#bangtan has me quaking

[kosmosguk]

Fôret de Cauchemars (M)

Pairing: sleep psychiatrist kim namjoon x reader

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Plagued by nightmares of your boyfriend’s death, you turn to sleep psychiatrist Kim Namjoon for help. What you find in him is condolence in your isolated world, a ray of sunlight breaking through gaps of rotting leaves. What you find in him is a dream, a beautiful dream, until that dream shatters to reveal the true nightmare underneath. Sometimes, nightmares seamlessly blend into reality, and, unfortunately, waking up simply won’t make them go away anymore.  

Warnings: Yandere themes, death, murder, mature themes (bondage, cunnilingus, unprotected sex), smut, violence, kidnapping, self-loathing, psychological disorders, manipulation,  mentions of suicide, gore 

A/N: Finally back with a fic in a...month? Sorry for the delay; the work load of classes this year has been a real bonk to the vibes, but hopefully testing out a oneshot fic will get me back in the writing energy. Happy fall, and maybe (just maybe) we’ll vibe it up with a new spooky series featuring our beloved yandere bangtan boys! Dedicated to Namjoon’s birthday (although it’s been weeks), and hopefully Jungkook’s birthday fic will be up next. Unfortunately, this means next release of Lineage might not be until October/early November, but I hope you guys stick around!

You didn’t quite know when the nightmares began.

They were unconscious little pricks of fear, the kind that crawled under your skin into your skull and left you with a cold sweat and rapid heartbeat. You always forgot them when you woke up, but their influence was engraved into your bones and etched in every sleep-deprived jolt of paranoia and every accusatory glance you threw to your empty surroundings. You felt eyes on you, even though the remnants of your fading rationality knew that there was nothing there.

Each night filled with the conflict of battling off your body’s desire to sleep left you even more exhausted and even more terrified of some nameless entity that your sleepless mind had conjured up.

The nightmares did not stop. They refused to stop; you knew you needed to solve it somehow. That brought you to the moment of now, in the present, across from a sleep psychiatrist in an office with an air condition system that blew cold gusts of air against the back of your neck and left bumps of goosebumps rising up on your skin.

You curled in on yourself, picking at the ends of your sleeves until the threads became loose, as the sound of rustling paper flipping between your sleep psychiatrist’s fingers filled up the gaps of your sleep-deprived mind. You tentatively threw a glance at the man across from you.

If you weren’t nearly irrational from the lack of sleep, you would’ve been able to truly appreciate how handsome the man was. He was the kind of handsome that artists drew portraits and sculpted of and poets waxed long pages of sonnets about. With smoky gray hair slicked back, eyes curved elegantly behind silver-rimmed glasses, and a sharp mouth set back in a firm expression, Dr. Kim was the type of beautiful that you found in every sharp edge of an icicle.

However, it was unnerving how familiar you felt with his beauty.

“(Y/n) (L/n), correct?’’

His voice, a baritone that encased the chilly office air, drew you back into your blurry reality. You heard a soft click as he turned on his stopwatch. The soft ticking noise reverberated in the still room, just a tinge louder than the blast of the air conditioning. You nodded your head mutely before reaching up to rub at your sore, burning eyes.

“Yes…,” you fought back a yawn, and your words slurred a bit as tears prickled your eyes,” Sorry…’m jus’ tired.”

His gaze, previously neutral, softened a bit more at your pitiful state.

“Though it is currently difficult right now, we’ll work through any psychological stressors that may be causing your nightmares. When did the nightmares begin?’’

You blinked owlishly at him—well, you were more like a raccoon than an owl with how severe your dark circles were, though that was a jab of humor your dwindling mind allowed you on only rare occasions—as you tried to register his words.

“Hmm,’’ you rolled your shoulders back, and a dull ache throbbed through your body as you stretched it,” I don’t…really remember. I don’t remember a lot of things now. Can’t even remember what I did yesterday… Maybe…a couple months ago? They weren’t…weren’t as bad as they are now, so I didn’t really pay attention to them.”

“Have you tried any over the counter sleep medications?’’

You scratched your neck.

Tick, tick, tick.

“Tried a few, but the nightmares didn’t seem to go away. Woke up…,” you shook yourself as if to demonstrate,” cold sweat and everything after a bit. Nightmares came right away, which is weird cause I don’t think I’m even asleep long enough to enter REM.”

“We’ll try a stronger prescription to see if it’ll help you sleep better. Has there been any troubling situations lately? Some time before the nightmares started, right when they started, or even ongoing ones?’’

You blinked again, your eyelids scraping against your dry eyes.

“Hmm…Someone, uh, passed away… My boyfriend? Maybe these nightmares are about losing him, but I dunno…can’t remember them.”

“Would you like to talk more about this?’’ Though his tone was more gentle, Dr. Kim had a look in his eyes that seemed even more chilling than the artificially generated wind against your skin.

You didn’t pay attention. It took you a lot more effort to pay attention to things nowadays and noticing tiny almost unnoticeable things was even more difficult.

“Yeah…It was tough that time. He disappeared, and they found his body. Said he killed himself, but, uh,’’ you tugged even harder on the loose threads, your eyes glued to them,’’ I didn’t even notice the signs…”

“Do you blame yourself for what happened?’’

You blinked once and then twice and then thrice. You could not look at Dr. Kim, but there was a strange shift in the air. Maybe it was a delusional mix of emotions and sleep deprivation. Maybe it was something more. You settled on the former.

The next words came out a bit more choked than you wanted them to. You thought you might’ve cried if you weren’t already so mentally and physically exhausted.

“Yeah…I was his girlfriend. Shoulda seen the signs, but I was busy, and we were drifting apart…,” you bitterly mumbled,” No excuse, though. I have no excuses…”

A silence settled between the two of you. You felt like you had just bored some piece that you had crammed in your soul so tight that it drifted into your thoughts like a second poison. You were so tired; you wanted to tuck yourself into the leather chair and fall asleep to avoid how vulnerable you felt. You noticed him level his steady gaze on you.

“No one can see the signs. People are good at hiding the worst things affecting them, even from those they care for deeply and who care for them deeply. You can’t continue to blame yourself for events in the past that cannot be changed and let that blame affect the you of the present and the future. (Y/n), the first way to conquer your nightmares is to forgive yourself.”

For the first time in the meeting, you raised your gaze to meet Dr. Kim’s gaze straight on. Your eyes, vulnerable and holding onto a devastatingly deep sorrow, were surprised to see that the look in Dr. Kim’s eyes was not as pulled together as his words were. But maybe, as you unconsciously tugged on another thread so hard that it yanked out of your sweater sleeve and drifted to your lap, that was just another one of your delusions.

Dr. Kim’s words resonated throughout your mind on your commute home. They bore a weight on your mind as you slowly shuffled throughout the rest of your day, and they rang even stronger as you laid in bed.

When you closed your eyes, you felt yourself drifting off into the land of unconsciousness. You were running in a forest, clumps of dead grass, rotting leaves, and mud staining the soles of your feet, and your breath gusted out in sharp white puffs of air. The dew of the forest left a sheen on your skin as the wind brushing against your body chilled you to the bone. Underneath the whistle of the wind, you could hear the sound of something ticking.

Tick, tick, tick.

Something grabbed your ankle, sending you sprawling to the forest floor, and you threw a frantic glance at what had yanked you down. Tears built in your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You were trying to push yourself off the floor to keep running, but the branches and roots of the trees of the forest broke out from the floor and wrapped tight around your trembling form, pinning your quaking body to the muddy ground.

You saw a glimpse of a hand and part of an arm extending itself from the forest floor, dirt crusted under the fingernails and staining the crevices of the palm. The forest floor opened up, dirt jaggedly fragmenting and cracking open, as the body behind the hand emerged. You watched, petrified from your spot to the floor. The head pushed out from the forest floor first, and your eyes made contact with the sunken eyes of your dead boyfriend. You were screaming now, your voice hoarse, but no sound coming out. The ticking sound grew louder and louder, and you were crying even harder.

He was so pale that the moonlight trickled through his almost translucent skin, a corpse that dragged itself to the land of the living, and his dark hair was matted to his forehead. There was a sticky glint to the side of his head where his hair looked more clumped. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from it.

“Why…Why did you leave me behind?’’ his voice was like a haunting croak. You could speak now, and your voice pitched into a petrified scream.

“I didn’t mean to…! I didn’t mean to! You told me to run! You told me to run!’’ your voice broke out of your throat, and it grew and grew in an unruly crescendo. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve never left you behi-“

You drew in a sharp inhale that suffocated you, leaving the last words still on your lips as you woke up in your bed. The chill of the forest left you; you were in your bed again, the sheets and blanket messily wrapped around your body. You had been thrashing in your sleep, sending pillows down onto the floor. The room was still dark, just a few moments before dawn. You got up, the cold sweat on your body leaving you breathless, and you blindly reached down to grab your pillows and throw them back onto your bed. Instead of touching the slippery silk covers of your pillows, your fingers met something soft and cuddly.

Your fingers wrapped around a tiny, stuffed arm, and you pulled up what the item was.

A scream tore out of your lips as you threw away the item. It was the stuffed bunny your boyfriend had given you the night of your first anniversary, the last night you had seen your boyfriend before he had pushed you to keep running; this was the very item you had dropped in your run out of the forest. You had left it there.

Why, why was it here?

Your head was hurting, and you dropped the plush animal back onto the ground. You hadn’t noticed the faint blood stains. Its faux fur was too dark for you to make out the splashes of dried brown red.

No, no, what do you mean you left it there? You never went in a forest. Your boyfriend overdosed. They found his body. You weren’t there; you were at home working— You sagged against your bed as your head pounded in throbbing agony.

No, you were here. You were here, waiting for him. It was your first anniversary. He was late. He never came home. You had gotten angry and had called him several times. And then…And then, you got the phone call the next morning that they found his dead body. He killed himself. You forcibly repeated that until it was ingrained in your head, and your breathing slowed down.

The next time you woke up, the sun was blindingly warm against your face, but the nightmare had already left your body cold long before.

You were seated across from Dr. Kim again. The dark circles were even worse today, and you fought back a yawn as he clicked his pen and pressed the tip against the pristine white of his notepad. You watched through watery eyes as your name elegantly swirled out in ink on the notepad.

“I’ve been sleeping the most I’ve ever had in a while, so, uh…Hah, would that even qualify as a perk?’’ you smiled weakly,” And I can remember my nightmares now, though that in itself is exhausting me more than the nights before the remembering ever could.”

His pen stopped right at the second curve of your name. He raised an eyebrow, his demeanor still as composed as ever. He was listening. He was the only one who would listen to you now. Well, you suppose he was the only one who listened because you were paying him for each second of his time.

“That’s good to hear. Remembering your nightmares can help us continue to identify and potentially reduce the impact of your psychological stressor. Continue to talk about them. What do you see?’’

“Uh,’’ you yawned this time, your yawn so big that it cracked your jaw and filled your eyes with tears,’’ They’re a little vague.’’

“It’s okay. You’ve made progress.”

“Mmm…if you say so.’’ You scratched your wrist, your gaze on the skin,” Well…I’m in a forest. Super scary. I think it’s the one they found my boyfriend in. And I’m running. And, uh, a hand comes out and grabs my ankle, and I try to break free…but…but I can’t, the trees are coming and they’re wrapping so tight…I can’t breathe.”

Your words sped up, and you didn’t know you were choking on your own breath until you let out a strangled cough at the last word.

“Keep on going.”

“And I—,’’ you’re tearing up now, sobbing slightly as you force the next words out through ragged breaths,” I look over, and it’s him! It’s him! He’s there! He’s climbing out…and he’s asking me why. Why! I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!’’

Your voice heightened in its pitch, and you were just a whisper below a full-on yell. Your shoulders shook, trembling as the tears spilled out and splashed against your cheeks and dripped down your chin, and you were curling further into yourself as you fought to inhale a deep breath. Dr. Kim was out of his chair, his hands stroking your shoulder gently, and he was soothing you. He was holding you now. You buried your head into the collar of his shirt, staining the cloth with tears and snot.

This wasn’t professional, but Dr. Kim made no move to get away, and you didn’t care that you were probably violating some doctor-patient code of conduct rule. It had been so long since someone held you and stroked your back so kindly.

When you finally broke away from the hug to look at Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim brushed the drying tears off of your cheek, his finger glistening with your tears. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. This was wrong. Not only professionally, but your boyfriend…You couldn’t move on from him. But you couldn’t push away the only hand that was willing to dry your tears.

You somehow managed to look at him, your cheeks feeling hot, and you shakily whispered,” I’m…I’m sorry.”

Who were you apologizing to? Dr. Kim for having a mental breakdown, though his job in the very first place was to help you with mental breakdowns? Your dead boyfriend, who was rotting away 6 feet under for finding solace in another man? Or you, poor innocent you who had suffered so much?

He tenderly smiled at you, the warm look strange compared to his usual stony expression but oh so comforting.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s normal.” He cleared his throat, his expression turning cold again, and he was back in his leather chair.

Somehow, although the two of you had resumed as if was normal, you knew something had changed. Maybe it was when his arms were wrapped around your trembling form, his touch warming up your freezing body, or maybe it was the very moment you had sat down on the sofa across from him just a few minutes ago.

Or maybe, maybe something was different between the two of you all along.

You had the same nightmare again that very night. Well, it was not like it ever really changed, not when your psychological state of mind seemed to seek its purpose in rattling every single nerve in your poor body. But something seemed even more worse than usual in your dream.

The scent of mildew was the same, damply settling on the back of your tongue and in your throat, and you could smell something rotting underneath the sickly-sweet scent. However, that wasn’t what was off in your dream.

You weren’t running for the first time. No rapid breath escaped you; your chest rose and fell in even beats. That was your first indication that something was terribly wrong.

What a horrible irony bestowed upon you.

Your fears were confirmed when you heard something small and thin and sharp snap underfoot, and you turned slowly. Your mouth fell open in horror at the sight.

There was a skeleton, one with ivory bones that gleamed underneath the waxy moonlight, and something told you that that skeleton was your boyfriend. Your gaze darted to what made that terrible crackling sound: a foot clad in a leather shoe against the delicate bone wrist of your boyfriend’s postmortem state. Your eyes trailed up and up and up until they settled onto the face of the perpetrator.

“Dr. Kim?’’ the dream you, despite the roaring screams of your thoughts, smiled a coquettish one that stretched almost painfully on your face. You took steps forward, the mud staining your bare feet, and you felt bone snap and crackle and crumble underneath your weight as you got closer and closer, and Dr. Kim laughed as he swept you up in his arms and left a loving kiss on your lips.

“My beloved,’’ his hands trailed to your waist. You felt the bone underneath your feet turn into a mass of bloody flesh and bone. There was a streak of red carnage on Dr. Kim’s face that you hadn’t noticed before,” Oh, how I adore you.”

“Dr. Kim,’’ you whispered playfully into the side of his neck,” Dr. Kim, touch me.”

His fingertips brushed underneath your skirt, toying with the fabric of your panties, and you let out a breathy sigh of laughter as you opened your legs further. A squelch of flesh and blood underneath the soles of your feet accompanied your movement. As you looked up, your eyes tenderly swept his face and took in his features.

His handsome features, his strong jaw and his softly curved lips and the indents in his cheeks dappled underneath the romantic pale moonlight peeking through the trees, looked absolutely maniacal. His voice was amused, and it swathed the crisp air of the forest in a breathy husk that left you shivering in both pleasure and thrill.

“It’s what I’ve been waiting for all along, my beloved.”

You woke up with a start. Your pajamas were sticking to your body in a feverish sweat, and you pushed yourself up and off the bed. Your body was unused to the sudden movement, and your legs froze, sending you to a tumble to the floor.

“What the,” you stayed there on the floor, unable to move. Your breath was heightened and came out in shallow pants through your dry lips. “What the absolute fuck?’’

When you finally managed to get off the floor and onto shaky legs that trembled to hold your weight, your first action was to call the office and cancel your upcoming appointment with Dr. Kim. You didn’t mind the large fee that came from this cancellation; even the thought of seeing him after what had transpired between the two of you in both reality and the imaginary world left you disgusted with yourself. You could feel the aching throb in between your legs, a neediness still settled in your veins, and the wet spot you left on your pantie. Bile rose up in your throat as your mind engulfed in self-loathing.

You turned off your phone and threw it onto your bed. It bounced off and landed by your feet on the carpet. You swallowed a shriek of ragged frustration before getting up in quick desperate movements. The uncomfortable drag of the fabric of your panties seemed to remind you only more of your shame. You felt dirty.

You needed to be clean.

You stepped into the tub, turned on the faucet, and silently stood there as the shower sprayed cold water onto your still-clothed body. Inhaling a sharp breath, you closed your eyes again.

“I’m so sorry.”

Looking back, you wondered to yourself, what were you even sorry for? Wouldn’t it have been better to be sorry for yourself?

Perhaps it wouldn’t have ended the way it did if you had done that instead. But you’ll never know now. It was too late.

The echo of the clock ticking seemed to sound over the rush of cold water. Each click and swing brushed against the other, softly like the wind that brushed through the leaves and the branches and the trees and by the roots that bounded your feet to the dirt.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

You couldn’t keep cancelling your appointments.

Some part of you didn’t want to. You hated that part of you. But it was ingrained in you. Some part of you was addicted to Dr. Kim, addicted to the way he had tenderly held you, to the way his fingers had felt against the soft skin of your cheek as he wiped away acrid tears.

You were sitting across from him again. The soft, almost inaudible but painfully audible to you ticking of his wristwatch echoed in the silent room. There was no notepad in his hands again, nor rustling of paper forms between slender fingers to fill up the tension in the room; there was only his gaze rested on you. You couldn’t breathe.

You were yanking on the threads of your sweater again. The threads, loosened, snagged on your nails, and you dropped the soft material with a mental huff of displeasure. The setting of the sun outside of the window drowned the both of you in a peaceful warm orange hue…but you knew: there’s nothing peaceful going on. Not in your heart, not in the crevices of the office, not in the way Dr. Kim coolly smiled at you as if nothing was wrong…Nothing was peaceful.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you.” If you thought too hard into it, you might have perceived his words as accusatory. But he was just your psychiatrist. There was no way he was going to cross the professional boundary between the two of you. The first time was already a mistake.

Or was it?

“How are you?’’ his words sent a thrill down your spine.

You looked at him through your lashes. You couldn’t seem to think properly when he was so near you. The smell of his cologne, musky and rich, settled in your throat.

“I’m,’’ you swallowed thickly before ducking your head back down,” I’m fine.’’

“Are you really?’’

Those words seemed to break you down.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,’’ the heaviness of your voice gave the truth right away, and you were sobbing. The you of before, the you back in the past when you were better, had hated crying, but something about being in this office, with the air conditioning blasting heavily at the nape of your neck and the thought of Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim left you glued to the seat in tears.

You sucked in a shaky breath, fiercely wiping away tears with your sleeves until your skin stung; you didn’t even notice the tissue box that Dr. Kim picked up and placed by you. He was closer to you now, sitting next to you on the couch in his office, and you leaned in closer to him. You felt him stroke your hair, comforting. You melted into his warmth.

“I’m s-…sorry,’’ you stammered out,’’ It’s just…It’s just I’m feeling guilty.”

“Why do you feel guilty?’’ his voice, deeper than usual, brushed hotly against your ear, and you shivered. Was it the air-conditioning that chilled you to the bone, or was it something else?

Ironically, despite the icy feeling in your gut, you could feel the heat coming to your cheeks, and you swore there must’ve been some hint of a flush that gave away the rapid pit-pattering of your heart. The guilt swelled and crashed in your chest with every thump.

“I’m guilty because…because!’’ the words dried up in your throat, and you clenched your eyes shut as you forced them out through trembling lips,” I shouldn’t be viewing someone else like this.”

“Like what?’’

“In the way I viewed my boyfriend…I’m—,’’ you swallowed thickly.

“Who do you view this way?’’ The gentle stroking of your hair halted, and you peeked open your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, though, and your eyes fell back down to your lap.

“Y-,’’ you sucked in a breath,’’ You, Dr. Kim.”

Tick, tick, tick.

The ticking of his stopwatch drew your attention, and you stared at it breathlessly as you waited for his reply.

He didn’t reply right away, and your heartbeat spiked painfully in your chest. You made a move to stand up, a torrid heat swelling up in your face as tears of embarrassment and guilt and shame pricked your eyes, and you pushed away from him.

“I-I should leave. I’ll cancel my appoint—,’’ your remaining words squeezed out in a surprised gasp as Dr. Kim’s hand encircled your wrist and pulled you to him.

His lips were against yours, the kiss bitingly rough, and you let out a surprised moan as you felt his hand cradle the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He sucked your breath right out of your lungs, and you meekly realized that you were drooling slightly out of the corner of your mouth as he probed his tongue through your lips and against the warm crevices of your mouth. He sucked on your tongue, and you made a soft startled mmph against his lips.

“Dr.—Dr. Kim!’’ you managed to place a trembling hand between the small gap between his chest and yours—you briefly admired the feeling of the muscles of his clothed chest against the palm of your hand—and pried your lips from his. Your eyes had watered in a wanton surprise; you looked like sin itself with the way you trembled and quaked and breathed shakily through swollen lips, a trail of saliva glinting on the corner of your mouth. “Dr. Kim, what—what are you doing?’’

“What do you think I’m doing?’’ his lips curved in an attractive teasing smile that caused shivers to roll down your spine,” Is it a sin to view you the same way you view me?’’

You sucked in a breath and opened your mouth. No further words of protest managed to come out.

Laughter, rough and hoarse, rumbled in his throat as he took off his jacket and loosened the tie around his white collared shirt. The setting sun cast shadows and made him look almost sinister. His voice was like a purr as he spoke.

“Then we’ll sin together. On your hands and knees.”

Some part of you trembled as you heard his voice. His voice was alluring, the way it wrapped around you and dragged you, limp and terrified, into a daze. You were flat on the palms of your hands and your knees before you knew it.

You felt his hands, cool and slightly rough, against the heated flesh of your exposed thighs, and they dragged up to your skirt and pushed it higher up around your waist, leaving only the exposed fabric of your soaked panties behind.

“Dr—Mmph!’’ you were about to question him, but the drag of his finger as it peeled away the flimsy string of your panties left you shivering in bliss. You made another move to question it; you tried your best. Your arms trembled, struggling to hold yourself up, as you felt his tongue drag against the outer folds of your pussy, and then he was devouring you.

His tongue brushed and stroked against your swollen clitoris, and you made a muffled moan through clenched teeth at the spine-tingling touch. And he was shoving his tongue deep into your walls; your walls shivered and quaked and trembled and tightened around his tongue, and you heard him grunt a muffled curse before you were coming.

Your toes curled, your eyes rolled back, and your arms collapsed, sending you careening into the plush arm of the sofa.

You tried to recover, but Dr. Kim didn’t let you recover. He pushed the fabric of your panties further down, and you made a muffled sound of protest as you felt something hot and hard against your sensitive pussy.

You were panting, breathless little whimpers leaving your lips. You were so sensitive; you couldn’t handle anymore. But he was already pushing his cock in.

“Dr. Kim, I’m so…,’’ you sobbed out, your hair a mess. You made a move to twist around, but he grabbed your wrists and, using the tie he had pulled out from around his neck, tied them together. You could only press your face, breathing out high-pitched gasps and moans, against the soft arm of the sofa as he pushed deeper and deeper into you.

The sensation was almost burning the way your walls stretched around his big cock. Oh god, he was bigger than your boyfriend, and you hadn’t fucked anyone since his death. You were tearing up, ready to open your mouth and tell him to stop it, when his cock finally was fully in. It felt like it was pressing against your womb with how deep it was. You made a choked cry.

“Dr. Kim…Dr.—Oh!’’ you keened in pleasure as he pulled out, his cock dragging against your gummy walls, and then pushed back in fully. He set an unforgivable pace, his hands firmly placed on your hips, and you swore you were getting fabric burns from the rough way the pace of his thrusts sent you crashing again and against into the sofa. Your tits bounced, and he grabbed one of them with a hand, stroking the clothed hard nipple with his finger. “Please…Please slow…Mmm! S-slow…slow down!’’

He didn’t slow down. If anything, it seemed like he sped up instead. You could feel your wrists getting red from the tie, but you didn’t care. You were getting so close to your next orgasm. You were already sensitive from the first orgasm, and Dr. Kim’s cock was dragging against your walls just right. You were so, so, so close.

“Dr. Kim!” you squealed out as your walls squeezed around his thrusting cock, and your eyes squeezed shut as you clenched hard down on him. He didn’t even pause, continuing to fuck you even through your orgasm. “Dr…Nngh! Dr. Kim…!’’

You were drooling again as he continued to pound into you, your sensitive pussy trembling fervently around him. You couldn’t think, not when his cock was rearranging your insides, and you could only shiver as he chased his own orgasm with your wet pussy.

He was pounding against your cervix, the sensation leaving little pricks in the nerves underneath your skin, and then you felt him twitch. You realized, with heightened panic, that he wasn’t wearing a condom and made a panicked move to stop him, but he was filling you with hot cum and your eyes were rolling back as you reached another orgasm. He pulled out, his cum staining the bare skin of your ass, and you felt his cum ooze out slightly from your walls.

You twitched, your ass still up and your arms sore from being pinned to your back. You couldn’t move. Not when your brain couldn’t even form coherent thoughts, and you were left spent.

“With the way you haven’t moved,’’ his voice lowered to a predatory tone,’’ Fuck, you make me so hard.”

He was hard again; you could feel it against your sensitive walls before he slammed back into you. You couldn’t even make a sound of protest, not when he had already fucked you thoroughly, before he was fucking you again. You heard the sound of his hips colliding into your ass, the sinful clap of skin together and the squelch of your juices around his invading cock and the rough drag of the fabric of his pants against your flushed skin. You were making panting noises, too tired to even moan. Your cheek rubbed against the sofa as he knocked against your quivering womb with each thrust.

His thrusts were as animalistic as the first time. He fucked you like he was stealing a part of his soul. He fucked you like he craved your existence. He fucked you as if you were his. And you took it, falling into the next orgasm and whimpering as he came again, quicker this time. He was filling you up, marking you from the inside out, and you… you could only moan as he did so.  

He pulled out this time, and you couldn’t even hold yourself up. Your thighs trembled, the inner skin of them coated in an obscene mixture of his cum and your juices, and you clumsily fell to the sofa. You were drifting off, your eyelids closing, and you were, for the first time in a long, dissolving in bliss.

He draped his coat over your sticky body, and you felt him stroke your hair again. His touch was gentle, so gentle. Your eyes drooped further shut.

“Did he fuck you like I did? Make you more like the whore you are?’’ his voice was low, but you could hear it. When it came to him, you could always hear him. But you were too tired. You wanted to sleep. Maybe if you slept by him, the nightmares wouldn’t come.

He chuckled at your lack of response, smoothing the strands of your hair down, and you heard the faint sound of his ticking watch. If you looked closely, through half-lidded eyes, you could make out small scratches and a single crack on the watch’s glass.

“Good night, my beloved.” His voice was like a hum. You…you remembered that. You knew that voice long before you ever sat in front of Dr. Kim. Some part of you screamed, but that part was weaker, blurred by the calming strokes of his hand over your hair and the sweet daze of sleep that kissed your eyelids shut.

You were dreaming again. It was a nightmare. You were in the woods again, the wind in your hair, and you were laughing at a joke your boyfriend said. He gave you the stuffed animal, pretty and soft and comforting, and you were giggling in delight as you hugged it to your chest.

“Babe, I love—,’’ the words died in your throat as a gunshot cracked through the crisp forest night. You were screaming now, the previous words of your love confession dying in your chest as ragged yells dragged out of your throat. He fell down, fearful-stained eyes growing glassy, and you felt a splatter of blood against your hands that stained the stuffed animal you were cradling. You were sobbing, your hands trembling as you reached out to try to touch his paling face. His lips shivered as they made one final desperate yell.

“Run!’’

You turned on your heels and made a run for it. You broke through trees and branches whipped at your fast as you ran and ran and…A hand grabbed your hair and slammed you against the tree so hard you were left winded, and you were screaming madly in grief and fear and outright hysteria as you lashed out.

“Why are you after us? Why us? Why did you kill him? Why did you kill him? WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?’’

Your fingers snagged a watch, leaving scratches on the wrist of the perpetrator, and you yanked it off the wrist in the midst of your struggle. You kicked out, frantic and desperate, and the moonlight of the night hit the perpetrator.

Dr. Kim’s face glowed underneath the waning light, his handsome features twisted in a mad glee as you thrashed and thrashed, and he was laughing through a choked breath even when your foot crashed into his rib and sent him sprawling to the forest floor.

You didn’t even wait to turn on your heel, and you were running again.

“Good night, my beloved.’’

You heard him laughing in the distance after he spoke, the sound rough and coarse and haunting, and there was that ticking again resonating from his watch still drowning in the forest floor’s mixture of mud and branches and rotting leaves.

Tick, tick, tick.

You saw the edge of the forest, the blinding light of the lamppost flickering in the distance, and your foot caught on a root protruding from the dark ground. You crashed into the ground.

You fought to get up, but the mud was soft underneath your thrashing body, and you were sinking into it. It swallowed your feet and your hands first, and you were sobbing in hysteria as it began to swallow up until your neck, and you were choking on mud as you drowned in it.

Flashes of Dr. Kim’s face flickered through your mind. His cold face, the warmth in his eyes as he wiped off your tears, the hunger in his expression as he devoured your lips, and…and his face twisted like a maniac as he dragged you against the forest tree and mockingly laughed at your struggle. He was going to finish you next, he was going to love you, he was going to break you, he was going to hold you, and he was…he was obsessed with you.

The mud filled your lungs, and you stopped coughing, stopped trying, stopped fighting. Your lips twisted in a content smile as you closed your eyes and went limp.

A/N: Leave a comment/review if you enjoyed the fic (or tell me if I made a mistake anywhere. Always a bit nerve-wracking copy and pasting from the word document I use to write). Sending my love to all of you for your support, as always!

[feliix]

Bluff ⇢ PJM (18+)

⇢ Pairing: Jimin x Reader ⇢ Summary: Working at The Big Kahuna with Park Jimin consists of a lot of suggestive flirting with no actions made to follow it up. But after a summer filled with endless amounts of sexual tension, it’s finally time to let things loose. ⇢ Word Count: 3.8k ⇢ Rating: M ⇢ Genre: Smut, PWP, Coworkers to Lovers, a lil bit of fluff ⇢ Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, teasing, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstilulation, dom!jimin, sub!reader ⇢ Banner made by @hobiance​ ⇢ A/N: thank you @jinterlude​ for beta reading this and @jinned​ for hyping me up always ily ily ily ♡ (the end is not edited so sorry rip) ⇢ Written for BHQ’s Bangtan Boardwalk Summer Collab

Working at the Big Kahuna hasn’t always been such a breeze. During the busy season, customers are in and out of here, renting jet-skis, paddle boards, and kayaks alike, all day long. 

It's a little blue hut right on the water, a walk-up window that you sit behind overlooking a wooden dock. It’s small inside the hut, just enough room for you and one other person to work a shift, but it’s cozy, and the view is unbeatable, so you don’t really mind. The sandy beach surrounding you holds a plethora of water-sports equipment, ready for rental and just dying to be used at this point. 

But now it's late in the season, the weather is cooling down, and fewer people have been showing up. It doesn’t quite matter to you, though. Fewer customers mean less work, and the less there is to do here, the better. 

You’d think it’d get boring with nothing to do, but with a coworker like Park Jimin, things are always interesting. To be frank, he’s a flirt. But so are you, which is why working here this summer has been nothing short of a dream. 

The flirtatious banter between you goes no further than just innocent teasing. It’s just something to keep you occupied while you get through your shift. Not that you’re complaining, though. If it did ever go somewhere further, you would not be mad about it. He’s hot, and you’re both young and single, so something’s bound to happen. You can cut the lingering sexual tension with a knife, and the longer you’re around each other, the thicker said tension gets. 

So far today, there have only been two customers; a dad and his son who came in a few hours ago to rent out a couple of jet skis. When things are slow around here, the two of you seem to match the energy. It takes twice as long to clean up after people leave with twice the amount of energy expected just to complete a simple task. All you want to do is sit on your stool behind the counter and look pretty – nothing more, nothing less.

But even though the customers left over two hours ago, Jimin has yet to clean off the jet-skis. After losing a close match of ‘rock paper scissors’ the daunting task now belongs to him. And even though the equipment probably won’t be used for the rest of the day, it still bothers you that Jimin has been pushing off the task for so long.

All he’s doing is sitting on the stool next to you and messing around on his phone. Every once in awhile, he’ll snap a quick selfie, pushing his hair back with one hand and adjusting his look for the camera. He’s probably Snapchatting another random girl, whatever lucky lady has the pleasure of having his attention for the day. Not that you’re jealous or anything...

“So are you gonna clean those jet-skis or..?” Your voice is passive-aggressive, slightly taunting, and that bothers Jimin.

His eyes roll back into his head, a deep exhale leaving his mouth, “Yeah, when I feel like it.” A sly smirk grows on his lips, knowing his careless words and procrastinating actions are driving you up the wall.

Now it's your turn for your eyes to roll back into your head. You are just about to stand up and grab a rag to clean them yourself, but you will not let Park Jimin get his way again.

That’s how working with him went. It’s like he knows he has some kind of mindless control over you, that you’ll just pick up his slack once he flashes you with his pearly whites. Damn him and his little crooked tooth that makes your heart twist a bit more than you’d like to admit. 

“Can you just wipe off the jet-skis already? You did lose the bet.” 

Your tone is kinder this time, adding a head tilt to make you seem a bit more friendly. He doesn’t buy it.

“Be careful ordering me around like that. Keep it up, and I’ll have to show you who’s actually in charge.”

There he goes again with the suggestive flirting. Except his actions never follow through. He just throws words like that out there, making your knees weak to rile you up. That’s half of the fun. The other half is watching you try to muster up some confidence to respond while your face flushes and legs squeeze together.

“You’re bluffing.” You roll your eyes once more. Part of you thinks that he is, but that deep-seated desire for him is nearly at its peak. And the small tinge of hope you have that he’s being serious suddenly becomes not so little – right at the moment, his feet begin pacing over to you.

“Am I?”

The left corner of his mouth lifts upwards, his eyes growing dark and eerie as he gets closer and closer. You swallow thickly, your heart beating faster as he approaches you. Without realizing, your legs clamp shut, squeezing together for dear life to ease the throbbing ache of your pussy as Jimin slowly closes the distance between you. And before you know it, you’re standing up from your stool; your heart caught in your throat as your mouth runs dry.

So badly you want to hold your ground. To keep yourself back from jumping his bones, grabbing the back of his neck to crash your lips into his. But you need restraint. He’s the one who's bluffing; he’s the one that has to make the move.

“M-mhm,” you hum, saving yourself the embarrassment of actually trying to speak in a state like this. 

His hot breath fans across your cheeks and deep breaths pass his plump lips as he stands just inches away from you. Being this close to him is too intimidating for your liking. You're trying your best to keep your stance, but your knees are quaking, and your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it.

But the closer he leans in, the quicker your heart begins to race.

“How about now?” He whispers over your lips, just a hair’s width away from brushing over them. Instantly, your eyes flutter shut, inhaling deeply to regain your composure and to get a grip on your sanity. If you let yourself go for one second, you’ll fall into him – but that’s what he wants.

“Mhm,” you repeat, too afraid to open your lips in fear they’ll touch his. Not because you’re scared to kiss him, but because you are too damn stubborn to be the one to kiss him.

You feel a gust of air push onto your lips as an airy chuckle leaves his mouth, “Cute.”

You swear your heart skips a beat when he says it, how he says it. His voice is low and seductive, dripping with lust and drawing you in, capturing your attention though you aren’t even looking at him. But even still, you're immersed with the thought of him. The predicting thoughts of the feeling of his lips on yours, and the soft texture of his light brown hair as your hands card through it.

It’s getting harder to hold back and stand your guard each time a soft breath lands on your lips. The sweet smell of his cologne overwhelming your sense of smell as heat from his body radiates onto you. 

But suddenly, you find yourself not holding back any longer; your will power rapidly decreases as his hands rest on your waist. And when he tightens his grip around you, it's game over.

That strength you’ve been gripping onto for dear life is gone. Your lips crash into his in a heated kiss, his mouth instantly moving steadily against yours. They’re so much softer than they look, his pillowy lips encasing yours while his hands pull your body tightly into his own. His tongue soon traces over your bottom lip before he catches it between his teeth, tugging on it slightly in a way that drives you wild. 

A stiffness forms beneath his shorts, pushing right against your body as he pulls you into him. Arousal quickly floods between your legs at the feeling, a needy moan vibrating past your lips and onto his. You’ve waited too long for this, the whole summer aching to feel his body pressed up against yours like this. And now you can barely hold it together just from a passionate make-out session – you’ve already soaked through your bikini bottoms, and he’s barely touched you.

But once his fingers find the hem of your shirt, you know this isn’t the furthest it's going to go. Internally, you’re singing praises, thanking whatever higher power allowed you to be in this position and this very moment.

And just when he’s about to pull away and rip the clothing off your body, he remembers where the two of you are. Quickly, his hands leave your body as he races over to the shack window. You roll your lips into your mouth, savoring the taste of him on you as you watch him reach for the heavy overhead door to shut. He closes the metal gate with a rough grunt, the slam of the door onto the countertop echoing through the small hut. And just like that, the room is filled with darkness, only a tiny beam of sunlight making its way through a small window in the back.

The sound of footsteps shuffling back in your direction calls you back in. Jimin’s figure appears again in front of you, the small amount of light peeking into the hut bouncing off his slender form. He’s just inches from you, but the sexual tension in the atmosphere feels like a million pounds weighing down on you.

Jimin’s hands reach back for your top, pulling it over your head in one swift motion. He wastes no time removing his own shirt, your hands effortlessly reaching out for him, running your fingers down his defined torso. His skin is hot, whether it's from the temperature outside or the building heat within him is up to your interpretation – but you’d like to think of it as the latter.

As he leans back into you your heart flutters, the now-familiar feeling of his breath washing over your lips comforting you.

“Fuck,” Jimin hums over your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His hand wanders down under your thigh, gripping the muscle while lifting your leg with his strong arm. His body presses into yours, feeling the rough outline of his cock through his swim trunks right over your core. You’re dripping; arousal seeping right through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms and onto your cotton shorts that do absolutely nothing to conceal your desire. 

He can feel it for himself once his fingers graze down your body, finally meeting the flimsy fabric covering your core. Jimin’s digits flatten across the area, dragging them across your slit ever so slowly, making you shudder at his touch. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as he applies some pressure, pressing and rubbing your clit through the material of your shorts. You let your head fall back, bucking your hips into his hand to feel more, but the layers between you keep you from getting what you desire. 

You’re too needy for his touch, unable to withstand much teasing before crying out for him. “Jimin,” you whine, “stop teasing me, please.” Your voice is high pitched and drawn out, begging for him to just rip the remaining clothing off your body.

“Hmm,” he hums, satisfied with your begging. “Tell me what you want.”

A knot forms in your throat, desperate enough to keep begging, but your pride prevents you from letting any words out. Your body language should be enough, pressing yourself further into him and raking your fingers up his back and running your fingers through his hair to try and entice him. 

“With your words,” he says firmly, stopping the movement of his hand over your core. You keen into his touch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you’re unable to look him dead in the eye. Not while you’re so desperate and needy for him, and not before you’re about to admit it.

“Jimin,” you whine again, dragging out the last syllable of his name for greater emphasis. “Want your fingers inside me.”

He smirks in response, satisfied with your words. “Already so wet for me,” you shiver as a deep, lust-filled voice leaves Jimin’s lips, his fingers slowly pulling the fabric of your shorts to the side. It sounds different from his normal voice; usually light and airy, something you could pick out of a crowd. But this was a whole different Jimin – one that you certainly like.

The cool air meets your soaked core, giving you a quick chill. Instinctively, you lean into him, the shiver running down your spine as his fingers begin to circle your entrance making it hard for you to stand up straight. 

But all you can focus on is his erect member now rubbing against your thigh as the pads of his fingers smeared the wetness along your slit. Your eyes are sewn shut, your head digging deep into his neck as your only supporting leg quivers.

You’re so sensitive to his touch, it’s becoming difficult to control your body. Your eyes are closed so tight you can see stars dancing behind your eyelids, just focused on the feeling of his fingers dancing along your core. As his fingers work their way upwards, a high pitched moan leaves your throat. It catches you off guard once he begins rolling your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly, making you keen over in pleasure.

“Fuck, Jimin. Feels so good,” your fingers grip the roots of his hair, tugging and pulling at it to ground yourself. But once his lips begin moving over your neck and his hand supporting your lifted leg tightens, you can’t help but let out a wanton moan.

You find yourself grinding down onto Jimin’s fingers, needy for more of him, and yearning to feel him inside of you. You’ve already asked once, you already feel like you could come right now and he hasn't even been inside you yet. 

He can read your body language well, bringing his fingers to trace the extent of your slit back until they meet your entrance once more. Swiftly, he dips two fingers into the arousal that's pooling from your core. Finally. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as just his digits carefully caress your walls. The slow movement of his fingers plunging into your depths takes your breath away in an instant.

The bulge rubbing against your leg is doing nothing but teasing you. Each time his finger slides in and out of you he ruts into you, begging to be touched. You pick up on this, snaking your hand between your bodies to palm at the evident cock outline he's sporting. A sudden gasp leaves his lips at the feeling, his eyebrows raising in succession as his cock jumps in your grip.

His movements stop as you squeeze his member, now unable to focus at the task at hand with you teasing him like this. A rough grunt leaves his lips, removing his fingers from your core instantly. You immediately feel empty and bare without them inside you. So your jaw drops, confused and ready to ask what his deal is – but Jimin has other plans.

His hand holding your leg up quickly leaves your thigh. You don’t even have time to react before his hands are gripping your waist, spinning your body around, and bending you over the desk as he steps behind you. Air is sucked out of your lungs as your chest meets the wooden desk, cheek pressed onto the hard surface as Jimin harshly grips your hips.

“Such a tease,” he shakes his head, one hand coming down to leave a playful slap on your ass. You wince in reaction, the quick tinge of pain turning into pleasure. Arousal floods from your core as his hand rubs over the affected area, soothing the skin over the material of your clothes.

Jimin’s fingers loop themselves over the waistband of your shorts and under your bikini bottoms, tugging them downward. He doesn’t bother to even take them off fully, just shimmies them halfway down your thighs so that he has full access to your dripping pussy.

He’s quick to slide his swim trunks off his body, his fully erect member springing from the confines of the fabric. Your heart is pounding in your chest, heaving as you try to catch your breath. But he’s not one to wait, wrapping his hand around his shaft and pumping it a few times before lining it up at your entrance.

You brace yourself for his length, but it doesn’t come. You’re desperate, arching your back in attempts to push him inside of you, but he just shifts his weight backward.

“Ask nicely.” 

His voice is stern; teasing but direct. Rolling your eyes, you give in, unwilling to play another game of cat and mouse while he already has you bent over and ready for the taking.

“Please Jimin,” you moan, “please fuck me.” Leg bouncing impatiently as you wait for him, he lines himself up with your entrance once more. The light pressure of his tip pressed against you makes you stir, bouncing your leg in anticipation as your hands look for something to grip onto.

A steep gasp passes through your lips as his cock slides itself into you; your velvety walls squeezing the veiny ridges of his member as you take him in. He’s thick and long, his length continuing to push into you until you’re filled to the brim. 

You can’t help but clench down on him as you adjust to his size, your walls squeezing his thick cock as he bottoms out his thrust. A string of curses leaves his lips as your walls squeeze around him from every angle. The arousal spilling from your cunt coats his cock deliciously. 

Jimin’s hands quickly find their place on your hips, holding you steady as he begins to rock backward. His cock slides in and out of you slowly but forcefully. He makes sure to bottom out each time, taking his time to pull out and then slam himself into you with such force.

“So fucking tight,” he moans, his thrusts beginning to quicken in pace. Your arms extend before you, gripping onto the edge of the desk to keep yourself steady. His powerful thrusts fail to subside, the force he rocks into you causing his member to prod your g-spot.

The sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat fill your ears. Soft whines bubble past your lips with each thrust, his power shaking you and the desk underneath you.

Smoothly, Jimin’s hand reaches downward, snaking between your legs and gathering your arousal on his fingertips. His fingers graze over your clit gently, immediately making your body jerk in reaction. Slight pressure is added by his hand, soon to make a slow rubbing motion.

“So...close…” you manage to get out while you pant for air. You can feel a knot tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap if he keeps on like this.

“Cum on my cock, princess” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The pet name is what gets you, your walls already beginning to spasm as he applies more pressure to your clit. 

Euphoria takes hold on you as you release, your vision becoming fuzzy as your body grows limp. Jimin pushes you through it, his fingers continually moving over your throbbing bud as you release over him. Your legs shake, the strength of your orgasm so strong you lose all control of your body. His name leaves your lips like a mantra, chanting it over and over with curses intertwined. 

It takes you a bit to come down, oversensitivity quickly setting in as Jimin’s trusts continue. His fingers are more gentle now, lightly toying with your clit as you do your best to try and swat his hand away. But you’re too lethargic, too drawn out from your orgasm that took all your strength away from you.

“One more,” he says, “doing so good for me.”

And soon enough that familiar knot in your stomach was making its way back to you, if it ever left in the first place. The repetitive tap of Jimin’s tip deep inside you has you so far gone; your pussy clenching and unclenching around him completely out of your control. 

But it's getting to him too. The added lubricant of your orgasm mixed with the squeezing of your walls around his cock is bringing him close to his own end.

“Gonna...come,” he moans, his hands leaving your overstimulated clit to grip onto your hips. The pace of his thrusts quickens, his brow furrowing deeply as he focuses on chasing his high.

All it takes is one powerful thrust, and you were coming undone around him once again. “Fuck, fuck!” You nearly scream, pushing back into him to meet his thrusts, helping him through an orgasm of his own.

The everlasting sensation of bliss takes over the both of you. Jimin’s thrusts grow languid and sloppy, his torso slowly falling on top of your back. You lie like this for a moment, letting him collapse over you and feel the heat of his body radiate onto yours. It feels nice, close having him inside you like this while his arms wrap around you in silence.

“We should've done this sooner,” his voice breaks through the quiet room. A small smile forms on your lips as you internally agree, showing him with a nod of your head. 

Slowly, he stands up, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling empty for the second time today. A mixture of your and his cum dribbles out of your cunt, Jimin noticing and quickly swiping it up with his finger. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, watching his movements closely to see what he’ll do next.

Swiftly, his hand finds its way to his mouth, his digit slipping past his lips as he licks the juices from it. Your jaw drops in reaction, his finger leaving his mouth with a soft pop of his lips.

He notices you gawking at him, raising his eyebrows as you suggestively in response. “I’d like to try it right from the source next time.”

A slight chuckle leaves your lips, in disbelief while still being very turned on. “Next time.” You hum, liking the sound of that as it leaves your mouth.

“There will be a next time, won't there?” Except his question comes across as more of a statement, his tone firm and gestures sturdy while he reaches for his swim trunks to pull back up.

You follow his actions, standing back onto your shaky legs to pull your swimsuit bottoms and shorts up in one quick motion. There will definitely be a next time.

‘Bluff’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Park Here

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut

Naughty Date Night Series

The red and white 1955 Chevy Bel Air stood out among the slick black and sliver sports cars in the garage. A wide smile crossed your face. “Perfect.”

“Told you I could rent one.” Tony grinned. He held out a black case. “Here’s the rest. Just set it on the ground, open it up and press the power button. I’ve already put the micro speakers inside the car.”

You pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re the best.”

“I just dig the idea.” He laughed. “I may have to steal it later and claim it as my own.”

Rolling your eyes, you took the case and the keys. As you placed the case behind the passenger seat of the Chevy, you inquired. “How long until Steve’s training sessions are done?”

“They’re scheduled to go until five.”

An hour and a half. Plenty of time. “Excellent. Thanks.”

Steve entered the suite with a smile and call of your name. His smile widened when you came out of the bedroom wearing a cheery sundress that buttoned all the way down the front and slip on sandals with just a little heel. Wearing little make up, hair loose, you’d dressed fresh and simple just like he preferred.  

“Well, hello beautiful.” He beamed, his large hands cupping your cheeks and mouth covering yours in a sweet kiss.  

“Hi, handsome.” You gazed up at him. “I pulled a note out of the jar.”

“And?”  

“It said, ‘take time for an old fashion dinner and a movie’. So I’ve made some plans.”  

“I take it we’re not staying in.” His hands dropped to your hips.  

“Correct. But we’re not going anywhere fancy either.” You licked your lips. “No need to change out of your tee shirt and jeans.”

“Okay then, let me get my keys.” Steve’s soft lips pressed against your temple.  

“Ah, no.” You took his hands in yours. “We’re not taking your car. I got us a different ride for tonight.”

A slow smirk grew across his face. “Alright. I’ll follow your lead.”

“I like the sound of that.” You grinned. 

When you led him to the red and white classic, Steve laughed with delight. He took the keys from you and held the door open. As you slid in, he kissed your hand.

Settling behind the wheel, Steve grinned over. “So where to?”

The drive-in served thick messy burgers with piping hot fries. You laughed and talked, easily ignoring everyone around. Steve grinned as you licked salt from your fingers. You giggled as he took your hand and kissed the back of your knuckles. The tip of his tongue slipped out and his eyes promised all kinds of pleasure.  

“What time is this movie we’re going to?”  

You looked at the darkening sky. “Soon. It’s should be just about right once get there.”

“There isn’t a scheduled time.” Steve frowned.  

“Hey,” you nudged him. “Trust me. Remember?”

“Absolutely.” Steve grinned.  

As you drove through the darkness, at every turn you told Steve to make, he would raise an eyebrow and smirk at you. You’d giggle. “Trust me.”

The parking lot lights were mostly off when you pulled into the empty hanger at the far end of Stark’s flight strip just north of the compound. Steve opened his mouth, but you laughed. “Trust me. Pull around back. There’s a couple traffic cones, park between them.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He drove the car around the the back of the building, the only lights coming from the car and the stars above. He spotted the cones and parked as instructed. “Now what?”

“We watch a movie.” You got out of the car and pulled the case from behind the seat. He watched as you quickly set up the portable projector beside the car. A thirty foot image shone on the white wall of the hanger. The car filled with the sounds of the opening credits of the film.

Slipping back into the car, you moved all the way over on the bench seat until you were curled against Steve’s chest. He was grinning like a fool. “A drive in movie. You set up a drive in move for me.”

“It’s an entire American staple that you missed.”  

His palm turned your face to meet his. “You’re incredible.”

Steve kissed you slow as the opening to Hitchcock’s Rear Window began to play on the screen. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer. So, you snuggle up and get comfortable in his arms.  

After a few moments Steve’s lips ghosted against your ear, “It’s really not fair. You know I don’t like scary movies.”

You giggled. “Captain America scared by an Alfred Hitchcock movie?”  

“He’s terrifying.” Steve chuckled.  

“You can hold on to me during the frightening bits.”  

A devilish grin spread over his face. Steve shifted you around, guiding your leg over his lap. The bucket seat in the old car left plenty of room. He grinned like a kid at Christmas as he began to unbutton your sundress.  

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” You giggled, hands tracing over his strong shoulders.  

“Distracting myself during the scary parts.” Steve answered, face not quite serious. He moved aside your dress to cup your breasts through the lace of your bra.

You rocked your hips into him. “It just started. Nothing scary has happened yet.”

“Not the point.” Steve wet mouth laid hot kisses against your neck. “Hitchcock is terrifying. You need to protect me.”  

You laughed, fingers raking through his hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp. He practically purred. One of his hands bunched up the skirt of your dress, pulling it free to give him full access to your thighs. His thumb rubbed along the inside of your thigh, moving closer and closer to your core.

Taking his face in your hands, you kissed him. He rutted up against your warmth as you gently sucked his lower lip and ran your tongue along his.  

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He gasped. “Do you want to keep these?” His fingers tugged at your barely there panties. You shook your head and Steve tore them at the hips. His fingers slipped between your folds. “Mmm, so wet.”

You tugged blindly at his belt while nipping the edge of his jaw. You opened his jeans, tugging them down just enough to release him. “Been thinking about fucking you in this car all day.”

“Hell, yes.” Steve groaned as your fingers wrapped around his cock. He kissed you hard, a growl rumbling up from chest. “Is that what you need? Need me fuck you hard? Make this car rock until you scream?”

God. He made you melt when he used that tone of voice. “Please.”

“Move here, baby.” Steve manhandled you onto the bench seat beside him. He placed you on your knees, leaning over the seat facing back. Lifting your skirt, he massages his fingers into your ass. “Gorgeous.”

You bit back a whimper as his fingers slipped into you. Gripping the back of the seat, your head tipped as Steve’s nipped at base of your neck as he put a knee on the seat and curled beside you. A shiver slipped down your back. Wet sloppy sounds filled the car as he pumped in his fingers in you cunt. In the confines of the car, your panting and the heat of your bodies quickly steamed the windows.  

“Steve,” you whined. “God, so close.”  

Reaching back, you wrapped your fingers around his cock. Steve groan, tongue running along the curve of your ear. He felt your cunt clench around his fingers. “Fuck, yes, sweetheart.”

Your thighs shook. The tension low in your belly tightened. Fire bloomed, burning out to your toes. Your cried out. Steve held you close, mouth locked onto your shoulder, hand working you through your orgasm.  

Steve pushed his jeans further down and curled behind you. The head of his cock easily slid through your wetness, filling you. “Oh fuck!”

His arm wrapped around your middle, and his other hand gripped the back of the seat beside you. Steve began to pound into you, hard and fast. You cried out, over sensitive nerves exploding. He growled, drowning in the feel of you. The sound and smell of sex filled the car.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes.” Steve chanted. You began to quake. His fingers pulled at your nipple. You exploded. Steve grabbed your shoulder plunging harder into your release. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You came hard, flooding over his cock, letting out a scream. It drove him over the edge. His hips snapped, pushing in hard, filling you. “Holy shit.”

You felt boneless. Slick ran down your thighs. Muscles twitched. Steve rolled back onto the seat, pulling you into his lap. Your face buried in his neck, breathing in the scent of him. His hand traced up and down your thigh. After a moment he chuckled.

“What?” You sounded drunk.

“We never even made it to the back seat.” He grinned. “Are we supposed to do that in the back seat?”

“Hmm. Probably.” You giggled.

“Well, let’s start the movie over and move to the back.” His voice rumbled in your hair. “You may have to save me from the scary parts again.”

TAGS

@acf2510 / @asiaaisa77​ / @babygurl8840​ / @badassbaker​ / @bangtan-serendipity​ / @beautifullungs​ / @buchanansebba​ / @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ / @cashewsaremyfavourite​ / @daughterofthenight117​ / @dsakita​ / @geeksareunique​ / @imma-new-soul​ / @jennmurawski13​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @kiki5283​ / @lbouvet​ / @lovely-lollipops-blog​ / @mcubabydotcom​ / @messenough​ / @michelehansel​ / @mindtravelsx / @morganhoran1671 / @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ / @night-cereus​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @patzammit​ / @rainbowkisses31​ / @readermia​ / @rynabarnesrogers​ / @sammghgecko / @scarlettsoldier​ / @sebbysstangirl​ / @sexyvixen7​ / @sllooney​ / @thegetawaywriter​  / @theneuropsychwriter​ / @the-omni-princess​ / @the-reading-octopus​ / @thorfanficwriter​ / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @vanillabunn21​ / @vxidnik​ / @what-is-your-plan-today​ / @wildmoonflower​ / @wwe-fanfiction-queen​ / @girlmadeofivory​ / @buckybarnesplumwhore​

[joontier]

occupied | drabble

–> Pairings: hoseok x reader

–> Rating:  R

–> Genre/warnings: slight hints of e2l; SMUT (dom! Hobi; toilet sex; choking; groping; daddy kink; fingering; slight exhibitionism)

–> Word count: 926

–> A/N: EEEEP Hope u enjoy this Dylan!! we’re all suckers for dom hobi am i rite or am i rite AYE JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH THAT ITS TURNED INTO A WIP ASDFASDF

–> Request: @dylanxmin​ said “for the drabble & drinks game, can i get hoseok + cocktail please🙌🏻 (maybe a little dom!hobi👀👀) thank you ♡”

Part of bangtanhq drinks and drabbles challenge!!  and hosted by @bangtan-dreamland​ 

bts m.list | navi

You weave your way through the crowd, heading for the majestic doors. Finally managing to open them with a herculean effort, you adjust your dress and walk towards the toilets. When you reach the narrow hallway, somebody pushes your back against the wall, one hand on your mouth to muffle any sound coming from it. You breathe a sigh of relief when you realize your captor is far from dangerous.

“Jeez Hoseok. No need to manhandle me here.”

“I thought you like being manhandled?” He raises a brow, checking the main hallway if someone’s watching. “Yes, in the bedroom. Not in public, asshole.” He doesn’t say another word when he drags you to the men’s room, abruptly locking the door with a click.  

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask, standing awkwardly in front of the sink. Your eyes narrow at him, “Right here, now?”

“What do you think you’re doing, hm?” Hoseok echoes, his eyes trailing up and down your figure. You’d opted for a low-back, thigh-slit red dress, all your curves and assets on full display. Gotta flaunt the goodies from time to time. You knew exactly what you were doing.

“I don’t think now is the right time to play dumb, sweetheart.” Your heartrate skips a beat at the pet name. Hoseok’s voice is more gravelly than usual, the sound causing a chill to run through your spine. “Flirting with another man like that, brushing invisible crumbs off his shoulders…” Hoseok began, fingers caressing your cheeks. “…while exposing your other leg to the entire party like the greedy little tease that you are.” Your breath hitches as you feel the coldness of the rings of his fingers wrap around your throat. His fingers squeeze lightly, gauging your reaction.

“We’re not exclusive. Remember that, Hoseok?” The man’s heart clenches at your words, the weight of the truth behind your words taking its toll. Curse this world. Curse this fucking family. Of course, the heirs to rivaling family businesses was a thing that could never be. He already knew this sort of arrangement with you was doomed from the start.

There’s a part of him that wants to know, if perhaps, deep down in your heart, there may be a small chance that you feel the same. The smirk on your lips is telling that he has nothing else to hope for – not from this relationship, not from you. But he wasn’t going to let his guard down now, not when he’s painfully hard under these tight trousers, or that he’s already fallen in too deep.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me. Remember that, kitten?” His fingers squeeze tighter around your neck. “Yes,” you whimper, squirming under his grip against the door. Hoseok is merely inches from your face now, the familiar scent of your favorite cologne on him hits your nose, ultimately driving you crazy.

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“That’s my girl.” Hoseok winks at you, hands grabbing your waist to pull you closer. His lips come down on you, kissing you like he’s been starved of it. You groan into his mouth, your hands snaking to the back of his head to deepen the kiss. Your insides are burning with fire, every fiber of your body ablaze with desire.

You whimper as he turns you around to face the mirror, Hoseok reveling in your blissed-out expression in such a short amount of time, even when all you’d been doing was kiss each other. Could this be a sign? He pushes his feelings into the back of his head, deft hands squeezing your thigh in all its glory.

“Look at yourself in the mirror baby girl, all worked up…all because of me, yeah?” Hoseok whispers in your ear, his wet lips peppering kisses all over your neck. He sucks at a spot where your neck meets your shoulder, leaving a red mark that will probably bruise tomorrow.

He tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you closer to him so he could grind his arousal pressing insistently against your ass. Keening at the sensation, you shamelessly push back, mouth forming into an ‘o’ as he palms your breasts through your dress.

Hoseok’s lips form into a smile when his fingers slide through the slit of your dress, pleasantly surprised at your decision to go sans-underwear tonight. “So wet, just for her daddy.” Your body quivers with want when he finds your clit with ease, drawing circles with his digits. Feeling a jolt of pleasure when he pushes one finger inside you, and gradually sliding in another one, you moan wantonly, drawling out a breathy ‘fuck’ as he continues his abuse.

You feel that delicious knot forming into your stomach, your whimpers goading on Hoseok to continue. Your body convulses when his digits quicken the pace, and all of a sudden, you’re coming undone, intense pleasure leaving your body quaking in its wake.

Turning around to face Hoseok, you attach your lips with Hoseok’s, your own hands, trailing south to palm his erection through his pants. You pull away to say something, but another person beats you to it.

“Are you done there?!” a man’s voice calls from behind the door, fists banging on the wooden panel.

“It’s occupied, can’t you see?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. Common sense wasn’t common after all. You cover your mouth as a giggle escapes you, the reality of having toilet sexcapades with Hoseok finally dawning on you. You place a kiss on his cheek, leaving the now warm toilet with a promise of a continuation upstairs.

All rights reserved. hhyungz 2020

[fresh-outta-jams]

Plastic Heart - Part 5

Namjoon x Reader Author: Mo Summary: When you get the highly-anticipated BTS dolls for Christmas, your life takes a turn in a way you never could have expected. Note: Here we go, guys! Finally, a real interaction between them lmao. Warnings: None? It’s pretty damn fluffy tho. Word Count: 1.5k

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

It hurt Namjoon’s little plastic heart to see you so scared of him. He never wanted this. He never wanted to see you literally quaking in fear, one second away from passing out on the spot.

It was quiet while he thought and you sat there shivering. Yoongi looked to him to say something, anything. He was maybe the only one of them that would be able to talk some sense into you before you threw them into a recycling bin or donated them to a thrift store. The other six, who had moved into an upright position somewhere on the dresser, were all depending on him. So, he did what leaders do, and he gave it his best shot.

“So uh, first of all, we’re not going to hurt you. There are some scary movies that give toys, dolls especially, a bad reputation for that sort of thing, but that’s just a stereotype and it’s mostly ventriloquists and porcelain dolls that are like that anyway.”

“Creepy.” You shuddered.

“Maybe don’t talk about that, genius.” Hoseok shook his head. Of course Namjoon would get nervous talking to his crush. Why would they let him do the talking?

“Right. So, um...I’m sorry, I’ve just...never talked to a human before.” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. What was this new emotion he was feeling? This jittery one that made him want to explode?

“W-well, if it makes you feel any better, this is my first...interaction like this too. I mean, when I was little I used to talk to my dolls, but they...well, they never t-talked back…” The fact that you were starting to talk a little more was encouraging. Maybe Namjoon could gently nudge you out of your shell. Baby steps.

“We toys, we, uh, we aren’t supposed to talk to our humans. It usually scares them off...I’m really sorry we scared you. We never meant to. You mean a lot to us.”

“Namjoon wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said our whole lives revolve around you.” Yoongi added, and Namjoon nodded.

“Wait, so, are ALL toys alive?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. The pieces were slowly starting to come together, this world he was opening you up to. Your fear was gradually fading, being replaced instead with curiosity.

“Yeah, for the most part.” He confirmed, making your heart sink and soar simultaneously. “There are a few exceptions. Board games aren’t alive, neither are playing cards or dice, marbles and bouncy-balls aren’t. The basic rule of thumb is: if it has a face, it’s alive.”

“I feel very guilty all of a sudden.” You sighed, running through memories upon memories of all of your beloved childhood toys. Sure, some of them were still back home at your parents’ place, but most of them had been sold at garage sales, donated to your little cousins, or sold on Ebay. Yikes…

“Don’t feel too bad about it. That’s just how it works for us.” Jin tried to be reassuring, but that didn’t make their grim circle of life any less devastating when you looked at the reality of it all. “We know you don’t mean it. We understand.”

“That makes me feel a little bit better…”

“Again, we’re really sorry for scaring you, (Y/N).” Namjoon smiled softly. “And we’re sorry we kind of just...ruined your whole childhood.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m really sorry for sneezing.” Taehyung hung his head, letting out a little sigh. If it wasn’t for him, they wouldn’t be in this wild rule-breaking mess. They’d still have their secret and be safe. Now, even though you seemed like you were cool with it at the moment, they were vulnerable, and it was all his fault.

“It’s okay, Tae.” You reassured him. “Really, I…I think I’m going to be okay, I just...need some time to think about everything.”

“If you have any questions, you can ask, alright? I think we at least owe that to you.”

“Do you...you can see and hear, obviously, but, uh, do your other senses work? Smell, taste, touch?”

“Not really. We can’t eat food, so we don’t have a reason to taste things, and we’re made of plastic, so we don’t really feel anything either.”

“We can smell, but it’s pretty faint.” Jimin added.

“Weird.” You thought about what that would be like, to be alive, but not really LIVING. “And so toy stores must be like little prisons for you, right? When are you like aware of everything?”

“For me...I woke up in the toy store. I don’t remember anything about being made or packaged, but I know it must have happened at some point.” Jungkook sounded almost sad when he talked about it, eyes fixed on the floor, not looking at you or any of his brothers. “From then, it was just...lonely every night, hoping every day that someone would choose me, hoping even more that I wouldn’t be alone once someone did.”

You could have about cried. “That’s so sad.”

“Yeah, I...yeah, it is. But that’s just how it is. And then you get a kid and everything is better.”

“I’m sorry you guys didn’t get the full...experience, I guess. I’m not exactly ten years old anymore.”

“And we’re thankful for that, believe me.” Namjoon put his hand on his heart, chuckling. “Dolls like us, especially dolls that are meant to look like celebrities and stuff, we usually get forced into a lot of, uh, romantic situations, for lack of better term. That’s not fun.”

“Oh. Well, I promise I’ll never...put you through that.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi chuckled.

You tried to think of something else to ask them. You were buzzing with questions for sure, or you should have been at least, but none of them would come out; they just stayed inside of you, bumping into one another. For a while there, your fear and excitement and everything had drowned out the symptoms of whatever sickness you’d caught. Now that you were falling back down to earth, though, you were reminded of the pounding pain in your head and the fact that you couldn’t breathe.

“So uh, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m really sick right now, so I’ll probably be home for a few days, if that’s alright.”

“This is literally your apartment. We’re guests here, not the other way around.”

“Right. Yeah. Anyway, if nothing else, it’ll give us--ACHOO!--some time to *sniffle* get to know each other better. I mean, I guess you already kind of know a lot about me…”

“We’d love to get to know you more!” Jimin smiled, perking up excitedly. “I’m Jimin!”

“I know that, Jimin.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you plucked a tissue from the box and blew your nose. “Nice to meet you. Officially, that is.”

Once the others officially introduced themselves, you got up and walked to the kitchen to scour through the medications you had on hand. You had to have something for this congestion. You ended up taking something to minimize the fluids in your face and then smeared some Vicks under your nose for good measure. When you were healthy, you always took breathing for granted, but you would give anything to be able to take a clean breath right now.

“Are you okay?” It was Jin. He must have followed you out to the kitchen. You turned around to look at him and nodded, offering a weak smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Jin. It’s just a cold, I think. ‘Tis the season for that sort of thing.” You shrugged before turning to your Keurig to make some warm tea, which was different from the iced stuff you usually drank, but you needed the steam to open up your pores.

“What are you making?” He asked. You felt him tug on your pantleg and bent down to help him up onto the counter.

“Just some tea. It usually helps when I’m feeling sick.”

“Hmm.” He nodded, contemplating it for a second. He watched as you dipped the tea bag into the hot water, letting the leaves steep and darken the liquid surrounding them. He looked up at you after a long patch of quiet. “Thank you. For in there. Anyone else would have freaked out on us.”

“Luckily for you, I’m not ‘anyone else.’” You chuckled. Once the tea was done brewing, you blew on it a bit and took a few tentative sips, careful not to burn your tongue as you had so many times before. “It’s a lot to get used to, but I think I’ll be okay. I’m just gonna need a few days, alright?”

“Of course. Anything for you.” He agreed. You held out your arm for him to grab on, and he climbed up your extended limb, clinging to your shirt and attempting to give you the tiniest hug you’d ever received. “We all love you so much.”

“And I love all of you, too.” You smiled and used your free hand to reciprocate, gently stroking his little back with your fingers. “Don’t worry, Jin. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @lilgaga98, @demonic-meatball, @backtonormalthings, @kbowen9, @honig-bienchen, @coolcat494, @ffantasylandd, @feed-my-geek-soul, @ayoo-bangtan, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @cap-lu20, @finninpoposu, @coldbookworm, @sitkafay

[paladinsuho-moved]

Bangtan Unsolved [sope]

SHIP: Min Yoongi x Jung Hoseok (feat. a little bit of Kim Taehyung)

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst if you squint

WARNINGS: nothing really, if you get creeped out really easily, I wouldn’t recommend reading. swearing, some suggestive language.

moodboard for the fic here and video this fic is based on is here

A/N: hihihi i just really love this ship and i also really love buzzfeed unsolved,, so this is what came out of it, also the fact that it’s october and i’ve been wanting to contribute to the fandom for halloween :0

They arrived at the house around seven o’clock. The sun had already set, but it wasn’t completely dark yet, the sky a deep dark blue.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,Yoongi, we’re here,” Hoseok said, holding the GoPro so it would stay focused on the front door, trying not to let himself shake, because otherwise, the camera would shake as well. “This is it,” He continued, more to the camera than to his boyfriend, “We survived The Belmez House, we made it through Myrtles Plantation, I’ve got my holy water, I’m ready for this final showdown… What about you, hyung?”

No answer. “Hyung?”

He turned to where Yoongi had been standing five seconds earlier, and he let out a slight huff of indignation at the sight of his boyfriend.

“Are you serious?” Hoseok asked, pointing the camera at Yoongi, who was currently taking a selfie with the address number, sticking his tongue out. “Ah, that’s going on Snapchat for sure,” He muttered to himself, and Hoseok cleared his throat to get his attention.

“What?” Yoongi replied once he looked up, “I wanted to get a picture with Satan before he eats us both.”

“Don’t say that, you insufferable fuck,” Hoseok hissed, causing Yoongi to laugh as he put away his phone. Hoseok’s nostrils flared in further indignation, but Yoongi just flashed a gummy smile, causing Hoseok’s indignation to waver.

“You’re cute when you’re scared,” He told him, trying not to laugh.

“Assuming we don’t die tonight, I want a divorce,”

“Hobi, we’re not even married—”

“I’m keeping the dog—”

“Oh, you know I wouldn’t let the dog get away from me. Or you, for that matter, no matter how much of an ‘insufferable fuck’ I am. Now, what were you saying?”

“I said,” Hoseok huffed, “‘I’m ready for this final showdown… What about you, hyung?”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Oh man, I’m ready.”

Hoseok moved the camera again, pointing towards the front door as it had been before. “Ladies and gentlemen, here we are at the Sallie House, in Atchison, Kansas,” Hoseok said, putting on his narrator voice, “A house that is apparently known as ‘the most haunted house in America’, and is reportedly haunted by an actual demon.”

Yoongi nodded toward the front door, dangling the key he’d procured from the landlord a few hours earlier. “Shall we?”

“Wait, I’m building myself up to it.”

Yoongi laughed again, and this time, Hoseok couldn’t resist joining him.

“How about now?” Yoongi asked, trying to contain his laughter, to which Hoseok felt around in his pockets for something. “Wait, wait, I need to get it from the car.”

“Get what from the car?”

“The fucking holy water!” The amount of seriousness that came out of Hoseok’s grinning mouth almost had Yoongi doubling over in laughter. “Go get it then!”

Hoseok handed the GoPro to Yoongi, and he turned the camera to face him.

“Hobi always says ‘joke all you want, but don’t ask for any later’, and, well, okay, I don’t need any!” Yoongi told the camera with a gummy smile, “It’s hilarious. He’s so cute.”

A few seconds later, Hoseok returned, and Yoongi turned the camera to face him, before letting out a shaky breath as he pocketed his little bottle of holy water, before asking, “Oh man, do you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Everybody says that it’s bullshit when you feel energy, but… How do you not feel that? I mean, do you not feel a little bit weird?”

“Hobi, you’re insane. This house feels exactly the same as every other house we’ve been to for the exact same reason: none. of them. are haunted.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, his smile never leaving his face. “Gimme the camera,” The taller boy said, motioning to his boyfriend, and he obliged, and Hoseok began to speak again. “C’mon, let’s get in there! Get it over with!”

Yoongi looked at Hoseok, before looking to the camera, grinning again before promptly opening the screen door.

The door creaked, loudly, and Hoseok let out a soft exasperated whimper. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Honestly, you’d think demons would know how to oil a door,” Yoongi mumbled, trying, once again, not to laugh.

Finally, Yoongi unlocked the door. “SATAN, I’M HOME!” He yelled as he stepped inside.

“Yoongi, I swear to god--”

Yoongi turned on his flashlight by twisting the top, looking around in the dark for a lightswitch.

“Oh, sure,” He said, turning to face the camera as the light landed on a baby stroller next to the staircase, which was to their left, “Way to sell it.”

As Yoongi found a lightswitch and flipped it on, the living room was filled with warm light and Yoongi nodded in admiration. “Do you know what a place like this would cost in LA? Like, an arm and a leg, maybe even a kidney…”

Hoseok shook his head, “You can’t be serious.” “Of course I’m being serious!”

“Can we just tell the story of this house?” Hoseok asked, a laugh leaving him.

“Holy shit, Hoseok, don’t look over here.” Hoseok always had a knack for detecting when his boyfriend was being sarcastic.

“Gee,” He deadpanned, “I wonder why ever not.”

“There’s a little teddy bear over here. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok had been dating for four years, and had been doing the vlog series for two. They were currently somewhere around 2.4 million subscribers on YouTube, hoping to reach three million by the end of the year. The vlog series, Bangtan Unsolved, consisted of them doing one of two things: either recapping the events of a mysterious, unsolved crime, or spending the night in a haunted house.

And while the trailers they put up for every ‘season’ that came out made it look intense and suspenseful, if they had to be honest, at least a solid seventy percent was just them making stupid remarks and wheezing at each other’s taunts, another twenty percent was Hoseok telling Yoongi to fuck off, and the remaining ten percent was legitimate inexplicable occurrences.

They’d spent their nights in places like Myrtles Plantation in Louisiana, they’d spent another around a New Jersey forest, looking for the Jersey Devil, another one in Suicide Forest in Japan. Their most popular video, when they’d gone to The Belmez House in Spain, had gone viral all because Yoongi had decided to jokingly announce “hey demons, it’s me, ya boy.”

At the moment, Hoseok had laughed and rolled his eyes before calling him an idiot, but if he’d known that it would cause his boyfriend to turn into a living meme, he would’ve asked him to say it ages ago.

A few minutes later, after they’d turned on all the lights to the set up the equipment, they sat on the couch, facing the camera as Hoseok looked over the folder containing the history of the house he’d typed up the days before they’d flown to Kansas.

Yoongi looked at Hoseok before he turned the camera on. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His voice was serious, staring at the brown-haired boy. “We can leave whenever you want, if you don’t feel comfortable--”

“I’m fine, hyung. I may feel like I’m about to piss my pants, but you know I want to do this… sort of.”

Yoongi nodded, before gripping Hoseok’s hand in his. “If you say so.”

And with that, he turned on the camera.

“We’re back!” Yoongi raised his arms, flashing the camera a smile. “We’ve set up our equipment and our sleeping bags in the living room of Sallie House, where Hobi and I plan to spend the night--”

“For some stupid reason,” Hoseok remarked, shaking his head with a smile, and he felt Yoongi’s hand squeeze his in reassurance, “I’ve lived my life with only one rule, and that is: don’t fuck with demons, but here I am anyway… Shall we get started?”

“Go on! Tell your spooky story. I love watching you squirm.” Yoongi wiggled his eyebrows, moving his eyes from his boyfriend to the camera. The only way he could’ve made a more obvious innuendo was if he held up a sign that said: WE’RE BONING!!!

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I didn’t even swear. Go on, tell the story.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, before beginning to tell the story of the house.

“Located at 508 North Second Street in Atchison, Kansas, the Sallie House is the ultimate haunted house, and is widely considered to be the most haunted house in America. Built between 1867 and 1871, the house has had three deaths inside its walls: Michael Finney in 1872, William True in 1918, and Agnes True in 1939. And while the deaths have probably added to the house’s ghostly inhabitants, the real evil comes from something much different.

“While most residents have reported feeling paranormal activity, it wasn’t until the 1990s when Tony and Debra Pickman moved in that things took a turn for the sinister. What follows is based on their firsthand account of what started off as a small haunting but ended up becoming a living nightmare.”

“The Pickmans moved into the house on December 31st, 1992. The haunting started small: lights in the house would dim, the dog would bark incessantly at the entrance to the nursery, and their newborn baby would wake up every hour. In Debra Pickman’s words, quote ‘As if someone was playing with him’ unquote. The Pickmans’ neighbor could see the window of the nursery from her house, and eventually asked Debra why she kept the nursery light on all night long with the baby sleeping in there. This question came as an icy shock to Debra , who always turned the light off.”

“Oh snap,” Yoongi murmured sarcastically, causing Hoseok to break seriousness and laugh.

“That’s a little bit weird, don’t you think?” Hoseok asked, laughing again, and Yoongi shrugged, nodding a second later. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Anyways. Things got especially weird on July 14th, 1993, when Debra , Tony, and her sister Karen discovered all the stuffed animals in the nursery arranged into a neat circle, back to back, all on the floor. The three of them figured it was one of them playing a practical joke; so they put the animals back, turned off the light and went downstairs. To their horror, when they returned, not only was the light on, but a bear was knocked off its chair, lying on its back on the floor.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to laugh, causing Hoseok to look at him with confusion. “‘Oh no, we better leave the house, someone knocked the bear out of his little wicker chair!”

“What, are you saying you wouldn’t be, I don’t know, a little bit unnerved if you found a bunch of stuffed animals arranged into a little cult circle?”

“If the bear we saw when we walked in here was there then yes. Little fucker gave me the willies.” Yoongi’s sarcasm was spot on, causing Hoseok to rub his temples, trying not to give into the urge to laugh.

“MOVING ON. After that, like any normal person would, they packed up some stuff, took their baby, and left the house to stay with Tony’s parents.”

“But did they take the bear though?”

Hoseok blinked. “...I don’t believe they brought the bear. I mean… there’s— I can’t imagine why they would bring the bear.”

“While they were leaving the house, Tony felt a sharp sting in his back. When they lifted his shirt, they discovered three long scratches. Tony would continue to get viciously scratched as time went on, and at one point, a scratch manifested itself on video. The Pickmans would eventually turn to a psychic, who picked up on a presence named Sallie.”

“According to Debra Pickman, on the morning of October 31st, 1993--”

“Oh, Halloween! I always appreciate a demon who waits until the appropriate date to terrorize families.”

“AS I WAS SAYING, Tony went to grab a glass of orange juice from the kitchen, when he turned around, he saw a little girl in early 1900s clothes; shortly after, he sketched what he saw for Debra. I have a picture of the drawing here, actually, here it is.” Hoseok pulled out a drawing from the folder, holding it so the camera would see it, Yoongi tilting his head as he stared at it.

“And what may be a curious coincidence, a former resident who lived in the house shortly before the Pickmans, said, quote ‘my daughter was five at the time. She had an imaginary friend, Sallie. I would scold her for something, and she’d come back at me and say “I didn’t do it, Sallie did it.”, or, “Sallie told me to do it.”’ When shown Tony Pickman’s drawing 11 years after they’d moved out of the house, the daughter identified it as her imaginary friend from her childhood.

“The Pickmans also reported fires that would start on their own. In fact, two former residents before the Pickmans reported fires starting inexplicably in the room that would eventually become the Pickmans’ nursery. The activity continued to escalate beyond fires, however; a lamp was thrown at Tony’s mother. Tony reported hearing scratching coming from behind his bed. Quote, ‘almost like you had an animal digging to get out of the wall,’ end quote. At one point, Sallie even appeared in the room and grabbed Tony’s wrist, burning dark red finger marks onto his skin. At this point, Tony believed, quote ‘we’re dealing with something way beyond a little girl’, end quote, and begged to leave the house. Yet Debra, who at this point hadn’t witnessed anything alarming, didn’t feel the same.”

“This was the 90s! People had frickin' video recorders, right?”

“I mean, the scratches happened on camera!”

Yoongi groaned.

“Here’s the thing: this is what I love about paranormal evidence. People are always clamoring for it, right? And then, once they finally have it, they look for like five seconds before going like, ‘fake.’”

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Things eventually went beyond physical terror, however. According to Tony, quote ‘It got to the point where I, whenever I was in the house, I could not think any happy thought. It was just strictly, I wanted to hurt her. Hurt Deb. I… I was a whole different person. That something can come inside and make me capable of… doing that… it just, it tears me up. As much as I hate to say it, I planned on slitting her throat—’”

“Oh, fuck no!” Yoongi yelled, before quieting down, “Hobi, I love you but if you slit my throat tonight I’m going to have a hard time forgiving you.”

“Will you haunt me for the rest of my life?” Hoseok asked with a sarcastic smile.

“No. I’d be dead. Ghosts aren’t real.”

Hoseok’s smile disappeared. “Oh.”

“Keep going! I’m interested,” Yoongi pleaded, still sounding skeptical.

“Fine. In 1994, the Pickmans finally moved out of the house. At this point, you’re probably wondering who Sallie is. From what I could find, records show that a Sallie Isabel Hall did indeed live in this house in 1905… But, she was actually a 34 year old black woman.”

Yoongi broke out into laughter. “Wait, WHAT!?”

Hoseok couldn’t resist laughing as well. “Hear me out, hear me out!”

“No! This demon’s a racist! He had a good thought and said ‘oh, there was a black lady who lived here? Nah, I can’t haunt with that. How about a… a little white girl? A little blonde one, I’ll give her pigtails!’”

“Yoongi, that’s not how demons…”

“Fuck that demon, he’s whitewashed the history of this house. He’s everything that’s wrong with Hollywood.”

“If you let me keep going, I would’ve said that demons don’t present themselves as adults.”

“Ever?”

“Ever, Yoongi.”

“What about the old lady from Insidious?”

“Yoongi, that’s a movie!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“YES, WHATEVER. CAN I PLEASE CONTINUE?”

Yoongi nodded, closing his eyes, as if he were making the decision to allow his boyfriend to continue.

“I will allow it.”

“Yoongi!”

“Are you gonna keep going or not?”

Hoseok sighed.

“An entity like this needs to gain humans’ trust to feed off of them, of course they’re not gonna immediately come out with the horns and stuff, so they come out with a sweet little girl. It makes sense to me, I don’t know.”

“Whatever. Demon’s racist. I’ve lost all respect for this guy.”

A knock on the door caused Hoseok to jump, before realizing what it was.

“He’s here!”

“Who’s here?”

“I invited a paranormal investigator here.”

“...Of course you did.”

With that, Yoongi picked up the cameras that were right next to him, handed one to Hoseok, standing and following his boyfriend to the door.

Hoseok opened the door and smiled at the man standing outside.

“I take it you’re Taehyung?”

The man nodded with a boxy smile, and Hoseok stretched out his hand, and Taehyung shook it gladly, not seeming to mind the camera in his other hand, probably due to the fact that they’d discussed it on the phone the week before they came. “I’m Hoseok.”

Yoongi held out his hand. “This is my boyfriend, Yoongi,” Hoseok said sheepishly, and Yoongi nodded in acknowledgement as he shook hands with the man, still holding the camera.

“Kim Taehyung.”

“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi answered with a cheeky grin, “I think this is all bullshit.”

Hoseok wheezed with laughter at Yoongi’s forwardness

“Half of it is,” Taehyung replied with a laugh. “Let’s get to it!”

They led Taehyung to the kitchen, where they'd laid out several things: a few flashlights, their phones, Hoseok’s bottle of holy water, an EVP recorder.

“You think we might be able to communicate with something tonight?” Yoongi asked, voice dripping with skepticism.

“I’m not communicating with shit,” Hoseok proclaimed, raising his free hand before looking to his boyfriend, “Remember what the Father said the first time when we asked him for advice?”

“You mean, after his first piece of advice, which was, ‘don’t do it’?”

“Exactly.”

Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember, before Hoseok quoted the priest they’d visited the very first time they planned to go ghost hunting all for the sake of views. “He said, ‘I would do nothing to invite the demon into conversation.’”

Taehyung chuckled at the interaction. “Hate to break it to you, Hoseok, but you already are communicating with it if you’re in here, if we’re gonna be communicating with it.”

“Oh, hell no, I’m content with just standing in the background, you know?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, a smile on his face as he leaned against the wall.

They headed up the stairs, Hoseok leading the way. That is, until, halfway up, he got cold feet and stepped behind Yoongi, Taehyung watching bemusedly as the scene unfolded. “Yoongi, you go first.”

Yoongi turned towards him, pointing the camera in his direction. “What, babe, are you scared?”

“No, my mom taught me that ladies should always go first, you know?”

Taehyung burst out laughing, and Yoongi pointed the camera right in Hoseok’s face, his playful yet serious tone making a return. “Ladies and gentlemen, turns out I’m dating a misogynist.”

“Misogynist? I went to the women’s march with you this year!”

“One word, Hoseok: Microaggressions.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s micro—”

Before Hoseok could actually bring up anything smaller than average, a soft banging noise caused them all to quiet. Taehyung’s laughter stopped abruptly, and the three of them, including the cameras, turned to where the sound was coming from: the room at the top of the stairs, the exact same room where the Pickmans had their nursery.

“What was that?” Yoongi asked, voice dropping to a whisper as he turned on the flashlight.

Hoseok could feel his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline quickly flowing through his veins. But when Yoongi turned on the flashlight, and nothing instantly murdered them, he felt his nerves quell. Yoongi took another slow step up the staircase, and Taehyung did the same, forcing Hoseok to also take another step.

Hoseok forced himself to take a deep, shaky breath before he continued up the stairs, following Yoongi, who was having the time of his life, unwavering, holding the GoPro in one hand and the flashlight in the other. When they got to the top of the stairs, Yoongi stepped into the room that was the nursery before calling out, “Anybody there?”

He pointed the camera over to Taehyung and his boyfriend, who was frowning at him as he remembered another point the priest they’d spoken to had brought up.

‘I would do nothing to invite the demon to show itself—’

“No racist demons around here? Hey howdy hey?”

‘—No taunting whatsoever.’

“Yoongi, shut up!” Hoseok whispered, half serious, trying to keep his camera from shaking yet again.

He turned the camera to Taehyung, who was looking down at their EVP. “What's it say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, the light on Taehyung’s device lit up, a bright green illuminating the dim room. At the exact same time, a chill rolled down Hoseok’s spine, and he felt the hair on his arms stand up.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok whispered, turning the camera toward Yoongi, while looking back and forth at both of the men, “Did you guys feel that?”

Taehyung nodded. “It feels like the temperature just dropped fifteen degrees.”

Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. “That's just because you took off your jackets,” He replied, pointing at his camouflage windbreaker, staring at the pair as if they were mental.  “I didn't feel anything.”

“Because you don't believe in this stuff.”

“Exactly. You guys do. Placebo effect. Mass hysteria.”

“There's only two of us!”

“Fine, Hoseok. Dual hysteria. Whatever.”

Hoseok looked into Yoongi’s camera. “See what I have to deal with?”

Taehyung snickered, still looking at the EVP as he waved it around slowly, trying to get another reading.  

“Let's head downstairs, check out the kitchen,” Yoongi proposed, “Maybe we'll see Sallie. Or Satan.” He looked around the dark room. “Whatever you prefer to be called,” He said loudly, as if he was talking to someone who was ignoring him.

“Min fucking Yoongi, I will not hesitate—”

The quick journey down to the kitchen was uneventful, to which Hoseok was grateful. Yoongi set his flashlight on the counter, turning it off. Hoseok pointed his camera at him, planning to ask his boyfriend what he planned to do next, when he was interrupted by a scraping noise.

“Ohfuckfuckfuck, hell no, fuck that,” Hoseok muttered, and both Taehyung and Yoongi broke out into laughter.

“Hobi,” Yoongi wheezed, “It was a car passing by.”

Hoseok blinked, before also breaking down in laughter, feeling the moment releasing the tension he'd been holding in.

As the laughter quieted down, Hoseok shook his head. “No, but being serious, what now?”

Yoongi looked at the watch on his wrist. “It's almost like, one in the morning. Let's check out this last spot and head to sleep. How's that?”

Both Taehyung and Hoseok nodded.

“So,” Yoongi continued, flashing a devious grin. Hoseok’s eyes widened—because whenever Yoongi smiled like that, it was because he had gotten a really, really bad idea.

Yoongi pointed the camera towards his flashlight, and Hoseok backed away towards the table, where he had his holy water.

“Hey, de-maaahn,” Yoongi taunted, crouching to be at face level with his flashlight as it rested on the counter. “If you don't like us, turn the light off.”

“Come on,” Hoseok muttered nervously, “There's no way—”

The flashlight dimmed for a split second, before the light faded away completely.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung murmured. Hoseok jumped back in fear, a screech barreling out of his throat.

“What—the—FUCK!?” He screeched, and Yoongi cackled with glee. It was at this moment that Hoseok concluded: he was dating a psychopath.

“Do you, uh, d’you mind proving your point again? If you really don't like us, turn it back on.”

“Where's my fucking holy water,” Hoseok sputtered out, hearing Taehyung whisper to himself, “There's no way it'll do it again—”

Light shot out of the flashlight, shining in Yoongi's eyes. Hoseok screamed again, Taehyung watching in disbelief.

“You should’ve never talked to it, Yoongi!” Hoseok screeched once he was finished screaming.

He put the camera down, and Yoongi took that as his sign to knock it off. “Are you okay?” He asked. It was their code for, should I stop being a dick?

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Hoseok replied, another scraping noise being heard in the background.

“Was that another car?” Taehyung asked. “No, that was the fucking flashlight.” Hoseok was actually laughing, a strange smile on his face.

“Oh come on, it's a flashlight, it's cylindrical!”

“T-Taehyung, what does the EVP say?  

“I'm definitely getting something,” Taehyung answered, pointing at the flashing green light, “Holy fuck.”

Yoongi grabbed the flashlight, hearing Hoseok wheeze out in between hysterical laughing, “You never should have fucking talked to it, Hyung.” He felt his chest pang slightly with regret, because, he knew that no matter how much Hoseok also enjoyed the goofing around with him on the show, he also knew that when Hoseok started giggling like that when he’d been screeching a few seconds later, it was because he was genuinely scared; his laughter was a defense mechanism.

He’d been the cause of that.

“I think it’s time we get to bed,” Yoongi muttered, and Hoseok nodded. Yoongi pointed the camera at himself. “We’re gonna be right back,” He explained, smiling lightly, “I think we need a quick break.”

Taehyung seemed to understand the situation just fine, no awkward hovering around the couple or tiptoeing around the situation. He said goodbye, wished them luck, thanked Hoseok for the invitation to be on the show, and left the house.

Hoseok sat down on his sleeping bag, and Yoongi plopped himself down next to him, quickly pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. “I'm sorry, babe,” He said, “I didn’t realize you were that on edge.”

Hoseok shook his head. “I wasn’t that on edge until the flashlight turned on.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No. Just… Just hold me, please.”

Yoongi nodded, and put his arm over Hoseok’s shoulder, allowing his boyfriend to bury his face into his neck.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hoseok gripping onto Yoongi’s free hand in the dimly lit living room.

During the entirety of the show, Yoongi maintained his skeptical persona on camera. But when it came down to his personal opinion, Yoongi had seen some truly unusual things happen (the flashlight not included. It could have been twisted incorrectly. It was cylindrical. Cylindrical objects tend to roll), things that could truly not be explained; and on the inside, he did have the occasional doubt, the occasional ‘what if I take things too far this time?’.

The thought of some unseen entity hurting him and taking Hoseok away was low-key terrifying, and he clung onto his skepticism as stubbornly as he did for both his and Hoseok’s sake. Because if he let go of his skepticism, he’d be letting go of his logic, and they would both be screwed; they’d be two idiots with a camera screaming in the dark. And while they already were two idiots with a camera in the dark, only one of them screamed (That being Hoseok, obviously. Min Yoongi didn’t scream).

“Hey,” Yoongi whispered, trying to lighten the mood, “Have you ever considered having sex in a haunted house?”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I’m just saying, what if Sallie’s a secret voyeur? Maybe she took up the job of haunting the house so she could watch people get freaky.” Yoongi said, and Hoseok snorted, finally looking at his boyfriend. Even in the dim light, he could make out his mint green hair, and his suggestive, gummy smile, as he wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re an asshole.”

“You love me anyway.”

Hoseok nodded. “That’s true.”

“Should we sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

Yoongi nodded, unzipping his windbreaker, and pulling the cover of the sleeping bag off. “Do you want to edit this part out? Because the cameras we set up around here are still rolling, you know.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok answered. “I don’t want anyone to hear you suggesting we bang here.”

“It’d get us a lot of views, you know.”

“Yoongi.”

“Alright, alright.”

They settled into their sleeping bags, and Yoongi turned off the flashlight, setting his GoPro next to him. He turned to look at Hoseok in the dark. “Hey, Hobi.”

“Hey, hyung.”

“You know I love you right?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi smiled in the dark, and he saw Hoseok smile back.

In that moment, from both Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s perspectives, ghosts didn’t exist. Neither did demons. They weren’t in the Sallie House. They were at home.

Because for them, home wasn’t their little apartment in LA. Home was each other.

And nothing, nor human nor supernatural, could change that.

[kr-writing]

Can I get a ship with BTS and Seventeen,please?? I’m caring and honest. I always keep my word. Others may see me as either a sweet or a quiet one but actually I’m kind of a dork, fun to talk with 😬unconscious humming song when in a good mood, bad at lying and pretty clumsy tho. I’m not really girly but love sweets (let’s say all kind of food😆)and flowers. I'm adventurous, love nature, prefer walking to driving, like drawing and enjoy listening to music. I am a fan of horror movies! Thank you❤️

hello dear!!! IM SO SORRY I PUT THIS OFF FOR SO LONG FORGIVE ME

okay sofrom seventeen i ship you with jisoo!! i think your dynamic would be so cute because honestly it’d just be him smiling and grinning at you all the time? ALSO i lowkey think jisoo watches horror like nbd? so the both of you would just be sitting there watching some scary shit while the whole of svt quivers and quakes in fear. sounds like a date night

and from bangtan i think you’d be good with namz!!omg this kid, okay he’s going to ask you out by getting you to watch a scary ass movie with him and then he’d just freak out and die. he can’t do it man. i think he’d really appreciate your caring side too?? especially since we all know how much responsibility he has as a leader, and how tired he possibly is from taking care of others. it’d be a nice change for our namjoonie so i think you’d be good for each other!

have a nice day babe i’m so sorry i took so long :-(