He promptly turned his music off, Y/N smirking wryly, approaching the breakfast nook where he set up their dinner for two. “Um, everything’s ready. Are you hungry? How was your bath?”

“I’m starving! It was amazing, too. I needed some relaxation,” Y/N admitted, sliding into the booth, admiring the candle he lit, the perfectly set table, and the way he laid a napkin across her lap. “Look at this! Did you follow a recipe?”

Seokjin shook his head, rolling up the sleeves of his loose button down and sitting across from her, still looking bashful. 

“No, pretty girl, I just tried to recreate the one you always order. I kept tasting the sauce until it was right,” Seokjin smiled at her, Y/N unable to believe how romantic Seokjin truly was– it grew by the day. “I hope you like it.”

Instead of responding, Y/N picked up her chopsticks and dove in, not caring that Seokjin was studying her reaction carefully as she brought the noodles to her lips. Y/N was shocked– not only had Seokjin completely nailed the sauce on the noodles, but something about it tasted even better than her tried and true order from her favorite restaurant in the center of town. 

“How is it?” Seokjin asked eagerly, picking up his own chopsticks and nervously prodding at a sprig of cilantro. 

“Um, perfect. Better than the takeout I get,” Y/N could hardly answer him, stuffing more food into her mouth, so beyond caring whether or not she looked like a goober with noodles packed in her cheeks. “Seriously, it’s delicious! Try it!”

Seokjin brightened significantly, digging into his own plate, immensely pleased by Y/N’s approval. The jaguar hybrid was the type to fully focus on the meal when he ate, so there was comfortable silence for a bit, Y/N trying her hardest not to moan and groan while tasting the delicious dish Seokjin cooked specifically for her. She felt spoiled beyond repair. 

“So, I take it you’re not interested in a part-time job?” Y/N broke the silence midway through the meal, taking a break from inhaling her food by taking a sip of chilled white wine Seokjin poured for her. 

“Not particularly,” Seokjin answered after setting his own wine glass down, pursing his voluminous lips. “I like being here most of the time. The book club every week is enough for me… maybe if there’s some sort of volunteer work this summer, I’ll look into that.”

Y/N was thrilled by that answer. Seokjin had made great progress with being more sure of himself, making his own decisions without Y/N’s prompting.

“There’s a farmer’s market that happens every weekend during the summer in the town square. They’re always looking for extra hands, maybe that would interest you?”

“Would you do it with me?” 

“Absolutely. I usually volunteer anyways, but it’ll be even better if I can do it with you.”

Seokjin nodded happily, returning to his dinner, Y/N more than okay with lapsing back into silence so he could focus on eating. Y/N finished her meal sooner than she thought, wanting to lick the plate, truthfully. When Seokjin was done, she whisked away the dirty plates, feeling Seokjin close behind her as she loaded up the dishwasher. 

“Here you go,” the sound of a bottle cap being twisted off filled her ears, Y/N’s empty wine glass appearing before her and Seokjin filling it, standing directly behind her. Humming, she wondered if Seokjin could feel the charged energy of the room, how enamored she was with him. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a swig of her wine, Seokjin suddenly digging through the freezer for a tupperware she had never seen before. Fiddling with the sash of her robe, she took the opportunity to check him out; the billowy white button-down he was wearing hid his figure but still made him look like an off-duty model, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Swallowing thickly, she composed herself when he turned again, presenting the tupperware proudly. 

“What’s that, honey?” Y/N cocked her head, Seokjin prying the lid open and fumbling for the utensil drawer to pull out a couple of spoons. 

“Remember that ice cream maker we found in the back of the pantry? I got it to work! I made some coconut ice cream this morning.”

Y/N stared, dumbfounded, at the ice cream. The buttery, rich scent of coconut and vanilla coming from the soft serve and making her mouth water, even if she did just gorge herself on a mountain of Pad Thai. She was gawking at the tupperware stupidly when Seokjin tapped her cheek with two fingers, Y/N finding his vibrant orange eyes focusing on her mouth. 

“Open up,” Seokjin’s tone turned playful, a spoonful of ice cream poised before her lips, Y/N automatically heeding his request. Mood shifting, the jaguar hybrid fed her the ice cream, the treat melting over her taste buds and cooling her rising temperature. Of course, it was luscious. “Good? I added some lime zest, and–”

Seokjin promptly shut up when Y/N was hoisting herself up onto the island, now eye-level with him, tongue passing over her lips. Gently, she took the spoon from Seokjin, scooping up some more ice cream and popping it into her mouth. Seokjin simply watched, overwhelmed; not able to decide where to look. The spoon in her mouth and the mischief in her eyes, the robe that was slipping over her shoulder, or her bare parted legs. 

“Wanna try some, Jin?” Her voice was soft, lilting, and Seokjin was melting like the ice cream. All he could do was nod. 

Y/N took matters into her own hands, reaching out and grasping the loose collar of his shirt, yanking him forward and in between her legs. Startled, Seokjin’s pupils dilated, his hands finding purchase on the granite on either side of her thighs. Nonchalantly, Y/N scooped up another spoonful of ice cream, using her free hand to poise under Seokjin’s chin, mirroring his movements just moments ago. 

“Open up,” she repeated, quietly, Seokjin’s eyes flashing. Despite the strike of dominance that rocked through him, wanting to refuse to give into her demand, Seokjin found his lips parting, Y/N cooing and placing the spoon in his mouth. 

There was a moment, brief, electric, and heavy, where all they did was stare at each other. The spell was broken when Y/N teasingly tugged at his shirt collar again, Seokjin tearing the spoon from his mouth and carelessly tossing it into the sink. 

The jaguar hybrid crushed his lips to Y/N’s, one hand gripping her jaw and the other resting heavily on the top of her thigh, a feral growl coming from his throat when he tasted sweet coconut on her tongue. Y/N reacted instantly, wrapping both her arms and legs around Seokjin, pulling him in close and pressing her body to his. Completely lax both from her hot bath and the delicious meal she was fed, Y/N could think of no better way to end her night– tangled up with Seokjin. 

Seokjin was an amazing kisser. He tilted his head, allowing his lips to slot expertly against hers with just the right amount of pressure. Y/N released a guttural groan when his tongue was rolling into her mouth, exploring eagerly, the hand on her thigh squeezing. She tried to keep up, one hand clutching the back of his head, the other tangled in his shirt collar, wanting to close every single centimeter between the two of them. 

Much to her displeasure, though, Seokjin released her lips with a pop, danger in his eyes. Transfixed, she observed him swipe an index finger through the container of ice cream, and holding onto her jaw again, he painted the melting dessert over her lower lip, pulling down on the flesh so he could slide the digit into the cavern of her mouth. 

Dazzled and trapped beneath his turbulent gaze, Y/N tasted the ice cream clinging to his finger, using the tip of her tongue to clean it, a muscle in Seokjin’s jaw ticking when she hollowed out her cheeks, really laying it on thick. Some of the ice cream slipped down his wrist, Y/N whimpering when the cold droplets landed on her clavicle, a devilish grin appearing on his face when he pulled his finger from her mouth. 

“Aw, but you just got out of the bath,” Seokjin tutted, pushing the material of her robe off of her shoulders so it gathered around her biceps, assessing the mess. 

“Jin–”

The words were stolen from her when Seokjin ducked his head, tongue hot and heavy on her collarbone, collecting the cream that he spilled. Not expecting such a lewd, forward action, Y/N’s head dropped back, a breathy whine leaving her throat, Seokjin’s hold on her waist tight. Squirming on the granite countertop, her eyes rolled back when Seokjin sucked a bruise into her skin, pressing harsh kisses to her throat while she let him have his way with her. 

“Seokjin, oh,” Y/N clasped her ankles around his lower back, trying to press her hips into his. “That feels so good…”

Seokjin preened at the praise, rewarding her with a nip to her earlobe, trailing his kisses along the length of her delicate jaw and back to her swollen lips. This time, she urgently met him halfway, flicking her tongue over his teeth and wanting to eat him alive. Lust was coursing through her veins with a vengeance, and she didn’t care if he took her right there on the counter, at that point. 

“You’re too sweet,” Seokjin mumbled into her mouth, his voice strained, hands trailing to her lower back, making her spine arch into him. “I can’t help myself.”

Shivering in his arms, Y/N thought she whimpered out a ‘please’, but she yelped when she felt his large hands gather her ass in his palms, hauling her weight onto his chest and effectively picking her up. 

“But S-seokjin, the ice cream!” Y/N cried when he started carrying her out of the kitchen, heat pooling in her core with the strength he demonstrated. 

“Fuck the ice cream,” Seokjin simply grunted, Y/N chuckling despite the heated mood. Busying herself while he transported her elsewhere, she pulled a few of Seokjin’s buttons loose to expose more of his chest. 

Taking it upon herself to give Seokjin a few bites of her own, she hardly noticed him kicking her bedroom door shut and sitting on the bed with her straddling his lap. Fisting the material of his button down in her hands, she found a spot tucked beneath the curve of Seokjin’s jaw that had him tensing beneath her, Y/N grinning to herself and sucking the skin into her mouth harshly enough to bruise. Seokjin made a dark noise of pleasure, palms still resting on her ass, letting her mark him up as much as she pleased. 

Y/N cried out when Seokjin forcibly pulled her hips down, her core meeting the hardness under his jeans. Purring, he tugged at the loose knot of her robe, which was hardly covering her up anymore, pulling the material off of her body and tossing it aside. Y/N wondered if Seokjin had some kind of thing for her being nearly naked while he was still fully clothed, but she could not deny that something about that was driving her crazy. Rocking her hips against him, Seokjin moaned, fingernails digging into the meat of her ass. 

“What do you want?” Seokjin ground out, Y/N dragging her tongue underneath his jaw. Instead of answering, Y/N straightened up, biting his lower lip, relishing in the feral hiss he offered in response. “Pretty girl.”

“Mmm… what do I want?” Y/N feigned indecisiveness, trying not to tremble when Seokjin’s hands began to roam all over her exposed skin, fiddling with the straps of her bra. Staring at her gorgeous jaguar hybrid, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen, his obvious hardness pressing against her sodden underwear, she knew. “I really wanna suck you off.”

Seokjin paused, astounded by the forward response she offered, his cock throbbing beneath the rough material of his jeans. Smirking, Y/N yanked a few more buttons free on Seokjin’s shirt while he processed that, before his large hands grasped her wrists harshly. 

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm. Please? Can I?” Y/N nearly clawed his button down off of his broad shoulders, crumpling it into a ball and sending it sailing across the room. Lazily, she dragged her palms down the ripped expanse of his chest, the muscles tensing under her touch. 

“You can have anything you want, kitten,” Seokjin’s chest was heaving, unbearably turned on, hooking his hands under Y/N’s arms so he could pull her backwards, the two of them now laying flat on her bed, Y/N on top of him. “Go ahead, take what you want.”

Nearly vibrating, Y/N leaned down for one last kiss, distractedly fumbling for the clasp of her bra. Once the pesky scrap of material was divested from her, she focused on trailing her lips down Seokjin’s body. She paid particular attention to the odd faint scar that was littered across his body, her kisses extra tender and sweet, Seokjin sighing gently and petting the top of her head. 

“I love you,” Y/N murmured, lips skimming over the light trail of hair on his navel that led to the waistband of his jeans. Seokjin’s ears fluttered shyly, especially when she began to rid him of the denim pants, Y/N never breaking eye-contact. 

Positioning herself between his legs, Y/N’s gaze dropped to the intimidating bulge beneath his briefs. Surprisingly, there was a small wet patch darkening the gray fabric, something that went straight to her ego. Seokjin was patient with her, waiting for her to make the first move, no matter how badly he needed to be in her mouth. Tentatively, she cupped what she could over the fabric of his underwear, Seokjin unable to prevent his hips from jerking up to the touch with a sharp hiss. 

“Shit.”

“Feels good?” Y/N cocked her head, running her fingers over the length of him teasingly. 

“Don’t tease me,” Seokjin warned, lower lip caught between his teeth. Heeding his warning, Y/N lowered her head, mouthing over him indulgently. “F-fuck–”

There were two reasons Y/N didn’t wait any longer; she was too eager, and Seokjin was pretty much bucking his hips into her face with a hard look in his eyes. Carelessly, she pulled his briefs off of his body, transfixed by the sight before her. Seokjin was achingly hard after just a bit of kissing and teasing, Y/N nearly going cross-eyed at the sheer size of him– not that she had forgotten how blessed he was in that area. 

“Come on, baby,” Seokjin urged her, diving his fingertips into her tresses, one hand gripping the base of his cock. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Whimpering at the tone of dominance he was taking on, Y/N let him tap the tip of his cock against her lips, her tongue flicking out to taste the skin, making Seokjin shudder underneath her. With the size of him, her jaw would definitely be aching, but she didn’t care– only opening her mouth slowly, using a free hand to wrap around his girth, Seokjin’s touch returning to her hair. 

Seokjin groaned when her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Y/N’s mouth already feeling stuffed full, hollowing out her cheeks experimentally and watching Seokjin’s abs clench. So far gone, wanting to reduce him to a mess, Y/N let herself drool over him for more moisture, taking him deeper into her mouth and tracing a prominent vein with her tongue. 

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around me,” Seokjin commented offhand, a handful of her hair in his fist. “Oh–”

Y/N was only egged on by his praise, twisting her wrist and jerking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, Seokjin beginning to whimper under her ministrations, his hips occasionally bucking up to meet her movements. 

“F-fuck, kitten, you’re doing so well,” he gasped, Y/N taking a moment to come up for air, still steadily stroking him and kissing along his hip bones. 

Once her lungs were filled with enough oxygen, she licked a stripe along the underside of his cock, fitting him back inside her mouth, ignoring the ache in her jaw. Whining at the taste of him, the sight of him, sweaty and flushed, eyes glassy, Y/N felt her panties sticking to her soaked folds and was itching to sneak a hand between her legs. Relaxing her throat, wanting Seokjin in her guts but wanting to pleasure him even more, Seokjin swore when she swallowed around him, yanking her hair and moaning brokenly. 

“O-oh, just like that,” Seokjin encouraged, shallowly bucking his hips up into her, lodging his cock further down her throat and making her gag, the wet sound having his cock twitching. The scent of her arousal was thick in the room, heightening the speed at which he was hurtling towards his release, the tears streaming down her face as she stared up at him glittering in the low lamplight. “Filthy little mouth… fuck, I’m gonna cum, kitten–”

Those words only determined Y/N further, momentarily pulling him from her mouth to speak, her throat raw and scraped up. 

“Cum, wanna taste you,” was all she said, and when she resumed her actions with renewed vigor, a free hand coming up to tweak one of her nipples, Seokjin was hurtling off the edge unexpectedly. 

Y/N whimpered at his taste, Seokjin making similar noises as he came down her throat. Y/N tried her best not to choke at the volume of his release filling her mouth, slowing her movements when his hips began to jerk. Releasing him when he whined with oversensitivity, she licked her lips, satisfied she had effectively reduced him into a boneless puddle, kissing below his navel tenderly. 

Before she could get her bearings, or perhaps massage her sore jaw, the world was turned upside-down, and suddenly her head was resting on her soft pillows and she was flat on her back, Seokjin above her. His lips were on her straight away, tongue in her mouth like he was trying to taste himself, Y/N’s drenched panties dampening even further at that thought. His hands were all over her, heated, Y/N surprised that he was still so turned on after his release, arching into his touch with a whine.

“You’re such a good girl,” Seokjin murmured into her ear, scraping his teeth over the bite he left on her collarbone before. “Love you…”

Y/N was writhing under him, crying out when he littered kisses across her chest, his kiss-bitten lips closing around one of her erect nipples. Grappling for a hold on his biceps as he stroked patterns all over her body, Y/N pushed her chest into his face, Seokjin breathily chuckling through his nose as he laved his tongue over her sensitive nipple. 

Wanting to worship her, but scenting her desperation for his touch and attention, Seokjin shushed her when she whined pathetically, rubbing her thighs together. Sponging kisses all over her torso, paying attention to every freckle, mole, and scar, Seokjin hooked a finger into the waistband of her panties, lovingly removing them from her body and kissing either of her hipbones.

“Seokjin… please, do something,” Y/N was melting into her mattress, between his hands roaming all over her skin and the hungry look in his eyes.

“So polite,” Seokjin remarked, parting her thighs, lowly growling at the wetness that was clinging to the inside of them. “This wet, just from sucking me off?”

“Hnngh,” Y/N covered her face, embarrassed, Seokjin tapping on her thigh until she looked at him again. When she did, he was settled between her legs, Y/N reaching for one of his hands, interlocking their fingers desperately. “Please!”

This time, Seokjin would let her order him around. Stamping a kiss over her pubic bone, he got comfortable, gliding his tongue through her slick folds and relishing in the strained moan she offered in return. Seokjin wasted no time, mouth watering at the taste of her pussy, collecting her essence on his tongue and holding her down by her hips when his lips brushed over her clit. 

“O-oh my god,” Y/N could hardly bear it, Seokjin just as good at eating pussy as he was kissing, tears running down her face again when he used the flat of his tongue to level a harsh stripe against her clit. “Jin–”

Humming, bringing a thumb to rub figure-eights on her sweet spot, his tongue dipped down to the fluttering entrance of her cunt, and when he plunged the appendage inside of her, it had her wailing, destroyed. Continuing to work her over, her juices steadily spilling into his mouth, Seokjin peered up at his lover, and surprisingly, he felt himself grow hard again at what he saw. 

Y/N, her hair plastered over the pillows, was canting her hips into his face, and with the hand that wasn’t captured by Seokjin, she was cradling one of her breasts, pulling on her sensitive bud, lips parted in bliss. 

She felt herself humiliatingly close already, though it was hard not to be with the way Seokjin was fucking her with his tongue, relentlessly rubbing circles over her clit, and staring up at her with predatory eyes. Releasing her chest, she buried her hand in Seokjin’s hair, digging her fingertips into the base of one of his silky black ears, Seokjin groaning and grinding his hips against her mattress for friction. It was filthy, hedonistic, what they were caught in the middle of– neither of them could get enough. 

“I-I’m, ah! Gonna–” spine contorting off of the mattress when Seokjin moaned against her cunt, she came with a wail, her legs shaking violently as stars formed in her eyes, heat reaching a boiling point in her lower abdomen. 

Y/N’s release didn’t stop Seokjin, even when she was whining thinly from overstimulation. Instead, he switched things up, sliding two deft fingers into her spasming cunt, curling the digits up expertly and staring directly into Y/N’s misty eyes. 

“Come on, pretty girl, again. Cum again,” Seokjin cooed, Y/N shaking her head back and forth, saying something like she couldn’t– but Seokjin knew she could. “One more for me, alright, kitten?”

Dipping his head back down, Seokjin wrapped his lips around her overstimulated clit, and with a sharp suck and a well-timed curl of his fingers pistoning inside of her drenched pussy, Y/N was coming again– this time with a silent scream. Seokjin swore, rising to his knees, gripping his cock in his fist as he continued to finger fuck Y/N through her high. Y/N’s watery eyes went wide at the sight of him pleasuring himself, even as she continued to ride her high, gushing all over his fingers, and with a deep, feral groan, Seokjin came, hot ropes of his cum painting her lower stomach. 

Y/N was out of body. She had never experienced something so goddamn sexy in all of her life, Seokjin’s chest heaving as he came down from his orgasm, Y/N gasping when he pulled his fingers from her cunt, spreading his cum over her skin with deep, predatory purrs. Twitching, overstimulated and reduced to a complete pile of mush, all she could do was attempt to catch her breath, Seokjin still admiring the mess he made on her stomach. 

“Pretty girl, fuck, you’re so sexy like this,” Seokjin heaved, sweat dripping down his temples, utterly spent. It was all he could do, reluctantly, to reach for a tissue on her nightstand, mopping up his cum on her abdomen. “So perfect. I love you.”

Y/N hardly had the words to express what she was thinking. All she could do was limply lift her arms, inviting him into her embrace, Seokjin taking her up on that offer by landing heavily beside her, taking the quilt from the foot of her bed with him. She bonelessly let him manipulate her into his arms and tuck the quilt over her naked body, peppering kisses all over her sweaty, tear-stained face. 

“You’re gonna need another bath,” Seokjin commented, tracing her ribcage beneath the blanket, Y/N tucked under his chin. 

“That’s a tomorrow problem,” Y/N mumbled, knowing she wouldn’t be able to move for at least a couple of hours. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Neither can I,” Seokjin snorted, shivering at the feeling of Y/N’s eyelashes brushing against his sensitive, marked-up neck. 

“Another perfect date,” Y/N sighed happily, palm resting over Seokjin’s heart. “Hot bath, a delicious dinner cooked by my perfect boyfriend, and two orgasms. What more can a girl ask for?”

Seokjin paused the tender tracing of her waist, registering that statement, before his chest had delirious laughter bubbling in it, shaking his head and nuzzling his nose into her hair. 

“I think I’ve developed a thing for spoiling you,” Seokjin admitted, squeezing her waist. 

“Don’t stop anytime soon. I’ve grown accustomed to it,” Y/N shot back playfully, her words slightly warbled as she yawned. “I love you, Seokjinnie.”

Seokjin returned the sentiment quietly, seriously, pulling her even closer into his embrace if that was even possible, his tail winding around her thigh. 

“Tired? Let’s get some rest,” Seokjin’s siren-like voice always lulled her to sleep, so she was nodding sleepily against his chest like a three week old kitten. 

“You’re gonna take that bath with me in the morning,” Y/N slurred, Seokjin humming contentedly in response. 

“Anything you want.”

Sunday had Y/N loading half of her witchy tools into Namjoon’s van, making trips back and forth with baskets of various herbs, incense, crystals, and whatnot. Namjoon and Jeongguk had already packed up all of the tapes and photographs the three of them collected during their two investigations, so they let Y/N select her own materials she’d need to close the portal in the Sanders’ home. It was a sunny day, finally a bit warmer than it had been, spring definitely on the way. Songbirds began to make nests in the eaves of the roof of the house, and Yoongi had dragged the basketball hoop back outside for the nicer weather. 

Singing a tune, Y/N organized the last bin of spell candles within Namjoon’s van, and when she was satisfied with how everything looked– she had brought in a few more pillows and blankets for their comfort– Y/N hopped out of the vehicle and locked it up. Thinking of checking on Jimin in the stable, she was rounding the van in the driveway when she heard gravel crunching, the sound of a car pulling in. Turning, she saw her Land Cruiser being parked in its usual spot, Y/N unable to see who had taken it out that afternoon. Deciding to wait and greet whoever it was, she leaned against the dusty side of the van, tapping her foot. 

The first thing she saw was a curly head of black hair as the driver’s door opened, Y/N smiling as she recognized the blue plaid flannel the hybrid was wearing. Taehyung must have gone out for more film or to shoot pictures in the park, Y/N watching as he slid his phone into his back pocket, still turned away from him. 

“Hey Tae! You’re home!” Y/N called, the Kodiak hybrid flinching an inch into the air, her voice surprising him. He spun around, looking alarmed and like he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be. 

Y/N waved him over, only able to see his head over the SUV, and Taehyung pushed a hand through his hair, squaring his shoulders. Lifting an eyebrow, about to ask what was wrong, she felt she was plunged into an icy lake when he stepped towards her. 

Taehyung, his camera bag in his hand and eyes laser-sharp, had his clothes in disarray, and purple, splotchy love bites all over his neck. 

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @breadcheeksseokjin @nikkiordonez12

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[kithtaehyung]

mami (m) | myg/knj

title: mami (m) pairing: myg x reader(f) , knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au summary: you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date. note: heavy 00s vibes, this is just the beginning of a collection of parts instead of just a oneshot let’s fucking goooo🦋 note 2: this is pretty unedited lolll if there are mistakes i'm so so sorry! warnings for this part: language, choking, joon in sweats, bathroom s*x, b*ckshots, friendly sp*nks from your roomie🤪, it uhhh starts right out the gate lmfao, hobi in silk and a robe, yoongi is a warning in his own right, light sl*pping, you get called mamiii😗 so if that’s not ur thing i’d skip this series !!, joon is too smooth, a secret fourth guy lmfaoooo, battle rap scenarios! drop date: september 26th, 2023, 10:07pm est word count: 3.7k  mood: here 

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“You like that, huh?” 

Breath short, you can only gasp as the hands you’ve been eyeing all night clutch your throat, a fiendish hum the first response to your satisfied grin.

“Knew you would.” As your delicious captor speaks, you just know he’s fixated on your makeup—at least, the way it’s smearing onto a bathroom mirror that has seen better days. “You all do.” 

Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Fucking hell, he always knows.

Your lust condenses and slides down the glass in rivers, and with each experienced thrust inside your folds, it’s getting harder, and harder, and harder to see the man wrecking your shit. 

But it’s coming. The end. The coil inside you is screaming and tightening and you know he can feel every potent pulse as you slap the tiny counter with a palm. “Yoongi—”

“You gonna come, mami?” 

Yes yes yes you really fucking are. It’s so truthful that you can’t even voice your agreement in words, your moans higher and higher in pitch the only tell you can possibly give. 

“Then fucking do it.” 

Light bounces from your eyes and rebounds off the mirror the same time your whine does, every limb locking while bare shoulders bang against your reflection. 

“Fuck.” 

You spring right into the ground floor above, eyes rolling so far back you could probably see the way Yoongi’s smirking at your ass if your dumbfounded mush of a brain wasn’t in the way. 

Again, and again, you milk his cock for all it’s worth, spurning him into gripping your bouncing hips with rough hands and faster strokes. Laughs and conversations seep through the door at your side, but you can’t make out a thing as you garble, 

“Yoongi, please—”

“One more.” 

“I can’t—”

“Don’t play dumb,” he tuts. “You won’t hustle me a second time.” 

Busted. 

Your pout quickly stretches into a devilish curve instead, and you hear his sound of approval before you brag, 

“I spent all that already, by the way.” 

Air whizzes past your ears as you’re hoisted upwards, and your mirth reverberates as you’re spun and shoved into the sink, cheap laminate bruising your back. 

Yoongi must also be remembering the time your pussy sucked the soul out of him. After you both made a bet that you couldn’t beat someone’s record time making him come. 

You won half of his prize money that night. 

And that was the night he won the entire thing. 

“You’re lucky I respect it,” he snarls, sweaty fingers gripping your chin as he slings a leg over his pelvis. When he grins, you wanna lick the white off his teeth. “And you’re lucky I made it back the next night.” 

Oh, shit. Did he really? 

Battle rap events usually stack so that everyone gets a chance. How did he get invited back the same weekend? 

Well, other than being a monster on the mic. There’s a reason you can’t stay away from him, and you may or may not admit you get turned on by how effortlessly ruthless he is. 

Lips smushed, you ask with genuine curiosity, “You won again?” 

Yoongi lightly smacks your cheek, chuckling when you grit out a moan. “Nah. The sponsors loved me,” he claims, finally bringing a hand down to guide himself back inside. “So they paid me to come back.” 

“Sick,” you praise through a grunt, fully catching his eyes for the first time tonight. Pushing past the way he fills you so fantastically, you huff out, “That doesn’t happen on south side.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Yeah, apparently west and east side do it a lot. Especially with that guy Randa—”

“Fuck Randa.”

Ah, so Yoongi knows him? You haven’t ventured into the west scene yet, but the one thing you know about it is that dude’s name.

So he must be a beast.

Especially if Gloss himself had some choice words.

At this little slip of emotion, you don’t hide your smirk at all. “Oh? Maybe I will if that’s how you feel.”

The sudden possessive shove of his cock into your folds is delightful, your high giggle pinging off the bathroom walls.

“Fuck whoever you want, princess,” he chides right against your lips. “You’ll always come back to me.” 

“Duh.” You flick your tongue over his plush. “You wouldn’t last a week without me anyway.”

Yoongi pushes into you again, stare heavy and coaxing butterflies from your belly. “I’d manage.”

“As if.”

But even through the pleasure, you still wonder. How are you both having a regular conversation right now? This never happens with him. You’ve wanted it to, but there simply hasn’t been any talk when he’s involved. 

The high from your orgasm compounds with this strange feeling that you turn a little playful.

“What I meant was…” Fingernail poking his tank, you joke with a sly curve, “Guess you must be like, good or whatever.” 

When he looks down, you childishly swoop your finger up to bump his nose. “Ha. Loser.” 

Predictably, Yoongi pauses before only his eyes raise, suppressed emotions hiding behind long dark strands. “Really.” 

And even though you felt him twitch in your core, you’ll spare him. “I don’t make the rules.” 

You think this is when he’ll start ramming into you again, because none of the times you’ve hooked up ever lasted this long. It’s always been quick with him, and never in any other place other than bathrooms or broom closets. 

Which isn’t bad. Just a pattern you’ve noticed. 

But Yoongi huffs in amusement before shaking his head. “Since when were you this weird?” 

“Wow, rude?” Your scoff is full of mock annoyance. “I’ve always been this way.” 

It’s just that no one’s taken the time to get to know you.

“But you’re so…” 

All they care about is one thing. 

Which, granted, is the same in your case. 

It just gets a bit lonely sometimes. 

Offering to finish for him to stiff arm any more incoming awkwardness, you blurt, “Hot? Slutty?” 

“Fast.” 

Oh. 

Did you both just assume the other person wanted it over and done with?

That’s entirely possible considering the first time it happened lasted a grand total of three minutes. Max.

“I mean…” You lean back on your palms, not caring to adjust your very mussed top because your chest finally snags all of Yoongi’s attention. How he’s still hard inside of you is a complete mystery. “I don’t just fuck, you know.” 

“And here I thought we were similar,” he teases, groaning through his teeth when you roll on his dick. Again. 

And again. 

Of course you’re both similar. The only difference is that people dub this guy a sex god and you’re an easy lay. 

But you won’t get into that with him. Not now and probably not ever since you don’t dare even label Yoongi a friend.

Panting, you observe him watching your movements as you switch the subject, “You fucked that one sponsor chick for the invite, huh.” 

And he takes the out hilariously quick,

“Both of them.” 

Of course. Your head kicks back in laughter, remembering that there were two people running the event instead of one. 

Truthfully, you would’ve paid to see that. 

“Can’t stand you,” you lie, the way you chuckle as he slaps one of your tits saying otherwise. 

“Good.” 

As he rubs a rough thumb over a nipple, an announcement blares over deejay scratches and cheers, tugging both of your eyes to the door.

Before things quickly devolve into how they always go.

When you arch forward, his lips devour your breast; when you rock your hips into his, the groans against your chest make you feel alive. 

Your nails claw through his hair before you can’t decide if you wanna rake them through his shoulders or his neck. Here, there, everywhere you can grab, you take hold. 

Suddenly, Yoongi clutches the top of your skirt before thrusting in hard, and his laugh when you whine out a curse strikes your soul. “It’s better that way.” 

It’s always better that way. 

“Agreed,” you murmur, eyes flickering to the janky ceiling before sighing out, “I think they just said your name.” 

“Mm.” 

He plunges into you so hard you see his impish curve imprinted among the stars. 

“Then hurry up, mami. Gimme one more for luck.” 

MAMI 

“Who’s on the menu tonight?”

You hum while peering into your mirror—a much cleaner, brighter mirror than the one you were pressed against a couple weeks ago. “That nice guy I’ve been seeing at the gym.” 

“Wait, what? Are you going on a date date?” 

“Hobi,” you giggle, loving your roommate very much despite the way he just forgets sometimes. “We went through this already.” 

“So… Is that a yes, or.” His laugh blurts out when you throw a middle finger next to your head. “Okay, okay! You can just say it, you know.” 

“I just”—you spot check your makeup before vacating your vanity stool—“You know me. I never do dates.” 

As Hobi leans back on your bed, the way his hot pink robe matches your comforter makes you highly amused. Almost amused enough that you don’t react to his nosy question, 

“Nervous?”

Extremely. 

“Uhm,” you start, all pretenses dropping at the sight of his cocked brow. “A bit.” 

Springing up, your roommate pads over and rests thin palms over even thinner straps of your sundress. 

“What’s got you nervous, love?” 

Pouting, you look out your window before your chin is gently swiveled back forward. Thankful for his insistence, you confess to the only guy that you feel like you can trust, 

“What if I like him?” 

The laugh you get is full of disbelief and pity. “That’s what you’re worried about? Really?” 

When you nod, he chuckles again, but it’s smaller. And more understanding than the first. 

“Pathetic, right.” 

“No, no no,” Hobi starts, sliding his hands down to warm your biceps before squeezing. When he pauses, his expression gives his thoughts away before he can utter them. “Well, a little.” 

“Hoseok.” 

“But! Only because you’re making it seem that way.” He squeezes again before sitting back down on your bed. “If you just let things happen without thinking, isn’t that better?”

Does he really have to flop down to rest his head on his palms? Now? 

Talk about not thinking. 

Whatever. You didn’t expect Hoseok to do that, but he looks hot, so you’ll let it slide. 

And you don’t shy away from his silk-covered package before retorting, “Says you.” 

“Me? I overthink. That’s different.” 

“How!” 

“Don’t think about it.” 

When he winks, you both laugh, and his grin slowly devolves into a smirk before he motions you over with a mere head cock.

And you gladly oblige. 

Because your dynamic with Hobi still hasn’t changed. 

Slowly, you arrive at his knees before mounting the bed at his hips, being steadied over his pelvis as he keeps his prone position. 

“You look hot as fuck, you know.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“He’s gonna like you for sure.” 

“Naturally.” 

“So what if you end up liking him, too?” 

As he smoothes a hand over the side of your ass, you purse your lips in thought. “Uhh… Feelings? I guess?”

“You can have those, babe.” 

“Not mine,” you correct, knowing yours are too fucked up to share with anyone. Which is exactly why you’re all for the so-called fast title that Yoongi clipped onto your persona. “His.” 

Does the lifestyle you chose come with regrets? Yeah. Complications? Also yes. But at least those hurt less than the regrets and complications actual relationships come with. 

You’re just fine with how things are. 

Which is why you’re scared about seeing Namjoon, because he seems like the type that wants something steady. If you end up liking him, you’re gonna have to choose between options that are vastly different in color. 

Despite all that, you still said yes when he asked you out at the gym last week—while you were drenched, bare-faced, and wincing from the last set you completed to failure. 

Why did you say yes anyway? What drew you in to this guy? 

“If you’re scared of hurting his feelings, then just tell him straight-up,” Hobi advises, pulling you back to the present. “Guys won’t know shit unless you spell it out.” 

Looking down at his perfect features, you fake disbelief, asking the most rhetorical question in existence, “You mean you can’t just read our minds?”

“Baby, we can’t even figure out our own, let alone yours.” 

“You said it.” Fully reassured, you rest on Hoseok’s chest, careful to not smudge your face on his clothes. “…Pity fuck if the date goes wrong?”

“Of course.” 

Your chuckle is soft. “Thank you.” 

“Now get up,” he orders, smacking your ass so perfectly that it offends you. “Before I give you another necklace.” 

“Hoseok!” When his cackles follow you up as you stand, your jaw cannot hinge back in. “Goddamn, you’re bad.” 

“Not as bad as you,” he says, following you out of your room. “Mami.” 

That goddamn nickname. 

Hobi knows it’s a common term. And he knows it’s one you hear from multiple people, especially on south side. Literally nothing new or groundbreaking.

But he also knows it makes you unwell because of one specific person. Because you confessed that you didn’t expect it from them during a fuck and it made you weak in the knees. 

Which caused the same motherfucker to say it over, and over, and over again.

Fucking Yoongi. 

Why the hell is it only potent when he says it?

The psychology of that needs to be studied yet you will completely refuse to be a subject. 

After checking to make sure you have everything, you fish out your phone to double-check the address before calling a ride. 

“Where is it at?”

“Some restaurant on west side.”

“Damn, all the way over there?”

“I’m okay with it,” you assure him, inwardly wincing at the cost on your screen. 

Virtually anything on west side is far from your condo, but that’s partly why you’re alright with going. As much as you get around, you don’t prefer taking people back to your place. 

Besides. No one needs to know where you live unless you really fuck with them.

And it’s only happened twice.

Hoseok’s unconvinced reply cuts your thoughts in two,

“Alright… Well. Lemme know if you end up somewhere else tonight.” 

Smiling, you offer him a warm look, positive that his lean against the kitchen wall would put models to shame. “I always do.” 

“What did I say earlier?” 

“Spell it out for him.”

“Okay, good.” 

When you grin, he does, too. 

And you hope this Namjoon guy at least does well with words. 

Turns out, he does a fucking splendid job with them.

At least, the things this man is saying has you absolutely melting under dim lights, and you haven’t even gotten your drinks yet. 

“You look damn nice tonight, by the way,” he mentions with a dip of his head, fiddling with his napkin and giving you an upsettingly perfect view of his fingers. “I feel underdressed as hell.”

Underdressed? Looking around, you feel like you’re the one that dressed way too formal and you’re in a damn sundress.

You should’ve known, though. The restaurant that Namjoon chose occupies one of the few streets known for its laid-back, easy-going fare. Even you have heard of its unique charm and you reside quite a ways away. 

Before you respond, you remember how you arrived, checking around the small space before spotting him in a booth. And while you loved the lax way he dressed, you were even more charmed when he got out just to greet you with a cheek kiss. 

And the night has been so pleasant that you forget to be worried. 

“Why? I mean, thank you, but why?” 

Namjoon gives his sweatpants-covered thighs a glance. “I dunno. You just look bossed up and I’m like, your errand boy.” 

Your mirthy disbelief leaks out of your grin before he can finish. Watching a nearby table point at their menus to order, you go along with his compliments,

“I mean, I could use an assistant…”

He only smiles at his hands. “Order me around anytime.” 

Cute. 

Maybe that’s why you’re drawn to this guy. 

Even though he’s huge and can lift like a motherfucker, there’s a soft side that he’s got no shame showing. 

Also, as the night goes on, you quickly discover more traits you rarely come across. 

Curious, suave, humble—all of them surprise you in the best way. He’s already let you talk much more than he has, and the two of you have debated on not one, but three topics. Including one that you would have left his ass for if you both weren’t on the same page. 

“Okay, so we agree.”

“Yes,” he responds in relief. “Definitely would’ve rethought this whole thing if we didn’t.”

“Uhh, yeah, because I would’ve walked out and let you pay for everything.” 

“Damn!” Fuck, his grin is charming. “And I would’ve paid it, too.” 

Laughing—and realizing that you’re doing that a lot tonight—you rest a hand on his shoulder, “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Fuck, he’s solid.

“Wait, I’m getting us this time, though.”

“Yeah?”

Holding a round glass up to his lips, he coolly adds, 

“And next time, too.” 

Well. 

There’s no way you’re saying no to that.

“To next time,” you offer, clinking cups and taking a nice sip of your wine. 

Things end with both of you just having dinner—a concept so foreign that it makes you wonder if he wanted something more than a second date. 

But judging by the times he kept stealing glances and the way his curve stayed at a slant, it’s an open and shut case.

It’s always a bit crowded in the front few rows, so it doesn’t bother you to hang back for the first time in awhile. 

Besides, you’re a little late from your date anyway. 

Since nothing else happened with Namjoon—he had to leave pretty quick—you determined that you could make it to another Gloss smackdown. 

After you greet all the people and bodyguards hanging around the front doors, you arrive downstairs just in time to hear the deejay ushering everyone in. 

And based on what you hear, it seems like Yijeong’s got extra volume in his mic tonight. 

“Alright, alright, let’s give it up for our two up here, yeah?”

Everyone cheers as you clap to yourself, leaning against a chilly column and ignoring the stares your outfit gets.

The stage looks quite different from back here, with its huddled occupants talking amongst themselves. While you watch both crews laughing and standing around, you wonder what it would be like to support Yoongi from up there instead of on the ground. 

You really would if he wanted you to.

“I don’t have to introduce either one but I’m gonna do it anyway. Cus that’s the rules or whatever and they both deserve some love. Give it up for my man K Shine!”

You aren’t familiar with him but you support anyway. A tiny whoop leaves your mouth as a big portion of the room shouts, and you watch as the guy nods to the people that came to see him. 

“Oh, we’re showing out, okay. Alright, now let’s hear it for my guy Gloss!” 

In contrast, your energy evolves tenfold, and you gladly yell with the rest of the floor as Yoongi stays piercing the ground at his feet.

This guy. 

Still the same routine.

You always muse that he could look into the crowd once in awhile, especially since his audience is steadily growing. 

If they ever saw his smile, maybe more people would be drawn in wait is he looking up this time? 

Wait.

Despite there being rows and rows between you and the stage, you don’t miss the slight shift in his demeanor. It almost looks like he’s scanning the people in front. 

What’s he doing? Is he looking for something? Someone? 

…He’s not looking for you, is he? 

You’re there quite often and always in the same area, but you didn’t think Yoongi would really notice or be checking for you right now.

…But is he? 

Before you can think any further, the quick blares of an airhorn shove your thoughts away. 

“K Shine, you win the toss,” the middle man on stage announces. Fuck, you think you’d know his name by now, he’s been here a lot ever since the first guy disappeared. “What you got.” 

When the man answers, he stares right at Yoongi’s hooded head, fire flaring up the walls already,

“Mister Big House, Big Car, Big Rings can go first.” 

Oh.

He—

You really fucking regret not being in the front now.

Immediately, the whole room ooh’s, with the middle man pursing his lips and giving the two opponents space. 

Light illuminates the whole stage as both sides back up a bit, heavy cameras set to roll and some feedback ringing through the musty air. 

And you wait with bated breath as the crowd goes quiet. 

Heart stilling as Yoongi holds a mic right up to his lips.

—

—

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tbc :))) 

—

so.. what do we think lmaooo 🦋 | join the taglist :D

a/n: thank you all for reading! as i don't have too much time to spend on fics nowadays, i'll be heavily considering feedback and excitement around fics to determine what to work on. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: all the names i’m gonna include that aren’t the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! k-shine was one of the first ones i ever watched, and he has good aggressive delivery and performance but not too many heavy hitters. anybody i namedrop will have rap battles linked, so here is one of k-shine’s that i remember from back in the day. battle rap is an art form in itself, and i would like to showcase these talented individuals whenever i can.

++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist 

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

Jin slides a dish of vanilla ice cream to you. You smile when you see he remembers the extra sprinkles on top. Yoongi has taken a play out of your book and has been actively avoiding you since your conversation at his house two weeks ago. Every day, you watched out your window from your living room, hoping that he would come over when he returned home from work. He never did. Why was he so upset? Why was he so offended that you didn't want to sell the recipes to the farm? It's not like you were hurting the farm financially. They were doing perfectly well before you came along. They didn't need your bread or jam to be successful. It really shouldn't have mattered that you said no. You regret even agreeing to bake for them in the first place.

“Was I stupid for not selling the recipes?” You ask Jin, who is leaning on the counter in front of you with his own dish of ice cream.

“No, they mean something to you, and you shouldn't feel bad, ” he assures you. “Anyone of us could have talked to you about it. We are all at fault for this whole mess. I don't know why he is taking it so hard.”

“I feel like I've fucked everything up,” you say shoving the sweet cold ice cream in your mouth. As you chew on the colorful sprinkles the bell above the door jingles catching your attention. Hobi walks into the cafe and sits on the stool next to you as he steals a spoonful of your dessert. Your friendship with him went back to normal in a blink of an eye. It wasn't long after you both apologized that Jin and Namjoon sent you their own apologies. They didn't try to come up with excuses for Yoongi or try to make you feel bad. They were simple heartfelt apologies that you accepted right away. “Jimin and Tae even texted me asking why I was making a big deal out of it. They made a whole group chat with the three of us so they could gang up on me together.”

“Really?” Hobi asked, surprised, and you nodded.

“I'll have a talk with them later,” Jin comments, shaking his head.

“I…I just feel like I was back on track with my life, settling in nicely, and now everyone hates me,” you cry. Tears fall down your face that you quickly wipe away with your sleeve. “With the way everything has been going, I wouldn't be surprised if Kook doesn't evict me.”

“He would never do that to you. No one hates you,” Jin said, patting your head as if you're a child.

“It's all going to blow over,” Hobi said, hugging you.

“It's too late. Yoongi is clearly talking shit about me, and now everyone is going to choose sides. Jimin warned me not to let this get messy and look at us. I was so stupid to get involved with him,” you say, shaking your head disagreeing with them. “I've talked to my one and only friend from my old school district. They have a third grade teacher leaving next year. I think I'm going to take the position.”

“No, you're not,” Joon said, coming into the cafe with that damn bell jingling behind him. “We are not going to let you run away. I'll reject your resignation, and I won't give you any recommendations.”

“You would really do that to me?” You ask as he sits on your free side.

“Absolutely,” Namjoon said. “You belong here with us….you're family. Yoongi is stubborn, and so are you. Let things settle down, talk it out, and we will all move on.”

“What if we can't agree on things?” You ask, stirring the ice cream around in your bowl. “He doesn't seem to be in a rush to talk to me. He's had two weeks to talk to me. It's not like he doesn't know where I live. What if there is no fixing this?”

“What if?” Jin asks as he stares off into space as if he’s deep in thought. “What if…”

“What if what?” Hobi asks, smacking the counter, knocking Jin out of his daze.

“What if you sell the recipes to Tannie Farms, but make everything yourself?” Jin asks, looking at you curiously before breaking out in a wide smile.

“I'm not following,” you say, and your other two friends seem just as confused. The three of you in front of the counter look at each other as if Jin has gone insane. “His whole point was that I couldn't make everything myself. I can't supply you with the amount you would need.”

“I don't want to run the cafe anymore. I want to make the food I want to make,” he explains, turning serious. “Think about it, Y/N. A restaurant and bakery. Yours and mine….mine and yours. Ours. People from all over would flock to us.”

“That's….not a bad idea,” Joon said, looking at you with a surprised look on his face. Now, you are looking at him like he is the crazy one. “You would have multiple ovens big enough to make the quantities we need for deliveries, and the recipes would be safe with you. You wouldn't be selling them to strangers.”

“Okay, what about my job? Do I just give up on teaching and throw away my degree that I worked hard for? I am still paying off my student loan. I don't have the money to help you start a restaurant and bakery,” you tell them, pushing your dish of melting ice cream away. “I don't even know if I can make anything else. We can't run a bakery on one cake, bread, and a couple of jams.”

“Yoongi says he's willing to talk about it,” Hobi says, holding up his phone. You glare at him, that traitor. You knew he loved Yoongi more. “You wouldn't have to put up any money because Tannie Farms would own it. Financially, you wouldn't be on the hook for anything.”

“So, I would work for Yoongi,” you say, sounding very unamused as you take in their faces, looking excited at the possible new venture. Shaking your head, you wave your hands in front of you, showing that you were not interested. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“Please, please. Don't crush my dreams,” Jin begs, hands pressed together underneath his chin. “We could be successful. You would work for all of us, not just Yoongi. I don't want to work for my parents forever.”

“You'll have plenty of time to find more recipes and experiment,” Hobi assures you. “The whole process will take time. Months, if not years. You can do it.”

“You wouldn't even have to talk to Yoongi. Jin will handle everything, and all of us are available if you need anything. I think that you definitely can do it,” Joon says, agreeing with Hobi.

Can you? Can you do it? In theory, yes, you probably could. Your grandmother has so many different recipes that you haven't even explored yet. It's the whole working for your friends and Yoongi that is causing you to question this new business opportunity. Could you handle working for Yoongi after everything happened? You're not sure if you can or even want to. To actually work for them puts your entire livelihood at risk. If you get involved, fully involved, there is no way you could walk away at the drop of a hat if things get rough. It was a major commitment.

“Please?” Jin said, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, I'll love you forever. I wouldn't even dream of doing this with anyone else. We would work so well together.”

“Okay,” you give in and smack the counter with your hands, causing them to smile at you. “I guess I will be willing to listen to a full-on business plan when you have one. A complete business plan and not just an idea. However, that's all for right now ….I'll listen and consider.”

“Great! We are going to be great together,” Jin exclaims. “I need to get a menu around. Jolly Jin’s Cafe and Bakery. I can see the sign now.”

You sigh as you watch him run back into the kitchen. You think you're getting a headache.

Pulling back into your driveway, you notice Yoongi's house is dark like it has been recently. You barely even see the lights on for an extended period of time in his home at night anymore. You wonder if he kept the same routine he had when you would stay over. Dinner in the kitchen preceded by sitting in the living room curled up on the couch, reading a book. You would have been tucked into his side watching tv or scrolling through your phone as his eyes flew over the pages of his book. Sometimes, the nights would end with him pinning your against the couch cushions or scurrying upstairs quickly and into the bed. Now, those nights are over and gone with one stupid fight.

Sniffling, you blink away the unshed tears. It was then that you noticed the car parked along the side of your driveway. Looking over to your house, you stare at Changkyun from your driver's seat as you throw your car into park as he stands on your porch waiting for you. There was no reason for him to be here. He made it very loud and clear that the two of you were over. Getting out of your car, you stand rooted in your spot just looking at him. You are not willing to walk up to him. He seemed to take the hint and walked off your porch in your direction. Closing your door, you cross your arms and wait with baited breath as he nears.

“You look good,” he says, once reaching you.

He still looked good, too. Handsome as ever with that damn sharp jawline that you had fallen for in the beginning. It pissed you off. You want him to look guilty. You want him to look sad and tired. You want him to apologize for all the shit he put you through. For making you feel like you had to push your friends away. For making you feel like you were not good enough for him. However, he doesn't. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world.

“How did you find me?” You ask, taking a step back away from him. A part of you wonders if you can jump back in your car and drive away quickly.

“I went to your parents' house, and your mom told me where you were living. I really need to talk to you,” he says.

“I think you said plenty when you said, and I quote ‘I don't love you anymore’,” you tell him. “I don't think that there is anything left to say. You wasted your time coming here.”

You push past him, but he reaches out and grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving. You pull out of his grasp and glare at him. You don't want him to touch you. You don't even want to look at him. Crossing your arms, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’m really trying to be civil about this, Y/N,” he said. “I just want my engagement ring back.”

“Why now?” You ask with a laugh. “What, are you getting married sometime soon?” He looks away, not able to look you in the eye. Your jaw drops in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? I've only been gone for a few months and you're engaged. Who?”

“It doesn't matter who. Just give me the ring, and I'll be gone out of your life forever,” he says harshly.

“Tell me who,” you demand. You notice Yoongi pull into his driveway with perfect timing. Great, just great. This day just couldn't get any better. “You owe me that much.”

“Hanna,” he said quietly, looking down at his shoes as you hear Yoongi's car door open and close in the background.

Hanna, the one who you caught him in bed with. The one who you thought was one of your friends. You see Yoongi linger by his kitchen door in your peripheral vision after he slowly made his way up the steps to his house. You turn your head to look at him. Unfortunately, it triggered Changkyun to do the same. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed.

“Baby, I wish I could change things,” he said in a sickeningly sweet, smooth voice. “I know we were so good together at one point, but that ended. I’ve moved on, and you need to accept that. It's time for you to move on as well.”

“Don't call me that. You need to leave. I'm not giving you anything,” you hiss at him and turn to leave.

“That ring is mine,” he growled at you, grabbing onto you again and pulling you to him. You stumble over your feet as he pulls. “Just give it to me.”

Before you can even comprehend what was happening, Yoongi was in between the two of you. He gives Changkyun a forceful shove, making him stumble backward away from you. Yoongi reaches behind his back and pulls you behind him more, shielding your body. Protecting you. Keeping you safe.

“Just go,” Yoongi growls at him, and Changkyun just laughs at him. “It's clear she doesn't want you here. Get in your car and get the fuck out of here!”

“You think I'm afraid of you?” he asks, looking at him with a distasteful look before looking over Yoongi's shoulder at you. Changkyun laughs at the two of you, shaking his head in amusement. “Min Yoongi? Really, that’s the best you can do? Fuck, are you that desprate?”

“Well he's a million times better than a selfish jackass I know. I don't have the ring anymore, so just leave,” you yell at him from behind Yoongi.

“Where is it?” he snaps at you.

“Watch how you fucking talk to her,” Yoongi snaps back at him, still holding you behind him.

“I pawned it,” you laugh from behind the blonde man, making Changkyun narrow his eyes at you. “It bought me a lovely tv hanging on my wall right now. It's much more pleasant to look at than that ugly ass ring.”

You watch as Changkyun clenches his jaw and stomps away back to his fancy SUV. He stops halfway to his destination before turning back to look at both you and Yoongi. Changing his mind, he walks back toward you. Yoongi reaches back again, making sure that you're still tucked away safely behind him.

“You know,” he says, approaching you. “I never wanted to marry you. I only asked becasue you wouldn’t fucking stop nagging me about it. You were never good enough to be my wife, you stupid…”

That was enough for Yoongi as something inside him snapped. You watch in horror as he throws himself at Changkyun, taking them both onto the hard ground below their feet. It probably would have been comical watching two grown men roll around on the ground had they been strangers, but they weren't, and they were both pissed. This wasn't funny at all. You watch on, with your hands in front of your mouth in shock as Yoongi, who comes out on top lands a punch to Changkyuns stomach from above making him double over and turn slightly away from him. Changkyun, although laid out underneath the pissed off blonde, he wasn't deterred for too long. Using all his power, he spun his torso around quickly, elbowing Yoongi in the face and successfully knocking Yoongi off of him.

“STOP IT!” You yell out into the evening air as Yoongi lands on the ground next to your ex-boyfriend. They didn't listen to you. Changkyun stands, quickly grabbing Yoongi by the back of his jacket, bringing up on his own feet and bending him down low enough to knee him in the side, making him drop again. Yoongi's knees hit the ground hard before catching himself with his hands so he didn’t fall flat on his face. “CHANGKYUN STOP IT! STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You scream at him as he goes to grab Yoongi again.

You push forward, latching onto Changkyun’s arm, trying to shake him off Yoongi. Unfortunately, he wasn't discouraged and managed to get Yoongi back up. Grabbing his wrist, you pull as hard as you could, but he was much stronger than you. Instead, you sink your nails into his skin, dragging them across his flesh, leaving angry red lines in their wake. Changkyun growls. With his free hand, he pushes you away, causing you to stumble back and fall on your ass.

“Keep your hands off her,” Yoongi barks sharply.

Gaining some strength, Yoongi sweeps Changkyun's leg, causing them both to fall once more upon the ground. They roll around a couple of times, trying to each gain the upper hand. You scooch back on your butt trying to stay out of the way.

“She deserved it,” Changkyun growls, pinning Yoongi underneath him. They are both panting, but Changkyun smirks in victory as he looks down at Yoongi. “You think you're so tough. Fucking Min Yoongi, you ain't shit!”

You're too focused on watching your ex pull his arm back for a punch, you hardly register the footsteps quickly running up the driveway until an extra body jumps on Changkyun’s back pulling him off of Yoongi. Jungkook wraps his arms fully around him, dragging him back and away from the hurt man on the ground. Changkyun struggles with your friend, trying to get out of his hold. Tae jumps in quickly, getting in front of them just in case he breaks away and helps Jungkook push Changkyun back until they get him to his car.

“Yoongi,” you cry out, throwing yourself next to him as he struggles to get himself onto his knees.

You grab on to him gently and bring him close to you. He rests his head on your chest as he tries to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him. You stroke his hair with your hand, hoping desperately that he was okay. You see him close his eyes, taking in your touch. You wish you knew what else to do. You wish you could take everything back. You wish for a lot of things.

“You're both pathetic and deserve each other,” Changkyun yells out before finally getting into his vehicle, slamming his door shut in anger.

“Go, before we call the police,” Kook said, pointing to the end of the driveway.

Changkyun backs out of your driveway and squeals his tires before racing away, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind in the air. You watch him drive away until his tail lights disappear in the rapidly darkening horizon. Tae comes over and helps Yoongi stand on his own feet. You slowly get off the ground and stand beside them, waiting for someone to say something. Carefully, you place your hand on Yoongi's shoulder, but he instantly shrugs it off. That hurt. You can feel your heart drop down to your stomach. It's really over.

Yoongi and Taehyung take off, walking to his place while holding his side and slightly hunched over. Jungkook approaches you, and the two of you stare at each other. He looks sad. It's been weeks since you last talked to him. He's probably been actively avoiding this whole mess. You know he would never want to choose between you and Yoongi like Jimin and Tae apparently did.

“I should go with them,” he says, jerking his thumbs to the house next door. He's choosing Yoongi, and your heart breaks a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer with a nod. You don't blame him for wanting to leave. They were his brothers. You, you were the bitch he was renting his house to. The bitch who they can't make money off of. “Yeah.”

You turn and go to your house before he can even walk away or say anything more. Unlocking the door, you enter your house and slam the door shut, making the blinds on the kitchen windows shake and rattle. It wasn't going to work. The business plan wouldn't work. Your friendships weren't going to work. This small ass town wasn't going to work. You grab your phone from your bag. Pulling up Joons contact, you open a new message.

I’m taking the third grade job. I'm sorry I can't do this.

You can't. You won't.

《Chapter Eleven 》

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap , @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822 , @busanbby-jjk , @pitchblack0309 , @bluesiebirdie

[jjungkookislife]

For the prompts, Namjoon and smut 28 and fluff 30 please! And thank you!

Take It Off

pairing: namjoon x f. reader

warnings: smut (unprotected sex), not proofread

prompt smut - 28 - "This is why I get off to you every night by myself."

prompt fluff - 30 - "Are those my clothes?"

Namjoon was ready to propose when you walked into his home with your overnight bag.

You had been dating for a while but this was the first time you were staying the night at his place.

After dinner, you shared the shower, kissing until the water ran cold.

Namjoon had gotten out first, dressing in some loose sweats and one of his oversized hoodies. He was warming up a towel for you while you did your skincare routine unbothered by the icy temperature flowing from the shower head.

"Got it!" Namjoon chimes as he steps back into the bathroom. You thank him as you shut the shower off before sliding back the door to step out carefully. Namjoon wraps you up in a fluffy white towel, kissing your nose when he's done.

"I'm gonna go get the movie set up. Shout if you need me, okay?" He asks as he heads for the door.

"Got it, babe," You wave him off as you dry off, using a towel for your hair and a washcloth for your face.

You walk to his bedroom, eyeing your overnight bag. You take out a pair of panties but then head to Namjoon's closet. He's got an array of hoodies, all your favorites on hangers, and all with his scent. You pick one out before stealing a pair of sweatpants from his dresser.

"The movie is ready!" Namjoon announces as he hears you shuffle into his living room.

He does a double take when he sees you, his smile all dimples and shine.

"Are those my clothes?" He asks with excitement as you join him on the couch.

"Maybe," You giggle as he drapes himself around you. He kisses your cheek before he admires you.

"They look good on you. Feel free to keep them," He says honestly and you shake your head.

"But then they won't smell like you," You pout. Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head. Could you be any more adorable?

"Fine, I'll wear them to keep them smelling like me, okay? But fuck, you look so good in my clothes." Namjoon can't get over it, he slides his hands under the hoodie, only to realize you aren't wearing a bra underneath.

"Fuck," he curses as he lets his head drop to your shoulder. "This feels like a wet dream."

You laugh, poking his side. "Shut up!"

"I'm serious," he laughs. ""This is why I get off to you every night by myself."

You press your legs together, your body thrumming from his words. "Joon, shut up."

Namjoon notes the breathiness in your tone, how your thighs press together, and how your chest heaves beneath his palm.

"Oh?" He smirks. "You like to think of me jerking off to you? My hand wrapped around my dick, wishing it was your wet cunt instead? Wish you could hear how I moan your name when I cum all over my hand?"

"Joon," You're breathless, wet, and ready to jump him where he sits if he keeps talking.

Namjoon grins as he nuzzles into your neck. "What, baby? Can't handle the truth?"

You breathe, leaning close to press your lips to his. It's easy to straddle him, his hands going to your hips as he kisses you. He moans when you nip his bottom lip, tugging it to suck it before releasing it.

His hands move lower to your backside, squeezing to make you moan his name as he tugs the sweatpants down your legs.

"Don't need those tonight," He smirks as he kisses you before he pushes your wet panties aside, sliding his fingers home.

"Joonie, fuck me," You whine.

"Soon, baby girl. Soon," He promises as he grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss that leaves you seeing stars.

"This is better than any wet dream," he giggles and you smack his chest as he presses his thumb to your clit to make you shake in his lap. You moan, cursing him as he lifts his hips to release his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of it slapping against his abdomen.

"Where do you want it?" He asks, noticing your dilemma. You want him to meet the back of your throat, to make tears roll down your cheeks as you try to take him all the way but you also want him to split you open seven ways from Sunday.

Namjoon laughs as he removes his fingers from inside you. He lifts your hips and slowly slides you down his length. You grip his shoulders, kissing him to keep from cursing. Namjoon groans, murmuring how much he loves you in between tiny kisses, promising you a ring and anything else your heart desires and you let him.