#kimtaehyung.net

[boymeetsweevil]

SS7 - KTH, FANTASY!AU, 3623w

The sun was high in the sky when Taehyung met her for the first time. He was feeling the effects of the heat under his cloak and took some time to squat under the shade of a large, drooping tree.

Losing his chaperone was starting to seem like a bad decision as he rubbed at his growling stomach. He wasn’t certain that he could remember the last time he was hungry for this long. Normally, in the palace, he would have eaten at least a snack by now while the kitchen staff prepared lunch for him and his mother. But with only the palace towers visible against the northern mountains, he knew he wouldn’t get back until at least dinner time. Maybe longer.

He dozed off to fight the hunger pangs briefly only to be woken by the sound rustling. The stories about ferocious wolves he sometimes read from his chaperone's library came flooding back to him. He still wasn’t old enough or far enough in training to carry a sword like the knights at the palace did, so there was no way to defend himself against an attack. Did wolves even like the taste of princes, he wondered with watery eyes.

The rustling grew louder and he began to cry in earnest. He didn’t know much about wolves, but he did know that at some point his chaperone tried to teach him about the wildlife in the kingdom’s terrain. If only he’d listened instead of doodling on the margins of his parchment. Taehyung dropped his head to whisper a silent prayer to the gods like he sometimes heard the maids do over his bed when he got chills in the winter.

If he made it out of this, he promised to study harder, stay with his chaperone, and stop playing tricks on the palace seamstress.

A twig snapped and he screamed a high and childish sound. Then from the bushes emerged not a wolf, but another child.

Instantly he could tell the child was clearly not from any of the allying kingdoms. There was no gold woven into her cloak or lacework on the bodice of her gown, nor were there any pearls or smaller jewels sewn into the hem of her skirts. Instead the girl before him stood with a dirty face and a thin, greying frock with a dusty looking apron tied to her front. It reminded him of something some of the servant girls in the palace might wear. And then he thought of home and how far he was from it.

And then he started to cry again.

“You’ve got some funny clothes,” the girl mumbled almost to herself as she approached. “What you cryin' for?”

Taehyung couldn’t do much else but give a wet cough and keep crying in response.

“M’hungryyy,” he managed between heaving sobs.

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?”

The girl reached out and grabbed at Taehyung’s arm, quickly at first and then softer a second time to marvel at the smooth silk of his sleeve. He would have balked at the sudden intrusion, but the crying made his throat sore and he was still whimpering too much to say anything.

He let the other child pull him down some invisible path, ducking under low hanging branches and pushing through high weeds until they reached a small clearing with a gently babbling brook running through it.

“Water!”

Taehyung chucked himself to the ground and pulled off his leather gloves to cup the cool water in his hands. The girl watched off to the side as he drank until he was no longer feeling like he was being baked alive in his velvet trousers. When he stood, she stared at the dirt clinging to the knees of his pants.

“Wait here,” she said before turning on her heel and disappearing further into the surrounding shrubbery.

Taehyung almost panicked but she returned not a few minutes later with her apron gathered awkwardly in her two hands.

“Why are you holding it like that?”

“I’ve got you something.” The smile she gave him was so large it made her eyes small. She was missing a front tooth, just like him. She must have 7 birthdays as well.

Taehyung found himself trying to peek into the makeshift basket of her apron. 

“No peeking! Sit first, then I’ll show you.”

Taehyung bristled. “You can’t tell me what to do! I’m the prin—”

“Are you hungry or not?”

With that, he pursed his lips and mulled over his options before settling back down on the ground. Once he was seated, the girl sat down as well. As soon as she was low enough, Taehyung could see exactly what she was hiding. In her apron lay dozens of wild strawberries, each one glistening like a large ruby in the afternoon sun. He realized then that the material of her apron was darkened with what must be water from the brook that she used to wash the berries first.

“These are my favorite,” he looked back up at her in shock. “How did you know,” he asked sincerely.

“I dunno. I just knew they were there. Sometimes I eat them when I’m out here and we've no bread in the house.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you have any bread?” Taehyung chuckles at the ridiculous thought and scoops up a handful of berries. “Just ask the cook to bake you some.”

“What cook? You mean my Ma?”

“Why on earth would your mother make the bread?”

“Well, who else is gonna make it? She says I’m too young yet to put the loaf the fire by myself.”

Taehyung couldn’t find fault with the girl’s logic when she put it that way, though he also couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea of his own mother in the kitchen. The few times she’d tried to go in, the cooks promptly chased her out. He’d have to ask when he got home.

“Oh!" He chirped, cheeks slightly grubby with berries. "Do you know how to get back to the palace?”

“The palace,” the girl asked while chewing on a strawberry of her own. “I don’t think so. I’ve never been there, I thought only adults went to the palace.”

“I live there.”

“No, you don’t! Only the king and his family live at the palace.”

“The king is my father, so of course I live there.”

The girl was silent again. She stared for a long time at Taehyung’s clean, neat brown hair, his un-tattered clothes, his delicate beaded shoes. She still wasn't sure he was telling the truth until she saw his hands.

“Woah! You really are from the palace!”

She reached out for the hand nearest to her but he yanked it back fearfully.

“Just let me see your hand. I want to see something.”

“No!”

Taehyung gulped and brough his hand to his chest. He knew he wasn’t supposed to take his gloves off outside of the palace, but he was so excited to see fresh water and food that he took them off and forgot to put them back on. The girl stood up and let the remaining berries fall to the ground, leaving small blood-red stains on her apron. If he didn’t fend her off, he’d have to deal with the burning and the splotches again.

“I just want to see really quick. I won’t do anything bad.”

“If you touch me, my skin will get sick,” he parroted the dialogue he heard from the town herbalist told him, nearly 3 suns ago.

“Really?”

He was about to explain more but the girl ambushed him by tackling him to the ground. The air in his lungs was knocked out and he could only lay there at first to get his bearings back. With the sleeve of his silk shirt rucked up, the girl grabbed his bare wrist delicately and peered at his hand. The skin of his palm was free of calluses or scars, smooth and soft. His nails were clean with no soot or soil wedged underneath. Just like her Ma had told her. He truly was a prince.

Taehyung yanked his wrist back and clutched it once more, waiting for the pain to start. But as the seconds passed, his skin remained free of the prickly fire that would raise underneath when his mother used to stroke his cheek or the herbalist would check his pulse.

“What are you,” he breathed with wide eyes up her.

“What?”

“I mean, why doesn’t my skin burn?”

“Does it really burn? I thought you were just pretending,” she blinked in surprise.

Taehyung was about to grab at the girl himself this time, but a call rang through the forest.

“Your Majesty! Taehyung, your grace! Are you here?”

The voice of his chaperone, Namjoon, should have been a welcome sound. But now that he was no longer tired, overheated, or hungry, Taehyung didn’t really feel like going home as badly as he had. In fact, he wanted to spend more time with his new friend. Happiness bubbled inside him at the thought. He could finally have a friend to play with now that he was cured. He could finally get rid of his stuffy gloves and hooded cloaks and go on adventures with someone.

“Who’s Taehyung?”

“Me! I’m Taehyung.” He puffed out his chest proudly. “I’m the first in line to the throne. So I’ll be king one day.”

“Oh. Alright.”

Taehyung pointed a chubby finger in the direction of the sound. “That’s my chaperone, Namjoon. Come on, I’ll let you meet him. He’s nice and he knows everything.”

He grabbed at the girl’s hand first this time. He marveled at the simple warmth he felt, a sensation he hadn’t felt for years without a fiery blaze accompanying it soon after. He smiled down at his fingers intertwined with hers.

“Namjoon, I’m here!”

“Don’t move,” Namjoon's disembodied voice called.

The sound of twigs snapping and flora brushing continued for a few more minutes before a young man of 21 came stumbling through. He nearly fell over a distended tree root while making his way over, but as soon as he righted himself he came charging at Taehyung. Realizing that he had sent his chaperone into a rage, Taehyung ran to hide behind his new friend, still clutching her hand.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours, Kim Taehyung. Do you hear me? Hours!”

“I’m sorry!”

“And now I see that you’ve managed to drag some poor child into your mischief as well.” Namjoon peered down his nose at the two children in front of him when he saw Taehyung’s bare hand nestled in the little girl’s hand.

“What are you doing—where are your gloves?”

Namjoon turned to search the forest floor for the handcrafted leather gloves that always traveled with the prince when he left his chambers or received company. He spotted the deep red garments strewn about nearby and dove for them.

“Put these back on,” he hissed before reaching out and yanking the young prince over to his side. Taehyung whined a little but let Namjoon mandhandle him away from his friend.

“How long have you been touching? Do you feel fit to ride on my horse?”

“Namjoon—”

“I’m afraid we’re too far from the palace to prevent the sickness this time, your majesty. You may faint on the ride back.”

“No, you don’t understand—”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you need to keep your gloves if you’re going to be free of the sickness?”

Namjoon looked into Taehyung’s face openly, clearly dreading seeing the little prince in pain.

“But I’m cured, Namjoon! We touched hands before—a long time ago—and I didn’t feel a thing. Look!”

Taehyung held out his arm and showed the smooth, clear skin there. Namjoon looked angry still but turned to the little girl.

“Is this true?”

She averted her eyes and curtsied like her mother had shown her to do in front of important people. Judging by this chaperone Namjoon’s clothing, he might be a prince as well.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Huh?” Taehyung looked up at his guardian before letting a giggle spill from between his lips. “He’s not royal, he’s just my chaperone.”

“What’s a chaperone?”

“It’s the person that follows you around when you leave the grounds or when you have to visit another palace’s prince or princess. Don’t you have one?”

Namjoon shushed Taehyung before the small girl could answer. Of course she didn’t have a chaperone, but Taehyung wouldn't have known that.

“Taehyung, your Majesty, we really must be going back to the palace. I fear that the queen may worry herself ill if we do not return soon.”

“And what of my friend?”

Namjoon didn’t have the heart to tell Taehyung that there was no way he could bring a common child back to the palace to play. Nor did he have the heart to explain why in front of the common child herself.

“There...is no room on my horse this time. Perhaps you’ll meet again when you finally make your debut in the village.”

Taehyung’s eyes grew wide at what was supposed to be Namjoon’s reassuring statement. He’d heard from his advisors enough times that he wouldn’t be debuting in the town until his 18th birthday, nearly Namjoon’s age. That would be ages from now, he knew. Which meant that he’d have to endure playing alone and wearing itchy layers and gloves and cloaks for another 11 birthdays.

“But—but I don’t want to leave her,” Taehyung sniffled as Namjoon hefted him up onto his hip. Namjoon ignored the beginning of the tears in favor of looking back down at the girl in front of him.

“Do you know how to get home from here, child?”

“Yes...sir.”

“Good.” He reached for a small animal skin pouch tied to his opposite hip and untied its leather drawstrings. The pouched jingled when he passed it to her and weighed heavy in her hands. “Hide this in your apron and don’t take it out until you get inside your home. Understood?”

The small girl chanced a look at Taehyung, whose lip was quivering with the silent dribble of frustrated tears, before nodding.

Namjoon turned and began making his way back to the horse he had tied nearby. Taehyung whipped his head around and dug his little hands into the hood of Namjoon’s deep blue cloak.

“I don’t want to leave, Namjoon.” Taehyung’s voice was watery but rang loud through the trees. “I want to stay with my friend. I’m going to stay with my friend!”

It was an empty promise, but the young girl still locked eyes with him and even gave a little wave as she watched the prince and his chaperone disappear into the tree line.

3 weeks later you woke from your slumber to the grey-blue of early morning. Judging by the sky’s hue, you were certain you should be allowed at least a few more hours of sleep. But, at your mother’s request, you rose from your bed.

You wanted to complain about it not being fair, but you were too sleepy to think up a good complaint. So you let your mother drag a wet rag along your face and hands, and silently marveled when she put you in your good dress. You watched with sleepy eyes as she pocketed the small bag of gold coins you brought home nearly a month ago.

“Where we goin', Ma?” You asked after leaving the baker’s with a warm chunk of fresh bread in one hand and a hunk of cheese your mother bought in the other.

“To the palace,” she replied with furrowed brows. Almost like she couldn't believe it herself.

“Why?”

“The King has asked for all the families with daughters to pay him a visit.”

The King was a mysterious entity to you. You knew that you were supposed to be grateful to him, according to your mother. But you also knew that every year your mother would become frantic and take on as many jobs as she could to pay taxes to that same King. Without a father to help earn money for the household, you were convinced your mother worked harder than anyone in the town. Your hand found a nearby pleat in her long skirt when you were done eating and you walked a bit closer to her.

When you reached the castle, there was a long line. There hadn’t been many people in town earlier in the morning when you left home but you understood why then. Every family with a daughter was lined up before the palace doors. You didn’t even realize there were so many people in the kingdom.

Your mother stood in line while you stepped to the side to get a better view of all the daughters being escorted. Some girls you recognized as girls you played with on days when you finished your chores early. Other girls you’d never seen before. You weren’t sure what you were all there for, but you knew it must have been serious.

Despite the winding line ahead of you, it still wasn't noon when there were only a few families left between you and the palace entrance. Whatever the King wanted you there for, it was quick. Families that were ahead of you entered in, ushered by stern looking guards, and left almost as quickly as they came. Some parents left looking deeply relieved but others looked disgruntled at having to spend so much of the day in line only to be dismissed by the King so quickly.

Your mother stroked your hair gently as you neared the palace gates. It was something she did to calm herself down. Knowing that much, your heartbeat jumped into your throat when the guards finally ushered you in.

The palace’s high stone walls seemed to swallow you up as the daylight left and only torches lit the way down a long passage. The first hall you entered was much brighter than the hallway thanks to the windows lining the walls that looked onto the mountains. Two families ahead of you stood before a group of palace staff and a man in a large, ornate chair. The King, you realized. To his right, in a smaller chair, sat a young boy. He looked familiar and as you moved up in line, you recalled the prince you ran into weeks before. The hand you had bunched in your mother’s skirts tightened when you realized he was telling the truth and you had tackled a real prince.

“Come forward and let his Majesty see the girl,” called one of the guards.

Your mother bowed deeply before the King before pulling you forward and pushing you into a similar bow. The two of you stepped forward with your heads lowered. The same guard stepped forward then and laid a heavy hand between your shoulder blades to bring your closer to the King.

“Father’s name?” The King addressed you, eyes bored and looking through you. You turned back to your mother with nervous eyes.

“Her father fell ill when she was only a few moons old, your Majesty,” your mother called.

“They reside in the Western quadrant, your Majesty. Near the grain fields.” Another guard off to the side read off a long scroll. “The woman does sartorial tasks for coin.”

“I see.” The King then turned to his son beside him. “Taehyung, my boy. Is this she?”

The boy hopped off his perch and approached the place where you stood. Your mother had drawn your cloak's hood up to protect you from the early morning chill, but you kept it up because it felt safer while entering the palace. Taehyung didn’t make any move to pull the hood back, but crouched low enough to peer at you with a discerning look pinching his small features. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up.

“It’s you! It’s really you!”

“Thank the gods,” the King sighed. “Send the rest back, then. Let us finish this.”

At once the guards not holding you and your mother in place moved from their posts to guide the two families behind you back through the hallway. There was a low murmur running through the adults of the retreating families and some of the lingering court members.

“Do you know how to read?” Taehyung turned to you suddenly as the palace staff began milling around busily.

“N-no. Ma says it costs too much to attend the school for girls in the South.”

“That’s okay. You can come to my lessons with me.”

He reached out a gloved hand and tried to pull you away, but a guard leaned down to let him know that the King still had some words to exchange with you and your mother. You tried to stay quiet while the adults discussed something about you and your mother becoming part of the palace staff and moving into a house behind the palace. At some point your mother cried a little bit, but it didn’t seem like the times when she cried because you had to skip supper multiple days in a row.

Eventually Taehyung managed to get the guards to let you go outside. In a secluded part of the palace gardens he threw off his stuffy extra layers and gloves and took you by the hand with a gigantic grin. You quickly forgot about the heavy mood that radiated off your mother from earlier and made you match her quick breathing. Taehyung scooped up a tiny frog from a pond he led you to and deposited the creature into your hands, palms brushing and bell-like giggles leaving him.

And so it began.

A/N: I really want to continue this, but idk if i will/how so this is being put in the SS collection until further notice.

[bangtanger]

cr. qdeoks

[seokjinlesbian]

no caption needed

[knjluvs]

taehyung - mic drop; wembley

[tearuntold]

he really has to show off his neck every damn time they accept an award huh?

[kimtaeminsuga]

[outrowings]

love yourself solo tracks

[vantaeto]

“Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don’t fool” ~ Robert Brault // Taekook Soulmate AU | Requested by @softjeon

[pewpewtaekook]

KIM. TAE. HYUNG. HOW EVEN. 

[taehungies]

💕 🌸 💕 💜 💕 🌸 💕 💜 💕 🌸 💕 💜 💕 🌸 💕

[you-made-me-again]

smiley taehyungie

[boymeetsweevil]

Heat Index

Grouping: Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 2700 exactly!

Warnings/Themes: use of toys, mutual masturbation?, tae has a sweat kink probably

Summary: The town being in a heat wave puts Tae’s in a bit of a love drought. But even still, he makes do and (kind of) does you.

Another drop of sweat rolls down Taehyung’s face. It makes his nose itch with the gentle grazing sensation and falls on the cardboard flap in his hands. The sweat darkens the area it lands on and he stops for a minute to take in the perfectly circular shape haloed from the way the drop burst on impact. Normally he wouldn’t be so interested in his own sweat, but he feels as though his thoughts are slowed and dulled by cotton. It’s the heat.

“I’m really sorry, Tae,” you apologize as soon as you return from your kitchen, a single plastic-wrapped treat in hand. “They’re not putting in the AC until tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” he says pleasantly while taking the popsicle from you. But it’s not really fine.

The heatwave terrorizing your town has been going on for almost 9 days at this point. He’d volunteered to help you move in, only for the weather to put a halt in your plans. But after the 4th day, you couldn’t put it off any longer and had to go meet the movers at your new place. Taehyung being the chivalrous boyfriend that he was—or that he wanted to be—kept his word despite the warnings from various weather people on his TV telling him not to leave his own air-conditioned apartment.

Though it might seem as though his priorities aren’t in place, Taehyung would honestly admit that the worst part about the heat wave was the lack of sex that came rolling in with it. With your new place being on the other side of the city and with the both of you relying primarily on public transport to see each other, your sex life seemed to be dwindling—no—frying in the sun. So, when you brought up the move yesterday he figured he’d just be helpful with unpacking until the AC installation finished and then suddenly become very helpful with packing you full of him. But that doesn’t seem to be in the cards.

He bites at the popsicle forlornly with his back teeth. You have your own popsicle that’s a subtle pale green. It’s lime. Your favorite. Even if he didn’t know you well enough to know that you loved all things citrus, he’d still know you were enjoying the lime pop. The way you happily slurp around the cylinder while leaning on one of the larger boxes makes for quite the mirage in Taehyung’s sex desert. Your back is arched elegantly so you can peer out the window on the opposite wall and admire the much better view you have in your new space. And your skin looks iridescent with the sheen of sweat the weather has lovingly draped upon you. Then you catch a stray juice trail about to run onto your hand with the flat of your tongue and chase the flavor all the way to the top of the popsicle and Taehyung suddenly needs a plan B fast.

You jump with a shriek when your neck meets something shockingly cold and wet. Turning your head, you see that it’s just your boyfriend running the edge of his snack along the place where sweat was collecting like a pretty dew on your skin. His tongue follows the sticky path he just made, causing your eyes to flutter shut on their own before you fight them back open.

“What are you doing, that’s so...gross,” your breath hitches when he bites down at the intersection of neck and shoulder.

“Nothing.” The popsicle descends again to follow the same trail he made but, this time, you only flinch a little. “Just enjoying my snack.”

“Am I the snack?” You give him an unamused look.

“You’re always a snack, baby.”

“Sorry,” you’re not sorry but still remove his hand from your shorts with some care, “but I draw the line after 80 degrees.”

His hand only retreats a little and ends up sitting on your stomach, laying like a hot coal there. You can feel the arousal twisting your insides and raising your temperature like it does. The only problem is that this time you really can’t afford to get any warmer. You’re sure that you’ve already sweat out all the important things in your body and if you so much as look at Taehyung the wrong way, you’ll become a puddle that’s 20% you and 80% limesicle.

“But it’s been so long.”

The tip of his nose reacquaints itself with the shell of your ear. The heat of his front does the same with your back.

“You won’t die. Back off and help me with these other boxes. There might be a fan in here somewhere.”

The promise of a fan measures up fairly well against the promise of (sweaty) sex and he immediately hunts for the scissors he was using to open more of the boxes. With the blades in hand, he cuts through the tape holding yet another wardrobe box closed with hope as his only means of staying cool. The flaps reveal no spinning blade treasure—only kitchenware that you promptly scoop up and rush out the room with. Taehyung stares dumbly at your fleeing back, slick and bare besides a black sports bra, before cupping himself lightly. It’s just to take the edge off, his thinks to himself.

After the kitchenware layer, the box is rather oddly packed. There’s a bunch of hangers, which he promptly puts into your closet, and some knick knacks he knows you plan on putting on your bookshelves once they have books on them. There’s even some winter clothes that he’s fairly sure should have gone in a different box while you were packing them. Before he can dwell too much on your lack of packing skills, he reaches the bottom of the box, which contains yet another box. It’s a simple shoe box. Which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if you were a shoe fan like some people he knew. However, you aren’t a shoe fan. In fact, all of your other shoes were jammed into the bottom of another box that had been opened earlier. So why do you have this shoebox here?

Going solely off intuition and knowledge about you after nearly a year together, he’s guessing there’s just some random sentimental things inside that you didn’t know where to put. If that’s what’s inside, he knows he shouldn’t peek, but he’s curious to see if anything to do with him is in the box. He pulls the lid up daintily, like the secrets won’t escape if he’s gentle, only to slam it back down as soon as he eyes the contents.

Well, he supposes sex toys could have sentimental value. But they don’t have much to do with him.

He lifts the lid again now that he’s certain nothing in the box can tell on him. With the sounds of you organizing your kitchen as his personal soundtrack, his begins rifling through the box. There’s a few bullets, what he thinks is a dildo but it’s covered in scales and has a few unnatural bends in it, some beads of varying sizes, and a classic hitachi among other things. Some of them he’d seen before, and some he hadn’t. Perhaps some of them kept you company before he started to. After a few thoughtful moments, he grabs one of the toys before replacing the lid and stashing the shoe box.

You’re almost finished sorting through all the different families of silverware you’ve collected over the years, when two hands land on your unclothed waist. The feeling of his palms on your sweaty skin has you squirming a bit.

“On a scale of one to ten, how wet are you,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

“Your romance never ceases to amaze me.”

“Sorry, but...is it really just me?”

His forehead bumps against the back of your head as he takes in the way you look in shorts and a sports bra. It’s an understated look, to say the least, but he’s always loved the way you look with sweat on your skin.

“No,” you groan when he presses an open mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. “But it’s just too hot to be doing cardio for no reason.”

His tongue darts out and flicks at your lobe, sending a quick blitz from your core out to your extremities. A small gush of arousal rushes down and you squeeze your thighs together in a stubborn effort to keep calm.

“What if I told you it’s not too hot?”

“You found the fan?” You turn around in his arms with shining eyes and he feels like an ass for not being able to say yes.

“No,” he grimaces. He attempts to wrap his arms around your waist placatingly, but you brush him off partly in anger and partly because you’re overheated. “But, if there’s no cardio needed, is it really too hot?”

“No cardio?”

You eye him suspiciously but let him drag you by the wrist back into the living room. Clearly he’s emptied out and flattened several other boxes since you took all your mismatched forks to the dining room for sorting. Only a few boxes remain unopened. The question of what he’s planning is still lingering when he pulls you over to a little setup that looks like he wrapped something in a pillowcase

“I don’t get it.”

“You will,” he grins boxy reassurance at you before sitting before the bundle on the ground. You follow suit while he unwraps it to reveal a vibrator you hadn’t used in a long while.

“What’s the joke, again?”

“It’s not a joke,” he whines, “This is how we can be lazy and get off.”

“I never really liked that one. I got it for free in a raffle in college and it was weirdly shaped so I couldn’t really get it to work.”

“Please? I swear I can make this work.”

You’re really tempted to say no. There are several drops of sweat actually rolling down your back as you ponder having an orgasm in your now-90-degree apartment. It seems ill-advised and like more work than Taehyung is marketing, but he also makes a convincing case. The convincing case being him and the fact that he still manages to look nearly edible in the middle of a heat wave.

His hair is flat and darkened against his forehead, heavy and saturated with sweat after brushing it back with his hands. The summer sun has darkened him slightly, making his skin appear more radiant in combination with the layer of his light sweat. The fact that he’s been shirtless and handsy all day only works in his favor. You sigh in defeat.

“Fine.”

His expression brightens considerably and he scrabbles up to rest his weight on his knees and heels to tug off his shorts to reveal the simple black briefs he had on underneath. He returns to a reclined position before snatching up the vibrator. You don’t get much warning and only barely get your own shorts hanging off one leg before he’s switching the toy on and nudging it between your thighs.

“So how did you—Oh!”

He has it angled differently than you did the times that you used it, and you wonder through the vibrations traveling over you if it's actually supposed to be for someone else to use on you. The thought dissipates quickly with the sudden wave of acute pleasure that creeps over you. It’s the type of feeling that has you almost smirking to yourself as you bite your lip, eyelids drooping closed as you hum to yourself. Taehyung lets out a sympathetic moan when you start rocking your hips against the device ever so slightly.

When your underwear is wet enough that he can feel it dampening the tips of his fingers near the toy, he removes it from your center. Your breath catches in your throat in a needy scoff that he ignores in favor of placing the still pulsating toy over his own crotch. There’s a small wet spot darkening the material of his briefs where his swollen head lays tucked up. He’s never really ever used a vibrator, but he figures it can’t be too different an experience. But when he touches it gingerly to the base of his clothed erection, the vibrations knock his breath out his lungs.

“Fuck, oh my...god,” he chokes out. Greedily, his finger twitches to kick the speed up a half unit. The increase has him nearly drooling within seconds and creates a steady dribble of pre-cum. “Shit, that feels good.”

“Share,” you snap at him after about 90 seconds of neglect to you dripping center.

“Make me,” he mumbles before massaging the toy up and down his length, ripping a gasp from his own lips.

You don’t take kindly to Taehyung hogging the vibrator. So you kick off your panties the rest of the way and decide to sit on the toy to get some action where you can. Before that, though, you do him the service of tugging his briefs down until they bunch around his knees. Once you’re settled, you’ve effectively trapped him where you want him. On the floor with the toy nestled between your folds and his shaft.

With your added weight and the return of your subtle hip rocking, the vibrations feel more intense for the both of you. You hiccup above him, hands coming out to brace your weight on his chest. It’s the only point of contact between you besides where your pelvises are slotted together. Naturally sweat begins to pool in the small spaces where you’re both joined, but it’s minimal and you don’t care. Especially not after Taehyung’s clumsy fingers knock the pulses into one of the different pattern modes. The steady buzz between your folds becomes a sudden tangle of tiny bursts. The pleasure hits you in matching percussive beats and you curl over Taehyung helplessly as the first wave of your first orgasm hits.

His eyes are squeezed shut because he’s not accustomed to the intense vibrations, but the sound of your moans let him know that you just came. He’s quick to follow with a few shallow thrusts that have you instinctively tightening your thighs around his hips to maintain your balance. The low, drawn out sound of his groans is accompanied by his large hands coming in to lock at your hips, grinding you down against him, soaking him further with your arousal. His holding you down has you squealing and squirming with oversensitivity at first. But when he doesn’t let go even after he spurts onto his own chest, you feel the familiar curls of pleasure behind the acidic overstimulation. Your nails scratch a fiery trail down his chest, somehow further raising his internal temperature as you both struggle in the silent endurance competition.

Who can last against the toy longer?

With gritted teeth and a river of sweat dripping down from his forehead, Taehyung taps out first. He switches the toy back down to its lowest setting before letting out a bark and squeeze at the flesh of your hip in a silent surrender. Your breathing is harsh and you’re so exhausted that you don’t even bother to use the muscles in your thighs to get off him. Instead, you nudge the toy out from in between you and let it clatter to the floor between Taehyung’s thighs while you recover still in his lap.

“That was fun,” you pant after a few minutes of silence. The sweat cooling in the space between you and Taehyung makes you finally scoot off him and onto the floor.

“I told you it would work. We didn’t even have to move that much.”

“That’s also true.” You watch him use the spare pillow case to wipe off the tacky cum on his stomach. “I never doubted you for a second.”

“You definitely did!”

“I whined about how hot it is. I didn’t say I thought your plan would fail.”

“I guess.” He lays star-fished out in the middle of your sparsely decorated living room before popping his head off the ground. “We really do need to find that fan, though.”

[bangtanger]

cr. @hobies

[seokjinlesbian]

maknae line x army.zip

[knjluvs]

fly~

[tearuntold]

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