#and recently i feel like i keep fucking up

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, yandere, toxic relationship, friends with benefits, guns, threats of harm and death, name-calling

gn reader

When you open your heart to your fuck-friend, he sighs with rust.

You still have his cum inside your hole as he tears you a new one—telling you he doesn’t have the fucking time or the fucking energy to deal with lovey-dovey confessions right now—he has enough bullshit on his goddamn plate already without having to consider you and your fucking feelings as well.

If you’re not going to shut up and fuck him, you might as well shut up and fuck off.

So you do. The latter, that is.

Part of you knew it was going to end up this way. You with your heart broken and him with the blood on his hands. But part of you had hoped as well—hoped he felt the same way—hoped your words would soften his edges and wash away all the muck in his head enough to let you in.

You’d read a little too much into those gentle touches he sometimes bestowed upon you in his weaker moments—that soft way he cried when holding onto you during the night, wordless and clingy and begging you not to go.

But the more you think about it, the less you understand why your heart aches. It doesn’t really make much sense after all…

In truth, he’s an asshole. Always been. And you deserve better.

He’s always so angry. Always on something mudding up his blood. Never with anything nice to say. It doesn’t really matter how you’d held him in his nightmares or patched him up when he’d stumbled through your door drunk and bloody. 

Scarred boys in need of fixing aren’t good for your health—especially when all they have to offer you in return are callous words of rejection.

He’d always been secretive. He wasn’t a very good lover—but you're not entirely sure if he was ever even a good man. The wounds he’d dreg to your apartment in the middle of the night always left blood on your sheets. He never agreed to go to the hospital—always insisted your first-aid kit was enough, even when he'd come to you with bullets you’d have to dig out with a pair of tweezers.

You realize he’d been using you. You were convenient and stopped being convenient the minute you wanted more—and upon the realization, you move on.

And then he comes crawling back…

Shivering in the rain like a beaten street mutt—looking starved and sick like one, too. There’s blood on his shirt and a grim darkness in his eyes. He tells you to let him in, and you only barely have the guts to tell him to go away. 

He has this tortured look on his face—as though something’s your fault, as though you’ve wronged him in some way, as though you’re the reason he’s out in the cold with nowhere to go.

Barging in and slamming the door behind him—he locks it and pockets the key—ignoring your questions as you ask him what the fuck’s gotten into him. He looks deranged—water dripping from his matted bangs, eyes reddened, and cheeks streaked. You only now notice it isn't because of the rain.

“You said you wanted me, didn’t you?” he huffs. “Here I am.”

You’re tense. You hadn’t felt like that with him before, it takes you a minute to realize it’s because you’re scared. After all, you’d wanted him all those other times—rough or otherwise. And now you didn’t want him at all. 

“You should leave. You’ve been drinking.”

“What? You changed your mind already?” he accused, then scoffed with an unamused laugh. “I’m not surprised. People like you, who like danger and bad men, are always so fickle-hearted.” He approaches you too fast for you to back away, his scarred hands curling into your sweater—split skin from recent beatings bleed onto the fabric. “Flighty little slut, you’ve probably already found the next guy who gives you a rush. Isn’t that right?” He’s seething as he pulls you forward, looking like a hostile hound.

You lay your hands on his chest to keep him at a distance—feeling his entire body shake like static. You wonder if he’s taken drugs tonight, but looking into his eyes, you don’t think so. They aren’t fidgety but deadset. Actually, upon closer look, you don’t even think he’s drunk.

But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You still don’t want him here. “I’m serious. Get out, or I’m calling the police.”

“Oh? Are we slinging threats now?” he jeers, showing no signs of letting go or leaving—he only pulls you in closer, so close you could kiss. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” He breathes out a short excuse for a laugh as you veer away, putting his lips to your ear instead. “You should have been from the start—but no—grinding up on me at the club as though you’d die without my attention. Crying pretty tears when you saw me all beaten and bruised—acting as though you want to save me. Tch—”

He throws you down on the carpeted floor. You wince from the impact, and when you look up again, you see he has a gun pointed at you.

You stop breathing. A dark hole in your gut seems to want to swallow you from the inside, and you think you might just want it to if it means escaping the threat before you.

“I shouldn't have come here…” he mutters—finger resting on the trigger all too calmy. “But I just couldn’t get your face out of my head. Looking up at me with those doe-eyes, wearing my shirt even though it’s got blood on it after I fuck you silly, saying such sweet little nothings as if I’d paid you to.”

He sighs—heavily—as though he’s expelling spirits. His hand remains holding the gun poised and pointed straight down at you even as the other drags down his face, pulling his maw before sliding through his wet locks, raking them away from his face.

“I gotta kill you, you know?” he says, shoulders slumping with the statement. He sniffs—it's almost soft enough to be a sniffle. “That’s the only way to solve this. That’s the only way to get you out of my fucking head.”

He cocks the safety with a click that makes your life flash before your eyes. Faces of your family and friends, people you haven't seen in years, childhood pets long dead, a job interview, the holiday you felt true happiness, the night you went out dancing and met him.

The tears stream silently down your face, and you still don’t breathe. Every part of you, every nerve and muscle, has gone completely still. Unmoving, unblinking as you stare up through the barrel of the gun and wait for the bullet to come through.

His finger curls tighter around the trigger, and you close your eyes with a furl between your brows. And then…

Nothing. There’s a large exhale.

“I can’t do it…” 

You open your eyes to see the gun lowered. The sight brings a rush of air back to your lungs, making you all but wheeze as it fills you, breathing in far too much and much too quickly. You regain some semblance worth of motoric, too—able to scramble backward until there’s no more room to be gained, sitting with your back against the wall. Eyes peeled at him where he’s taken to crouch, holding his head with his free hand and the one still with the gun in it.

He fists his hair and tugs on it frustratedly, muttering to himself. “Dozens of lives on my hands, and I can't kill this one single-” he stopped short.

This time, when he looks at you, there’s something else in his eyes. No malice or scorn, but something sad—pity almost.

“Well… seems like you got what you wanted...”

The pity’s meant for you.

“This is what having my heart feels like.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji AOT – Eren DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ (FEMxM) INSERT masterlist ♡ (GNxM) INSERT masterlist

[dolldefiler]

[Channelling my inner hedge fund CEO with this one.]

C/W: Gaslighting

Come again? You want to quit? No, sweetheart, you don’t. No, I’m telling you that you don’t want to quit. What’s happened here is that you’ve gotten a little overwhelmed with our… new working relationship recently and you just need a little refresher. That’s okay. Come here. Good girl. See? Fuck… this body doesn’t deserve to be hidden away in these tight, slutty clothes of yours. It belongs to be out here, doesn’t?

Of all the things you were, clever was never one of them. Hey, hey, it’s okay. Now, you started your career at this firm eking out a meagre existence of filing paperwork, filling in paperwork, scanning more fucking paperwork, you get the idea. And you would have spent the rest of your life doing just that. You’d take the smallest amount of money we’d give you to keep you quiet but not so little that you’d leave. That’s how you’d spend your life.

Now look at you in your top of the line clothing and expensive perfumes. No, there’s no need to hide it. I touch these clothes and smell these perfumes everyday. Be a sweetheart and take out my cock for me, darling. If you really plan on leaving, consider it a farewell gift. Good… Good fucking girl… Nobody makes my cock twitch like you do. With all my money, I couldn’t buy a fucking whore that can handle my dick like you can.

You were some nameless little drone, tucked away and doomed to be forgotten until I saw you. I wanted you. Do you hear that? Are you listening, miss? My cock twitched the second it saw you. I imagined bending you over that table and stealing you away from your manager, your boyfriend, anyone that would stand in my way. And I still feel that way.

Even though… Fuck, yes pump my cock like that… even though you fucked up that little fucker of a case last month or the Evans case three months ago. Your time under my wing has been marked by little mistakes. But do you know why I keep you? Because you make me cum so hard. You drain every drop of stressed up spunk from my balls and you do it like a pro. Even now, when you’re so hell bent on leaving your hands are threatening to make me buckle. Now bend over. Yeah, on my desk. Nobody’s going to walk in, sweetheart.

Shiiit, you’re as tight as the day I first fucked you. You know what I really like about you? What makes you better and more addictive than Miss Timbers on the third floor or Mrs Raynard in the legal department? You have better tits and a much, much tighter pussy. You’re so much fucking better than them. And you know what that means, don’t you? It means you could make so much more money than them.

You and I both know you’re not my secretary on merit alone. Walk out of here and there won’t be a single firm in the city that’ll pay you as much as I do. Not nearly as much. And all you have to do to keep up your fancy little brunches and sweet cars is get on your knees every once in a while and do what you were born to do. Just. Suck. My. Cock.

That’s all. It’s that easy. Sure, there'll be a little bit of fucking in between, but we both know you enjoy that. What do you say to that? Yes? Atta girl. Now go and lock the door. I’m going to slip out of these trousers. We’re going to need to celebrate your new payrise.

[ln4swiftie]

Black and (Fluro) Yellow

🕷️ln4 x reader

🕷️ lando if he was spider-man

🕷️warnings: panic attack, kinda angst idk notes: hill the fluro suit had me thinking and this

🕷️ a/n: this is barely edited and kinda bad but enjoy!! <33 also im trying to write more so gimme ideas

The final bell rang through your ears as the school day ended and the bustle of the weekend was underway. You packed up your books, waving a polite goodbye to your teacher and made your way to your locker. You felt a pinch in your side and you swung your head to find your boyfriend, Lando looking at you with a goofy smile. “Hey where did you come from!?” you smile up at him while you continue to empty your belongings into their home for the weekend. “Calculus, i swear if i have to listen to that man talk about quadratics for another minute i'm going to lose more brain cells than gain.” he complains. “Well at least now we get to go and do nothing.” you say as you wrap your arms around his waist and place your chin on his chest. “About that..” he sighs and you know what's coming.

He's been blowing you off for weeks. It started with little things such as not saying goodbye before leaving school or not seeing each other between class periods. But now he's been completely ditching you. He refuses to tell you why and you’re starting to worry if you’ve done something wrong. You deflate as you prepare to ask him what the excuse this time is when your phone chimes in your pocket. “Oh it's laur..” you click the link your friend sent, you gasp “what the fuck”. Lando looks at you puzzled as you flip your phone around to show him.

It's a video of the new vigilante known as “spiderman” beating a man to a pulp in some alleyway, throwing punch after punch until the man was on the ground bloody and bruised. Once the beating was done Spiderman is shown swinging away before the video cuts off. “Did he just kill that guy-” “No. he didn't.” Lando cuts you off quickly. The slightest clench in his jaw and tense in his shoulders did not go unnoticed. “Well how can you know for sure…he was hitting him pretty hard.” you counter. “You can see the guy moving before he swings away.” he says firmly, as if he knew this as a fact. Spiderman showed up about a month ago, earlier sightings of him have consisted of him helping cats down from trees and escorting the elderly across the road. The public had grown to love him and his friendly neighborhood activities. But recently, he's been violent and the city has been working to catch him. Unfortunately with the identity of the spider being unknown, the police have come back empty handed. Lando gently takes your hands into his as he changes the topic “Look, I'm sorry but Max wants me to help him with his physics homework and he's got a test tomorrow. So I will see you tomorrow okay?” he says softly. He can see the hurt in your eyes as you give him a slight nod and a quick kiss before walking off towards the bus station.

Lando hates how he's been treating you these past weeks. Blowing you off for shitty excuses that he knows are shitty but he can't stomach telling you the true reason why. He's watching you walk off as he feels his best friend clap him on the back of his neck “you ready for tonight boss?” Max says in his ear. He notices Lando's stare and follows his eyes to where they've been trained to follow. “No lando we cant think like this” shaking his head. “You'll see her tomorrow.” he firmly reassures his friend who's beginning to question the late night activities he's been doing for the past month. “I'm not sure about that max..” he sighs “i cant keep watching her deflate everytime i cancel on her” he says quietly. “You could just tell her-” “NO.” Lando shouts, shooting his head towards max. Telling you would be like pouring sea salt into an open wound. Lando would rather give up everything, than tell you the truth about where he is at night. “Okay okay! Don't tell her, but either way..you're going out tonight.” Max says, putting his hands up in surrender as he begins to walk towards the student parking lot to his car. He turns around towards Lando who's still stood next to your locker staring in the direction you walked off in. “you coming or what?” After a beat of contemplation, with a heavy sigh, Lando makes his way to Max's car.

-----------------------------------------

You were sat on your bed, doing homework on your ipad. You Glanced at the time, double taking the clock sat on your nightstand when you see the number it read. Holy shit. you’ve been here since you got home at 4pm…it was now 6:30 pm. You jump off your bed and quickly check your phone, expecting a million texts and calls from Lando wondering what you're doing and complaining about Max's inability to understand the basics of physics.

Nothing. Not a single text.

You feel your heart drop. He hasn't texted you in 5 hours when he asked you to meet before you left school for the week. The tears prick your eyes as you check your other notifications seeing nothing from your boyfriend. Could he be cheating? No. he would never do that to you. But would he?

Your thoughts race through your mind as the panic begins to set into your chest causing your breathing to become uneven. Your vision starts to swim and your phone falls to the floor, your arms going numb. You hear your mom call your name for dinner but the noise goes in your left ear and immediately out the right. As if you have been submerged underwater. You feel your legs give out and you land ass first at the foot of your bed.

The loud thud heard from the kitchen causes your mom to shout for you again to pulse check.. When nothing was heard back she rushed upstairs to the source of the noise. When she finds you in hysterics she's in front of you instantly, cupping your face to wipe the tears. She helps you steady your breathing and bring you back down from your panic attack. “What's got you so worked up sweetheart?” she softly asks and she moves to your side. You explain everything that's been going on with Lando recently. She thinks for a moment before she speaks up “how about, we get some food in you. Then I drop you off at his place and you two can talk this out.” she offers. You give her a small smile, nodding as the two of you get up and make your way downstairs to eat dinner.

-----

You stare at the apartment door marked with the 4 before you bring your hand up to knock. The door opens revealing landos Mom, Cisca. “Oh hi honey what brings you here?” she asks, letting you inside the apartment. “I was hoping Lan was home.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head. “No not yet, but he should be soon. How about you go wait in his room for him and I'll bring you a cup of tea.” you nod weakly and wander towards Landos room as Cisca moves to the kitchen. You leave the door ajar and lie on the bottom bunk of his bed, eyes darting around the room, flashing memories of the past 2 years that have been written in the walls. You turn your body towards the wall snuggling into the comfort of Landos smell embedded into the sheets you’ve spent countless hours in. your eyes start to feel heavy as sleep takes over your body. deciding a small nap while you wait couldn't hurt, you let your mind drift off.

-----

You’re woken by the sound of the window opening. finding that you're still alone in lando’s bed you sit up hoping it's him just opening up the window. You look over to find the window open, yet no one next to it. You think nothing of it due to the wind and sit up to reach for the cup of tea Cisca left you on the nightstand while you slept. You sip your tea sat on the bunk as your eye catches a figure on the ceiling. Yes, the ceiling. You see that black and fluorescent yellow suit you’ve seen all over social media for the last month crawling around on the ceiling of your boyfriend's bedroom. What the fuck is spiderman doing in Landos bedroom?! You thought to yourself as the man gently lowered himself onto the floor and reached for his mask, removing it.

And that's when you saw him.

Those curls you run your fingers through whenever you get the chance to. Those curls you help tame when he takes his hat off after a long day. Those curls you love with your whole heart. Those curls which belonged to the boy you loved who was currently standing with his back to you, wearing spidermans suit.

You gasp, causing lando to look up and freeze. He doesnt turn around to face you, he knows who he's going to see. He knows it's over. The moment he's been dreading since that spider bit him that night. He's going to have to explain his past month and a half to the one person he didn't want knowing about this. The one girl he wanted to keep protected from this new hobby he's got himself tangled up in. and yet here he was frozen, staring at the picture frame sitting on his dresser.

The picture of him and you from the first time you went to the London eye. The picture is you two at the top with Landos hands around your waist and your arms swung around his neck. Your faces are squished together wearing the brightest smiles on your faces. Looking back, Lando wishes he could stay in that moment forever, frozen in time. But he knows that can't happen.

He slowly turns around to face you and look you in the eyes. Your lips slightly parted due to shock and hair slightly messed up from your nap. The mug slips through your fingers and falls to the floor shattering and spilling the lukewarm tea. “Shit” Lando whispers as he springs to action, grabbing the towel from the back of his door to soak up the tea, he looks up to you “are you okay? No cuts?” you're frozen, unable to speak, staring at him in that suit. All you can do is nod at him while he gently picks up your feet, placing them loosely on his bed while he cleans up the broken mug. You pick at your fingernails anxiously while you wait for him to finish cleaning.

After a few minutes he sits down next to you, freshly changed into a hoodie and sweatpants. Your eyes are trained on your lap where your hands sit pulling on the thread of the hoodie that you’re wearing. After what feels like hours of silence you’ve had enough “why didn't you tell me?.” you demand, you want answers. You want to know how your boyfriend and who you considered to be the love of your life became the person who you see brutally abusing people in alleyways. He turns to look at you, eyes full of regret. He opens his mouth to answer you but you cut him off, cupping his face. “fuck what happened?!” you stand up looking for a first aid kit when lando stands up to stop you, grabbing your hands “baby, baby stop it's okay max already helped me clean it and it’ll heal by the mornin-” “MAX KNOWS??!??!” you shout a little too loud for lando’s liking. He puts his hand over your mouth, shushing you so you don't wake his mother. “yes max knows because he was with me when it happened” he explained calmly, hoping his emotions will radiate onto you.

He slowly releases your mouth and you sit back down “are you gonna let me explain to you how this happened now?” he raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer. You give him a nod to continue and he takes a deep breath.

He began to explain how one night walking home from your house with max a radioactive spider bit him. He explains how Zac Brown, one of the richest men in the country, approached him and helped him understand his powers and the new responsibilities that come with them. He even was the person to make Landos suit for him.

“I'm really sorry that I’ve been a shit boyfriend recently, i never wanted you to get caught in this” he says, playing with your hands. You can't help but giggle “Here I was thinking you were cheating on me yet you were out fighting crime.” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting it against your own “never in a million years my love” he says. “How about we get some sleep?” He smiles, squeezing your hands intertwined with his. Agreeing that this conversion should happen with a good night's rest. The two of you move to lie down in Landos bed cuddled against one another. Your head rests on Lando’s chest with his arms wrapped around you like you'd disappear the second he let go. As sleep beings to take over you hear a faint “i love you” coming from the boy beside you. You look up to see him already meeting your eyes “i love you too” you smile, kissing his chest before falling asleep with him safe and sound.

[girlsdads]

thigh fucking

It is best when it is like this, Max thinks, when they are the two of them together and Daniel is warm and pliant in Max’s arms.

There’s a gloomy haze draped over Montreal that casts the room in a gray, watery light, but the golden planes of Daniel’s bare chest against the white sheet are all the sunshine Max ever needs.

Max shifts, rubs his legs a little against the bed, feels the crisp cotton pull at his leg hairs. Daniel mumbles something in his sleep, then his lips puff out as he exhales warm morning breath right into Max’s face.

Max’s cock kicks so hard in his sleep shorts it startles Daniel awake.

“Mmm, little guy’s eager this morning, huh?” Daniel’s voice is gravelly with sleep. He smiles lazily and Max darts forward to swipe his tongue across Daniel’s big front teeth, right over the thick plastic of his retainer. It makes Daniel bark a soft laugh and wiggle closer. Max’s belly feels hot.

“Is it so surprising?” Max splays his hand low on Daniel’s pelvis, hikes his body closer. Daniel makes that little squeak that Max loves, and when he speaks again he sounds slightly breathless.

“Not at all. How d’you want me?”

Max hums, considering. He stretches his middle and ring fingers to card through the thick curls of Daniel’s pubic hair. Daniel shivers. Max grinds idly against the plush curve of Daniel’s ass. In truth, he wants to bury himself inside that welcoming heat, loves to feel how soft and open Daniel gets just for him, loves how he always moans and whines for it. But Daniel doesn’t like to get fucked like that too soon after a race weekend, not like Max does—he’s too sore from being in the car, the jolts and bumps and vibrations. That’s the part that Max enjoys most, actually, but Daniel has always been more sensitive than Max in that way.

Max slides his hand down the crease of Daniel’s inner thigh and hooks his arm underneath to lift Daniel’s leg while keeping him on his side. “Like this, I think.” He positions his already soaked cock against Daniel’s hot skin and releases his leg, his thighs pressing tightly closed as he realizes what Max wants.

This is perfect, Max thinks, as his hips stutter. Daniel’s legs keep his cock snug between them, the soft hairs that he’s let grow out recently deliciously ticklish against Max’s sensitive skin. Everything with Daniel is so unbelievably, devastatingly good.

Max is close already, which used to make him feel embarrassed but now just makes him feel fucking insane because he knows how much Daniel likes it when he can’t hold himself back. And anyway, they’re not using lube so it is better if Max comes quickly so Daniel’s thighs don’t chafe.

“Oh, Maxy—fuck, that’s so good.” Daniel’s head lolls back onto Max’s shoulder. His mouth hangs open and Max can see his tongue has dislodged his top retainer.

“Can I fuck you Daniel, when we get home?”

Daniel moans and his retainer drops onto his tongue, Max hears him spit it out onto the bed. “Fuck yes, as soon as we get in the door I’m all yours, baby.”

“I will have you on the sofa, then.”

Daniel’s left hand flies back to grip Max’s butt cheek, guiding his now erratic thrusts. Max can hear the wet slap of Daniel fisting his own cock.

Max is pressing his face into the sweaty skin at the nape of Daniel’s neck so he can’t see it, but he knows when Daniel comes because his whole body arches and twists and shakes like he’s trying to expel a demon. It makes Max’s cock slip upwards, rubbing against the soft loose skin behind Daniel’s balls. The tip grazes over where Daniel’s hole is warm and fluttering and trying to open for him. Max hears himself croak as he shouts and claws at Daniel’s hip to get him closer, come splattering across his hole and up his crack all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine.

Max rolls Daniel flat on his belly as he works through the aftershocks of his orgasm, smearing his come all over Daniel’s cheeks and lower back. Once Max stops quivering and is satisfied that Daniel is sufficiently covered in him, he drops his weight so he’s fully blanketing Daniel’s softly shaking body. He presses a lingering kiss to Daniel’s shoulder blade.

“That is for P8.”

“Mm.” Daniel giggles, muffled by the pillow but still the most joyous sound Max has ever heard. “What do I get for a podium?”

[iwantdottoresobad]

The Doctor's Little Assistant.

ft. dottore !

sypnosis ; dottore rewards you for your hard efforts.

warnings ; top ! dottore , dottore is a warning himself , face fucking , power dynamics , boss n assistant relationships , degradation , slight praise , facials , light face slapping , lowkey rushed no bullying :'3

wc ; 1.6k. enjoy !!

Dottore's personal assistant. 

You're the only one allowed inside his lab, outside of his clones and his disgusting little lab-rats of course. You're one of the only ones he actually tolerates. You're always so good for him, tidying up his mess of an office when he doesn't ask and always bringing him extra coffee when you know he's running low on it.

He's almost certain he's not gonna kill you off like the others, he likes you.

He likes the way you immediately oblige like you even had a choice when he asks to experiment on you. "I'd be happy to, my lord." You say, giving him a smile and a nod. He knows that you're scared beneath your little act, he can just sense it, and he loves it. He gets off on your pain and fear, and he finds it amusing when you try to hold back your wails of pain. 

Dottore especially loves when you start to let tears run down your face because of how much it hurts. You're left trembling, sniffling every couple seconds as he unstraps you from the vivisection table, but you would be lying if you said there wasn't a part of you that secretly enjoys it. He's a sick and twisted sadist, and you like it.

He thinks you're so pretty with your tear stained face and ruined makeup. He just shakes his head when you complain about it as if you weren't the one crying.

Maybe if you had let him remove your tear glands and ducts it wouldn't be an issue.

Dottore brings you to the fatui meetings too, he knows it's not allowed but he could care less. when Pierro reminds him that, "Anyone who isn't apart of the ranks, is strictly not allowed into the meetings." Dottore ignores him, and he keeps you right by his side, and when he can see your legs getting tired, he orders you to sit on his lap. He doesn't care when you get embarrassed, and he certainly doesn't care that his co-workers look at you two either, his sadistic smile only grows larger.

"You've been a very obedient girl as of recent, haven't you." It was an observation, but you still nod your head as if he just asked you a question while you try to avoid looking at his face. "Stupid little thing. Look at me when I talk to you." Dottore growls. He grabs your jaw with a vice like grip to make you look up at him and even though you can't see his eyes, you can still feel them on you. It feels like all the air has been knocked out of your lungs and you're quick to mutter out an apology. "Of course, my lord.. 'm sorry." 

"Good girl." He praises as he pulls his gloved hand away from your jaw. "I'd say an award is in order, hm?" He says as he starts walking over to a swivel chair that's behind you. You want to follow him but in fear of being disobedient, you stay frozen in place. As he sits down, he calls out your name and you're quick to turn around to face him. 

"Crawl to me."

You stand there for a moment, processing his words, feeling the heat slowly creeping into your cheeks. "Yes, my lord," you manage to spit out. Despite the embarrassment, you comply, dropping to your knees and then shifting onto all fours, moving toward him as instructed. Each movement is deliberate, the anticipation building with every inch closer to him. Finally, you find yourself between his legs, facing him on your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you settle between Dottore's legs, your heart begins to race due to anticipation. You can feel his gaze piercing through you and it sends shivers down your entire body as you wait for his next command.

Dottore smirks, relishing in the control he holds over you. "Always so good," he murmurs, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You know exactly how to please me." You lower your gaze, feeling the weight of his words like chains around your neck. "Thank you, my lord," you mumble obediently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk only widens as he looks down at you, reveling in the power he holds. His gloved hand reaches out, fingers curling under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The leather feels cold and unyielding against your skin. "You look good on your knees," he muses, his tone dripping with sadistic undertones. "Maybe I should make you my desk pet."

You whine and swallow hard at the suggestion, feeling a mix of fear and excitement coil in your belly. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly and truthfully you don't even know what you're asking for. The way he looks down upon you, like he knows you're inferior to him, sends shivers down your spine.

He releases your chin and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs slightly to give you more room. "You know what to do," he commands, his voice cold and demanding. "Show me how compliant you really are, love."

Oh fuck.

The pet name almost kills you and it makes your breath hitch. You nod anyway, reaching up with shaky hands to unbuckle his belt. You can feel Dottore watching you as you do so and you can feel your face burning with embarrassment. But you push through, determined to please him.

As you pull down his trousers, you're met with the sight of his cock straining against his boxers. it sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can't let out a soft moan at the sight. Dottore's chuckle is low and menacing, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. "Come on," he urges, his voice low and almost taunting. "You know better than to keep me waiting."

You comply and pulling down his boxers, freeing his cock and you can't take your eyes off of it. You lean in, pressing a tentative kiss to the tip and licking a long stripe up the side. Dottore's grip on your hair tightens, and he lets out a breath of approval. "Good girl," he murmurs. "Now take me in your mouth,"

You comply almost instantly. You open your mouth, taking his cock in slowly with your tongue swirling around the tip. Him in general but especially the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second. You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, and his low groan of pleasure spurs you on.

Dottore's other hand joins the first, holding your head steady as you bob up and down. "Such a whore," he degrades, his voice laced with arousal. "You take me so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss. His voice and his words a thrill through you, and you try taking him deeper into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to please him. Your pace quickens, your movements becoming more desperate as you lose yourself in the task.

Dottore's grip tightens painfully, and he thrusts his hips up, forcing himself deeper into your throat. "This is what you wanted, hm." He says, and though it was a statement, you still try to nod your head stupidly. In the process you gag, tears springing to your eyes, but you don't stop and neither does he. "That's right, gag on it." His groans grow louder, his breathing becoming more ragged. "You're so pathetic."

Your eyes water as you look up at him, the tears only serving to heighten his pleasure as he loves to see you cry. He smirks down at you, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes down your cheek. "Pretty little thing.." He murmurs. "Take it, take it deeper."

He holds you there for a moment longer before finally releasing your head. You pull back, gasping for air, your lips swollen and wet with saliva. His chest is heaving up and down while you wrap your hands around the length of his cock. "I'm gonna cum," he groans, "Gonna paint your pretty face."

 Dottore pries your hands away from his cock and begins to stroke himself. You whine at the sight in front of you. "Please," you breathe out. He scoffs in amusement before slapping the tip of his cock on your cheek. "Open your mouth."

You instantly obey, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out. You're gross and messy right now but you know he likes seeing you ruined, especially if he's the cause. You're watching him stroke his cock from above you, pressing his thumb to the swollen and leaking tip. 

Your needy whines must've been just what Dottore needed to drive him over the edge. He groans as he reaches his climax and his free hand reaches for your jaw with a tight grip to hold you in place. Thick ropes of cum soon cover not only your chest, but your face and tongue as well. You keep your mouth open in an attempt and in hope to catch more of his cum on your tongue.

As soon as he comes down from his high, his hand comes down to slap your cheek and command you to swallow the bits that landed in your mouth. You oblige. He takes one more good look at you before tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants up. "Clean yourself up." He spits coldly, and you nod. "Yes, my lord."

"When you're done, there's some paperwork I need you to get from The Regrator's office. Once you get it, bring it back here and I'll reward you once more."

[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.3k

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, his friends are real ones, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging, OC’s lips are often compared to 🍒

• Notes: Welp, here it is; my first Cheol fic! I didn't plan to take this long to finish, but between work, getting sick and my bestie's birthday, ya girl has been busyyy 🥲 but here he is, so enjoy! 🎉 much thanks to @hobeemin for the beta! 💖

Seungcheol was barely paying attention to his friends' conversation, trying desperately not to go onto his ex’s Instagram and check her recent stories. But every time his thumb hovers over the multi-colored circle with her smiling face, the recent events play through his mind. It leaves a bitterness on his tongue, which ends up with him closing the app for what must have been the fifth time.

“Hyung, get off of there.”

He looked up to see Wonwoo giving him a stare of sternness mixed with worry, feeling sheepish that he was caught red-handed. Then again, he must have noticed earlier and only chose to say something now.

“Sorry.”

Wonwoo sighed, leaning in and speaking lowly, “If you keep going on there, I’m going to confiscate your phone.”

Seungcheol’s brows knitted at the warning.

“And what if someone tries to reach me?”

“Then I’ll give it back, but until then, you won’t have phone privileges.”

He couldn’t help but click his tongue. As annoying as the threat was, he secretly appreciated Wonwoo’s way of keeping him from doing something he might regret, like reaching out to his ex less than two weeks later rather than continuing to play it cool.

It wasn’t heartbreak, per se, just a loss of familiarity and a routine that bothered him. He was used to checking up on her at certain times, often receiving the same energy back. Plus, the lack of cuddling and deficiency of sex was about to start making him restless.

He appreciated the tough love because the rest of the men in the car showed their support by dragging him to an unruly house party that he wasn’t even sure he’d enjoy.

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol quickly snapped at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming to be about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it, and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized they had a point. What was the use of getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get-togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he returned to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

His response was met with a round of cheers, drowning out the hip-hop blaring from the speakers.

“That’s the spirit!”

Joshua took advantage of the red light to turn and shoot a proud smile.

“We just want you to have fun, yeah? So quit sulking.”

Seungcheol did himself no favors by narrowing his eyes and pushing his lower lip out.

“I’m not sulking.”

As expected, Joshua gave an eye roll amidst the chorus of laughter, turning back around to continue driving. Seungcheol decided to get more involved in the conversation for the rest of the trip, only glancing at his phone for notifications. Not once did he hop onto Instagram, choosing to entertain a heated debate over who would be the first casualty tonight. His money was on Seungkwan, who fought against the accusation with insistence.

Either way, he hoped his friends continued to distract him for the rest of the night like this.

The plan to distract Seungcheol was going poorly. Actually, no. Poorly was an understatement.

It was going horrendously.

Everything was fine when they stepped into the party. It was easy to get accustomed to the noise and the crowd of bodies, especially once a red cup was shoved into his hand. One of his favorite songs was even playing, his foot automatically tapping to the beat while listening to Joshua and Chan converse.

But it went horribly awry when a drunk Seokmin and Soonyoung bounded up to them, asking where his other half was.

His reaction was as instantaneous as his friends’, yet more subtle. Seungcheol tensed up and clenched his jaw, fingertips making a dent in the plastic cup. Of course, the duo was too far gone to see his sudden change in mood; they only blinked in confusion when Seungkwan began yelling at them for their goof. Just as Wonwoo started explaining why their greeting was poorly thought out, the eldest quickly excused himself, turning and making a beeline for the much less crowded kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if he needed something more substantial to drink or to remove himself from a messy situation. Either way, he ended up staring blankly into the icy assortment of beers in front of one of the many coolers.

So much for distracting himself tonight.

“Excuse me?”

A steady voice brought him out of his wallowing, looking over his shoulder to see a young woman standing behind him, pointing to the cooler.

“Mind if I get in there?”

“O-Oh. Sorry.”

Seungcheol swiftly stepped aside, feeling a bit abashed at getting in the way. You didn’t seem to mind too much though, sending a smile as you squatted down to begin rummaging through your options.

“Indecisive?”

He blinked at your query.

“Huh?”

You continued speaking while rifling through, “You were staring down here for a hot minute.”

Oh shit, was he? Damn. He must have looked like a party pooper, no doubt sulking as he tried to get himself back into a festive mood.

“Uh, yes, let’s call it that…”

A giggle escaped at the unconvincing reply. Within a few seconds, you popped back up with two different-looking bottles in each hand.

“Are you more of a fruity or bitter kind of guy?”

“Bitter.”

You held out one of the beers, waiting until he took it with a bit of confusion mixed with gratitude.

“Thank you…”

“Of course. You look like you need it.”

Seungcheol huffed, shoulders sagging a bit as he smiled pensively.

“That bad, huh?”

A nod was given, albeit paired with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah.”

He sighed at your observation, the urge to crawl away and hide in a corner until the party ended coming strong. This was another thing he wanted to avoid: the pity people would give him. In the words of Chan, he looked like a lost puppy whenever he caught him thinking about his ex. Surely, that’s what you were reminded of as you continued to gaze up at him.

“My friends dragged me here to distract me from…recent events, but I don’t think it’s working very well.”

“I can see that. I rarely see people not enjoying themselves at one of Seokmin’s parties.”

Your words might have had sincerity, but Seungcheol could only feel more insecure. He stuck out like a sore thumb; that was the last thing he wanted to happen tonight.

Just as he was about to excuse himself to wallow in misery, you asked something that caught him off-guard.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but blink rapidly, ensuring he didn’t mishear you.

A complete stranger offering an ear?

“No, I couldn’t burden you; I’m sure you came to have fun.”

But you were undeterred, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s fine, really. I could use some quiet time—” You grinned without an ounce of regret. “—and sometimes it’s good to have a stranger’s ear, no?”

Well…you weren’t wrong. Although Seungcheol wasn’t expecting to find a willing participant at a house party, of all places. But you seemed eager to help, and God knows his friends have probably heard enough of his lamenting by now.

A shrug of his shoulders was followed by, “If you’re offering, sure.”

Your smile stretched even wider at his approval, reaching for his free hand with your own before leading him to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room.

“Step into my office.”

“Let me guess…a breakup?”

Straight to the point.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

He needed to take a swig to answer this.

“Two years.”

It was no surprise to see a grimace on your face.

“Yikes. My condolences.”

Seungcheol wasn’t sure if he tried to ease you or himself with the comforting smile he gave.

“Thank you, but breakups happen all the time. I’ll be over it soon.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck right now. Nothing wrong with wallowing in misery.”

He scoffed lightly, “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than enough of that.”

You hummed, seeming to understand.

“So was she ‘the one’?”

Seungcheol paused in raising his beer bottle, thick brows scrunching as he took a few seconds to ponder before shaking his head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. It was serious, but not that serious.”

You nodded, yet there was a bout of silence afterward while he stewed on how to express his feelings since the first night his former girlfriend removed her possessions from his place.

“I think it’s…like something is missing. Like I was so used to having her around and there to talk to or spend time with, it feels off.”

“You got comfortable.”

Seungcheol continued, “I did. And now she’s not here anymore.”

Saying this admission out loud pulled the deepest of sighs from his lungs.

“It’s just going to take some getting used to.”

“But you’ll be okay…one day.”

Your sincerity in tone made his head turn, and he saw you gazing at him with something akin to optimism.

“It might not be tomorrow. Might not be next week. But it’ll get easier one day and you’ll be able to think about her without feeling like you’re missing out. Trust me—“ The way your mouth quirked humorlessly on one side as you glanced through the window spoke volumes. “—I know.”

Seungcheol watched as your eyes lingered on the house, seeming to allude to a specific person. He couldn’t help but turn to see if he could figure it out. His answer was received when he spotted a handsome man with cropped black hair getting close to a giggling woman. Sure enough, the look in your eyes was close to what he had expressed lately.

No wonder you offered to hear him out.

“I’m sorry.”

His words broke your trance, turning back to blink rapidly before chuckling.

“Thank you, but it was for the best. He wasn’t exactly the most faithful.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Ouch.”

“Mhm. Well, it is what it is. Now we’re free to fool around with whoever we want, so everyone wins!”

He couldn’t hold back a small laugh at your exuberant claim.

“You have a point.”

The grin you directed at him made his own wider. He didn’t expect a stranger to ease the trouble brewing inside tonight, but your perspective on the situation was refreshing. If anything, his determination to enjoy the party to the fullest returned. You probably wanted to get back to whatever you were doing before, too…

“Thank you for offering your ear. I’m sure you want to return to the party now, right?”

Just as Seungcheol started shifting to stand up, you held up your free hand to halt him.

“I don’t mind hanging with you some more. My friends are kind of bouncing around and doing their own thing, but if you want to go to yours, I’ll let you go.”

…but did he want to go to them?

“I…Honestly, I’m not in a rush, but please don’t feel obligated to stick around.”

Your expression shifted into one of ease.

“No obligation on my end. I kind of…want to keep talking to you.”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes widened at your admission, taken off-guard. “You do?”

“Mhm. You seem cool, uh—”

Right. Neither of you had given your names.

“Seungcheol.”

You quickly clasp the hand he held out, shaking it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

Your hold lingered for a bit, fingers dragging along his own when you finally released, making the tiniest of tugs occur in his stomach. He couldn’t help but be a little excited that you wanted to keep talking to him, expecting to go your separate ways after he vented. The mutual feeling gave him a burst of emotion that needed an outlet, excusing himself to grab another beer for the both of you.

Your ex was still in the kitchen, tongue now tangled with the other woman. Seungcheol couldn’t help but scrunch his nose a little at the sight, mainly thanks to what you had told him earlier. But he fought against the urge to toss an ice cube from the cooler at his head and left with a bottle in each hand, giving one to you as soon as he returned.

“Thank you!” Once he got back in his seat, you held your drink up in the air. “To a fun night! Oh, and fuck our exes.”

Seungcheol laughed at your ad-lib, joining in by tapping his bottle against yours. The two of you moved onto much lighter topics, getting to know each other while sitting on the quiet patio. You were better acquainted with the party host than he was, mentioning how you tended to attend most of Seokmin’s get-togethers. He wondered if he had ever passed by you before or vice versa; a shame it took this long to meet.

At some point, the gap between your bodies had dwindled, knees bumping into each other as you showed off pictures of your pets. The way you cooed and had stars in your eyes as he scrolled through his endless gallery of Kkuma pics didn’t fail to warm his heart. And seeing how your chest puffed while bragging about your own fur baby only made it worse.

But then the phones went down and the mood shifted eventually.

The alcohol and good conversation led to Seungcheol noticing little things about you. Like how you rubbed your collarbones whenever you were deep in thought. Or that you kept grabbing onto his thick forearm each time you wanted to emphasize your words, eyes wide and determined for them to sink in. He didn’t mind the touch at all, but it started encroaching into dangerous territory when he began focusing on your mouth a little too hard.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shape of your lips or how the thick gloss sat on them, but looking at them reminded him of cherries. Trying to ensure he responded to your words was becoming difficult by the minute, fighting the urge to lean down and sink his teeth in. It didn’t help whenever the lusciousness parted and showed off pearly whites and hints of tongue.

“Seungcheol.”

Out of nowhere, you called his name, making him jump as he tried to act like he wasn’t hardcore staring at your lips.

“Yes?”

The cherries tilted upwards as a hand came up and gently tapped a knuckle against his exposed forehead.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your compliment and touch only made his cheeks flare, mouth parting as he prepared to express himself in a way that wasn’t corny or desperate.

“Your lips are gorgeous.”

So much for that.

But you seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his admission, grinning wider as you tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Thank you, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not all…”

Seungcheol swallowed hard as you challenged him, wanting to know precisely what he had running through his mind.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Confidence was more present this time, watching your head tilted in thinly veiled curiosity.

“Oh?” A foot came up and caressed his ankle as you continued, “What’s stopping you?”

Well, he wasn’t the type to just go in for something like that without asking first, so—

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You looked out into the backyard, humming as you pretended to be thinking deeply about your answer, even though the rubbing sensation on his leg hinted at it.

“Mm…yeah, I do—” Finally, your eyes landed on his again, a sparkle in them that wasn’t there before. “maybe I want more than that.”

Seungcheol felt a heat building inside that had been dormant for too long. This interaction was going in a completely unplanned direction, but surprisingly, he didn’t find himself against it.

“Do…do you?”

The nod you gave had zero shame and hesitation behind it.

Ah. Well. There wasn’t any room for confusion, but he had to get this out.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, I—“

But you halted him by putting your finger on his lips.

“I know. Neither am I. We’re just distracting each other—“ A simple smile. “—right?”

Thank goodness you were on the same page.

“Right.”

Pleased with that, you removed your finger before standing up, setting your empty bottle on the nearby table. You then held your hand out, waiting until Seungcheol took it and stood up, following close as you led him back inside the house. The two of you had to zigzag through the crowd, narrowly avoiding dancing bodies. Finally, the stairs were within reach, increasing his heart as you guided him. He looked back into the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of his friends before you continued to pull him out of sight.

When they realized he disappeared, there was definitely going to be some severe questioning later on.

You led him into one of the bedrooms, making sure there were no unwelcome occupants first. When Seungcheol pulled the door in behind him, you quickly spun around, directing the coyest of looks up.

“You might want to lock it; I’d hate for us to get interrupted.”

Realizing that you had a point, he swiftly turned the lock sideways, finding the act and noise a little more comforting. Being walked in on was never fun, especially when you were fooling around in a stranger’s bed.

As soon as he finished, you reached for his hands before stepping back to stand in front of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

This was out of character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?��

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you squeezed his hands.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

His voice hints at encouragement, shifting you into a more domineering mood. Your cherry lips twist into an undaunted grin as you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

You crawled up and on to straddle his lap, making his breath hitch at the intimate contact. With your palms planted next to his head, you shot him a wicked ruby smile before leaning down to place your lips on his own. The kiss is quick to build back up whatever arousal he had lost on the way here, helped by the way your hips started ever so slowly to grind down. You’re in a perfect position to have your clothed center on top of his concealed cock, each ounce of friction awakening it.

Moans started to fill the dim room with each second that passed. Seungcheol found himself hesitating to lay his hands on you, too used to having them on another body instead. But then his brain was quick to remind him that there was no need to hold back.

And so he rested his palms on your waist, playing it safe for now.

But you didn’t let him remain stationary for long, breaking the kiss to place your hands on top of his and whisper, “Don’t be shy.”

The encouragement was a helpful trigger, fingers roaming your body as soon as you let go. He carefully ran them up and down the curves of your waist before taking a chance and moving them to the front and upwards. A quick glance was given to your face as he went and cupped your covered breasts, biting his lip at the soft sound you made. Giving a light squeeze earned him a louder noise and a roll of your hips.

“Knew your hands would feel nice…”

Your husky whisper only spurred him on, sliding one of his hands back down and around to give your bottom the same attention.

“Did you?”

“Mhm—” A firmer grope interrupted your sentence. “—kept staring while you were holding your beer.”

Seungcheol chuckled lightly at your admission, glad he wasn’t the only one fixating on mundane body parts. You allowed him to continue feeling your body, dipping down for an occasional kiss, only to halt him eventually. When his brows furrowed in confusion, your red lips curled as you moved down to sit on his thighs.

“I have to get my hands on you ASAP.”

There was no objection on his end as he removed his hands, letting them rest to the side as you got a feel of him. The heat of your skin penetrating his shirt brought a welcome warmth to his veins. He almost forgot what it felt like to be touched by another, feeling like it had been way too long. Before the relationship ended, he had gone a few weeks without being intimate. Only now was he realizing how badly he needed this.

You ventured downwards, nudging the hem of his tee up until a sliver of stomach and his belt buckle showed. A tap above his waistband brought his eyes to yours.

“You still sure about this?”

Seungcheol blinked at you checking in, not expecting it. But it was much appreciated, even though his answer was still—

“Yeah.”

That was all you needed to continue, smirking as you started to work on loosening the belt. It didn’t take long for you to get through to undo his fly, making his heart pound hard enough to rupture his eardrums nearly. It takes a good amount of self-control for Seungcheol not to jump when your hand slips into his underwear. And it takes even more for him to stay steady when fingers wrap around his cock.

“Can barely wrap my hand around you.”

Your hushed observation made him twitch in your grasp, pulling in his lower lip when you slipped his length out. You released him to spit into your palm, replacing your hold before beginning to stroke slowly. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came out. Soon enough, soft grunts left his mouth.

“Are you distracted now?”

Seungcheol licked his lips and hummed, “Yes, very distracted.”

The giggle you gave preceded your mouth, leaning up to start giving him kisses again, multitasking efficiently. When you seemed to get your fill of his tongue, you parted and crawled down his body until you were face to face with his fully stiff dick. It couldn’t help but give a jerk at the devious smirk you shot him.

“May I?”

Fuck if he would say no.

“Go ahead.”

His backing spurred you into action, giving his cock a kiss at the base before using your tongue to run alongside every inch. The sigh that left Seungcheol carried so much behind it. The weight from the last few weeks and tonight escaped as you lap him up with attention that he didn’t realize he was missing until now. There was never a dull moment with your mouth, making his hips buck occasionally and quiet groans fill the room.

He managed to keep most of himself under control until you took him past your lips, forcing his fingers to dig into whoever’s comforter was underneath. The tight heat and wetness around his dick eventually made his digits come up to weave into your hair, giving you a bit of guidance. You didn’t seem to mind as a moan vibrated, sending a shiver down his spine.

Seungcheol forgot about whatever was happening outside of this bedroom for a while. He couldn't care less that there was a party going on downstairs and at least one of his friends might be looking for him. They dragged him here; the least they could do was let him have some fun of his own.

But the best part was that his ex-girlfriend didn’t pass through his mind once.

A sharp and familiar pang soon came in his groin, forcing him to choke out, “Y/N, Y/N, I’m so close—”

You looked up at his warning before pulling off with a popping sound to ask, “You wanna come in my mouth?”

The offer made his jaw drop and his cock twitch hard, swallowing down his shock in order to answer you.

“I— Up to you.”

A knowing expression washed over your face, smeared cherry lips quirking.

“Judging by your reaction, I’ll take it as a yes. Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

You swiftly returned to your previous position, letting a hand join in stroking what was still out this time. Seungcheol didn’t even get a second to process what you said before you continued pleasuring him, jumbling his brain as he got closer and closer to the end. It didn’t take long for his entire body to tense up, swearing out loud while he spilled into your mouth. His vision was spotty as he orgasmed, only clearing up when he went limp on the bed, panting hard.

Damn.

You definitely came through on your promise of distraction.

When he was finally back on Earth, you sat up, giving him a curious look.

“Did that help?”

Seungcheol lifted his head from the bed, chuckling breathlessly at your question.

“Fuck yes.”

A giggle that contradicted what you were previously doing to him escaped, your body wiggling side to side a bit.

“Good! I hate to disappoint.”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

Your chest puffed out in triumph, looking like you were ready to receive a gold star for your hard work. At this point, you should have split up and returned to your respective groups. But Seungcheol found his instinct to return the favor rising to the surface.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

Forcing himself to sit up and look you in your eyes, he licked his lips before asking, “Do you…need me to help you out?”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“You…how?”

He’s already come this far; he might as well lay all the chips down.

“I could eat you out.”

How your hand flew up to land over your mouth had him wonder if he overstepped his boundaries. Maybe you just wanted to give him his and get out.

“I…I mean, you don’t have to. We could just end it here…”

Hearing you trail off with uncertainty only pushed Seungcheol further. The need to have his mouth on somewhere other than your lips was blazing in his veins. He just missed pleasuring another.

With his bottom lip pushed out and his dark eyes looking up in a specific way, he made a final plea for his case.

“Just…consider it part of the distraction. Please?”

Yes, Choi Seungcheol was nearly begging to eat a stranger’s pussy.

But much to his relief, the light laugh you gave lacked mocking. No longer hiding your mouth, you smiled coyly and cooed, “Well, if you’re insisting…”

Perking up at your approval, he took hold of your jaw with both hands, giving you a long peck. He could feel you giggling during it, becoming louder when he pulled off to take a firm hold of your hips. You weren’t given a second to ask where to move before he lifted and practically manhandled you onto your back. The look you directed up at him was filled with surprise and a hazy lust.

“So strong.”

Seungcheol smirked at your dreamy tone, waiting for your legs to spread before sitting between them. He wasted little time in reaching for the hem of your dress, languidly rolling it up until he got a clear view of your panties.

And the large wet spot in the middle of it.

“Shit.”

You wiggled your hips at his gruff swear, teasing, “Don’t be so surprised.”

He raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you like this.”

Whatever mischief that would paint your words evaporated when you felt his knuckles run up and down your clothed center.

“A gentleman, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol grunted after seeing the spot grow larger, “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer, he maneuvered down to rest his head between your thighs. Even though he wanted to go straight to business, you deserved a little build-up as well. So Seungcheol planted soft kisses on your inner thighs, trailing up until his nose nearly brushed against you. He sped things up only when a whine of impatience came from above.

Reaching up to hook a finger under the fabric, he pulled it to the side and let it rest as he saw your dripping folds for a moment. But then he was quick to lean in and get to work.

He started off light at first, using the tip of his tongue to see what tickled your fancy. Soft hums left your mouth as your lover for the night, exploring every inch of skin. Seungcheol remained content with the gentle sounds until the need to hear more came over, pushing him to apply a little more pressure to make you louder.

“Mnh—”

“Doing alright up there?”

You hummed pleasantly, “Just wonderful. Keep it up.”

Seungcheol chuckled at your reply, using your encouragement to fuel his actions. He got a little more creative with his mouth, especially when it came to your clit. Closing his lips around it and sucking gently brought a stronger reaction out of you this time. He could feel a hand come down onto the back of his head before fingers buried into his dark locks.

“Right there, baby—”

A short groan vibrated against you from that. He made sure not to let up on what you wanted, finding that he had to use one of his arms to hold down your twitching hips at one point. He was starting to think that you had a thing for muscular guys, judging by your earlier reaction from being flipped over and how you giggled breathlessly from his recent move.

He continued to indulge in the taste of you until he felt the lightest of tugs on his hair. Pulling off with a pop, Seungcheol raised a thick brow.

“You good?”

“Uh huh, but—“ Your tongue ran along your bottom red lip. “—you mind doing me a favor?”

His eyes squinted playfully. “As long as it doesn’t involve feet or anything extreme, no.”

A laugh sounded while you released his strands and tapped his forehead.

“Dork. I want your fingers in me. That too extreme for you?”

The pang that hit his stomach influenced him to shake his head no.

“Good.”

Now you patted him, laying back and relaxing as you waited for him to follow through on his promise. Seungcheol used his free hand to sneak under his chin and pressed the tip of his index finger between your folds. Once he found your entrance, a glance into your eyes was given, receiving a nod in return. He began sliding inside, biting his lip at how you seemed to suck him in. You were wet enough that there was little resistance, making an obscene sound that brought a tingle down his spine.

Starting to thrust moderately, your louder moans filled the dim room. Seungcheol had to apply more pressure with the arm on your hips, nearly being thrown off by a strong buck. He got distracted by watching how you reacted to the friction. But then he remembered how much you also enjoyed his mouth and bent down to get back to work.

You were gracious enough to let him get his fill of you, so he wanted to ensure you got your distraction as well.

“S-Seungcheol—”

He didn’t know how much time had passed before your strangled call of his name cut into the fog, releasing your pulsating bud from his wet lips to rasp, “What’s wrong?”

Your hand darted down to press his mouth back against it, whimpering, “Don’t stop, gonna come—”

You didn’t need to say anymore.

Seungcheol continued licking and sucking, just the way you liked, ignoring how his jaw and finger started cramping up. Thankfully, it didn’t take that long to feel you clamp down tight, crying out as your thighs trembled next to his head. He kept the same pace, waiting until you pushed at his head to prevent overstimulation. Once the trembling of your body died down, he slipped his digit out and sat up, giving your hip a careful rub. The touch brought your attention down from the ceiling to him, eyes hazy with bliss and wonder.

An expression that brought the cheekiest of grins to his face.

“How was that?”

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to figure your words out.

“She’s missing out.”

It took a moment for Seungcheol to process what you said, but he laughed once he did, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“She is, isn’t she?”

The two of you shared another laugh before he felt his back pocket vibrate. Blinking, he reached in and slipped out his phone, frowning at the message on the screen.

[Wonu]: where’d you go??? We’re leaving soon

“Friends looking for you?”

Seungcheol looked up, nodding.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re about to head out.”

A sigh left your lips, sitting up to give him a cherry-colored pout.

“Darn. I was having so much fun with you.”

His ears reddened at your complaint, grinning bashfully.

“Same.”

Tapping your foot against his thigh, you hurried back to adjust your clothing, leaving him to respond to Wonwoo’s text.

[Cheol]: my bad, hanging out with someone

[Cheol]: be down in a few minutes

When he received a thumbs up, Seungcheol followed suit, standing up to tuck himself back in and smooth out any wrinkles on his shirt. He didn’t want to be super obvious when he left the bedroom. Just as he finished, he turned to find you standing and facing him, looking up with scrutinizing eyes.

“Hey…what’s up?”

“You might wanna, uh—”

You pointed to his mouth, making him look in the nearby mirror to see what was happening. His eyes widened at the red smeared over and around his swollen lips. Clicking his tongue, he grabbed a tissue, wiped it off as best as possible and turned towards you afterward.

“Better?”

A thumbs up was given. “Much. As much as I like my lipstick on you, I don’t think you want everyone to know what you’ve been up to.”

Seungcheol’s mouth popped open. You complimented yet called him out simultaneously. A woman after his heart.

But you brought him back to Earth with a pat on his shoulder, reminding him, “Come on, don’t keep your friends waiting.”

Closing his mouth, he nodded in agreement.

“Right…thank you, Y/N, for, you know, distracting me. It helped. A lot.”

While not as red as before, your lips shone with vibrancy as they curled upwards.

“Of course, you looked like you needed it. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

“Not a problem.”

Another vibration in his pocket urged Seungcheol to hurry downstairs before getting stranded. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it. Just as he stepped over the threshold, he looked back to see you watching him with an unreadable expression.

But it vanished when you caught him staring, brows knitting as you lightheartedly shooed him away.

Whatever that was was left behind as he shut the door behind him.

Seungcheol knew with every fiber of his being that his group would be in or lounging in the car, ready to leave any second. Patience was never their strong suit.

He could already spot a casualty or two as he walked across the lawn. Chan was laid across the hood of the vehicle while Seungkwan’s mouth ran off at Wonwoo, face flushed to all hell. He seemed to approach at the right time, the latter looking relieved as he pushed himself off from leaning against the door.

“There you are! We thought you walked home or something.”

Joshua’s voice could be heard calling out from inside, “Yeah man, where have you been?”

Seungcheol shrugged, hands buried into his pockets.

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

He looked Wonwoo dead in his eyes, trying to telepathize what he had been up to.

“Stuff.”

His close friend seemed to understand after a moment, brows lifting in surprise while his mouth twisted upwards.

“Doing stuff or someone?”

But there was little chance of keeping it between them when Seungkwan obnoxiously challenged him.

“I was just hanging out with them. You told me I needed to be distracted tonight, yeah?”

Joshua was busy setting up his GPS to tune in and Chan was fighting slumber, leaving Wonwoo and Seungkwan to make noises of wonder at the reveal.

“We did. Good job, hyung.”

Seungcheol smirked at his approval, still riding the high of the encounter.

“What? Choi Seungcheol having a one-night stand?” Seungkwan stumbled forward to rest a hand on his elder’s forehead. “You feelin’ okay? Too much to drink?”

The smile dropped and formed into a scowl as he got his hand smacked away.

“Fuck off, look who’s talking. Get your drunk ass in the car.”

A petulant whine left the younger as he turned to fumble with the door. Joshua honked the horn, sticking his head out the driver’s window to yell at Chan to move and get in. It did little to faze the youngest, mumbling something akin to ‘five more minutes.’ Seungcheol and Wonwoo worked on removing him from the hood and into the backseat to lean on a singing Seungkwan. The latter climbed in next to them, leaving the oldest to get ready to slide in the passenger seat.

“Seungcheol!”

But then a voice called out before footsteps thudded in the grass behind him.

Thick brows furrowed as he turned to gape in shock as he saw you running over. You stopped directly before him, catching your breath for a moment.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t think I’d catch you. I wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol had no clue what this something could be. He was still trying to wrap his head around running into you again. This wasn’t how one-night stands were supposed to go…right?

But when you opened a closed fist to reveal a piece of folded paper, his brain ran ahead of itself and wondered whether this was going to go the opposite direction.

Seungcheol blinked rapidly, peeking at your face to see you giving him an expectant look. He took the paper and quickly unfolded it, jaw dropping at what was scribbled down. He couldn’t help but dart back and forth between it and you, the mischievous grin letting him know that this wasn’t a joke.

“In case you need more distraction.”

With a wink, you turned around, the skirt of your dress flipping and swishing as you walked back towards the house with a sway in your hips. He continued to gawk at your retreating form, only brought out of his reverie by the whooping of his friends and Joshua’s incessant honking. Spinning around to chew out the driver for making a commotion, Seungcheol swiftly got in, buckling himself before the group hit the road.

Of course, the ride was filled with interrogation, intermingled with Seungkwan’s singing and Dino’s freestyling. But he didn’t mind, feeling a burst of confidence every time the paper scratched the palm of his hand.

Maybe coming out to this party wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[tomhorsery]

Could you also do nat relationship headcanons after they were rescued but you were there too in the plane crash and wilderness

Natalie Scatorccio headcanons

Natalie Scatorccio x Female! Reader

Warnings: minor nsfw, drugs.

Content under the cut -

—————————————————————————

• After she was rescued, she had you over at her trailer often. She felt like her only way to cope with what happened was sex, and weed.

• She acts like she’s fine. Like nothing happened. But pretty much everyone can tell that she’s hurting.

• She is horrible at taking care of herself. Her entire room is littered with empty alcohol bottles and takeout boxes.

• She isn’t even able to get out of bed most days. She seems listless and disinterested in everything around her. It’s depressing.

• Eventually, after months of this, she started to become distant. She stopped talking to you. Stopped smiling and laughing. Stopped making jokes, and stopped inviting you over.

• You tried to visit, but she never answered the door. You always seemed to be the one who was pushed away by what had happened, not her.

• It broke your heart when she began to ignore you.

• This went on for months and months, u til randomly, one night, there was a knock on your door. You opened it, ready to tell whoever it was to fuck off and leave you alone, when you saw who it was.

• It was Natalie. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, which was strange because she never cried in public. She looked tired. Not physically tired – but emotionally exhausted.

• So stupidly, you invited her into your house. “Do you want anything to drink? I can go run and get you some water.”

• You didn’t know how long she wanted to stay. But at this point you didn’t seem to care either way.

• That night, she slept curled up against you, as if clinging onto your warmth could keep her safe from the terrible things that had happened to her.

• The next day, she was gone. As though she had never been there.

• After that, she randomly stopped by your house just to hook up then fall asleep. This didn’t feel like love anymore. It felt like you were trying to console her, to make her feel better and less lonely. You weren’t sure if it was working or not, but it was something.

• The thing is, you never got to cope yourself. You immediately had to go back into the work force to buy more shit for Natalie to help her feel better.

• Why did you do it? Because deep down, you thought you would end up alone too.

• At night you would have deep talks with Natalie about what happened out in the wilderness. About all the shit she had to deal with. The shit she still dealt with. About how scared she was of being abandoned, left behind. You helped her cope.

• She opened up about feeling numb recently

. How she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about how she hated what they had to do to survive.

• You agreed. You hated it, too. You said you understood, that she wasn’t alone. You would never let her be alone ever again.

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Yellowjackets requests: OPEN!

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[squarebracketsmileyface]

Toxic jaylex incoming 💀

I've been on a drawing kick recently, so had no motivation to write. but i finished a 27 hour drawing yesterday so i needed a change, so If It Ain't Broken is being written while listening to Mika songs. Honestly theres a couple songs my him that actually really fit with Sorry It's Locked. Like, good wife? Ring Ring? Happy Ending? they feel pretty S,IL to me (ignoring how funky and fun and upbeat they are, but the lyrics work pretty well)

Anyway, my boyfriend says Jay's a cunt and that he needs to get slapped slapped for this which, yeah, yeah he does. That man's gonna end up beaten black and blue 💀

Alex: tries to be nice and check in because Jay's been acting off nearly the entire time he's been here

Jay: no fuck you I'm gonna throw this awful thing i did to you in your face to make you angry so you stop trying to make sure im comfortable, because you being nice makes me more uncomfortable, even though i keep complaining to myself about how i wish youd be nicer to me

god they're such a fucking mess i hate them

[gimmethatagustd]

love song (2) | kth + pjm

After a surprise collaboration that shocked their fans, broke records, and earned them a Grammy, salacious rapper V and sweetheart idol Jimin are the duo the music industry didn’t know it needed but now can’t live without. Fans just have one burning question: Are V and Jimin dating?

○ Pairing: Rapper!Taehyung x Idol!Jimin

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: A/B/O, idols/musicians (not canon/BTS), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, smut, fluff, light angst

○ Word Count: 9,579

○ Warnings: Very sexual language, scenting, technically non-consensual kissing (TH doesn't ask for permission, but he picks up the ✨ vibes ✨ )

○ Notes: Shout out to the lovely anons and moots who sent me their horny thoughts to use as the thirst tweets in this chapter. Idk what I would do without y'all. 🤭 If you want an ✨ immersive ✨ experience, I recommend watching Jackson Wang’s BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets episode to get a feel for Taehyung’s vibe during the scene, and DPR IAN’s for Jimin’s vibe. Also, I acknowledge the current strike for Palestine until June 22. Based on what I've seen, the strike is specifically for Twitter, but I wanted to do my part on Tumblr by bringing attention to it. You can learn more here.

○ Post Date: June 18, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

The morning sun casts bright flickers of pale orange light across the dance studio’s hardwood floor. Jimin’s bare feet chase the light streaks and dots as they stomp and twist, carrying his body along the length of the room. He told his entertainment company he wouldn’t re-sign his contract as a solo artist if they didn’t give him a dance studio with natural lighting. So many studios at the company’s headquarters are windowless — soulless if you ask Jimin. The K-pop industry can feel like a prison sometimes; Jimin doesn’t want his dance studio to feel the same.

Today, Jimin is thankful for the natural lighting for another reason.

"I think I've finally got it down," Taehyung says, running his hand through his sweaty bangs. 

His hair falls limply over his forehead as he drops his arm and gazes at his reflection in the mirrored studio wall. His dark brown eyes glow amber in the sunlight, and Jimin swears he sees little sparkles dancing in them.

“Sort of,” Hoseok stands beside Taehyung with his hands on his hips and a deep frown that would make even the most confident dancer anxious. “I’m honestly shocked at how well you’ve memorized the movements, but you’re still stiff. You need to loosen up a bit.”

Unphased by Hoseok’s critical stare, Taehyung pushes up the short sleeve of his t-shirt to expose more of his bicep as he flexes in the mirror. The veins in the back of his hand and up his forearm pop with each flex of his muscles. He’s pink in the cheeks, and his white shirt is soaked with sweat, making the fabric cling to his defined chest. 

As an alpha, Taehyung's frame is naturally larger than Jimin and Hoseok’s, particularly with how broad his shoulders and chest are. His recent obsession with weightlifting has only exacerbated that. 

Not that Jimin has noticed or anything. He certainly hasn’t been paying attention to Taehyung’s physique; there’s no reason for him to.

“Taehyung,” Hoseok scolds, his floral omega scent spiking with a charcoal bitterness, “Pay attention.”

“Gimme a break, alright? I’m sweating my fucking ass off.”

“I thought you said dancing would be easy?” Jimin grins, catching Taehyung’s eye through the mirror.

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung stalks off toward the dance studio’s exit, where the trio has left their bags. When Taehyung pulls a water bottle from his backpack, Hoseok pauses the music playing through the studio speakers.

“Let’s take a break?” Hoseok adjusts the headband that keeps his silver hair out of his face and gives Jimin and Taehyung a hard stare.

"I'm fine," Taehyung insists after clearing his throat, yet he flops on the floor anyway.

Taehyung sits with his legs spread, the loose fabric of his basketball shorts riding up his thighs, which are muscular in an effortless alpha way Jimin has to work hard to accomplish for himself as an omega. He doesn't break eye contact with Jimin through the mirror when he sips his water bottle, and his throat bobs when he swallows. 

Averting his eyes, Jimin focuses on his own reflection.

"You were actually doing pretty well. Hyung is right, though. The main problem truly is that you’re stiff. You’re not letting the music guide you," Jimin says.  

"I know," Taehyung groans, tilting his head back. Jimin notices the V of his jawline and shoves the thought aside. "I keep fucking overthinking it." 

"That's the thing about dancing. You have to get to the point where you can turn your brain off." 

"My brain is always turned off, Chim." 

Jimin catches Taehyung's cheeky grin in his peripheral vision. Rolling his eyes, he tries to twist his body so he can't see Taehyung through the mirror anymore. 

"You're annoying." 

"I know." 

Taehyung is smug as he takes another sip of water, eyes crinkled and cheeks full. Like little dumplings or loaves of bread, Taehyung is sometimes a squishy kind of cute.

Or maybe Jimin is merely hungry.

Hoseok snorts and bends to stretch his legs, letting his arms hang and his knuckles graze the floor.

“I don’t know what kind of mating ritual you guys are doing, but can you shut up?” Hoseok’s voice is muffled by gravity pulling his t-shirt forward into his face as he stretches, “We’ve got, like, no time to dick around.”

"Don't be ridiculous," Jimin says in a flustered rush. 

Jimin struggles to wrap his fingers around Hoseok's phone, desperately trying to restart the music. His hands are clammy from sweat, not nerves, of course.

Hoseok scoffs, his frown contrasting with Taehyung’s cheeky smile. 

“It’s the two of you being ridiculous.” 

“You’re so grumpy today,” Taehyung follows with a silent, toothy laugh when Hoseok sticks his tongue out at him. 

“I’m tired of teaching children.” 

Something twists in the pit of Jimin’s stomach, and tendrils wiggle into his limbs, making them shaky. It gets worse when Taehyung eyes him through the mirror again. Mating rituals are outdated these days, mainly something older people reminisce about, but the way Taehyung looks at him as he passes his water bottle for Jimin to drink from feels like the part of courting meant to prove one’s proficiency at being a caregiver. 

Jimin presses his lips to the bottle’s rim, molding them right where Taehyung’s lips had been.

He’s pretty sure he’s going insane. 

It’s nearly lunchtime when Hoseok leaves. He’s preparing for his own solo comeback and has limited time to train his children. Despite the loving insult, Jimin is appreciative of his friend’s support. Hoseok is his day one, the first friend he made back in his rookie days when he was just a little kid from Busan, with a thick accent and something to prove. 

His satoori is still there sometimes when he’s angry or sleepy. Still, despite being an omega, he doesn’t feel the pressure to be someone he isn’t anymore just to establish himself as a successful artist in the music industry. Whatever that means. 

Now, Jimin can pirouette circles around these big-name alphas in the music industry, drunk, with his eyes closed, and still look pretty doing it. 

“What argument are you winning right now?” 

Blinking, Jimin meets Taehyung’s eyes in the mirror. He’s on the floor again, this time scrolling through his phone. Without Hoseok here to scold him, Taehyung becomes easily distracted. 

“What?” Jimin scrunches his eyebrows, and Taehyung grins. 

“You’ve got that look on your face when you’re bitching someone out inside your head. What did I do wrong this time?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Can you get up and practice?” 

Taehyung may need a break, but Jimin doesn't. He watches his form in the mirror as he continues dancing, effortlessly falling back into place as the music playing through the studio speakers guides his body.

Unlike the music videos for dreamscape and other K-pop groups, the “Hurt So Good” music video doesn’t heavily focus on dancing. Most of the dancing will involve Jimin and Taehyung mirroring each other’s movements, with only a few short sections requiring them to dance together. Still, it’s enough for Jimin to recruit Hoseok to help train Taehyung.

Hardly any choreography can trip Jimin up. With muscular thighs that pull at his sweatpants and a toned stomach that peeks out with each movement of his arms, Jimin feels powerful when he dances. He has had dance practice nearly every day for the past ten years. Those ten years have given Jimin an enviable level of poise, each movement fluid but still striking, like the slither of a snake. 

He shouldn't falter, yet he finds faults in his form now that he hadn't the day before when he reviewed the dance with his personal choreographer one-on-one. 

The mirrored wall makes it nearly impossible to avoid catching Taehyung in Jimin's sightline. Despite his expert focus, Jimin's skin prickles with the warmth of Taehyung's gaze burning into him. He's grateful for the air conditioning blasting cold hair hard enough to occasionally ruffle his hair when he dances underneath the vent. Hopefully, any errant changes in his vanilla scent are quickly swept away.

It's strange; Jimin is accustomed to being observed. He wonders if the remnants of his heat are raising his temperature, though it has been nearly a week since it ended.

“You’re so good,” Taehyung comments, his voice low enough that Jimin almost doesn’t hear him over the music. 

Ignoring the spike of heat Taehyung’s words ignite in the pit of his stomach, Jimin ends the song and sits on the floor. He spreads his legs and reaches for his toes in a loose stretch. 

“I’d hope so, considering how long I’ve been doing this.” 

“Just take the fucking compliment,” Taehyung demands, but he’s smiling as he stands up. 

The yin to Jimin’s yang, Taehyung goes high when Jimin goes low. He saunters to the other side of the dance studio to inspect a small canvas bag resting against the wall. 

“What’s this?” Taehyung asks, and Jimin can’t help but giggle. Taehyung looks over his shoulder at the sound, still grinning. “Park Jimin.”

“What!”

“You–” Taehyung interrupts himself by biting his bottom lip. The slow shake of his head fills Jimin with that familiar feeling of humiliation that makes the back of his neck prickle. 

“Me?” Jimin doesn’t understand why he’s breathless as Taehyung picks up the canvas bag to peer inside. 

“Oh, why didn’t we play with these?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow as he pulls out multiple metal chains from the bag. 

Hot in the face, Jimin straightens from hunching over his phone, reviewing the videos he took of their practice session, and sets it down.

"I don't really know how I feel about using the chains as props…" Jimin says quietly. 

"What do you mean?"

Taehyung remains on the opposite side of the dance studio. He wraps a long chain around both hands and tugs it, experimenting with the weight and movement when he swings it from side to side.

"It's… a lot. It's giving BDSM vibes."

Taehyung snorts. "Chim, the song is very clearly about BDSM. You have a verse about wanting to be tied down."

"By love! Besides, Namjoon hyung said we can't film anything explicitly about the song's content," Jimin huffs, turning his torso away from Taehyung to lift the bottom of his shirt and use it to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

Unfortunately, Taehyung is correct. Namjoon has planned the scenes to skirt the song's topic artfully, dancing the line between artistic and risque. 

Jimin thinks it's fair that he's hesitant. Never before has he let someone wrap chains around his body. Though, it feels fitting that Taehyung will do it. Probably because Taehyung is annoying, and who else would ensnare Jimin but the little devil himself?

If Taehyung senses the anxious spike in Jimin's vanilla scent, he doesn't comment on it. He remains steady as well, his driftwood and bourbon scent hardly present. He’s quiet for a moment as he plays with the chains.

"It's just a song, Chim," Taehyung eventually says, his dark eyes flitting up to stare at Jimin across the room. "It's not like we're fucking."

"Well, I mean, obviously. That's not what I meant," Jimin stumbles through his words. He squeezes his phone and accidentally turns the video's volume up all the way.

Taehyung laughs, light and airy as usual, despite being exhausted and covered in sweat from hours of dancing.

"It's not a standard metal chain," Taehyung comments offhandedly, looping it over his shoulders and around his neck. "I don't know what material… It's something lighter. I bet they made it so you wouldn't smack yourself in the face with it."

"Me? What about you?"

Taehyung shrugs and pulls the chain off, letting it run along his neck until it falls limp in his hands. "I know how to use chains properly."

Jimin doesn't know what to say to that, so he ignores Taehyung and returns to their dance practice video on his phone. Whatever Taehyung is trying to joke about, Jimin doesn't understand, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to. What would Taehyung even need chains for?

Apparently, in a particularly annoying mood, Taehyung is giving Jimin very few moments of peace today. Jimin feels the hairs on his arms raise as Taehyung circles behind him and leans down to nuzzle his face in the fluffy strands of hair that aren’t tied up in a ponytail.

“You smell nice when you’re embarrassed,” Taehyung’s voice is muffled, but Jimin hears him too well. 

Mortified, Jimin grows rigid beneath Taehyung’s gentle touch. It isn’t fair how vulnerable he is. He hates how easily others can read him since he can’t take suppressants to weaken his scent and the other telltale signs of his omega status. 

Taehyung is lucky to be on suppressants; his emotions are neatly hidden behind a controlled, stoic face. His driftwood and bourbon scent is still there, but it’s muted and easily masked by cologne. Sometimes, Jimin can’t sense Taehyung’s emotions just from scent alone. Jimin has had to learn the quirks of Taehyung’s body language, like how Taehyung's eyes grow wide and he does this strange little wiggle of his head when he’s trying to get something he wants, or how Taehyung plays with his fingers when he’s about to fall into ADHD-induced mind drifting during meetings.

In two years, Jimin thinks he’s done a damn good job of learning what makes Taehyung, Taehyung. This is why a shudder ripples through his body when Taehyung noses the curve of his ear and inhales deeply. 

“What’re you doing?” Jimin jerks away and twists around to narrow his eyes at Taehyung. 

Blank-faced and wide-eyed, Taehyung stares at Jimin like he’s waiting for him to answer his own question. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Taehyung asks when Jimin doesn’t say anything more. 

“Yes, please…” 

Unusually self-conscious, Jimin smooths down the back of his head while he watches Taehyung slip his backpack over one broad shoulder. His chest tightens when Taehyung reaches for his backpack, slipping it over his other shoulder. Taehyung looks ridiculous with both backpacks slung over his shoulders, but a sense of endearment warms Jimin’s cheeks when Taehyung lifts his chin in a nod toward the dance studio’s exit. 

The backpacks aren’t heavy. Why is Jimin blushing like Taehyung is demonstrating some impressive alpha feat? 

Resisting the ridiculous urge to slap himself, Jimin exhales slowly as he stands. 

“Wait, we should take a selca before we go,” Taehyung suggests once Jimin is at his side, “For the dreamers.” 

“Won’t your fans care, too?” Jimin doesn’t know why he feels defensive all of a sudden. Perhaps it’s because Taehyung’s cheeks are still dusted a light rose pink against his tan skin, and Jimin can’t pull his gaze away from them. 

“My fans complain about you in the comments because they’re all horny and hate when I even look in another celebrity’s direction,” Taehyung flicks the tip of Jimin’s chin, “But your fans love me.” 

Jimin lets out a strangled-sounding laugh. His fans do love Taehyung. They also think Jimin loves him, and not in a platonic soulmate way. 

Taehyung gives him an odd look. “Chim?”

“Let’s take a selca, yeah, that’s fun. That’ll be… cute. Sure!” 

Jimin pulls the hair tie from his ponytail, letting his hair loose so he can retie it after smoothing it out. His hair color has faded to a soft baby blue, akin more to a cloud than cotton candy but still complementary to his features. 

The selfie is cute despite their sweaty, bare-faced visuals. Taehyung is gorgeous regardless of the circumstances, and Jimin’s puffy cheeks give him a cherub look when his skin isn’t plastered with makeup. Visually, he and Taehyung complement each other just as well as they complement each other’s personalities and workstyles. 

Taehyung, the photographer; Jimin, the captionmaker. 

“Working out is a necessary pain,” Jimin workshops a few ideas out loud with Taehyung resting his chin on his shoulder to peer down at the Instagram post, “Or maybe only emojis. Or, midday vibe?” 

“Midnight Ride,” Taehyung smirks with a deep exhale sounding like a dark chuckle punctuating his comment. “Spoilers. You’re such an idol.”

“I’m not spoiling anything,” Jimin pouts because he’s not. They’re just little hints, little Easter eggs, in a way. Taehyung wouldn’t understand. “You’re the one who spoiled the entire album to begin with!” 

Letting out another breathy exhale that makes Jimin feel like he’s being mocked, Taehyung straightens his posture to readjust the backpacks. “Your fans will come up with plenty of conspiracy theories within five seconds of you posting that.” 

Like in our supposed love life, Jimin fills in the blanks and wonders if Taehyung has intentionally left them out of their conversation. 

Jimin flips off the lights when he passes through the exit doors and hopes he doesn’t have to spend the drive home with the smell of his embarrassment saturating Taehyung’s car–no matter how nice Taehyung finds it. 

By the time they shoot the Buzzfeed episode a few days later, Jimin’s anxiety morphs into an uncontrollable giddiness that gets on everyone’s nerves. Even Taehyung gives him a sideways look as they walk down the hall of some nondescript corporate building in downtown Seoul, where BuzzFeed's South Korean branch operates. A sweet female alpha leads them through the building and entertains Jimin’s nervous babbling with an unbreakable smile. 

“My name is Yoonhee,” she introduces herself, waiting for Jimin and Taehyung to exit the elevator and lead them down a winding hall. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Taehyung’s voice is deep and smooth; he has already slipped into the celebrity persona he wears so well. 

Taehyung’s tone makes Jimin shiver, and it doesn’t help that Taehyung isn’t wearing scent blockers today. He smells good, almost too good, especially as he walks beside Yoonhee, and their alpha scents blend well together, hers equally earthy. It’s annoying, even though it has no reason to be.

“This is your first time doing a skit with us?” Yoonhee asks once they’ve reached a lone black door with a light above it, indicating whether anyone is using the recording studio inside.

Taehyung isn’t paying attention anymore, so Jimin does his best to take the lead. “Yup! I’m really excited!” 

His voice is too loud, echoing in the recording room, which is a soothing lavender that makes him smile because it reminds him of dreamscape. Two chairs are in the middle of the room near a bunch of professional camera equipment. The BuzzFeed employees tending to the equipment give Taehyung and Jimin small bows. 

“Well, we’re all happy to have you,” Yoonhee says with a smile. “Your managers spoke to you about the segment being in English, correct?” 

Taehyung looks to Jimin, avoiding Yoonhee’s gaze. 

“Yes, but can you please edit the final video to add translations for Taehyung?” Jimin asks, noticing Taehyung’s scent grow bitter in the back of his throat. “He can read English, but he’ll probably switch back for his commentary.” 

“That is no problem at all.” Yoonhee gives Taehyung a polite smile. 

She points at the chairs with the clipboard she’s holding, gesturing for them to sit down. “We’ll get started in a few minutes. If you need anything to drink, please let me know. We have water and some light alcoholic beverages.” 

“Soju?” Taehyung perks up at the mention of alcohol. 

Jimin can’t stop the nervous giggle that escapes him when Yoonhee returns with beer, though Taehyung seems pleased with any type of alcohol. 

“Maybe I should get some, too,” Jimin wonders aloud. 

Taehyung shakes his head after taking a sip from the glass bottle. “Yoonhee-ssi, can you get him some water?” 

Slumping in his chair, Jimin rolls his eyes as he always does when Taehyung makes decisions for him. It doesn’t happen often, but Jimin makes sure to express his disdain whenever it does. He’s pretty sure they both know that he’s being exceptionally dramatic. He secretly loves the doting, though he refuses to admit that, even to himself. 

It only takes a few minutes for the camera crew to finish getting ready. Jimin forces Taehyung to let him have at least a few sips of his beer to give him the false belief that he’ll receive any meaningful relief from the liquid courage. It isn’t that Jimin is concerned about filming the episode; like with dancing, he’s accustomed to being observed. Jimin is nervous about the possibility that the BuzzFeed staff have also seen what he and Hoseok have seen on Twitter — things Jimin desperately hopes Taehyung hasn’t seen. 

“Alright, are you guys ready?” Yoonhee asks.

Jimin gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and convinces himself that he is ready as the red recording light flips on, and the crew gives them the okay to start. 

"Hi, friends!" Jimin smiles wide at the camera and points at Taehyung, who sits in the chair beside him. "That's V!"

"And that's Jimin." 

Taehyung looks at Jimin rather than the camera when he points at him. His greeting is steady and smooth compared to Jimin's springy enthusiasm.

"And we're with BuzzFeed to read some thirst tweets!"

In front of their chairs are two small buckets: a blue one for Jimin and a red one for Taehyung. The buckets contain the tweets printed out by staff. Jimin can only imagine what kind of exciting things their fans have to say on Twitter, though he has a feeling Taehyung won't be as surprised as Jimin will be. Jimin doesn't make a habit of looking himself up on social media, but Taehyung likes to be nosy.

Jimin wiggles in his chair and holds the red bucket over his head, his nerves morphing into playful energy. When Taehyung snatches it away, he pouts.

"You're going to fall," Taehyung scolds. He looks to the staff standing behind the cameras and points at Jimin. "Can someone edit this later with how many times he falls out of his chair? Maybe add a counter at the top of the screen."

Annoyed by Taehyung's request and the staff's subsequent laughter, Jimin flicks the side of Taehyung's head as he boldly announces, "I won't fall at all."

"Sure, Jimin," Taehyung looks unconvinced, and rightfully so. Jimin has a habit of throwing himself onto the floor, legs flying in the air. "Alright, who goes first? Do I read mine, or do I read his?"

Yoonhee clarifies the episode's agenda: "You'll read the tweets about Jimin, and he'll read yours. Take turns, though."

After giving the staff another thumbs-up, Jimin snatches the red bucket back and waits impatiently for Taehyung to grab the blue one. 

"I'm older; I go first.” Jimin mixes the papers around, getting a little dramatic with it. 

Considering how big of a deal Jimin’s appearance is on the show, he thinks he's allowed to have fun with it. He's the first idol to participate in BuzzFeed's Thirst Tweets series. There have been Korean rappers on the show but no K-pop idols. Jimin knows he's becoming a trailblazer and perhaps a trendsetter. Undoubtedly, other idols will follow his lead and accept offers from BuzzFeed to participate in mature content like this in the future.

Being on the show is thrilling, to say the least. It's also terrifying because Jimin knows that some fans (and antis) will hate him for this, but there will also be fans who will be more than enthusiastic about watching the episode. He's also somewhat nervous about the tweets themselves. After watching other celebrities' episodes, Jimin has gotten an idea of what fans have to say… and they're definitely comments unlike anything he's ever heard, even going beyond what Hoseok has shown him.

None of that is anything Jimin can worry about now that he's here and the cameras are rolling. He hopes the resolution isn't too high because he's already sweating under the bright lights. At least he’s wearing a black shirt. 

"Are you ready, V?" Jimin waggles his eyebrows.

"Honestly, I don't think you're ready, but let's go."

Clearing his throat, Jimin holds out the first slip of paper and reads, "Kim Taehyung's hands would be the perfect necklace… I'm just saying."

When the words leave his lips, Jimin feels regret slowly trickling through his veins. It was his understanding that the tweets would start off harmless and grow exponentially more explicit. Apparently, their episode will take a different approach…

"Hmm, a choker," Taehyung hums with an appreciative nod. 

"Taehyung!" Jimin's dangly earrings swing as he whips his head to the side to look at him.

"What? That's what they're talking about." Leaning in, Taehyung presses his palm to Jimin's throat and loosely curves his long fingers around it. The multiple gold rings adorning his fingers are cold against Jimin’s skin. "I see it."

"Go away!" Jimin sputters, pushing Taehyung's arm from him. 

Heat blooms across Jimin’s face, and his stomach turns and dips, a rollercoaster of sensations tumbling through him. He fights the urge to touch his throat where Taehyung had, where his heart frantically pulses. He can smell his scent spike with something sweeter than his usual vanilla. It's so sweet that his tongue and throat feel thick with it, to the point that it's almost unbearable. 

The room they're in is spacious to accommodate the set and camera crew, but Taehyung is sitting right next to Jimin, close enough that their knees bump into each other when they shift in their chairs. The crew might not notice the change in Jimin's scent yet, but there's no way Taehyung can't notice it from having his hand around Jimin’s throat.

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Taehyung plucks a slip of paper from the blue bucket. 

"Oh," Taehyung says with a smug smirk. The look on his face as he silently reads the tweet to himself makes Jimin's already nervous stomach twist into knots that sit heavily in his gut.

"Just read it," Jimin's command ends with a lilt, not a whine but something breathy that borders on distress. 

Taehyung stalls for a second longer as he chews his bottom lip between his front teeth. When Taehyung finally reads the tweet aloud, Jimin decides to murder Seokjin when they get home for letting them agree to be on the show.

"There are two kinds of people in this world: people who would sell their homes, kidneys, and souls to cum on Park Jimin's motherfucking lips, and liars."

For the record, Jimin isn’t as innocent as the K-pop industry tries to make its idols appear. He’s had sex, although not as much as the average guy, probably. It’s a little challenging to find the time and the right person. Most of the alphas Jimin has been with are also idols or other types of celebrities, people who understand nondisclosure agreements and have ones of their own. It’s too stressful to look for lust or love at tables other than the luxurious one he sits at. 

But never in Jimin’s life has he ever heard such words uttered in his direction. Although Jimin knows it’s just a tweet, that some stranger out there had delulu hours and wanted to express their love for Jimin in a… creative way, Jimin can’t move past the fact that Taehyung is saying it. Taehyung didn’t write it, but he’s saying it. Jimin is sitting here, watching Taehyung’s lips move, and he’s hearing Taehyung say he wants to cum on Jimin’s lips. 

Inhaling sharply, Jimin adverts his eyes. If he’s not looking at Taehyung, he’s looking at the camera. He’s not sure which is worse. 

The image of himself looking up at Taehyung while on his knees with parted lips slippery with cum, floods Jimin's mind. He swears he licks his lips in real life and tastes something sweet. 

It’s his lip balm, of course. That’s all. 

"I… don't know what to say," Jimin mumbles, already sweating through the armpits of his shirt. Starring in this episode is way worse than he expected, but there’s no way he’s going to let his perverted intrusive thoughts ruin everything.

“Thank you for the compliment, maybe,” Taehyung smirks as he crumples up the slip of paper and tosses it at Jimin. It bounces off the side of Jimin’s head, and some of the BuzzFeed staff giggle. “Now read another one of mine.” 

The tips of Jimin’s ears and the apples of his cheeks are on fire, but that isn’t an unusual reaction from more conservative or innocent celebrities featured on the show. Jimin is sure his fans will think he’s cute; they can all laugh about this later. What’s killing him is how strongly his scent wavers, spiking and dying out in fluctuations that follow the path of Taehyung’s eyes gliding from the little strips of paper to Jimin’s pink face. 

“Alright…” Jimin side-eyes the camera, only now realizing he has twisted his body so that he’s turned more toward Taehyung than the camera crew. He swallows and tries not to breathe too loudly into the little microphone clipped to his shirt. 

"Sometimes V’s voice be so deep I feel that shit tapping my cervix.”

As Jimin reads the tweet aloud, a reminder of the smooth, smoldering tone Taehyung uses with his fans during Weverse lives filters through his mind like hypnosis. Although the tweet isn’t anatomically relevant to Jimin, it deepens his embarrassment anyway.

“How the fuck are people so creative?” Taehyung asks with his hand out so Jimin can pass the paper to him for further inspection. “I wanna meet these people. We need to talk about some music content because there’s something interesting here. There’s good lyric potential.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Jimin rolls his eyes as he huffs.

Something about how Taehyung looks at him makes him feel like Taehyung isn’t falling for the little show he’s putting on. Jimin isn’t intentionally huffing and puffing to mask his embarrassment. He also doesn’t think it’s working, even if it was his intention. 

“This is lyricism, Jimin.” 

“It’s vulgar.” 

“Am I not vulgar?” Taehyung’s smile is sly, slippery, and slight. It’s sneaky enough to coax little sparks within the embers of the pit of Jimin’s stomach. 

“Just read another one, V.”

The segment runs longer than Jimin expects, though he knows most of the content won’t make the final cut. From what Jimin has seen, the videos uploaded to YouTube rarely last more than ten minutes. Whatever the editing process is, Jimin would like to be part of it. There’s no way he’s walking away from this experience without knowing what’s going into it.

“We only got two left, I’m pretty sure,” Taehyung says as he selects another slip of paper.

Jimin looks down at the final slip of paper in his bucket. What feels like hundreds of slips later, Jimin’s palms have left dark streaks on the thighs of his pants from how many times he has tried to nervously dry the sweat off them.

"This is another good one…” Taehyung’s smile is wicked. “I want Park Jimin to aggressively rail me. Like, you see how passionate he gets when he dances… Imagine him using that passion... elsewhere."

Sitting straight in his chair, Jimin looks past the camera lens to Yoonhee.

“Is this real? People actually posted these things?” Jimin rubs his hands on his thighs again, but his pants’ material is too smooth to fully dry the sweat from his palms. 

The crew laughs, a few of them reassuring Jimin that these are, in fact, very real. Taehyung’s laughter stands out among them; when doesn’t he stand out to Jimin?

“What, you don’t think people want you to fuck them?”

Jimin ignores Taehyung’s question. His eyes are too sparkly, and Jimin might be paranoid, but he thinks he notices Taehyung sniffing slightly, just a subtle inhale that feels different than a normal breath.

Jimin shifts in his seat so his knees point toward the camera crew.

“I can’t imagine sharing something like this on the internet, that’s all,” Jimin quickly looks into the camera with wide eyes, “I mean, not that it’s bad! I love that my fans are so supportive of me!” 

“Well…” Taehyung’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek when he pauses like he’s trying to decide if he should say what’s on his mind.

Jimin hopes Taehyung won’t, but two years is long enough to know that there is the thinnest of filters between Taehyung’s brain and mouth. 

“A confession like this would be more compelling if you were actually a top,” Taehyung’s smirk doesn’t falter as he speaks, even when Jimin shoves him hard enough to nearly topple Taehyung over. His chair tips to the side with enough momentum that he has to grab Jimin’s arm to stop himself from falling over.

“You can’t air this,” Jimin pleads with Yoonhee.

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung is correct about Jimin’s sexual preferences (of course he is; they’re best friends) or that society labels male omegas as bottoms anyway. Jimin would rather die than give the world permanent access to a clip of Taehyung calling him a bottom. 

It’s bad enough he has had to sit through dozens of statements from Taehyung that feel like sexual propositions. Jimin already feels like he’s going to explode. The least anyone can do is have mercy on him.

“We plan to run the footage past your managers before releasing the episode.” Yoonhee’s nostrils flex as she frowns and slowly shakes her head. "I can request that they share the file with you, too.”

“See, Chim. It’s just for fun.” The balled-up paper slip clinks against the wall of the bucket when Taehyung tosses it in. There’s only one slip left, and Jimin will read it for Taehyung.

“Alright, this is the last one,” Jimin says, uncaring that he isn’t performing well for the camera by speaking too softly. 

A quick scan before Jimin reads the tweet out loud, and he knows that out of all the tweets he has been forced to read, this one is bad enough that he can’t bring himself to look at the camera or Taehyung in the eyes while he reads it. He can barely force it out of his mouth.

“I cry myself to sleep at night knowing I'm punished to live a life where I…” Jimin trails off, interrupting himself by biting his bottom lip. He drags his teeth against the supple flesh and hopes his makeup is covering even the slightest pink undertones his cheeks may have.

“Where you…” Taehyung encourages with a sharp grin that pierces Jimin in the chest. Taehyung is wicked, oh so wicked, without even knowing how wicked he truly is.

Quickly looking back down, Jimin continues, “I cry myself to sleep at night knowing I’m punished to live a life where I cannot ride Kim Taehyung's face until I'm numb from overstimulation."

A high whistle echoes through the room, Taehyung shaking his head as his lips unpucker and curl into a smirk. 

“Wow,” is all Taehyung says. He stares at Jimin, who stares at the slip of paper in his hands, and folds his arms against his chest. “Wow.” 

Jimin hasn’t ever cried himself to sleep at night over Taehyung, but he has lost sleep over him, and he supposes that isn’t too different. Has he thought about riding Taehyung’s face until he’s numb from overstimulation? 

Well, he is now.

Taehyung must notice Jimin’s eyes fall to his mouth because he brings his hand to his face and runs his index finger along his bottom lip. The movement is slow and uncoordinated, with Taehyung’s finger slipping a few times and pulling down his lip in the middle. It almost looks absent-minded. 

Jimin doesn’t believe him one bit. 

The tweet makes sense, though. Taehyung has nice lips, not as full as Jimin’s, but still shapely. His nose is sharp, his chin and jaw defined, and his tongue… Well, let’s just say that Jimin is fully aware of Taehyung’s oral fixation from how seductive his stage presence is. 

“Should we say our goodbyes?” Yoonhee asks, pulling Jimin out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, yes, I think so.” Ducking his head, Jimin realizes he’s been staring at Taehyung this whole time, not once commenting on the tweet he just read. 

The staff’s laughter only intensifies Jimin’s flustered state as he and Taehyung thank their future audience for watching their episode. 

“We hope you enjoy our upcoming album, Midnight Ride. Jimin and I have worked hard, and we appreciate your love and support.” Taehyung is unfathomably smooth as he delivers the episode’s ending ment. 

Jimin walks out of the room on shaky legs.

Perhaps if Jimin was returning home after the BuzzFeed recording, he’d be okay. He could have the rest of the day to process every dirty thing that came out of Taehyung’s mouth (the most damaging: “I just need to eat Park Jimin’s ass”) and his own mouth (the most embarrassing: “Unhinged Tae thot? After he fingers you he does his signature V pose to lick his fingers”) in peace. He could lie in bed and tell himself that none of this means anything. Anyone would feel strange after hearing their best friend say such vulgar things about them or have to be the one to say the vulgar things. It’s supposed to be uncomfortable. That’s sort of the whole point of the bit. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t have the luxury of going home to reevaluate his life choices. Instead, he slides into the back seat of the car waiting for him and Taehyung outside the BuzzFeed headquarters, and pretends his heart doesn’t leap out of his chest when Taehyung grabs his waist to help him. 

“The venue isn’t far,” their driver announces once Jimin and Taehyung are seated. 

Jungkook, the photographer they’ve hired to handle their concept photos, chose an interesting setting: a seedy-looking nightclub in Hongdae that Jimin is unfamiliar with. 

“Would you like the partition up?” the driver asks. 

Taehyung always prefers privacy in most aspects of his life except when it benefits him to be seen. Jimin doesn’t care much. He has learned how to deal with an idol’s life of constant surveillance. 

As the partition barrier goes up, blocking the driver from seeing and hearing whatever happens in the back seat, Jimin feels his skin prickle with warmth. It’s so odd; his heat has been over for days now. There’s no reason he should still feel uncomfortable body temperature fluctuations. Yet here he is, shivering and clammy. 

“Did you have fun?” Taehyung sounds smug, maybe even a little snarky, but his expression is neutral when Jimin peeks at him from the corner of his eye. 

“I guess you could say that…” 

Ah, there’s the smirk. It’s subtle, just the tiniest twitch of the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, but Jimin notices. He notices most things, finding it hard not to be drawn to Taehyung whenever he’s in the room. Even now, when embarrassment from the BuzzFeed recording has Jimin’s scent so sweet it’s almost tart, he still leans into Taehyung to rest his head on his shoulder. For comfort – just as friends do. 

“Did you have fun?” Jimin asks, tilting his head to look up at Taehyung. 

“Mhm,” Taehyung turns his face slightly to rest his cheek atop Jimin’s head, “I enjoyed watching you get all red and sweaty over it.” 

“Shut up!” 

Taehyung’s laughter is all teeth and crinkled eyes. His shoulders shake, bouncing Jimin’s head up and down, but Jimin doesn’t mind. Taehyung is cute, even when it’s at Jimin’s expense. 

“The internet is a nasty place,” Jimin sighs once Taehyung’s laughter has subsided. “Creative, but nasty.” 

“I find it flattering.”

Jimin watches Taehyung play with the many gold rings adorning his fingers, some fingers with more than one band slipped over them. Compared to Jimin’s stubby fingers, Taehyung’s are long and pretty, not too knobby, and end with finely manicured nails. Even his cuticles are perfect. Jimin can’t help but think about the first tweet he read and how nice the pressure of Taehyung’s hand was against his throat. 

“Flattering?” Jimin breathes, struggling to drag his eyes away. 

“You don’t think it is?” 

Jimin wonders if Taehyung really does lick the slick off his fingers in a “V” shape after fingering an omega, can’t stop his mind from wandering to all the female omegas Taehyung has hooked up with in the two years Jimin has known him. Jimin doesn’t have much additional brainpower to spend contemplating if finding sexual commentary about himself on social media platforms is flattering.

“I was just surprised, I guess.” Jimin grows quiet as he watches Taehyung reach for his hand, lacing their fingers together so he can pull Jimin’s hand into his lap. Their size difference never fails to make Jimin’s heart flutter, though he ignores it rather well. 

“You don’t go on the internet enough,” Taehyung flicks Jimin’s fingers, paying particular attention to his pinky, “I’ve seen dirtier commentary on Korea’s sweetheart, Park Jimin. Stuff that would make me look tame. Especially from Americans. They’re unhinged over there.”

Jimin doesn’t believe him, but he keeps quiet. It’s better that way since Taehyung flips Jimin’s hand to rest on his thigh, palm up, so he can trace the lines that web it. Taehyung’s light touch tickles and Jimin is still weirdly sensitive. 

“That’s why I avoid looking myself up…” Jimin eventually says. 

Taehyung hums in response, his mind gone somewhere new, while Jimin tries not to wiggle under his touch. He brushes his thumb along Jimin’s wrist, stimulating his scent gland. Vanilla and bourbon go well together, dark but warm and comforting enough that Jimin becomes drowsy. 

Exhausted from Yoongi and Seokjin being forced to book their promotional activities back-to-back due to “Spoiler Gate,” Jimin doesn’t fully wake up until they arrive at the nightclub. By then, he’s fully pressed into Taehyung’s side, his face tucked against his neck. 

Jimin no longer frequents Hongdae, but this nightclub isn’t his vibe anyway. As Jimin and Taehyung are ushered inside by Jungkook’s staff waiting for them, Jimin notes how dark and moody the club is. It’s industrial, with intentional graffiti, and designed to look like the warehouse nightclubs popular in the States, the ones Jimin supposes are for raves and underground music. 

In his casual streetwear of joggers and a fitted hoodie that stretches over his upper body muscles, Taehyung looks right at home, though they’ll both need to change outfits for the photoshoot. 

It’s strange to be in a nightclub during the day. Jungkook chose the venue after Jimin and Taehyung gave him the creative license to do whatever he wanted with their photoshoot. It’s risky, literally letting a photographer call all the shots, but Jimin assumes nothing will be as big of a risk as releasing an album with Taehyung. Besides, Jungkook has an impressive portfolio of gorgeous images he has captured of other celebrities over the years, and dreamscape worked with him in the past. 

The only danger to their photoshoot is Taehyung. 

It doesn’t take long to get ready for the photoshoot, although Jimin always spends more time with the stylists than Taehyung. With his additional free time, Taehyung catches up with Jungkook, whom he hasn’t seen in a while. They’re friends through the music industry but not directly because of their careers. They just so happened to meet each other through their mutual tattoo artist, who is well sought after by celebrities with plenty of money to drop on intricate tattoos. Both men are inked up all over their upper bodies. As uncommon as it is in South Korea, their body art makes them even more attractive to fans and celebrities. 

Not that Jimin ever thinks about anything like that. The fact that Taehyung has arm and chest tattoos has nothing to do with Jimin, of course.

When Jimin steps into the main room of the nightclub, where the large dance floor is, he’s greeted by Taehyung’s naked abdomen. 

“Got this one a couple days ago.” Taehyung lifts his shirt and points to a square patch of see-through bandage stuck with adhesive to his ribcage. 

Jungkook's camera is slung over his shoulder so he can bend slightly to examine the new tattoo through the plastic-like covering. 

The tattoo is one Jimin has seen before, but only once when Taehyung first got it. Despite their fairly regular sleepovers, Jimin rarely sees Taehyung without clothes on. It’s for the best, honestly. Ever since Taehyung came back from his enlistment, he maintained the muscular physique he’d nurtured while fulfilling his duty. Most alphas do; it’s just that Taehyung is always special in Jimin’s eyes. 

“Fuck me,” Jungkook mutters, looking up at Taehyung, “How bad was it?”

“Man, hurt like a bitch.” 

Jimin snorts, making Taehyung’s amber eyes look towards him. 

“When I got my ribs done, it wasn’t so bad. Alphas just have a lower pain tolerance than omegas.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Jungkook says with an appreciative nod. 

Taehyung grins in a certain way that tells Jimin he’s about to say something terrible. Jimin doesn’t know how he knows; he just knows that he does, and he goes to scold Taehyung in advance but opens his mouth too late. 

“Taehyung, don’t you–” 

“It’s because you gotta take knots all the time,” Taehyung snickers, earning a smack in the stomach from Jungkook. Despite being an alpha, too, Jungkook has at least some decorum. 

Jimin hates how shy Taehyung’s comment makes him, and he turns his face to avoid looking at him. Maybe there’s some science behind Taehyung’s speculation. Maybe Taehyung is just a stupid alpha sometimes. 

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook lifts his camera from where it’s looped over his shoulder, “Let’s get this shit over with so we can get done before this place has to open for the evening.” 

The nightclub provides a gritty backdrop for their photos. It’s fitting, considering the album explores concepts like sensuality, forbidden romances, and a sense of belonging in spaces where it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. BDSM or not, Jimin values the nuances of their songs. Even the concept of a forbidden romance is less about a relationship with another person and more about Jimin feeling forbidden from exploring his identity as an adult in the K-pop industry. 

For Taehyung, the songs may be literal, but Jimin knows his best friend well enough to be sure that there’s more to him than surface-level sexual lyrics. 

“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks as he brings his camera up to his face. He analyzes the scene they’ve set up, and Jimin can practically see the creative gears turning in his brain. 

“Is this the last thing on my schedule for the day?” Taehyung already knows none of them can answer his question. Only Yoongi would be able to, and he isn’t here. 

Seokjin isn’t attending the photoshoot either, though Jimin already knew he would be busy with other important matters. It makes Jimin no difference; he has done countless photo concept shoots. He and Taehyung should be in and out without much of a fuss. 

Jungkook starts with a few photos at the bar counter that make it appear that Jimin and Taehyung are genuinely getting drinks at a bar. He ensures that Jimin and Taehyung get equal opportunities for solo shots and ones together. Other photos are more artistic, sometimes merely of the setting or close-ups of Jimin and Taehyung’s clothing – outfits they changed into for the shoot. Jimin and Taehyung complement each other well; their outfits don't quite match, but they're still in harmony. Their stylists leaned heavily into the dark, mature aesthetic of the album – opting for neutral color palettes, few patterns, and just shy of too much leather.

Taehyung was especially thrilled when one of the stylists fastened a leather necklace on Jimin, one too similar to a collar for Jimin’s liking. 

“Nice choker,” Taehyung had snickered when he maneuvered around the stylists who fiddled with Jimin’s clothes and makeup. 

Jimin chose to ignore such an inappropriate comment. And although Jimin is entirely out of his element in adopting this aesthetic, he has always enjoyed playing dress-up. What idol doesn’t? 

Once finished with the bar backdrop, Jungkook leads Jimin and Taehyung to a different room separate from the main dance floor. Blanketed in soft velvet furniture and red lighting, the second room is a VIP lounge. It feels sultry, even with the absence of people and the heavy bass of club music. 

“Taehyung-ssi, can you put your arm across the back of the couch? Just let it hang limp.” 

For a fraction of a second, Jimin tenses when Taehyung follows Jungkook’s orders by draping his arm over the back of the couch where Jimin sits beside him. The movement reminds Jimin of the teenage cliche, the slow reach behind someone’s date at the movies, trying their best to appear nonchalant when everyone knows they’re trembling inside. 

“Perfect.” 

Jungkook either doesn’t notice how tense Jimin is, or he thinks it’s all an act for the camera. He takes a few quick photos before directing Jimin and Taehyung to new positions on the red velvet couch. 

“Alright, this time, I need you to face each other and give me something that screams Midnight Ride. I need something dark, spicy, something… enchanting. People need to see the chemistry between you. Think you can manage that?” 

Jimin scrunches his eyebrows and stares at Jungkook, who nearly vibrates from creative enthusiasm. “Chemistry? Why would we need to have that?” 

They do, but Jimin doesn’t understand why that matters. 

“Come on, Chim. It’s just for fun,” Taehyung murmurs, running his fingers along Jimin’s jaw with enough pressure to bring his face forward again. “You know how to be enchanting. Hit me with those siren eyes of yours that everyone loves.” 

It should be easy; Jimin knows exactly what Taehyung is talking about. Part of the effect is having the right makeup and a perfect mindset. When it comes to his job, performing and presenting himself as an idol, Jimin is a professional at being alluring. 

This photoshoot is different, though. Taehyung is the alluring one, his features sharp and haunting in the VIP room’s red lights. The lighting does nothing to mute the teasing glint in his eyes; if anything, the color enhances the mischievous gleam. Jimin would shy away from such a gaze if it weren’t for Taehyung maintaining light pressure on the edge of his jaw to keep him in place.  

“Perfect, absolutely perfect,” Jungkook’s praises sound far away and waver like the summer air rippling with heat as it rises from the asphalt. 

Taehyung chuckles, and the light caress of his breath makes Jimin’s skin tingle. It doesn’t help that they’re sitting so closely that their knees bump, and Jimin is inundated with Taehyung’s uninhibited alpha pheromones. He’s amused, his scent telling Jimin that he falls somewhere between genuinely happy and wickedly mocking. For some reason, Jimin feels embarrassed either way. 

“Jimin-ssi, can you follow Taehyungie hyung’s lead?” 

Maybe? No? Jimin doesn’t know what Jungkook is asking of him. Midnight Ride is sultry, dark, and mature. If someone asked Taehyung what it’s about, point blank, he’d say it’s about sex. And it is, even though Jimin respects the nuances. Some songs are genuinely only about sex, and sex sells. Not that Jimin and Taehyung need to be sexual for their music to perform well. It’s just fun. Jimin is finally letting himself admit that. 

Taking a deep breath, Jimin tries to force himself into the headspace he needs for this look. He focuses on how free “Hurt So Good” makes him feel seductive and powerful. It is a reminder that Jimin can do anything he sets his mind to, even if it hurts. Even if a part of him craves that hurt because it gives him something to strive for and adversity to overcome. 

Like the strange feelings he has for Taehyung. They hurt so badly, especially now when Taehyung is so close, and he smells so good, and all Jimin can think about is how wrong his fans are because he and Taehyung aren’t together. They’re friends, and Jimin is okay with that. He doesn’t have actual feelings for Taehyung. He’s confused, a little lost, and hopelessly ruled by the tricks being with a co-lead can play on idols who collaborate. Jimin imagines it’s the same as how some actors get swept up in their emotions when taking on a romance role. 

“Why are you upset?” Taehyung asks quietly, and Jimin hopes Jungkook doesn’t hear them over his camera's click and the staff chattering in the background. 

Jimin is too quick to answer, “I’m not.” 

“Your scent is telling me otherwise.”

With the click of the camera shutters, it’s likely impossible for Jungkook to not have captured Taehyung subtly scenting Jimin by pressing his wrist against his neck. He drags his wrist downward and then around the back to grab Jimin’s nape. They both know Jungkook won’t use the photos of such an intimate moment, no matter how small. 

The scenting works as it always does when Jimin is with Taehyung. He leans into Taehyung more, feeling his body relax and his chest become lighter. 

Though it may be more than just the scenting. Taehyung fully cups his palm around Jimin’s nape and presses down slightly, pulling Jimin in further until he’s forced to close his eyes because they’re too close together to look at Taehyung without his eyes crossing. 

“I think we should give everyone something worth talking about,” Taehyung whispers, though Jimin catches his smug tone quickly. 

He doesn’t want to ask and is afraid of the answer, but the question slips out anyway. “Like what?”

Rather than respond, Taehyung keeps his hand against Jimin’s neck when he kisses him. The pressure isn’t forceful, though; Jimin can easily pull away. 

He doesn’t. 

It’s gentle how Taehyung’s lips lock with Jimin’s, but it isn’t innocent. He nibbles Jimin’s bottom lip hard enough for it to hurt before sucking it into his mouth. Jimin gasps at the pull, and Taehyung’s responding throaty chuckle sparks something hot and electric through Jimin’s body like his veins are hot wires sizzling inside of him from his lips to his toes and the tips of his fingers that dig into the couch cushions. 

What the fuck?

Taehyung’s hand slides upward from Jimin’s nape so he can slip his fingers in his hair. He curls his fingers around the longer strands in the back and tugs so slightly that it hardly moves Jimin’s head, but enough to make Jimin whimper – quiet but still embarrassing. 

“Uhh, I don’t know if I can use this…” Jungkook’s voice chisels between Jimin and Taehyung, forcing them to part. 

Taehyung's calm and steady breaths contrast sharply with Jimin's quick and sharp inhales. Jimin grips the couch cushions tightly, unable to get his lungs to cooperate.

What the fuck, what the fuck?

“Why? Are you scared of Jinnie hyung’s wrath?” Taehyung leans back against the arm of the couch. He’s so casual and relaxed, as if he hasn’t nearly made Jimin slick in front of everyone. 

“Duh, I am. I’m not trying to lose my job over you guys being controversial,” Jungkook admits with a pout, but he takes a few more photos anyway. 

According to Jungkook, they’ve got enough content to work with. Jimin knew the photoshoot wouldn’t take long, but the rest of the poses Jungkook puts them in after The Kiss make Jimin feel like jelly. Nothing else comes nearly as close as provocative, but it doesn’t matter. Jimin can’t get his head straight. He follows Taehyung and Jungkook to a few more rooms in the nightclub with a spacey look on his face that seems to please Taehyung if his honeyed scent is to be trusted. 

Why would Taehyung kiss him? Jimin doesn’t understand. 

He intently watches Taehyung for the rest of the photoshoot and continues to do so once they’re back in the car and are dropped off at their respective apartments. Taehyung behaves normally, chatting away about how exhausting promo schedules are, that he doesn't understand how Jimin could handle dreamscape’s comebacks, and how he needs to reconnect with Jungkook outside of work more often. His energy is slowly depleting from the day’s activities, but he’s got that sparkle in his eyes that Jimin loves so much. 

Essentially, Taehyung is unaffected. 

It’s controversial, as Jungkook said. A wow factor. Something to make people talk. Taehyung is known for causing scenes and pushing boundaries; Jimin shouldn’t be surprised that he’d want to do the same for their album. 

But when Taehyung daps Jimin up in goodbye when they reach his apartment first, never once looking back as he jogs to the front doors, Jimin feels his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. It’s just a game, one in which Taehyung is a professional.

Later, when Jimin is snuggled in bed, he tries not to let his thoughts wander. He doesn’t try very hard, especially when he lets himself pick his bottom lip with his index finger and thumb, playing with the middle pillowy part Taehyung had wrapped his lips around. It’s like he’s in a trance, or maybe he’s high off of his needy pheromones, unable to rip himself away from thoughts about The Kiss. 

He got his wish: now he knows Taehyung’s lips are even softer than they look. The thing is, he can’t blame hormones this time. 

Luckily, it’s just a game. 

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

[chickencowcow]

Vent under da cut or smth

Every now and again I get so brutally reminded of the fact that whatever I do I will never feel "autistic" enough. And it's like whatever sure I have autism I'll always have it and it's not like I hate myself for having autism or anything it's just. Somehow I managed to absorb so many neurotypical habits that make it so much more difficult to communicate with ANYONE. I'm too. Fucking. Off-putting for neurotypical people and I'm too. Complicated for autistic ppl.

Like the whole thing ab ragging on "neurotypicals not saying what they mean" -- those rules make Sense to me! The social customs of like. Not saying when you're mad but wanting the other person to pick up on it bc you don't rlly wanna talk about the issue it's like. I get it. Mostly from the perspective of like "if I say I'm mad people will either get mad at me For that or want to Talk about it and I want neither of those" and. Like. It's so often that these rules are called stupid but like. They Make Sense to me. Sure maybe that's masking but like. At this point it's so much more to "unmask"

Also somehow some way I manage to talk ab my special interests in a way that either annoys, bores, or like. Disturbs people. And it's like. I don't know what im doing. Wrong. Ppl in my friend group seem to get it right. I mean I've gotten the "you always wanna talk about that why are you so self centered" from neurotypicals but I've also gotten a lot of "oh of course it's that when isn't it that" from autistic friends.

Idk. I just feel like I'm doing so much wrong and that I'm not. Idk. "Good" enough. I'm tired

[chalkrub]

art trade from toyhouse - love this funny evil guy

[rosicheeks]

Aka Riders Lullaby from Centaurworld

Lay your head on my chest so I can sing you a lullaby and gently run my fingers through your hair until you slowly drift off to sleep 🥰🫶

[fleouriarts]

mini sketchbook dump. lowkey forgot this thing existed until last week

descriptions/refs and such below

1. based on one of the pics i took w hivemind, i told them to do cute poses and riley decided to just go O__O at the camera??? hes so silly <3

2. another livemind thing but this time it's from the video i took of them slow dancing. if i ever say no to a hivemind gay moment... call the cops my identity has been stolen for sure

3. finally drew one of my favorite little hivemind moments EVER oh my god they are so cute. literally me and who

4. this is just a cute pic of riley that i'd drawn literally right when i started doing hivemind fanart so i thought i'd redraw it. adding both the ref pic and my drawing from june 2023 so you can gawk at how much more angular my style has gotten

5. my dearest hex aka @gaydonweaver sent me this old pic of graydon (from a 2018 video i think) and i was enamored with his fluffy hair so i had to draw it

5. another one of my favorite cute hivemind moments... real compilationheads will recognize this as the thumbnail for 'hivemind juicy kissable boyfriend moments' which i remember riley being caught watching on stream 😭 im never gonna forget that i think its so fucking funny

also the section under the cut is a SAFE SPACE so here's some silly and kinda embarrassing sona doodles i did around these

[ribbed-vault-heart]

i’m so overwhelmed by things that shouldn’t be overwhelming...

[musubiki]

im actually fully convinced now that mochi used to wear the long skirt uniform until coco convinced her to be a normal high school girl and wear short skirts like everyone else, and thats when limes Thing(tm) started

[clodiuspulcher]

today im thinking about malaria in ancient rome.

about the fact that P. falciparum (the most dangerous kind of malaria) was likely endemic at least from the 2nd century BC onward that Galen said semitertian fevers (P. falciparum infections) were more common in Rome than anywhere else in the Roman Empire that the most severe manifestations of P. falciparum (quotidian fevers + cerebral malaria) were most common in babies and young children, an epidemiological observation that indicates the transmission rate of P. falciparum was extremely high in Rome that Quintus Serenus said there was no Latin word for semitertian fevers (they used a transliteration of the Greek, 'hemitritaeos') because "no one, i think, could have named it in our language and mothers would not have wanted to"