#Tau Ross. 'cause. he has bob ross hair. :)!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[luxekook]

chapter eight.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 6.5k

⇥ warnings: 18+, lots of cursing, general chaotic energy [more than usual], poly relationship, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, switch!hobi, sub!yoongi, sub!jk, sub!tae, sub!jimin, jk is a whole cutie, everybody gets their bob ross on, PUNS, pick up lines, smut [thigh kink, noona kink, marking, oral (f receiving), dom/sub themes, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, lots of lap sitting]

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Eight

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:38am

I wake to the sound of thunder and groan as my eyes strain to focus on the rain pouring down outside my window. Hastily, I grab for my phone and scroll through my notifications. Yup, my friend Brianna - the president of the Alphites - had emailed to say that Habitat is cancelled for the morning.

What did this mean for my date? Swiping over to the group chat, I quickly type a message to the boys.

Queen (y/n), Worldwide Handsome, and 6 Peasants

8:40am, (y/n): “Yo, dweebs. No volunteering today because of the rain. Looks like our date is cancelled, too…”

I laugh evilly as my phone consequentially blows up with a series of question marks and exclamations. Just as I’m about to put a stop to the madness I’d caused, my phone screen darkens with the telltale chimes of an incoming FaceTime.

Not even bothering to shift out of bed, I swipe to answer. “Hi, Hobi,” I grin at my sunshine who looks a little pouty this morning. The metaphorical rain cloud over his head lessens marginally at my smile.

The puffy, bare-faced boy sighs and runs a hand through his wild hair. Obviously, Hoseok had just woken up, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.

“(Y/n)? Did you hear me?” Hobi chuckles, bringing my attention back to my phone. “You weren’t serious, right? Our date is still on? We have the whole thing planned! The rain doesn’t even affect it! And—”

“Is that (y/n)?” A cry of uproar sounds from the background on Hobi’s end of the line. A thundering of footsteps commences; and, suddenly, I am faced with seven slivers of faces all crowded together.

“(Y/n)!” Jungkook rips the phone from Hoseok’s grasp and takes off out of the room. The background blurs as he runs. Faintly, I can make out blurry figures giving chase behind him. “(Y/n)! Please still come over. We have everything set up! Saturdays are always full of noona, and I don’t want to break the tradition.”

Letting out a laugh at the fluffy haired boy, I smirk, “First of all, let me just say that I’m glad you don’t subscribe to the whole ‘SaTuRdAyS aRe FoR tHe BoYs’ toxicity. And second of all, you do realize you just gave away the date plans, right?”

“Jungkook!” The shout from what could only be an enraged Seokjin echoes across the connection.

I watch in amusement as the background once again blurs. As the feed refocuses, Jimin’s beaming face greets me, and I roll my eyes at the realization that Jungkook must have tossed him the phone. Probably playing a game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’ with their eldest brother, I assume.

Deciding enough is enough, I retake control of the situation with the tried and true method of the shock factor™. “Hey, I’m naked.”

Silence falls.

Then comes the seven pairs of eyes crowding the screen that I had hoped for.

Disappointed huffs resound from the collective as I cackle, trying my best to ignore their indignant cries.

“Noona’s not even naked!”

“Why, there’s not even a boob to be seen!”

“She’s got us lookin’ like boo-boo the fool, boys…SMH!”

“Jin, did you just say ‘SMH’?” The boy opens his mouth to respond, but I decide there’s no time to discuss acronyms right now. Shaking my own head swiftly, I clear my throat, “No, never mind. Now that I have your attention, I need someone to tell me what the plan is. Am I getting out of bed today? Are we still doing the thing?”

“You can get out of your bed and into mine,” Taehyung’s words barely escape his mouth before he is pushed out of frame by at least four of the others.

“Tae, are you trying to get your name added to my punishment list?” I smirk as two boys in particular gulp, “Jimin and Jin already have the distinct honor. Isn’t that right, boys?”

“You can add my name, noona!” Jungkook gasps out, lunging once again for control of the phone. He is shoved out of the way by Namjoon.

“Oh, my little Kookie,” I laugh, “That would practically be a reward for you.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your own punishment, (y/n),” Namjoon stares me down from the other end of the phone.

“I mean, you can try it,” I shrug, “But I’ll probably either like it or turn it around on you at some point. Just saying…”

“Sounds good to me,” Joon grins, his dimples popping out, “Now get your sweet ass over here so I can spank it.”

“Right now?” I double check the time, “It’s still not even nine fucking AM. What is this going to be? Some sort of all day extravaganza? Y’all better be feeding me.”

“Yah, do you know who I am?” Jin butts in from his small corner of the screen, ”You are in the presence of Worldwide Handsome Chef Extraordinaire Kim Seokjin! Of course you’re going to be well fed - both with my visuals and with food!”

“I have no words,” I say.

Jin forges on, “Speechless, eh? I’m used to it.”

“Could the two of you stop your gross flirting for one second so that we can actually convince (y/n) to come over?”

Yoongi’s scowl appears on screen as he takes control of the phone. Jin can be heard squawking indignantly in the background.

“Gross?” I raise an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying when you were teaching me piano.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Taehyung yelps.

“I think so,” Jimin answers darkly.

“Wait, what’s a ‘you feminism’ again?” Jungkook mumbles from somewhere in the room.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon moans, sounding completely done, “(y/n), I am begging you to hang up and call my phone so that I can actually let you in on the plan.”

“Bet,” I say, “I’ll call you in an hour. I’m going back to sleep.”

I hang up, abruptly cutting off their whiny protests. Boys can always wait. Extra sleep, however, must seized at every opportunity.

Sinking back into the bliss of my comfy bed, I smile as I flip my phone over and promptly fall back asleep.

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 11:57am

“(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)!”

“(Y/n), for the love of Jared Padalecki, get your ass up!”

Groaning, I wave Luna off with a limp arm, still half asleep. “Go away,” my garbled words prove to be futile as she pulls the covers right off of me.

“Your entourage is here,” Luna hisses, grabbing my ankle and attempting to tug me off the bed.

“My what?” I kick at her hold, “Stop going all horror movie on me!”

“You haven’t seen horror! Horror is waking up to the furious sound of fists pounding at the front door and thinking your dark past of downloading music off of sketchy websites has finally caught up with you! Horror is pulling open the door in just your Harry Potter onesie only to be faced with seven hot and all-too-put-together dudes!”

My brain slowly wraps its away around the meaning of her words. “Oh, fuck.” I launch out of bed, flailing around for my phone.

111 Messages

34 Missed Calls

14 Voicemails

“Good god,” I toss my phone back on my bed and stalk past Luna into the living room where my ‘entourage’ is gathered.

“Okay, what the fuck,” I cross my arms over my chest as I stare down at the seven boys spread out across our second-hand sectional.

“Noona, you’re here!” Jungkook springs up from his seat and tackles me in a hug.

“Where else would I be? I fucking live here,” I mumble into his chest, annoyance slipping away with each breath.

“I told you she just overslept,” Yoongi mutters from the couch, sounding very much like he was dragged here against his will.

“Finally,” I say, pulling away from Jungkook to beam down at Yoongi, “An intellectual. Now, what about the rest of you overreactive imbeciles? Did you just come over so that you could snoop around where I live?”

As I say this, my eyes narrow on Namjoon. The boy is inspecting the teacup I had forgotten to put away last night like it’s a new archaeological find. My words fluster him, and he fumbles with the cup before it falls from his grasp to shatter on the floor.

“I am so sorry!” Namjoon yelps. The rest of the boys look on with disappointment but not surprise.

“That was my great grandmother’s teacup,” I whisper, falling to my knees dramatically.

“Namjoon, your destructive nature has gone too far!” Seokjin yells, scrambling over to me. My face is buried in my hands as my shoulders shake. I can’t hold it any longer.

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Joon. I’m kidding. It was just a cup from Target’s clearance section.”

“So evil!” Namjoon whines, “I was so worried!” Shuffling over to the hallway closet, I pull out our dustpan and broom. Walking back, I hand it off to Namjoon before he can attempt to pick up a fragment of the shattered cup.

“Don’t even think about using your bare hands, Joon,” I narrow my eyes at him, “A trip to Urgent Care does not count as a date.”

“Noona,” Taehyung pipes up, “You should join the Acting Club! Did I mention I’m the president?”

“Oh, here we go,” Yoongi scowls, flicking his eyes over to where Seokjin is rapidly turning a concerning shade of red.

Mount Seokjin erupts, “You’re only president on a bullshit technicality! Fifth years can’t be on Exec boards, you swine!”

“Yo, Seokjin, I’m really bummed about that policy, and Imma let you finish. But, let me just say that if y’all don’t leave so I can get ready, I will avoid you for the rest of time.”

Seconds tick by. I frown, “I don’t see movement. Why don’t I see movement?”

“Well,” Jimin hedges, shrinking under my gaze, “We figured you could just come back with us? It would save you a trip?”

The disobedience in this crew would drive me off a cliff. “I guess I was not clear the first time. I am going to drive myself because: 1) I can leave on my own terms and 2) I can leave an overnight bag in the car just in case. Although, that possibility is slipping away by the millisecond.”

“Alright! Time to go!” Jungkook barks, herding the boys towards the door.

As they practically run out the door, Namjoon turns back to me with an arched brow, “No going back to sleep.”

I salute him, “Scout’s honor. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, I’m finally left in peace and quiet.

“Want to explain what that was all about?!” Luna stalks out of her room, “I need the tea!”

A full hour and a half later, I find myself in an eerily empty frat house.

“Y’all really kicked everyone out, huh?” I comment as I peer around each corner of the house. There is not a soul - besides these seven fools - to be seen.

“I mean, there are only three other people that actually live here permanently,” Namjoon counters, ever the diplomatic president, “The rest of the rooms are mainly for guests or if a member needs temporary housing.”

Humming noncommittally, I come to an abrupt halt when the dining room comes into view. All the furniture has been pushed to one side to make room for eight easels and an excessive amount of paint.

“It looks like a Michael’s threw up in here,” I marvel.

“Who is Michael?” Jimin pops up next to me with narrowed eyes. The rest of the boys file in behind him.

“My sugar daddy,” I deadpan, “He’s an artist.”

Namjoon cracks up, while Jimin pouts adorably. “I guess you know what we’re going to do now, baby,” Namjoon says, still chuckling lightly.

“We’re doing DIY Painting with a Twist!” Taehyung yells, “The twist is that there’s no wine. Namjoon said it could get ‘too out of hand’ - whatever that means.”

“What is everyone going to paint?” Hobi asks the room after a brief pause, “I’m going to make something for (y/n)! It’s a surprise.”

“That’s so sweet, Hobi,” I smile at the boy, “Thank you!”

Not a group to be outdone, the boys quickly affirm that they too had been planning to make something for me all along.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh, “Careful, I’m going to get used to y’all spoiling me.”

“Good,” Namjoon nods, “You’re learning.”

“Yes, daddy,” I tease, “Are you going to keep spoiling your good girl?”

“You’re not a good girl,” Yoongi laughs, “You’re a fucking force of nature.”

“Thank you,” I wipe a nonexistent tear from under my eye, “This is why you are currently my favorite.”

“What!”

“Wait, you have a running favorite?”

“How can I get to be your favorite?”

Five minutes later, the room is empty aside from Jungkook and I. The rest of the boys dispersed the moment they decided to make painting a competition for my favor.

“Aren’t you going to hide away, too?” I address the younger boy next to me.

“Why would I go anywhere else when you’re right here?” Jungkook shuffles closer to me, “Besides, I wanted to use a different canvas.”

“Ah, I see,” I nod sagely before pulling my long-sleeved shirt up and over my head.

“Noona!” Jungkook chokes as he takes in my slightly sheer tank top and the black bra that peeks out from underneath, “I meant your wrist!”

“Calm down, Kook,” I laugh, “I can put it back on if you want. I just don’t want to get paint on it.”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously.

He then grabs my arm gently, flipping it over so that the inside of my wrist faces up. His thumb brushes over my erratic pulse and pauses. “Are you nervous, noona?” His wide eyes stare up at me, “You don’t have to let me paint on you.”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” I say, brushing his fallen hair out of his eyes,  “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

The boy’s cheeks bloom a bright red as he flashes me a small smile, “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

My heart swells as the cuteness that is Jeon Jungkook, and I can’t resist teasing him further. “Jungkook,” I whisper, leaning forward, “I would gladly share my door with you to keep you warm.”

“Noona,” He whines, trying to pretend like he wants to get away from me. I would rate his efforts a 1/10 considering his hand is still firmly wrapped around my wrist.

“The iceberg would melt because of how hot you are…” I keep going, arching closer to murmur in his ear, “Just like the Titanic, I would go down on you for hours.”

“Noona!” Jungkook yelps, “Stop playing with me!”

“Fine,” I pout, “But the offer stands.”

“You’re going to kill me…” He mumbles. Dipping his paintbrush into his nearby palette, Jungkook begins to etch the outline of what looks like some sort of flower onto my wrist. The strokes of the brush across my skin make me shiver - something that does not go unnoticed by Jungkook.

His eyes dart to mine, and I feel like crumbling under the weight of the adoration I find within them.

“Kookie,” I glance down, breaking the intensity before it consumed me whole, “What kind of flower is this?”

He mumbles something inaudible.

“What?” My ears strain to pick up the boy who for some reason decided to answer in the language of tiny.

“A tiger flower,” Jungkook turns away to grab a new brush, his hair failing to hide his flushed cheeks. I watch enraptured as he mixes the orange and white shades to get the end result he wants.

Returning to my wrist, he leans down and lightly blows across the drying paint.

“This is unfair,” I mumble as the boy continues to unknowingly seduce me. Or did he know? My eyes narrow as his gaze flicks to mine. Arching a brow, I decide to press him, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the matching tattoo on your forearm, right?”

“N-no,” Jungkook panics, eyes darting this way and that, “That would be Ludacris.”

Did he just— Not the time.

“Mhm,” I hum, ever the skeptic.

Jungkook swallows before once again resorting to tiny speak, “Okay, yes, it does. I’m asking you to love me, noona. Please.”

My breath escapes me in a whoosh as I stare dumbfounded at the pleading boy who once again starts to paint my wrist. Why is such a beautiful human lacking in adoration? Why does he need my affection when he has six other lovers?

“Why?” The question slips past my lips before I can catch it.

“Because,” He continues to paint, “I can see myself loving you for a very long time, and I just want to be loved back for just as long.”

The silence that falls after Jungkook’s admission feels safe and comfortable. His words swirl around my mind. And as he finishes the flower now adorning my wrist, I give him an answer I’m not even sure he had been waiting for. “Jungkook,” I wait until he meets my eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with you yet. I’m not even sure I know what love is or what it feels like. But I can see myself falling for you. And I do know that there is a place in my heart labeled ‘Jeon Jungkook’, just like there are six other places for the rest of you… Y’all really do take up a lot of space.”

I let out a little laugh as Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. I continue, “It scares me sometimes. How I might fall for all of you and get heartbroken seven times over. But, I might also fall for all of you and get seven times the amount of love in return. And so I’m willing to fight for that chance. Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, and then he whispers, “I really like you, (y/n)-noona.”

I lean closer to him. Our noses brush as I whisper back, “I really like you, too, Jungkookie.”

The smile I get in response is blinding, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m done!” Taehyung hurtles through the doorway, lugging a giant canvas that definitely had not been in the room earlier, “I call this masterpiece: ‘My Boo’.”

Gaping, I take in the massive canvas full of swirling colors and abstract shapes. It’s honestly overwhelming and a bit dramatic, but that is Taehyung. And I love it.

“It’s so pretty!” I coo, shuffling over to side-hug Tae.

He shyly hangs his head on my shoulder, “You really think so?”

“Yes, baby,” I nod, “Of course I do.”

One by one the other boys return to present me with their art. Seokjin presents a sea of rainbow colored hearts (“Get it? I see hearts when you’re around!”). Hobi shows off his technicolored sunset (“It’s how I feel when I look at you, (y/n)! Hopeful, but at peace.”). Jimin bashfully hands over a painting of two silhouettes dancing (“It’s us.” *blushes profusely*). Yoongi gives me a black canvas with a portion of lighter blue mixed in (“You make my world brighter.”). Finally, Namjoon shuffles over with a succulent plant in a painted flower pot (“I accidentally elbowed a hole through my canvas… This is my favorite plant, for you.”).

The boys also marvel over the flower that Jungkook painted on my wrist while the younger boy beams with pride. One of them mentions ordering pizza for dinner, and the room clears within seconds as the majority flees in search of a menu.

Namjoon is the last to remain, admiring the art etched on my skin. “You know what it means, right?” He murmurs, thumb tentatively brushing across the dried paint.

“He told me,” I nod, focused on the gentle caress of his fingers.

Namjoon lifts my hand to his mouth and places a light kiss. The motion takes me back to the memory of a few weeks ago where he first had performed the action. “I hope you know the sentiment extends to all of us as well.”

“Oh, does it?” I smile, “You might have to mark me to make it believable.”

“Consider it done,” Namjoon says before pulling me closer to him and placing his lips on my neck. What an opportunist, I muse as he bites down gently. His tongue flicks before his lips once again press down on my neck. Namjoon litters my neck with small kisses. I gasp as he suddenly returns to the initial spot and bites down slightly harder, sucking and licking at my neck afterwards.

“Joon,” I breathe out as he pulls back, looking all smug and proud of himself, “I will get you back for this.”

“I look forward to it, baby.” With that, Namjoon laces his fingers through my own and tugs me out of the room towards the ruckus being caused in the kitchen.

One hour later, the eight of us are piled on the massive living room sofa.

“I think I’m pregnant,” Seokjin moans, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “The father is Papa John.”

“I told you not to race to beat Kook to the last slice,” Hobi shakes his head, “No one ever listens in this house.”

“You get me, bro, you get me,” Namjoon extends his fist to Hoseok who fist bumps him.

I survey the room from where I’m perched on Taehyung and Jimin, one leg hitched over one of theirs. “I thought we were going to watch a movie?” I furrow my brows, “Or was that just a ploy to get me to stay longer?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet, “I’ll go get Titanic!”

“No!”

“Please, god, no!”

“Noooo!”

The crestfallen expression that crosses Jungkook’s face tugs at my heartstrings. “Aw, Kook, I really inspired you with my words earlier, huh?” His pouting intensifies as he stalks back over to his end of the couch.

“Never let me watch what I want,” He mumbles. Sensing that this is an often fought battle, I shimmy off of Tae and Jimin and head over towards the youngest.

“How about this,” I reason, “Let the group decide what movie to watch, and I’ll sit with you during it.”

“Promise?” Large brown eyes peer up at me. At my nod, his expression brightens, and he pats his legs excitedly.

Settling down on his thighs, I realize I have made a grave miscalculation.

My thigh-riding kink + Jungkook’s muscular thighs = chaos

As the rest of the boys argue between watching Die Hard or The Hangover, I shift my hips slowly to try to get more comfortable. Jungkook’s swift inhale tells me that my move wasn’t as low-key as I had hoped.

“Noona, stop moving,” He mumbles into my hair, his arms firmly circling my waist.

“Sorry, baby,” I mutter back to him, trying hard to reign in my thirst.

The boys finally decide to watch Die Hard. Minutes tick by as the movie I’ve seen multiple times before plays on the screen. I’m only half paying attention, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook isn’t paying attention at all.

His fingers have shifted under my tank top and are drawing patterns onto the skin of my stomach. “So soft,” He marvels, his words ghosting across the skin of my neck.

The effect the boy has on me is deadly, and I retaliate with one of the only ways I can. I grind my hips slowly down onto his. The heat of his body warms my own, the hardness of his cock becoming more and more apparent underneath me.

“Noona,” Jungkook moans, “You’re so unfair.”

I whisper back, “You started it.”

He scoffs, moving my hair to one side of my neck, and pauses. “Oh, what’s this?”

“Don’t even think—”

His lips descend onto my neck, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Insolent child,” I breathe out, trying to keep my shit together despite finding it so fucking hot that Jungkook’s mouth is where Joon’s had been just over an hour ago.

Keeping my eyes firmly on the screen where John McClane is steadily taking down a whole crime organization singlehandedly, I try in vain not to imagine getting double teamed by Jungkook and Namjoon. By the time the credits roll, my panties are a mess. I can feel Jungkook practically throbbing underneath me from being so hard, and I’m pretty sure my nipples could cut through glass.

“What’d you think, (y/n)?” Hobi beams over at me from the other end of the couch.

I plaster a smile on my face like I hadn’t just been imagining the whole room naked and engaged in NSFW activities. “It was iconic as always!”

The boys seem to happily accept my answer. Well, most of them do. Yoongi is staring at me with a suspicious expression. Damn, that boy is too observant for his own good.

“Well,” I decide to try to regain some semblance of self-control, “Where did I put my keys?”

“WHAT!”

“You can’t leave! It’s only 9pm!”

“You said you would would stay overnight!”

I roll my eyes upwards, at least this provided Jungkook an opportunity to tug a pillow onto his lap. “I’m going to get my bag from the car, you fools.”

The boys let out a collectively sheepish “Ah”.

“I’ll walk you, noona,” Jimin stands, making his way over to my side.

“Trying to butter me up, baby?” I can’t help but ruffle his hair, “Okay, come on.”

Jimin and I make our way to the front door where my keys lie on the entryway table. Grabbing them, I head out into the darkness of the front yard with Jimin trailing after me.

“Will you sit with me for the next movie, noona?” Jimin asks, running a hand through his hair as we trek towards my parked Jeep.

“What’s in it for me?” I joke, unlocking the passenger side door and grabbing my bag. Turning back towards the house, I shut and lock my car behind me.

“Cuddles?” Jimin answers, eyes wide and bottom lip poked out.

“Stop that,” I moan, moving swiftly past him, “Puppy-Dog eyes? That’s so unfair!”

“Is it working?” He races to keep up with me, “I think its working.”

“You’re still on my shit list, Park Jimin,” I whirl around, drop my bag to the ground, and grab the front of his shirt. Moving to a standstill with his lips an inch from mine, I say, “Or did you forget?”

Jimin gulps, his eyes dark, “I didn’t forget. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

I place the lightest kiss to his lips, “Good answer.” With that, I pick my bag back up and waltz back into the house. “Are you coming?” I call at the boy still standing in the middle of the front yard.

“Now I know why Kook says you’re mean,” Jimin shakes his head at me as he regains the will to move.

“You’re a fast learner,” I comment, placing my keys back onto the entryway table. “I’ll sit with you.”

“Yay!” Jimin cheers, “I’ll go tell Taehyungie!”

“What?” I screech after the boy’s departing form, “I didn’t know this was some sort of package deal! Lord give me strength…”

Rifling through my bag to double check I have everything, I notice that I seem to be lacking a sleep shirt. How is it that I could pack three different pairs of socks for one night over but forget a fucking shirt?

“SOS,” I call out, zipping my bag back up. Once again, the sound of stampeding steps is heard before the seven of them appear above me.

“Someone needs to give me their biggest and comfiest t-shirt.”

A brief pause permeates the room before all seven boys dart into action. Left all alone in the entryway, I let out an incredulous laugh at how completely whipped I’m becoming for them.

After a few minutes, I hear them congregating in the hall just up the stairs. Just as I’m about to go investigate, they shuffle down. Namjoon presents me with a pile of what must be a selection of t-shirts from the bunch.

“We all want you to wear our clothes, so we decided to make it fair and just let you pick one without knowing who’s it is,” Seokjin explains.

Looking around the room, I can tell they all think this is a magnificent idea. Meanwhile, I’m baffled why they think I wouldn’t know who’s shirt is who’s just from the style, size, and smell. However, I decide to be a nice girl and play along.

“Okay,” I grab the entire pile along with my bag, “I’ll go change.”

“I’m so excited!” Taehyung bounces up and down, “She’s going to pick mine. I know it!”

“That’s because you gave her your Ce—” As Taehyung tackles Jimin to the floor, I take that as my cue to leave.

Speeding up the steps, I make a beeline for Yoongi’s room, entering and locking the door behind me. My bag is tossed on the bed first followed by the sea of mostly black and white clothing. They know me so well already.

I examine my options:

A white Balenciaga t-shirt with “Europe 2018” embroidered in red over the heart,

A soft pink hoodie by Marques’ Almeida with long black silky drawstrings,

A red and black striped Raf Simons long-sleeved shirt with sewn-on patches,

A Fear of God white t-shirt with the iconic “FG” on the front,

A black Mastermind t-shirt with the brandname and a skull and crossbones emblazoned on it,

A black Celine t-shirt also with the brandname on the front, and

A grey long-sleeved t-shirt by Carhartt with the name in blue along the sleeve.

Making my selection, I shake my head over the careless nature these boys handle their extremely expensive clothing. I am almost certain that Jungkook had given me the only shirt of the bunch that was under $100.

Regardless, I fold the rest of the shirts before stuffing them into my duffle bag. If they all want me to wear their clothes, I will - eventually. Quickly, I change into my sleep shorts, tug on what I assume is Hobi’s shirt, and head out of Yoongi’s room.

Opening the door, I blink as seven expectant faces shine back at me. Six expressions fall as one lights up even more. “You chose mine!” Hoseok cheers, running to engulf me in a hug that sweeps me off my feet, “Oh, you look so cute!”

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“Why’d you leave your stuff in Yoongi-hyung’s room, noona?” Taehyung pouts as the rest of the boys try to pretend like they also aren’t miffed.

“Because I’m going to sleep with him?” I march over to Yoongi and hug him from behind, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Is that okay with you, Yoongs?”

The boy grumbles under my show of affection, but his hands come up to clasp over mine as they circle his waist. “I can live with that, I guess.” The eye roll accompanying his words is so evident even when standing behind him.

“You’ll pay for that, baby boy,” I whisper in his ear before biting gently down on his earlobe, reveling in the cute little squeak that emits from him in response.

“She’s still sitting with me and Tae during the next movie, though!” Jimin - ever the instigator - interjects as the group makes their way back downstairs. Yoongi and I shuffle behind them.

The eight of us decide to watch The Hangover next since that had been the runner-up before. Once again, I’m draped between Jimin and Taehyung. This time, I’m fully placed on Jimin’s lap while my legs are sprawled out across Tae’s thighs.

My legs had barely even settled onto his lap before his hands were on them. This time I don’t even pretend like I’m paying attention to the movie. I’m more entranced by the way Taehyung kneads his way up my legs from my ankles to my calves to the insides of my thighs.

Meanwhile, Jimin is snuggled into me tightly. His face is shoved into the crook of my neck, and I honestly think he might be sound asleep. With each breath, Jimin’s pillowy lips brush my collarbone. I couldn’t tell if this is my own personal heaven or hell.

Looking up, I meet the dark gaze of Min Yoongi once again. Neither of us break eye contact as I try to read the look on his face and his body language.

He is either: 1) pissed off by something I did, 2) turned on by something I did, or 3) all of the above.

My hunch is the third. Testing that theory, I slide my tongue across my bottom lip. Sure enough, his eyes track the motion instantly before returning to mine. Bing-pot.

The movies seems to take way longer than it’s hour and forty-something minutes. I blame the combination of my sexual frustration and the varying degrees of awareness of it from the boys.

As soon as the credits roll, I extract myself from the holds that Jimin and Tae had on me. “I’m tired,” I lie.

“Aw,” Seokjin hurries over to me and sweeps me into a tight hug, “Get some beauty sleep, darling. Because, in the morning, I’m making pancakes!”

I place a swift kiss to his cheek, “Sounds perfect.”

I bid the rest of the boys goodnight with similar affections. Slowly, I make my way over to the stairs, knowing that Yoongi is trailing after me closely.

Making sure to put an extra swing in my hips, I climb up the staircase like I was getting paid to do it. Finally, I enter Yoongi’s room, turn to face the boy it belonged to, and tug him inside.

“What the fuck, Min Yoongi,” I hiss before closing the door behind him and shoving him against it.

“What?”

He has the audacity— I take a calming breath.

“You eye-fuck me throughout the entire movie and ask me ‘what’?” My hands curl into the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile makes its way across Yoongi’s face as my glower intensifies, “You can’t expect me not to think about that after you announce to everyone that you’re sleeping with me.”

“I didn’t mean literally, you buffoon,” I groan, turning away to head towards the bed.

Yoongi grabs my hips, halting me in place. “I know. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about what it would be like with you. What it would be like to be selfish with you.”

“You want to be selfish with me?” I ask softly, “What does that mean?”

“It means that I know that Tae was the first to get your mouth, but I want to be the first to give you mine.”

Yoongi’s words steal the breath from my lungs and the chill from my very soul. I gasp out, “You want to taste me, baby? That’s what you want?”

“More than anything,” Yoongi groans, pushing his hips into mine. “Please, (y/n), I’ll do anything to put my mouth on you.”

I pull away from Yoongi so that I can face him. His pupils are blown out, his hair is messy, and his expression is devastating with its pleading look. After being teased by so many of the others for the whole evening, he looks like my salvation.

“Okay,” I nod, lying down with my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. “Do your worst. No, not the time for that expression. Do your best. Please.”

Chuckling, Yoongi sinks to his knees before me, running his hands up my legs and resting on the hem of my shorts. He sends me an asking look, and I nod. His fingers shake slightly as he pulls off my shorts.

Left in nothing but pair of lacy red boy-briefs, I shiver in anticipation as I feel Yoongi slip a tentative finger underneath the remaining material.

“Fuck,” He groans, sliding his finger up and down my folds, “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Well, do something about it,” I command, moving my hips up so that he might get the hint to take of my underwear. His finger slides out from underneath them and he doesn’t even hesitate before sucking it into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” I hiss, getting more and more impatient.

Yoongi pulls his finger out of his mouth, “Sorry, (y/n), I just want to savor this moment.”

“You can savor my pussy with your mouth,” I say, “Or are you all talk, Min Yo—”

Quicker than I can comprehend, Yoongi slides my panties to the side and licks a stripe up my folds. I moan as he sucks and licks at my pussy like a man possessed.

“Fuck,” I grab his hair and tug him closer, feeling him moan into me.

The build up of tension and frustration from being surrounded by these boys for the entire day has me on the brink of orgasm already.

Yoongi’s mouth closes over my clit, circling it with his tongue and flicking it slowly.

“More, Yoongi,” I demand.

He listens. Still worshipping my clit, Yoongi slips a finger inside me, curling it in such a practiced way I could scream.

He adds a second. Yoongi’s fingers thrust in and out of me as his tongue continues to taste and tease my pussy.

When he hits a certain spot in me, I moan his name, and I swear he growls. Repeatedly, his fingers hit that same spot inside me and I’m panting, trying my hardest not to come. Not yet.

“Harder!” I moan. Again, Yoongi follows like a good boy, his fingers and tongue picking up the pace.

Pausing to pull my legs over his shoulders, Yoongi meets my eyes. The pinkness of his lips glisten with my juices as he sighs, “I think you might be my new favorite meal.”

Before I can even respond, his resumes wrecking me. He fucks me with his fingers, grabbing at my ass with his free hand.

His mouth devours my pussy, wreaking havoc on my clit with every flick of his tongue.

My thighs quake as my battle to hold off coming becomes too much to endure. My back arches as the pleasure builds up with each quick stroke of his tongue and every movement of his fingers.

As if he knows exactly how to ruin me forever, Yoongi sucks on my clit harshly, and I come, my thighs trapping him between them. Despite it all, Yoongi continues to fuck me, lapping up everything like a starving man.

Soon, the overstimulation hits and I relax my thighs. Pulling his hair, I murmur, “Stop.”

Yoongi obeys.

“Come here,” I sit up, extending an arm out to him. He shuffles forward and when he is within reach I launch myself at him. Kissing him fiercely, I taste myself on his tongue.

“That was so good, baby,” I reach my hand up to stroke his flushed cheek. “Do you want me to help you out?”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, “I would rather eat you out again.”

“You’re insatiable!” I cry, tugging out of his hold. “We’ll see…”

a/n: this chap got away from meeee AHHHHHH it’s the longest one yet uwu hope u enjoyed! :) also this is v unedited bc i wanted to post asap so keep that in mind hehe

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