#namjoon fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ugh-yoongi · 5 months

Text

a word from our sponsors | knj

you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.

You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.

None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.

You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.

Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.

“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago

Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.

It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) ↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791) ↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3) ↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)

“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”

You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.

He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.

“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.

You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”

“Hello?”

“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”

“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”

You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”

“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”

Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”

To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.

His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.

You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.

Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.

Ah, Jungkook.

You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.

“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.

Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.

That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.

So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.

Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”

Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.

Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.

So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.

“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.

You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”

“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”

“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”

“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”

“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”

“That’s cute.”

“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”

“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”

“Sick name.”

“Number three, Toddler.”

“Toddler?”

“Number two, Flat.”

“Just Flat? Understandable.”

“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”

“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”

“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.

“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”

You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”

Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.

“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”

“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”

“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”

“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”

“And second of all?”

“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”

He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Subbed or dubbed, though?”

“Are you trying to get me canceled?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”

“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”

“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”

Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.

But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.

“—one should we start with?”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.

And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who is Taryn Manning?”

Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”

“The Britney Spears movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”

Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”

“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”

“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”

“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”

“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”

“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”

“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”

“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”

“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”

“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”

“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”

“How do I find that out?”

“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”

Namjoon rattles off a time.

You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”

“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”

You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”

“Haaa, that’s not—”

“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”

“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”

“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”

“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”

You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”

“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”

“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”

To your left, Jungkook scoffs.

“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”

“No,” you interject.

“Can I finish?”

“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”

“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”

“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.

“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”

“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”

Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”

And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”

“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”

You groan. “Oh my god.”

Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin

I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) ↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) ↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)

You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.

Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.

It’s just—

It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.

Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.

“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.

And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”

“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”

There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”

“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”

“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”

“You going out of town again?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”

“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”

This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”

Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”

“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”

“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”

“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”

“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”

“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.

So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”

Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—

Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: it’s a tie for me You: Okay well pick one 🙄 Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off” You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you

You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:

(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.

Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”

“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”

And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”

“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.

“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”

“This is how I sit!”

“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”

“What?”

“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”

Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”

Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”

“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”

“Uh-huh. Anyway—”

You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course—”

“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)

It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.

But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:

“What is this?”

Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”

“I can see that, but… why?”

This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”

“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.

But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.

“Oh my god?”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”

“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”

“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”

“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”

Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”

“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”

As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”

Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”

Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”

About us.

Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.

“I—what?”

“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.

Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”

“Can you not—”

“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”

Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.

And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”

Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.

As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.

The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.

The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.

“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”

And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?

There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.

It’s just a story.

Fiction.

Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.

Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.

Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.

Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.

What will they know of Namjoon, though?

Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?

And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.

Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?

No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.

Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.

Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.

“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.

It’s a completely normal question.

It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.

Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.

And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.

You swallow. Hard.

“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.

It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.

He moves it an inch to the left.

—

Things are tense, to say the least.

Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.

“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Showtime.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.

Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.

Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.

“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”

Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”

You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”

“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”

You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?

But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.

Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”

You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”

“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”

“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”

You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”

“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”

“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”

It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”

It sounds like a challenge.

Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.

And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.

“Gummy bear?”

Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”

“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”

He continues:

And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.

His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”

“Fuck off.”

Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.

You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.

Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”

It works. “No,” he scowls.

“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.

“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”

“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”

There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.

Then he reads—

And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own. It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway). When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and… “Kissing,” she says finally. “What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question… “Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.

—and everything goes right out the fucking window.

Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”

He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.

Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”

“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.

Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.

“See? Not as easy as it looks.”

“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”

“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”

Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. “Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.” He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines. “Please what?” “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. “Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?” Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”

“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.

You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.

But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.

“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. “Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?” Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.

“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.

“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.” Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.

This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.

This is very, very bad.

Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.

“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”

“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”

Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.

So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.

Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.

It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. “Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt. “Yeah—want you, Joon.” “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.” “I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her. Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does. She hates that he’s right. Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides. It’s perfect. Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy. “Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…” At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster. “Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.” One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing. When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.

You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.

“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.

“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”

Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”

“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”

HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423) ↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197) ↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) ↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314) ↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329) ↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) ↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15) ↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)

You do not get through recording unscathed.

You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.

Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.

It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.

The two of you had sex.

Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.

In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.

(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)

Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.

Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.

“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”

There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.

You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.

That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.

You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.

The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.

Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.

You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.

So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.

Except it isn’t.

Because Namjoon looks… different.

Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.

Today, he wears none of those things.

No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.

According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.

You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.

Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.

So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.

It doesn’t get any better.

Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.

Thirty-five minutes back home.

Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.

But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.

Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.

You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.

That’ll cure you.

You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.

Needless to say, nothing cures you.

But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.

Except—you’re not.

Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”

You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”

You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.

So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.

You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.

“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”

You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

You are fucked beyond belief.

Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?

But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”

“I forgot them.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”

Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”

This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.

There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.

“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”

Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”

“Joon—”

“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”

“Joon, that’s not—”

“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the name of our podcast.”

“Huh?”

“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since forever?”

He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”

A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”

Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.

Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.

He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”

“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”

“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not with you, preferably.”

“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”

“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.

No fucking way.

“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”

He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”

“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”

“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”

“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”

Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”

“How weird?”

“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”

He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”

God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”

“About you and Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god—”

“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”

“Oh my god—”

“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”

“Oh my god?”

“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”

“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”

Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”

“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”

“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”

“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”

Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”

Min Yoongi is a bastard.

Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.

You want to fuck Namjoon.

Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.

You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.

And then someone knocks on your door.

You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.

Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.

“Uh, hi.”

You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.

“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”

Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—

You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”

If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”

The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.

“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”

“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.

So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.

The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.

The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.

And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.

Because you’re the problem.

It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”

“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”

“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”

He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”

“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”

He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”

Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.

And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”

Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

It’s no wonder you mishear him.

Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”

Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”

“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”

“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”

There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”

You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.

All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.

And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.

No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.

So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.

But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.

“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.

Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”

Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.

Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.

The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.

“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.

Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.

“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”

He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.

Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.

You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.

“Um—”

“Holy shit.”

“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.

“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”

He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.

He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”

There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.

You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”

He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”

Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.

There’s a beat of silence, and then—

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”

You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.

It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.

He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.

But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.

It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.

Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.

Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.

He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”

“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”

You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.

Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.

Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.

“Was that okay?”

You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”

“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.

You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”

Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.

On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.

When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.

And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.

“What the fuck are you wearing—”

Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.

It’s seamless.

No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.

“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.

So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”

“Did you? How’d it go?”

“Perfect.”

It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”

who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195) ↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) ↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) ↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788) ↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325) ↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) ↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes

4K notes · View notes

gimmethatagustd · 4 months

Text

gang shit | knj

Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.

○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader

○ Rating: Sfw

○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor

○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)

○ Word Count: 1204

○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples

○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨

○ Post Date: January 1, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i

“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm.

You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please.

Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?

“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest.

You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”

Apparently, that was offensive.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip.

“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man.

“Did she?”

“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”

“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…”

Namjoon doesn’t look convinced.

You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually!

“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?”

“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.

You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck.

“She’s adorable,” you say softly.

“She’s weird as shit.”

Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs.

“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”

“Yup.”

Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown.

“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?”

You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids.

“Plus, I like being the fun parent.”

“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals.

“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you.

“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.”

Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised.

“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence.

“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”

With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are.

“You’re the one who–”

“HEY! NO HITTING!”

Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”

Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology.

“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager.

“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”

It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around.

“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon.

“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.”

“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye.

“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”

“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist.

“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?”

Oh.

“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.”

Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”

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

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

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #gang shit #100 drabble challenge

1K notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 10 months

Text

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #3

tonight i present to you, namjoon and his thick cock.

a man as beefy as namjoon has a thick cock, and maybe he gets a little feral over the way it splits open your pussy. he loves missionary, solely because he can watch how stretched out you are with every back pull, unashamed with the filth that spills from his lips as he rocks back into you. perhaps even a little enamored by how creamy your pussy becomes, thick ring of white clinging to the base of his cock.

and maybe sometimes he gets a little carried away, pulling your legs off the bed, stomach con-caved slightly. perfect for him to see his cock through your tummy when he’s fully flushed inside of you.

it would turn into somewhat of a kink for him, watching as he pulls back, only to push in and that little bulge to show once more. his head would tip back, a low groan rumbling through his chest.

maybe the second time he notices it, he gets a little more bold. gentle as he splays his fingers over your stomach, feeling each time he pushes into you. thick cock sliding beneath his hand. his hips picking up their pace, and his desperation growing tenfold; that he pushes down on your tummy.

the both of you moaning in unison, because holy shit you can feel him inside your stomach. so deep, and so thick your legs start to quiver.

“one more time” he’d beg, even after the both of you come down from your high. anything to feel that pure euphoria once more. anything to see as he punches into your stomach, one more time to fully ingrain the imagine of him so visually deep inside your cunt.

and to be a slightly more filthy. maybe he curls his hand around the bulge of his cock in your tummy, squeezing ever so slightly, extremely gentle— as if he was jerking himself off, as your walls milk him.

#bts smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #bts namjoon #namjoon x you #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts x reader

3K notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 5 months

Text

Jingle All the Way Collaboration

Coming your way this holiday season! Whether you've been naughty or nice, you'll have seven fics to unwrap by @kpopfanfictrash , @leahsfavefics , @kithtaehyung , @yoonia , @cybrsan and @sugaurora.

All second chance romance. All holiday themed. All attempting to utilize the same quote: "The holidays aren't so bad with you around." Come down the chimney, embrace your inner Vixen, and warm up this season with the Jingle All the Way collab!

Content Creator: all amazing banners are made by the truly spectacular @kithtaehyung!!

(Links to be added as fics are posted)

Title: The Ten Days of Ex-Mas

Author: @kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; hockey player au, second chance au, oh noo there was only one bed

Summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Posting Date: December 19th, 2023

Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon

Author: @leahsfavefics

Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au

Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.

Posting Date: December 21st, 2023

Title: Back to December

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au

Summary: Ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: A Christmas Fix

Author: @yoonia

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+), secret baby au, s2l au, fake dating au on the side (more on that later)

Summary: One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

Title: Everwinter

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; ex-fwb 2 lovers au, second chance au

Summary: You told him you loved him, and that was a mistake. Because years later, you both meet up with your old friend group for a holiday trip, and neither of you have forgotten that.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: Miracle of the Season

Author: @cybrsan

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; angel au, second chance au

Summary: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a familiar face pops up and you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Posting Date: December 29th, 2023

Title: A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays

Author: @sugaurora

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; second chance au

Summary: Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, an innovative talent agent promising to produce the most well-loved adult entertainment artists of the era. And that’s how you became an erotic market darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.

Ten years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with one last appearance at the biggest adult industry convention of the year. Only when you arrive, you find yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.

What’s a former porn star to do?

Posting Date: TBD

1K notes · View notes

seokjinsonlyone · 5 months

Text

this how i think bts would be if they was your husband

namjoon:

you’d have your own rooftop garden together; like he’d get someone to get it setup architecturally the way he has it envisioned in his head and to give like advice on the types of plants that are good for this set up but y’all would do all the seeding and watering and weed pulling yourselves

evening walks together around sunset through the park or around the river hand in hand where you just soak up nature and talk about any and everything

you both like the idea of having a pet but know that you're too busy to keep one regularly so you end up getting fish; he gets a cute little 20 gallon tank and like five fish but he actually does a lot of research on which fish live the best together, which food and treats they like best, the best plants and knick knacks to put inside, how to clean it, etc.; all in all takes the whole situation way more seriously than you'd thought he would; it was supposed to be sumn light for the summer time but you'd think he's filming an episode of tanked for all the time and effort he pours into it

sits side by side with you rubbing circles into your lower back whenever you need to rant about something

loves it when you get desperate for him so sometimes around the time you're ovulating he teases you; will walk around the house in nothing but his briefs with his glasses on talking in his deep voice; will invade your space like if you're in the kitchen making food or something he's gonna come up behind you and wrap that strong arm around your middle kissing up on you asking meaningless questions about what you're doing until you finally snap and drag him to the bedroom

consistently opens every door for you and pulls out your chair at restaurants even if it's five, ten years down the line

the type to never know where anything is; it's not even that you switch things up a lot it's just that he never forgot the muscle memory of where things were when he lived alone; so he's constantly calling out to you asking where something is; half the time what he looking for be in very obvious locations but his mind is just so all over the place that he overlooks it

uses you as his sounding board when he has a situation he needs handled; will just sit there and think out loud to you for minutes and hours; you don't even be saying that much really like occasionally he'll ask what you think but he appreciates having a listening ear more than anything and you're happy to be there for him even if his incessant rambling makes you wanna strangle yourself sometimes

would learn to help you take out your box braids; it makes you nervous when he first offers to help because he can be a bit rough sometimes but he's oddly gentle and diligent with the task; once he's gotten good with that you convince him to wash your hair too; and take down/wash day is less dreadful because of it

you two become a package deal; like it could be a boys night or a girl's night and you're always gonna try to bring the other with and most of the time y'alls friends don't mind like you're one of the boys and he's one of the girls so it's fine; even if he like invites some friends over the house and you stay in the room to give them some space at some point he's gonna go and check up on you; you'll just be laying in bed on your laptop or phone, watching tv or something and he's gonna lay beside you and ask what you doing make sure you're okay next thing you know 30 minutes gon go by and you'll have to remind him that he has guests over; then he's gonna convince you to come out with him and stay tucked up under his arm until his friends leave or pass out

seokjin:

draws you a bath when he knows you’ve had a long day; it’d be really nice too; he'd light your favorite candle and set it on the counter; add a fragrant moisturizing bath bomb and sprinkle in some flower petals; once you settle in he'll put down one of them over the tub trays and hand you a glass of wine and your laptop so you can watch whatever you want or stream music while you’re in the tub

loves referring to you as 'his wife'; like y'all will be with a group of your friends that knew you from the get go and they'll ask him where he got his jacket from and he'll be like "oh my wife bought it for me" and they'll be like "🥴 boi we knew her long before she was ever worried about you just say her name" aksksksk

every couple months y’all will go on cooking dates with his celebrity chef friends and their wives; which is basically them in the kitchen being loud cooking a meal he specifically chose for you and you and the wife not too far away watching them while being wined and dined

not particularly handy but he feels like as a man there’s just certain things he should be able to do; so if your sink is leaking or there’s a problem with your car battery or something he’s gonna hop on youtube and figure out how to solve it first; calls an actual repairman to deal with it if he can’t fix it without being moderately inconvenienced

insists on getting a pool installed even tho you tell him you would barely use it bc you hate having to redo your hair more than you like to swim; you actually do end up using it all the time bc he orders one of those giant canopy floats and y'all just lay up there and take naps or talk; the whole outdoor area is actually bomb tbh like there's an entire sheltered outdoor kitchen and grill patio area with fans on the ceiling for when it gets hot and a fully loaded bar; y'all honestly spend more time outside during the summer than inside and get scolded for not entertaining people more often

if you reeeaaalllyyy want him to go shopping with you he will but he’d rather just give you his card and you gather up some of your girls and y’all can go nuts together

tries to butter you up when he knows he's in trouble but it's never with anything good like he'll stop at the convenience store on the way home and pick up some things to try to sway you; he get home and you're waiting for him slightly ticked off and he's like "i know you're mad but look at what i got you and it's a cosmic brownie, sour gummy worms (his favorite candy mind you), some wet wipes, and an arizona tea

official driver of the relationship; lets you be the passenger princess of your dreams like whenever you need to get from point a to point b he’s getting you there all you gotta do is sit down and look pretty (and play decent music while he’s driving)

even if you’re not a certified Gamer Girl™️ when there’s like a new mario game or something along those lines that doesn’t require a ton of skill and know how to play you’ll no life it together; like will straight up play for like 16 hours a day until you beat it; you still force him to eat and shower however but you’re not allowed to touch the controller until he returns bc he’d be afraid you’ll lose all your lives

the type to get super close with your family; like you look over one day and see yo mama calling him and you listen to him and they're literally just catching up???; he goes out on bros days with your dad and brothers; all your cousins follow him on instagram and be sending him memes; and you just sit there tryna figure out how he singlehandedly replaced you in your family bc they be treating him better than they treat you

yoongi:

after hearing you talk about wanting a detached claw foot jacuzzi tub for the 1000th time he decides to just go ahead and get your dream house built from the ground up; gives his input in every step of the process since he has so many opinions on architecture, furniture, finishes, and overall aesthetics; sometimes there’s little disagreements when your design styles clash but in the end he makes sure that you definitely get everything you’ve ever wanted included

warms your car up for you in the morning during winter months; unimportant but i just know he would go out in a sweatshirt and some slides like barefoot toes out in 20° weather shuffling out to make sure your car is nice and cozy and the frost is off the windshield

every now and again you’ll just be chilling at home and then he’ll be like “yah go get dressed we’re going out” and then he’ll genuinely take you on one of the best dates ever; it may not be over the top every time but somehow it’s always exactly what you needed; acts nonchalant about it when you’re gushing over how great of a time you’re having; “ah it’s nothing” but he’s secretly super self satisfied bc he knows he’s killing it

sometimes he’ll be sprawled out on the couch watching basketball and you’ll be tryna tell him something but he’s so engrossed that he won’t hear a word you say so you gotta throw a pillow at him to get his attention

untangles your necklaces for you; sweeps the hair from the back of your neck and clasps it together once he's got it free

likes leaning on your shoulder when you’re in bed on the computer; not really nosy about what it is that you’re doing whether it’s work or whatever but just likes to listen to the sound of your typing as his own personal asmr; also loves it when you get your nails done like will happily pay for a new set every other week because of the tippity tapping that accompanies everything you do

sets up a joint bank account for you two like immediately bc he doesn't have anything to hide and what's his is yours; but also sets you up a separate savings account that he funnels money into biweekly bc he wants you to be okay always even if one day it has to be without him

if you're both up late and you're feeling peckish he'll whip up a quick late night snack for y'all to munch on

never really comments when your hormones throw your body system out of wack; like if you randomly had night sweats for a couple days and sweat through your clothes and blanket he'd just nudge you awake so you can dry off and turn the ac on

is extra physically affectionate whenever you start getting irritated even if he’s the source of your irritation; will grab your hand and pull you into him planting kisses on top of your head and rubbing up and down your back until you’re sufficiently pacified

hoseok:

all his numeric passcodes are related to you; like it’s either your birthday or your anniversary, the day y’all met, first date, etc.

sometimes he likes to sit on the toilet when you're in the shower and talk to you; will periodically poke his head in to check your progress depending on how long you're in there; ooos and aahs and waggles his eyebrows every time he does so

some people think you’re some kind of dictator bc his response to every proposal he receives is “let me check with my wife first”; you’re not tho he just likes running things by you bc he’s only ever okay if y’all are on the same page; sometimes you really are his scapegoat if he doesn’t wanna do something tho and you’re fine with being his excuse! you love spending time with your man!!

y’all draw lots over who has to kill the bugs in the house; he tries his best to overcome his fear for you he really does but sometimes he look at the bug and the bug look at him and his heart can’t take it; generally tho there’s less fear of y’all conquer it together

at least once a month he books a couples spa day appointment for you two; deep tissue massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, the works like you just get absolutely spoiled; his motto is that if you feel good and look good then you can be good and be good to each other; unrelated but he get a kick out of eating the cucumbers that are supposed to help soothe around your eyes

you get so used to the sound effects he makes all the time that when he’s not around you have to have some kind of background sounds whether it’s music or white noise just something to fill the air.

you both like plushies, funko pops, action figures and all that so there's a dedicated toy room in your home; all the toys that you actually care about are placed higher up and in cases to keep in good condition but things that you don't mind having some use are accessible; the whole room is carpeted and there are some fluffy rugs too; there's a 65 inch tv on one wall and a computer area for gaming as well; the whole room is illuminated via led lights; needless to say all the kids you know love when y'all babysit them; they stay in that one room the entire time except when they want a snack bc there's no eating in the toy room; jungkook also loves to randomly come and hangout in the toy room by himself

wouldn't tolerate any kind of disrespect toward you; say you went out to a restaurant and the server was being rude to you, he'd clock it so fast he'd be talking to a manager having your server swapped out and dessert on the house before you even realized what they said

y'all try new hobbies together; it's never anything you have experience or are good at which makes it even more fun as you're doing it; like you'll get one of those woobles crochet kits and spend like a month trying to figure it out in your free time and make whatever little creature you bought

never actually stops dating you; will still have an active folder with activities and restaurants he wants the both of you to go to; even if you both lack the time and energy to actually go out on a date he's lighting a candle and pulling out the fine china for you it doesn't matter that you're wearing loungewear and sitting on the floor in front of the tv; he wants you to feel special always

jimin:

intimacy between you two go crazy; you’re as close as close can be like if there were such a thing as soulmates you two would be it; you’re consistently trapped within your own bubble and even if you’re out and about it’s still almost as if no one else existed; like say y’all went out to a club music is thumping people are everywhere it’s a generally Loud environment if you softly called his name from beside him he would turn to you immediately; or someone could brush past him and it’d be whatever but if you ghosted your hand up his arm he would get goosebumps; you’re just insanely in tuned to each other

would love if you had a softer build bc he likes the way you feel like heaven when he lays on you; also he just likes squeezing at your squishy bits; he finds it equal parts amusing and satisfying; like he'll squeeze at your boob when you're half asleep in bed just to annoy you; you'll be turned on your side and his arm will be slung across your waist and he'll just inch his hand up until he reaches your boob and squeezes; giggles evilly every time you smack his hand away and won't stop until you're whining and kicking at him to leave you alone and let you sleep

sometimes you’ll build a giant fort in the living room when he’s getting overwhelmed by life complete with fairy lights strung up overhead and pillows and more blankets covering the floor to make it extra comfy; you spend all day together in there playing games and talking nonsense and eating snacks and end the night cuddled up his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck watching movies until you’re sure his head is free from all his worries

loves to be fed, literally; like when dinner time comes he will make one big plate and pull up with a fork and a knife and a waiting attitude; if you don't play along immediately he's gonna put his hands over yours and make you feed him bites until you take over; likes to feed you as well; just always sharing his food with you and expects you to do the same

he gets obsessive when you don't answer his calls; like if he knows you're not busy and he calls you and you don't answer it drives him up a wall and he will spam you with texts and at least a dozen more calls until you pick up; not even because he has anything urgent to tell you he just always craves your attention; bonus: ends every conversation by saying i love you like you could be on the phone for 15 seconds just confirming something really quickly and he's gonna make sure he's told you he loves you before you click end call

doesn’t say anything when he finds you crying just pulls you into him and lets you get it all out; once you start calming down a bit he’ll pull back slightly, gently cupping your face in his hands and swipe away all your tears; only when he’s sure the tears have come to a complete stop does he softly ask “what’s going on?”

still gets shy and flustered around you; it doesn’t stop him from being himself around you whatsoever but it’s very obvious when you have the upper hand in a situation

you can't just tell him you need an item from the store bc half the time he'll go and come back with the wrong thing; you gotta send him a picture of it and that don't even work all the time; most of his solo ventures to the store at your request end in him facetimeing you bc he swears up and down they don't have what you asked for but then you end up finding it for him and you not even there

knows you admire his art skills so he leaves little doodles on post it notes around the house; is really proud when you display the ones you find really cute in your phone case

the type to put his life in your hands; when y'all go out to eat he tells you to order for him bc "you know what i like"; will let you dress him/style his hair however bc "you know what looks good on me"; he just literally trusts and defers to your judgement as much as possible

taehyung:

the type to tighten all the jars when you’re upset with him so you’re forced to ask him for help and talk to him anyway

would try to set up a really romantic dinner for you complete with rose petals and candles and champagne on ice but he'd be so focused on creating the right ambience that he forgets to order the food and one thing bout tae is he ain't a chef and even if he was he wouldn't have enough time before you showed up so you'd end up having a pb&j and cup noodles

sometimes if he has a lot of energy but you’re asleep he’ll poke at you until you’re awake and then he’ll ask if you’re asleep and when you say yes he’ll keep messing with you until he’s able to drag you out to play with him

knows how to tie a tie but claims it looks better when you tie it so whenever he wears a suit he gets you to finish off his look; really he just likes to be manhandled by you and the grip you have around his neck does something for him

if you get him riled up in the morning he just lives there all day; partially aware of what's going on around him but undoubtedly distracted, thinking about you, wanting you; hands and eyes are glued to the phone at all times hoping you'll message him or something even if it is just you teasing him some more; he's putty in your hands and he knows it but when the day is over and y'all are both home you're his

you have to come to major compromises when it comes to decorations; like you let him have his accent wall that he puts his paintings of his basquiat-esque faces but the weird cyber bug and person shark statues and the butt chair have to go

you do majority of the cooking so he takes dish duty very seriously; will swat you away if you try to help most times; however there’s a special place in his heart for the times you ignore him and help anyway by drying the dishes and it’s you him and some music playing and you’re singing and dancing around the kitchen together

there's a legitimate argument about your use of a body pillow; he genuinely gets offended bc is he not enough for you? why can't you just cuddle him? why would you go and put the great wall of china in between you two? what's with the distance? was he too much for you? like the situation blows completely out of proportion for no reason skslklsks the argument ends when you force him to cuddle it and he instantly understands the hype behind it; that doesn't curb his jealousy towards the object however and you're only allowed to use it when he's not in bed with you

a whiny baby when he's sick; you'd think he had tuberculosis in the 12th century instead of a common cold the way he be acting; a piece of tissue stuck in his nose, piled under three blankets, shivering every five minutes on cue; you give him a good day of dealing with the dramatics after that you leave him in the room with a bottle of dayquil and a packet of vitamin c until he decides to get on with his life like a normal human being

loves planning weekend getaways for the two of you; like every other month you guys are out of town for like 3-4 days in the spirit of “rekindling”; he always rents a really nice and cozy cabin type joint and most of the trips are spent just enjoying each others company and the scenery, walking around the town latched onto his arm and eating good food; you come back from each outing refreshed and more in love than you already were

jungkook:

every sunday he checks your car to make sure it has a full tank and if it doesn’t he fills it up for you

you two have separate rooms bc you both like to have space to just exist as an individual from time to time (also it’s really nice to have a place to storm away to when you’re in a fight) but you end up cuddled up next to each other every night anyway

has a very strict laundry schedule and routine; gets annoyed if you don't do it how he likes when he's unable to

watches you while you’re getting ready; he’ll be sitting at the edge of the bed while you walk around from your closet to the dressers circling the room trying to find something to wear; you’ll be having a conversation with him the whole time and after you walk past him for the 4th time his clinginess gets the best of him and he catches you by the waist before you can fully bypass him; he pulls you in between his legs and just hugs you to him for a few moments while you run your hands through his hair

follows you around the house with his mic serenading you like three times a week

comes behind you when you’re cooking or washing dishes or something and just pats at your butt for a while and by a while i mean he won’t stop until you elbow him and threaten to cut his hands off; he just laughs and gets one more grope in before backing off

traces the contours of your face and murmurs all kinds of cute and lovely and cheesy stuff about you when you’re both in bed and he thinks you’re sleep

if you made him a good meal you’d hear about it constantly for the next week; like every other sentence is a “seriously, it was so good” and he won’t stop until you make it again; sometimes he’ll try making it himself to see if he could do better but it always tastes best coming from you

an absolute menace in the grocery store; will spend the first 15-20 minutes behaving as he grabs whatever he needs personally and once that's done he's acting a fool; doing that thing that kids do when they use the cart as a skateboard like push off on it and then hop on to ride out the wave; grabbing all kinds of junk that neither of you need; touching everything even when he has no intention of buying it; you have to grab his ear and threaten him with celibacy to get him to calm down

whenever you’re sitting next to each other could be on the couch out at dinner in bed etc he likes to play with your hand and fiddle with your ring; will often slide it off and try to fit the ring on his fingers; then he’ll put it back on and kiss your fingertips for safekeeping

a/n: i worked on this for months and months and now it’s finally here lemme know what u thought 😩🙏

1K notes · View notes

k00sblogger · 10 days

Text

✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿Better with two✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ

Synopsis: The one where your boyfriend uses you as jungkooks birthday gift

Warnings: cuckolding, masturbation, pussy eating, little dirty talk, messy blowjob.

Pairing: bf!joon & friend!jk x fem!reader

A/n: I think it's obvious enough but i'd like to state anyway that namjoon isn't attracted to jungkook in any way at all in this, i do not write member on member content.

(Requested by anon)

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

Jungkook was utterly obsessed with you, no secret about it.

He never failed to make subtle advances towards you despite the fact you were dating his friend. He was attractive, definitely- but you'd turned him down considering his best friend was your boyfriend.

It's weird, you know. But it didn't bother namjoon, and you weren't one to judge. He had his kinks, and you had yours.

To put it simply, namjoon liked watching you have sex with other people. Cuckolding.. however you wanna put it. He didn't know what it was that he liked about it, but it turned him on.

There were so many times he'd have to control himself from jerking off at just the thought of it. Which was why he didn't mind jungkooks little advances toward you, he liked it.

He also knew you thought jungkook was attractive, and he wasn't bothered by it. You're relationship was safe, and he knew you'd never do anything with jungkook without his permission. He also knew.. that you'd fuck jungkook if you knew it turned him on.

This was why whenever jungkooks birthday came, he used it to his own advantage. A gift for himself and for jungkook all in one. A gift for even you as well, because there was no doubt in his mind that you'd enjoy whatever jungkook did to you.

So, this was why you lay on your back between namjoons warm thighs now. Your boyfriend still fully clothed as you watch jungkook pull off his shirt at the edge of the bed.

Your tongue licks a wet stripe over your lips when you get the first glimpse of his abs. You were well aware jungkook was a gym rat, and also aware that he was super fit. Seeing him bare like this though.. was different.

Namjoon smirks at the wet patch growing on your lacey underwear, pulling back your thighs to reveal the spot to jungkook. "You're wet baby.." joon says, keeping a good grip on your thick thighs as jungkook begins to crawl in between them.

"And you're hard." you retort, drawing out a quiet chuckle from namjoon. You weren't wrong, as soon as he saw you undress his dick twitched.

Jungkook eyes are locked on yours, toying with his lip piercing using his tongue. He situates himself between your legs, using his middle finger to slowly pull your panties to the side so he can see everything you have to offer.

There's a thick string of slick sticking from your cunt to your panties when he moves them out of his way, and jungkook almost has to take off his pants when he feels them tighten at the sight.

"She's ready for you." joon mumbles, eager to see how jungkook pleasures you. Eager to see if he'd be able to make you cum without any directions from him.

Jungkook doesn't waste any time after namjoon practically gives him permission, quickly leaning his head down to lap up the juices that were dripping from your cunt just from looking at him take his clothes off.

Namjoon plays in your hair as jungkook gets to work, swiveling his wet tongue around your swollen clit as fast as he could. His tattooed hand rests on the inside of your thigh, not applying much pressure since namjoon was already holding your legs wide open for him.

Breathy moans escape your parted lips, eyes fluttering open and closed at the pleasure he was able to give you. Namjoon was good at eating pussy, no doubt- but this turned you on because it was so different than what you were used to.

When you being to squirm, jungkook lifts his head momentarily- giving you a look as if he was warning you. "Don't move." is all he utters, before leaning back down to continue eating your drenched pussy.

His soft lips finally take your clit into his mouth, sucking on it and then popping it out of his mouth. He repeats the movement over and over again, obsessed with the loud moans you were letting out.

He was oh so proud, this only confirmed his sexual abilities. The fact he was able to make you feel so good made him even harder. That is if that was even possible.

His dick was pressed right against the material of his boxers, a little wet spot where his tip sat from the pre cum he'd released. He resists the urge to touch himself to focus on you, his dark eyes still looking at your pleasured face as he licks wherever he could.

You whimper when he licks a long stripe from your hole to the top of your clit, liking the way it glistens under the dim light of the room with his saliva.

His chin was covered with your wetness, frantically moving his head back and forth as he licks over your cunt.

"She's close.. cmon baby, cum for him." Namjoons words only makes the pace of jungkooks tongue fasten- excited to see you finally reach a orgasm solely from his tongue on your needy clit.

"Cmon.. cum on my tongue sweetheart." jungkooks low voice softly encourages you, his thumb on your clit now working with his tongue to get you to your peak even faster.

It works, because your legs shake around his head as you try not to let your legs close in on him. He slurps up everything that you release, sitting up with cum covered lips as he watches you relax.

"She liked that..." namjoon mumbles, reaching a hand down to softly rub your sensitve pussy. You don't bother to move while you catch your breath, too lazy from the orgasm jungkook had just given you.

You get a good thirty second break before jungkook rises from the soft mattress- releasing his stiffened length from the annoying constraints of his boxers.

You can't help but stare shamelessly when you see it, his body was perfect. He had little prominent veins leading from the base up to the tip, and a slight curve that made you wanna get on top of him and ride him until you couldn't take it anymore.

It isn't until now that you see a small tattoo just below his happy trail. It's too small for you to read from the distance, but you know you liked it.

You look away for a moment when your boyfriend slips his his thumb into your mouth, staring at your pretty face from above since your still lying between his thighs.

"Y'know.. it's jungkooks birthday." he utters, and you nod, sucking on his finger out of instinct. He smiles at the act, shoving his finger even farther into your mouth when he notices how you welcome it.

"It would only be write to return the favor yeah?" he asks you, and thats when you see jungkook coming closer. Namjoon helps you flip over, getting you onto your bruised knees right in front of his horny friend.

The slight pain in your bruised knees reminds you of the way you were just in the same position below namjoon a couple of days before.

You nod again, staring at jungkook as he stands above you with pure confidence. He grips the length of himself in his tattooed hand, holding it just at the base with his tip right above your waiting lips.

"You want it?" jungkook questions, and you notice how namjoon moves out of the way- lowering his sweatpants.

"Yes.. jungkook." you mumble, and he takes a hold of the nape of your neck to push his mushroom tip past your lips. You immediately taste the salty pre cum that was left on his tip, but you don't think much about it when he reaches the back of your throat.

His pelvis is touching your face, groaning at the feeling of your mouth wrapped tight around him. It felt even better since he'd thought about this moment so often, stroking himself to the thought of you letting him fuck your face.

He release a gutural groan as he finally pulls back, sinking back into your mouth right after. He doesn't give you any breaks, fucking into your mouth just to hear you gag around him.

"Such a slut.. letting me fuck your mouth in front of your boyfriend." he chuckles, biting his lip at how your salivas now smeared over the length of him.

His fingers massage your head a bit, obsessed with how you weren't complaining at all. Sucking his dick with no back talk, he liked that about you.

You don't forget that your boyfriends still watching all of this unfold, and you even look over at him while jungkooks still inside your mouth. His sweatpants were just below his balls, and he was touching himself slow and steady.

His lip was tucked between his teeth, letting out little moans everytime the tip of jungkooks dick reached the back of your throat. He enjoyed the way you kept gagging, but you took it anyways- like the good girl you always were.

"Pretty baby.. sucking me so good." he mumbles, hips moving at a crazy pace as he bobs your head back and forth on his dick. Your eyes are clamped shut, focusing only on making him cum.

His little grunts are loud, the only thing heard aside from your muffled whimpers.

When your eyes divert back over to your boyfriend, he's already came- dribbles of cum falling from his tip and leaking onto his pelvis and the length of him.

The sight of it all made you wet all over again, and the only reason you don't get up and go clean him up is because your too busy with jungkooks dick down your throat.

Finally, his hips are slow to a complete stop. He pushes himself in to the very brim when he cums, sighing as it all shoots down your throat. Of course, you swallow everything he gives to you- fuck spitting.

You take in a huge breath of air when he finally pulls back, and as your wiping your lips you see the tattoo again. This time your close enough to his pelvis to read it.

Jungkook doesn't notice how your now looking at him with squinted eyes, reading the sentence tattooed on his body.

"Lick it."

How fucking ironic. You were not surprised at all, with the way jungkook just had you sucking him off- he obviously was a whore himself.

He liked having sex, who could blame the guy?

You stand to your feet when namjoon walks back over, his boxers now covering the part of him that was naked just a second or two before. He kisses your cheeks as jungkook puts his clothes back on, tucking his softening dick back into his blue jeans.

When jungkook turns around to face the two of you again, namjoon pulls you to his side- gesturing at jungkook. "What do you say y/n?"

Oh shit- you almost forgot.

"Happy birthday."

#bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #bts x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jk smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon fanfic #namjoon one shot #namjoon

633 notes · View notes

spookyserenades · 15 days

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 20.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!

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

Previous Chapter

Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock.

“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”

“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her.

“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building.

The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow.

“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit.

“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him.

Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them.

“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him.

“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”

Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping.

“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist.

“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound.

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen.

“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”

Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point.

“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”

“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression.

“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”

Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her.

“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others.

“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long.

Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer.

“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash.

“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”

Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch.

“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”

Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers.

Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually.

Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone.

“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”

“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”

Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.

“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”

“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely.

“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”

Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss.

“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews.

With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi.

Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers.

“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously.

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face.

Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back.

The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there.

“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”

“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”

“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”

Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.

“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”

“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”

Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick.

Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy.

“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.

Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction.

“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”

Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child.

“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger.

“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”

Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face.

“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”

Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke.

Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom.

“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”.

“Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips.

“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”

“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers.

Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand.

Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom.

“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling.

“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face.

Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz.

“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”

“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”

It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning.

“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”

“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much.

“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”

“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere.

“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations.

“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”

“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys.

“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”

Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin.

“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again.

“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”

“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”

Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically.

“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”

“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”

Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text.

Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳

Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.

Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen.

“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him.

“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”

Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back.

“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say.

“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”

“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”

“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”

Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification.

“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer.

“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more.

“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”

Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her.

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”

“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”

Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip.

“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery.

Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed.

“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?”

“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans.

Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time.

“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”

“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”

Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply.

“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”

“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly.

Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling.

“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper.

“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”

“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”

Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her.

Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.

“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”

“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears.

“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”

“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round.

“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”

“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”

Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into.

A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion.

Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid.

Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet.

“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground.

“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone.

“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together.

“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing.

“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”

“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”

“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?”

Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation.

“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”

“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”

“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”

Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well.

Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding.

“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”

“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.

“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.

“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side.

“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”

“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”

“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”

“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face.

“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away.

“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face.

Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood.

Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting.

“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden.

“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head.

“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”

Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture.

Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head.

“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it.

“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone.

“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”

Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly.

“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”

Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up.

Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it.

“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”

Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs.

Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily.

“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway.

Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall.

Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her.

“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth.

“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor.

“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.

With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins.

“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday.

“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor.

“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”

Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on.

After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos.

“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one.

Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor.

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out.

Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing.

Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration.

Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping.

“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”

Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink.

“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers.

Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well.

“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat.

“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle.

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table.

“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”

Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass.

“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently.

“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”

“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”

“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step.

“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”

“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung.

“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”

“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose.

“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve.

“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing.

“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction.

“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp.

“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic.

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in.

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?”

Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who.

“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.

“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”

“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.

Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek.

Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch.

“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks.

Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.

“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.

“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”

Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out.

Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable.

“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him.

“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”

“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”

Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.

After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van.

“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home.

The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless.

“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television.

“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times.

“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”

“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”

Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine.

The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.

Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s.

The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff.

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway.

Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her.

“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.

Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact.

“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”

After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them.

“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”

Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed.

“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”

She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth.

“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering.

“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering.

“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”.

“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”

“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions.

While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow.

“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house.

“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately.

“What is your name?”

Nothing.

“How old are you?”

Nothing, again.

“Why are you here?”

Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop.

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box.

“Who lives here?”

Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area.

It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded.

Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together.

“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”

“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”

“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?”

“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face.

“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house.

“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van.

Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up.

All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside.

Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed.

There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard.

A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him.

Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas.

“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes.

“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”

Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low.

Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk.

“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”

“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”

Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap.

“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”

Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck.

“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom.

“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”

“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it.

A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back.

“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”

Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound.

“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her.

“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”

Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips.

Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features.

“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.

“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”

Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace.

“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension.

Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in.

However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment.

There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control.

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”

“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly.

“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized.

“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”

Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog.

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”

A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his.

He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim.

Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest.

Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make.

Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers.

“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey.

Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in.

“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”

“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”

Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin.

“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again.

“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”

Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards.

Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once.

“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”

Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane.

“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist.

Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously.

The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail.

“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there.

“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!”

Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”

Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane.

“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him.

“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”

Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead.

Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt.

“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat.

“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock.

“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”

Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw.

Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out.

“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”

“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?

“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”

Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly.

“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh.

Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.

“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts.

Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously.

“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”

With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush.

“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white.

Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair.

“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself.

Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of.

“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”

Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering.

“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”

With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together.

“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”

Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw.

“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows.

“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”

Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly.

“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”

“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”

Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it.

Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in.

They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows.

“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”

“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.

Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside.

“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”

Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night.

“Is it bad?”

Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk.

“Did Jeongguk listen?”

“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar.

“What is your name?”

Static.

“How old are you?”

More static.

“Why are you here?”

Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question.

“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling.

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.”

Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked.

“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot.

“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”

“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section.

“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play.

“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room.

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @goooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @minjianhyung

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

419 notes · View notes

chateautae · 1 year

Text

stretch you out | knj. & jjk. (m)

banner by the lovely kiri @rkivian !! <33

➵ summary: you have a plan for your crappy, diabolical ex who’s set on ruining your life; making him jealous by snagging a raunchy photo with two hot employees at the gym. what you didn’t have a plan for? befriending the mischievous pair to aid in your revenge and ending up underneath not just one, but both of them.

➵ pairing: gym employee!namjoon x f. reader x gym employee!jungkook

➵ genre: college!au, strangers to friends to lovers!au, porn but with plot :), the dIRTIEst smut, fluff

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 24k

➵ warnings: swearing, toxic masculinity (the ex), heavy making out, sexual tENSION, explicit sexual content, threesome <3, dom!namjoon & jungkook, sub!reader, big dicc!namjoon & jungkook, praising!! with a side of humiliation/degradation, use of slut, breast fondling, dirty talk, size kink cause this features our bIG BEEFY VIRGOS, delicious amounts of teasing, lots of ear-licking/sucking, pussy fondling, pussy-eating, clit play, finger-sucking, oral (m. receiving) x2, spanking, hair-pulling, ball-fondling, deep-throating, face-fucking, fingering, swallowing, unprotected sex (pls be safer!!), begging, roughhh sex, voyuerism, exhibitionism, slight possession kink, facial hehe, multiple orgasms, cum-eating, face-sitting/riding, double penetration, spitting, creampie, aftercare <33

➵ a/n: YAYYY it's here!! this was supposed to be me namkook september birthday gift but ugh life really got in the way! pls forgive me and enjoy, your feedback means the world to me <3 ALSO thank you endlessly to @rkivian for creating this pretty banner for me!! (pls excuse mistakes i did not have a beta pFT)

“Hobi, you know I’m not gonna do that.”

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s the only solution.”

“Hobi, I love you, but I am not going to get revenge dick.” You scold your beloved best friend Hobi over the phone as you saunter towards the gym, babbling to him through your headphones.

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, this is literally the only way. If Jack’s gonna be an ass about this, then you get to be an ass, too. I’m so sick of that loser talking shit about you and thinking he’s getting back at you by hoeing around.”

Hobi’s defensive words touch you, entering your campus gym with a lighter heart. You smile politely at the desk workers once your membership is swiped, making your way towards your usual equipment.

“He can hoe around all he wants, Hobi, but getting revenge dick isn’t fair to the guy I do it with. That’s using someone and I don’t wanna stoop to Jack’s level.” You rebuttal, seating yourself with a plop on a bench, tying your shoelace.

“But that’s because Jack’s not letting the other girls know. If you have a willing partner who’s down for a revenge scheme, then you’re not using them at all.”

You guffaw at that, starting your first set with a shake of your head. It’s no secret your ex Jack Lowen has been the epitome of a devil’s spawn lately, enough that it’s a hot and juicy rumour campus is devouring. To say your break up was messy was an understatement, your break up was a disaster, enough that Jack transformed from a sweet, loving boyfriend into a 14-year-old bully with a wounded ego.

Your break up was on the grounds of a shitload of things; jealousy, incompatibility issues, lack of ambition, but the one factor that pushed Jack over the edge was the absolute unavoidable; you thought the sex was medicore.

“You’re fucking with me, Hobi, there’s no way anyone would just be down for revenge sex with no strings attached.” You were right in saying that, except, you’re also knowledgeable of Jack’s recent escapades to demonstrate he, in fact, wasn’t mediocre at sex. Whether it was to prove something or genuinely improve himself, you’re unsure, but Jack has disgustingly sworn nearly every female he’s banged into secrecy, or at least, lying to preserve his reputation.

He’s become the very definition of scum, and your heart only goes out to the women he’s manipulating and using.

“Hey, first of all, many people would be down for meaningless sex with you; you’re hot.” A small smile finds your face despite the shitty situation, but not because of his compliment, because Hobi’s an ass.

“Thanks for lying, asshole.”

“Damn, and I thought my sarcasm wasn’t detectable.” Hobi kisses his teeth. “Well, anyway, the second part of my speech is that I never mentioned sex, I just meant that if you ask, there are people that can totally help you with making someone jealous. It doesn’t have to be something drastic like sex.”

Intrigued, you let the idea simmer. While Hobi may have rambunctious ideas that have once landed you drunkenly fishing your leg out a frozen lake, this may be one of his moments. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Jack’s ego is the size of Russia and he turns into a little bitch when it’s threatened, Y/N. If he even sees you with another guy, he’ll be shitting the bed.”

You cringe. “That’s disgusting.”

“And in fact true; why did you date this guy again?”

“Because as shitty as a guy he is now, he was never like this before.” You answer in argument, but it’s not long before disappointment taints your heart. It truly upsets you to see how much Jack has allowed something so small to entirely destroy his once kind-hearted character. He was pure and good and kind, he was everything a girlfriend could’ve asked for, he just simply needed to take some pointers on his game.

Turns out questioning a man’s game is the key to triggering his fragile masculinity.

“Bleh, forget him. There are plenty of guys who are everything he was and actually know how to fuck. You’re literally at the gym right now. Go hit on some muscly dude and get his number.” Hobi suggests, and you have to snicker, clicking about on the elliptical and setting it to your needs.

“What does being at the gym have to do with anything?”

You hear Hobi scoff as you begin exercising, his tone ever-so matter-of-fact. “Guys that work out are much better at sex, duh?”

Your eyes widen, dryly laughing. “Hobi, there’s no way I’m going up to a random guy at the gym right now and asking him to fuck me. That would literally be the equivalent of me being goddamn Jack!”

“Y/N, like I said, it doesn’t have to be sex. Start with something harmless, maybe get a number and either post something on your story or send something to Jack.”

You furrow your brows together, attempting to map out where exactly there’s a good idea in that. “Hobi, that would be adding fuel to the fire.”

“You’re only adding wood to the fire with something small like this, Y/N, not goddamn kerosene. Jack needs to know you’re not taking this sitting down, he’s been bragging about having silenced you for weeks and I’m fucking tired of hearing it.”

Hobi’s protectiveness brightens your face, sighing when you see his point. “Alright, you’re right. I can’t have that asshole thinking I’m crying into my pillow every night over him.”

“Exactly, be a boss bitch and show him that he’s not even phasing you.”

Feeling empowered, you speed up your elliptical, letting Hobi’s words and your newfound determination drive you. “You’re fucking right, Hobi. He’s the bottom of the goddamn barrel and I’m not fishing for scraps.”

“Hell no you aren’t, now go grab a sexy mofo and do something about it!”

You and Hobi giggle together before you end your call, endlessly thanking him for being a wonderful friend. You were genuinely grateful Hobi has always looked out for you; being an active member at your school’s athletic center meant he knew nearly every athlete on campus, but also knew the “locker room talk” any of the teams had. He’d always thought of jocks as diseases and wanted you permanently immune to them.

But alas, Jack wiggled his way into your life when you found out he was your co-worker’s brother at a work dinner, and the rest is now horrible history. You’d think a volleyball player would be incredibly professional, well-mannered and poised, but jocks are jocks, and he and his friends are pretentious pricks.

You roll your eyes recalling the way they all immediately turned on you, despising their hideous culture of mob mentality. Anyone that became your friend was now an enemy fuelling Jack’s idea to fuck any woman willing to have him—you shiver at the thought of such corruption.

Nevertheless, with Hobi’s advice now frocling about in your mind, you get to thinking. ‘A piece of wood, not kerosene’ you think, attempting to concoct something subtle. Outwardly fucking another man would only stoop you to his level, but you wanted to be crafty, tasteful, make Jack’s blood boil as he slowly witnesses how little of a shit you give about him.

Submerged in deep thought, you survey the gym, getting a look at the pile. You conjure a mental list of the men you found attractive, and ruled out anyone far from your type.

That was difficult, though, because a campus gym was usually filled with self-centered athletes who advertised their muscles for a fuck—not your type at all.

Sighing, you flicker towards the receptionist area when you hear noise, brushing over the usual workers until your jaw quite literally drops.

You spot the two most gorgeous men you have ever seen in your life.

You nearly choke, almost slipping up on the elliptical until your brain begins functioning again. You only started hitting the gym a couple weeks ago, and have never seen these two here before, but by the looks of their attire they’re definitely employees.

They weren’t just brawny, they were deliciously tall with striking features individual to each. One was dressed in a grey t-shirt and had mesmerizing dragon eyes. He was certainly wider, indicative of someone who works out often, but his smile is utterly to die for when you detect dimples on his face.

The other was lethal, too. A sleeve of tattoos sprawled up his arm as he sported a silver chain and a loose black t-shirt. You noticed his cute eyes and button nose pleasantly complemented his small, pink lips. The cute features on his face funnily contrasted his bulky body, though—he must do some form of boxing or vigorous training.

Smacking your chest to breathe, you blink multiple times and focus on the gym mirror in front of you. You tell yourself no; these gorgeous men are totally out of your league and you need to stay in line.

But your pesky eyes keep sliding in their direction, eating up the scene of them chatting away with people who swoon over them.

Completely valid, you think. You’re in the same boat, despising that Hobi’s advice keeps ringing in your head. You just know even being seen with one of them would get Jack’s blood boiling, deliciously so. Your mind is brewing, contemplating how you can cook up a good revenge scheme. Hobi did say you didn’t have to get sex from someone, it could be any stranger at least willing to make someone jealous.

Perhaps a photo would suffice; posting on your story or ‘accidentally’ sending Jack something should get the deed done.

But now you’re fucked. How on Earth are you going to approach either one of the beautiful strangers and ask for a photo with them? That’s just creepy, borderline fan behaviour that’d make them laugh in your face.

But then again, it’s just a photo. All you have to tell them is that they’re simply part of a revenge scheme. You’re sure if someone asked you for a photo to make some shitty ex jealous, you’d agree.

You’re not exactly normal, though.

Wrestling with your inner sanity, you’re so distracted your vision strays from the gym mirror, deep in thought. You flicker upwards to solve your goddamn turmoil until you nearly jump out of your own skin.

The two strangers are looking at you through the reflection.

They smoothly abort their mission once your eyes connect, but you know they were looking at you, and you know the flicker of desire that flashed in their gaze. Elated, your confidence skyrockets, practically jumping for joy once you realize you’re not entirely insane.

They’re just people, Y/N, not everyone’s an ass like Jack.

Exhaling a deep breath, you stop your exercising, grip your phone, and mentally conjure a socially-acceptable script.

Settling on the floor, you turn on your heel, flitting across the room to find the pair of hotties now at work. They’ve switched their shift with the previous workers, the one with tattoos managing the front desk and the other welcoming gym members.

You inhale and exhale again, preparing yourself for the absolute worst. The most they’d do is say no, right? And there should be no harm in asking, it’s just a photo, not like you’ll end up with either of them kidnapping you.

Persevering, you question yourself each step you take in their direction, on the cusp of either jumping ship or risking a wreckage. Your internal monologue runs out before you’re a couple of feet from the pair, and you’re unavoidable now.

Their eyes settle on you, and your mouth opens before you can review your words. “Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt you guys but do you have a minute?”

The one with tattoos tilts his head, almost adorably so. “Of course, is there something we can help you with?”

“Whatever you need, ma’am.” The bulkier one adds on.

“So, um, this may sound weird, but hear me out,” you caution, politely smiling. “I’m caught in this dumb back and forth with my ex and need to post a photo on my story as revenge. Is it okay if I take a photo with either one of you guys? I promise it would only take five seconds.”

You ramble out the words so stupidly, the internal scream you let out is agonizing. The pair stares at you like they’ve never heard this combination of words in a sentence before, and you’re certain you’re doomed. On the verge of crying out in embarrassment, you prepare a failsafe.

“Actually, nevermind, it was stupid to ask–”

“Woah, hey, where do you think you’re going?” Dragon eyes gorgeously smiles, and an arrow is shot through your heart.

Doe eyes on the other side of the desk hides his chuckle with his fist. “Yeah, we didn’t even answer yet.”

Smiling shyly, you motion for them to speak. “May I be privy to the answer?”

“Certaintly, but you gotta give us more context. A revenge scheme? An ex?” Tattoos queries through a laugh.

Feeling cheeky, you rest your elbow on the desk and slightly tilt your head, eyes dancing when you regard him. “How’s about I tell you after you take the photo?”

“Ouu, she’s crafty.” Dragon eyes hums, moving his head side to side in contemplation. “I’d say yes to the photo, but I have a suggestion.”

“What suggestion?”

“I think you should take a photo with the both of us; that’d be good for a revenge scheme, right?”

Choking on thin air, you recover swiftly, blinking multiple times. “Wait, you’d both agree to take a photo with me to get back at my ex?”

“Sure,” Tattoos casually shrugs with his arms crossed, carefully looking down at you—these men are huge. “You said back and forth which sounds like your ex is being vengeful, too. Maybe a photo with the both of us would get them to back off? Not to mention, you’re super cute.”

You stand stunned for a good minute, wondering how on Earth you’re even here right now. Tattoos’ complement has you twirling your hair, cheeks warm with giddiness. You considered rejection, humiliation, hell, even a scenario where you slip and die, never did you think they’d not only agree, but offer the both of them.

“Thank you, and you’re right, a photo with the both of you would be a slap in the face.”

“For sure,” Dragon eyes assures you. “How do you wanna take the photo, by the way? Selfie style?”

You contort your lips in thought, tapping the bottom one in contemplation. “Hmm, I’m actually not sure what’s best.” You trail. “Do you guys have any suggestions? What kinda photo would make a man’s blood boil?”

Both delicious beasts get to thinking, tattoos leaning on the desk as his gears shift while dragon eyes flexes his jaw—you’re seconds from melting in your spot.

“Well, I don’t think a selfie would cut it.” Tattoos eventually says. “A selfie looks too friendly, and you want revenge, right?”

“You’re right, we need something not exactly ‘friendly’. Why don’t we try a mirror selfie?”

You’re intrigued by dragon eyes’ thinking. A mirror selfie would be perfect considering it shows off everyone in the photo, and that’s exactly what you needed—Jack being rageful over you sandwiched between two strong, sexy men.

You adore this idea.

“You know what? If you’re both willing, that sounds great.”

“Of course, we’re down. Why don’t we take the photo over there?” Tattoos ticks his head in the direction of the gym mirrors, lining the wall from ceiling to floor. With a nod of your head, the gorgeous pair smiles politely as you return the gesture, allowing them time to abandon their work and accompany you.

By the time you’re in front of the mirror, you can hear how fast your heart is racing, brimming with excitement, but plastering on a facade of calm. “Alright, so a mirror selfie, how do we wanna do this?”

When you turn to address the beefy men, tattoos tongues his cheek. “Well, you did say this is for revenge, so you want to make him jealous, right?”

Cheeks warming, you confirm. “Yes, I need a photo that would make him jealous.”

“We should look close in the photo, then.” Dragon eyes suggests. “Are you okay with us touching you?”

Now, you feel as though lava has seeped into your face. Never has a man actually asked your permission to touch you. Your breath silently hitches, but your small stutter gives you away. “Y-yeah, you guys can touch me.”

“Damn, you’re willing to trust complete strangers just to get back at your man? What did this guy do?” Tattoos incredulously asks.

“Please; he’s not my man, he’s my ex for a reason.” You snort. “And maybe I’ll tell you everything after you take the photo, kind sir?” You innocently flash him a pout, your hands replicating a flower pose.

Dragon eyes heartily laughs. “Cute and funny, I like her.”

Tattoos chimes in. “And she works out, too. Her ex is missing out.”

Biting back a smile, you clear your throat, accessing your camera on your phone. “Well, I’m gonna stand in the middle, and you guys can touch me however you choose.” You immediately feel like slapping yourself for handing them that kind of permission. You turn around, refuting your words with a narrow-eyed look. “But if either of you get too comfortable, I’ll hand your asses to you—my dad’s a cop.”

You watch their eyes widen with shock, tattoos bringing his hands up in surrender. “You got it.”

“We’re not sleazy, I promise.” Dragon eyes eases you.

“Cool,” you nod, whirling around again to face the mirror, and positioning your phone in front of your face. “I’ll take the photo when you guys are in position.”

Unsuspecting, you slightly pose for your photo, your weight on leg as you tilt your head, ready for the boys to allocate themselves—you’re left speechless when they do.

Tattoos temptingly slides his hands around your torso, his veiny hands resting comfortably on your back and stomach. His touch makes you feel fiery hot, igniting an insatiable flame inside you. You’re not sure how long someone needs to be touch deprived to feel this way, but you feel idiotic when his lips suddenly caress your cheek, dampening your panties.

Dragon eyes only worsens your strife. He cleverly places his hand over your midriff, just above his friend’s hand, his other softly casting your hair away from your face. His lips press against the crown of your head, conveniently hiding his face.

The squeal you want to let out is animalistic; when these two suggested a ‘close’ photo to make Jack jealous, you didn’t think they meant being all over you. Your pussy inadvertently clenches, toes curling as your mind screams vile thoughts you shouldn’t speak aloud.

You quickly snap your photos, changing angles and such for a variety of shots. But with every snap of a photo, the two strangers slightly change their pose or glide their hands over you. Your skin heats up, seconds from becoming a babbling, pathetic mess. You clear your throat (and your mind) and hastily lower the camera.

Tattoos releases you and dragon eyes steps back, both men smiley and eager.

“Did it look good?” Tattoos asks.

“Y-yeah, it looked really good.” You answer, quaking in their oh-so-gorgeous presence.

“Can we take a look?”

You nod at dragon eyes as you step closer and showcase the photo, tattoos whistling. “Damn, that’d totally make a guy jealous.”

“Yeah, this is the best ‘fuck you’ I can think of.” Dragon eyes agrees, high-fiving tattoos.

“Thank you guys for doing this,” you speak sincerely. “I must’ve wasted your time.”

“Hey, you didn’t waste our time at all. You’re good.” Dragon eyes soothes your worry.

“He’s right,” tattoos piggy backs, “just hope your ex backs off.”

You smile kindly at them, holding your phone to your chest. “Well, thank you again. See you guys around.” You immediately turn on your heel to vacate the area, needing to sprint away as far as possible in order to goddamn breathe—you’re not granted the chance when tattoos calls out.

“Hey, wait a minute!”

Pausing, you slowly face them. “Yes?”

“You know, you should get our numbers just in case. What if you need our services again?”

Nearly coughing like a cat with a hairball, you compose yourself. “Your numbers?”

“Yup. Unless you think our business wasn’t good enough, were the photos that bad?” Dragon eyes clicks his tongue and shakes his head, feigning disappointment.

“No, not at all! I just… wow, I didn’t expect you guys to be completely okay with that and let me come to you again.”

“Of course, it’s the ex that’s the problem, not you.” Tattoos waves off, leaning against an exercise machine nearby. “You didn’t tell us what guy did, by the way, now that we’ve taken the photo.”

You’re ready to give the man a straight answer, until your confidence decides to take over. You lightly nibble on your lip, eyes hazing over with temptation. “How’s about I tell you two next time?”

“There’s gonna be a next time?” Dragon eyes queries, his irises a playful shade.

“Of course, since you two want my number and all. It’s for a next time, isn’t it?”

Both men let out light chuckles and pretty smiles, clearly entertained by you.

“Yup, cute and funny.” Tattoos repeats.

“And crafty.” Dragons eyes revists his previous words. “Hand us your phone, cutie.”

Suppressing the warmth in your cheeks, you open your contacts and hand over the device, watching them add their numbers. You can’t help but feel the bottom of your stomach blazing with electricity, causing your sex to pulse and your thighs to squish together. How could they look so effortlessly sexy while simply typing on your phone?

You’re so distracted by drooling over them, you barely notice when tattoos hands over your phone. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“I’m Namjoon.” The other declares.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook and Namjoon. I’m Y/N.” You smile widely, sending both of their numbers a text so they can add your contact. You tuck your foot behind the other then, mesmerized by their beauty. “Your services were highly appreciated today.”

“As was your presence.” Jungkook adds a wink that pierces your chest, abating your smile by tonguing your cheek.

“Hope your ex seriously backs off after this, Y/N.” Namjoon politely wishes. “Get home safe.”

“Thank you, guys. Take care as well” You bid the beautiful pair a farewell with a wave, quickly stepping towards the gym doors so they couldn’t hear the squeal that leaves your mouth.

“See, I told you it would work.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hobi.”

You file down your nails, rolling your eyes at Hobi’s ‘told you so’ moment. He kisses his teeth through the screen, laying down in this bed on the FaceTime screen.

“I most certainly will not; told you all you had to was talk to some guys. That story post was genius! One of your brightest moments indeed.”

“I’ve had smarter moments.”

“Debatable.”

Sending him a narrow-eyed look, you return to filing. “Did the post really look that good?”

Hobi blows a raspberry. “Y/N, I had people asking me who the guys were. Which good job, they looked hella hot. Are they athletes? I’ve never seen em’ around here.”

“Don’t know, actually. We never got to talking about each other.” You reflect on that, now regretting it. “I’ll just ask them next time, I guess.”

“Hello? Next time?” Hobi queries.

Your lips shyly purse together then, evilly giggling. “What? I totally didn’t say next time.”

“Yes you did, bitch. Now spill!”

“Ugh, fine.” You acquiesce, setting down your filer to discuss things seriously. “They made this comment where if I need their ‘services’ again, I should get their numbers.”

“Holy shit, so you got their numbers?”

“Yeah.” You attempt to say that without a proud smile, biting it back.

“Y/N, I can see how badly you wanna squeal. Just let it the fuck out and stop trying to be one of those ‘different’ bitches.”

“Hobi!” You tut him, but ultimately let a wide smile paint your face. “Okay, I honestly have no clue how I accomplished that, but they didn’t mind me contacting them again to make Jack jealous.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. They were super sweet but so sexy, too. I think I’m in love, Hobi.”

“Valid, they were drop dead gorgeous.” He comments, pausing his video to most likely type someone a message. “You better let me meet them one day. Did you text them after you got their numbers?”

“Actually—“ Right when you’re going to respond to Hobi, your phone vibrates with a message. Curious, you peek at the message, words jumbles in your throat—it’s Jungkook.

The preview of his message makes you especially giddy.

Jeon Jungkook: hey, it’s jungkook from the gym :)

Jeon Jungkook: did you get home safe?

“Y/N, what were you saying? Why are you so quiet?”

“Holy shit…” You marvel with shock, excitedly bouncing your feet on the floor. How on God’s Earth were you receiving a messahe from him first? And such a sweet one at that? “Hobi, you won’t believe this—“

Right then, another text appears at the top of your phone, revealing another contact.

Kim Namjoon: hey Y/N, it’s namjoon from earlier today. were you able to get home safely?

With widened eyes, you malfunction, chuckling to yourself. “Wow, now I’m genuinely shocked.”

“What, Y/N?”

“Both Namjoon and Jungkook just texted me, they asked if I got home safely.”

“No fucking way, what are you doing talking to me? Go text them back! And tell me all about it later.”

“Okay, okay!” You laugh as you quickly wave to Hobi, ending the FaceTime call to open their messages. At first, you want to reply to them separately, but decide on something different, grinning like an idiot.

10:43 PM: hi guys, I got home safe, thank you for asking :)

Jeon Jungkook: damn, a group chat? looks like we’re officially partners in crime

Kim Namjoon: damn straight

Kim Namjoon: has anything happened with your ex, Y/N?

10:46 PM: nothing yet, but I don’t expect nothing. he always retaliates

Jeon Jungkook: what an asshole, good thing you have our services

Jeon Jungkook: we’re happy to provide

Kim Namjoon: what he said ^^

10:50 PM: thank you guys, it really means a lot

Jeon Jungkook: no problemm

Kim Namjoon: are you coming to the gym tomorrow, Y/N?

10:51 PM: it’s my off day tomorrow, but I’m coming by the day after

Kim Namjoon: nice, we’ll see you then

Jeon Jungkook: ^^

Jeon Jungkook: gonna log off for the night, get some good sleep, Y/N

Kim Namjoon: me too, goodnight Y/N

10:53 PM: goodnight, guys

10:53 PM: I’m definitely gonna sleep easier tonight knowing i have your services >_<

Jeon Jungkook: we’re glad :)

Kim Namjoon: we’re here if you ever need a hand again :)

2:34 PM: shit, you’re not coming Joon?

joon: I can’t, I can’t believe I forgot about this assignment

koo: rip broski

2:35 PM: awh man, well good luck with your assignment, I hope you do well!

joon: thanks, y/n :)

2:35 PM: npp, so only you’ll be at the gym, right Jungkook?

koo: yes ma’am, come by whenever

2:36 PM: I’m coming by now

The next week of knowing Jungkook and Namjoon had brought unprecedented excitement to your life, and for once, not thinking about that asshole Jack.

Who knew asking a couple of strangers to take a photo with you could lead to genuine friendship? Not only did your energies match, but even your interests, too. It wasn’t long before your groupchat was filled with either senseless humour, Mark Wahlberg memes or discussing the intricate rankings of all Gotei 13 squad captains from Bleach. To say your synergy was enjoyable was an understatement, it was goddamn immaculate.

It felt good to surround yourself with good, ambitious men who regarded you with such respect. Jungkook and Namjoon were both physiotherapy majors aiming to eventually open their own clinic. The two best friends met back in middle school, and even with a year separating them in age, they’d grown incredibly close to one another.

They were both witty, smart, caring and supportive. It shocked you to earn such kind texts from them and meet them at the gym nearly everyday; it allowed you to forget all about Jack and his toxicity.

Waltzing into the campus gym now, your eyes meet Jungkook’s upon your entrance, who lights up with a spellbinding smile—he’s so devastatingly gorgeous.

“Y/N! Hey, glad you could make it.” He greets you, holding out his fist for you to bump over the desk. You meet him in the middle and break away with the sound of an explosion.

“Back at you, Jeon. I just feel bad for Joon, I hope he can finish his assignment tonight.”

“Ah, don’t worry. Joon’s the smartest person I know, he can definitely finish it and still get an A.” Jungkook asserts with a shrug, next motioning towards the gym equipment. “Remind me again, you said you needed help with lifting the other day, right?”

Following his hand gesture, a light bulb pops up above your head. “Oh, yeah. I’m having a really hard time getting into it. I’m not sure about the right position and always end up hurting myself.”

“Damn, how bad you gotta be to be hurting yourself?”

You roll your eyes before punching Jungkook’s bicep over the counter—you hate to admit how rock solid it felt. Jungkook acts as though you made a real impact, giggling beautifully. “I was kidding, cutie. Let me help you out.”

“And who says I want your help now?” You promiscuously eye him, hands snug on your hips.

Jungkook lets out a cute chuckle before abandoning the front desk, rounding it to clasp his deft hands over your shoulders. He lowers himself to your height, so close you could see the little mole underneath his pretty, pink set of lips—you suck in a breath.

“I did, Y/N. Now let’s get you over there and stretch you out first, hm?”

His words leave you speechless, a surge of arousal blooming inside you. Nodding, Jungkook flashes you a coy grin observing your reaction and walks towards the weightlifting area, following him closely. You remove your sweater as Jungkook chooses how much you should lift, analyzing your figure and computing your strength.

He even suggests specific stretches for you, nearly crumbling into a horny pile of mush when he hovers so closely around you, eyes glued to your body. He’s clearly watching you simply for the accuracy of your stretches, but surely this is affecting him, too? You couldn’t help but imagine your body bent in all sorts of ways for him…

Your mind is yanked out of the gutter when Jungkook advises you to stand in position for the lifting, situating yourself behind the bar.

“Don’t you have to be managing the front?” You query, wondering if he can spend this time with you.

“Eh, Oliver’s there. Told him to keep an eye out.”

Accepting that, you clear your throat, eyes settling on Jungkook. He was so effortlessly scorching hot, it was painful. You watched as he suddenly exhaled in complaint, fanning himself with his shirt.

“Damn, it’s hot in here.” He grumbles, subsequently snatching the back of his hoodie and slipping it off in one swift motion. It causes his shirt underneath to ride up on his body, and you nearly choke—a peek of his delicious abs leaves you squishing your thighs together, mesmerized.

Jungkook tosses away his hoodie, revealing himself in a muscle-tee, which does not bode well for you—you earn a clear view of his detailed tattoo sleeve. The dark ink with splashes of colour weaving down his muscular arm leaves drool pooling in your mouth, so distracted by raw lust you’re only reminded of the situation at hand when he speaks.

“So you said it’s your position, right?”

“Y-yeah. I don’t really lift a lot but I know it’s good for muscle, and I wanna add it to my program.” You steadily answer, despite your lady bits quivering in his presence.

“Makes sense.” He contended, his jaw sexily flexing as he thought. “Show me the position you get in for the lift.”

Erasing the raunchy ideas that come to you at his words, you compose yourself, and mimic the exact position, clasping your hands over the bar and squatting. Your cheeks burn once you consider your ass is accentuated as fuck right now, but you take a breath, eyes darting up at him in anticipation—Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Ah, I see what’s wrong.”

Bending down before you, Jungkook reaches out his hands around your body, but hovers, pausing. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Fighting back the heat rushing to your face, you nod. “You know I already gave you permission once, Jungkook.”

“Doesn’t mean I should assume it’s continuous, though.” He cleverly remarks, a small, kind curve to his lips. “I like asking.”

Touched by his consideration, you melt, irises shimmering with gratitude. “I trust you, Jungkook. You can touch me.”

His pretty pinks lips form a grin, settling a warm hand on your back as the other presses to your midriff. You’re thrilled for about 3 seconds before you realize what a mistake giving him permission to touch you was. You didn’t remember you’re only wearing a sports bra underneath your sweater, Jungkook’s veiny, sexy hands now touching your bare skin.

Your breath hitches, pussy trapped in a cage of torture once Jungkook gets to feeling your stomach, determining the root of your problem. You could care less about the work out now—his hands all over your body are lighting your blood on fire.

“You’re putting all your power in your arms and shoulders when lifting comes from the legs and core, Y/N.” He calmly advises, shaking in your boots once his cologne wafts in your direction—you’re sincerely a goner.

He nestles his palm right at the center of your torso, his large hand hot against you. “You need to pull from here, focus your power in the center and in your legs.”

You shudder when Jungkook suddenly skims his fingers over your thighs to check your muscle, causing you to stupidly swallow. Heeding his request, you perform the lift ss he instructed. Jungkook monitors your movement with his hands still snug around you, making this incredibly fucking difficult.

“Okay, that’s better. But you're still stiff with your posture, Y/N. Arch your back a little more for me.”

Jungkook’s voice is so bewitchingly seductive, you nearly let out a sigh. How could he sound so incredibly hot and yet extremely sweet while saying such a thing? You’re left winded when he presses his palm into your back, perfecting your posture. The other rests right underneath your left breast, praying to God this sports bra hides how rock-solid your nipples are.

“There; try now.”

Clearing your throat (and fucking mind), you attempt the lift again. You groan a little when the exercise pierces your torso and quad muscles, letting the bar fall back down. Judging by Jungkook’s happy grin, you performed it correctly.

“Hey, you just did it.”

“With your help. Oh my god, thank you!”

“No need to thank me, just remember to maintain that position so you don’t hurt yourself anymore.” Jungkook advises, rounding the bar to get behind you. Unexpectedly, his hands curl around your sides, ensnaring your waist in his firm digits. “Let me make sure you keep the same position.”

Swallowing, you nearly lose all brain circuitry when Jungkook’s face settles above your shoulder, seemingly watching over your position. His heat feels captivating, so utterly magical you nearly enter a trance-like state. Your ass is mere inches from his crotch behind you, underwear dampening by the second.

You stupidly lean back into him, but Jungkook’s hard hands stop you.

“The position, Y/N.”

His husky voice by your ear submits you. You sedate the arousal brewing inside you and perform the lift again. You focus on that singular task for the rest of the set Jungkook instructs you to complete, drowning in all his sweet sexiness. You power through his makeshift program flawlessly—celebration overcomes your body.

“Oh my God!”

“Shit, Y/N, you’re such a fast learner.”

“Guilty.” You send him a kittenish grin, turning in his direction, but immediately regretting it. He’s close, too close. Close enough that his breath fans your own tempted lips, gazing into his doe eyes. He watches you carefully, like something carnal looms within the depths of his look. You habitually nibble your lip out of nerves, and Jungkook’s hands on your waist momentarily clench, causing you to squeak.

It’s a wake-up call, both of you blinking multiple times—Jungkook’s hands withdraw. “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.” You stumble, feeling dazed. Jungkook regains his full height as you turn away from him, face hotter than the sun. You feel lucky when your Apple watch buzzes with a text, opening the message. Your co-worker’s sent a reminder to your group chat about her dinner later tonight.

Focused on the message, you’re nearly startled when you receive a call, shocked to see Hobi’s name and photo. Curious, you snag your phone from your bicep strap and accept the call, pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello? Hobi?”

“Y/N? Shit, okay, I just escaped my Psych class to call and tell you; don’t look at Jack’s insta story. I know he only posted it for you to see and he’s gonna be checking whether you saw it or not.”

Appalled, annoyance floods you. “Are you serious? He posted something in retaliation?”

“I think so,” Hobi confirms. “Reed mentioned something to me the other day about calling Jack a pussy for not confronting you about his issues and posting shit behind a screen.”

“Damn, and Reed’s the captain of the volleyball team.” You’re coloured impressed by the jocks’ surprising emotional intellect.

“Yeah. But I saw the story and I swear, don’t look at it, Y/N.” Hobi warns you. “I know you’re seeing his sister for her dinner tonight, and I have a feeling he’s gonna show. Knowing him, he posted the story for his own sake and will probably show up at the dinner to spite you because of what Reed said.”

Now you’re utterly disgusted, exhausted with the amount of pettiness this man owns. “Ew, what the fuck? He’s so annoying.” You whine, grinding your teeth. “Can you send me a screenshot of the story or something? I still wanna see it without it saying I saw it.”

“I didn’t look at the story, either, only through Jasmine’s phone because she showed me. I don’t want him thinking you know about it through me.” Hobi explains. “Is there someone else’s phone you can look at it through?”

Remembering where you are, you swivel towards Jungkook, finding him with a confused, yet, concerned expression on his face. Your gears immediately start turning, rambling into your phone. “Thank you for telling me, Hobi. I’ll think of something, but get back to class. I love you.”

“No problem, I love you too.”

Ending the call, you don’t waste a single moment. “Jungkook, is it okay if I borrow your phone?”

His bottom lip adorably protrudes in question. “Sure, but what happened?”

“I’ll tell you in a second, but I need your Instagram.”

Complying, Jungkook fishes his phone out of his shorts’ pocket and unlocks it, accessing Instagram. You receive his phone and rapidly get to searching for Jack’s account, typing silently. Jungkook seats himself next to you, almost swooning when his delicious, masculine scent penetrates your nostrils.

“What’s happening, Y/N, is everything okay?” He queries, resting a hand against your back—you’re close to fainting.

“No, it isn’t.” You grit, half distracted by Jungkook’s hand, half irritation overwhelming you. Once you’ve typed Jack’s handle, you click on his story—air leaves your system.

He’s uploaded a photo of himself with a girl, no tag. She’s tucked into his neck and laughing as they lay together somewhere—intimately. Only Jack’s lips and neck are captured, the girl’s cheek and hair. A wave of disappointment floods you, knowing he wouldn’t have posted something like this at all—he was always such a private person.

This could only mean he’s showing off, and he would only do such a thing to target you—his caption said it all.

‘Halloween vibes, watching Nightmare Before Christmas’

You scoff under your breath; Halloween is your favourite holiday, and he knows The Nightmare Before Christmas is your favourite halloween movie. Enough time passes in angry silence that Jungkook becomes concerned, lightly rubbing your back.

“Is this the asshole ex, Y/N?”

Disconcerted, you simply nod. Jungkook kisses his teeth. “What the fuck, is this really meant to be something against you?”

“Yeah,” you mull. “He knows Halloween’s my favourite holiday and the Nightmare Before Christmas is my favourite movie.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disappointment. “What a dick, that’s just evil.”

You sigh in agreement, too much stress weighing you down. “And you know what Hobi told me? He’s my co-worker’s brother and we’re all having dinner tonight, so he’s got a suspicion he’s gonna show up to the dinner too.”

“Shit, does he usually come?”

“Yeah, I mean, we’re all close in age and kind of bring anyone. I’m bringing Hobi tonight, but I didn’t think I’d have to be extra careful with Jack possibly being there now.” You sulk, head dipping as you hand Jungkook his phone back. He sighs in sympathy, slowly stroking your back before playfully ruffling your hair.

“Hey, don’t be so upset. You just gotta show him up, right? Act like you didn’t even see the story.” He suggests, and you chew on the words. You acknowledge it’s great advice, but you desire something more.

“I don’t know, Jungkook. I don’t wanna just show him up, I wanna go tonight and do something that’s a big fuck you, you know?”

Jungkook supportively nods. “Yeah, I totally get that. But do you have anything in mind? What are you thinking of doing as a fuck you?”

You sort through the turmoil in your head as your mental gears shift, searching, searching and searching, until an idea finally manifests in your head. “Holy shit, I think I have an idea.”

“What?” Jungkook eagerly asks, literally on the edge of his seat.

“When are you done work?”

“In like half an hour, why?”

You promiscuously bounce your brows. “You’re coming somewhere with me.”

Jungkook pouts in confusion, pointing at his chest. “You need me?”

“Yes, very much so. Are you in or not?”

Jungkook stutters, winded by your spontaneous behaviour. “I mean, yes? What are we going to do?”

“That’s for you to figure out in half an hour.” You declare, rising from your seat and peering down at him. “You’re gonna meet me behind the gym outside.”

Absolutely puzzled, Jungkook hesitates to reply, but hops on board once he catches a glimpse of the seriousness in your eyes, agreeing. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

Paddling around to keep yourself warm, you wait for Jungkook behind the gym as planned. It’s not long before you hear heavy-booted footsteps, watching Jungkook enter your vision with a jog. He spots you and immediately beelines, mentally admiring the Supreme bomber jacket he’s wearing.

“Y/N, what’s so serious we needed to meet here? There’s nobody around.” He gestures, only to be met by your scheming grin.

“That’s the point.”

Jungkook approaches you with furrowed brows, hands snug in his pockets. “What are you planning on doing, Y/N? Are you thinking of taking another photo?”

“Not a photo, Jungkook. I told you something more” You swallow, hoping to God this plan will unfold in your favour.

“If not a photo, then what?”

Inhaling steadily, you similarly exhale, armouring yourself to say this with a straight face. “I want you to leave hickies on my neck.”

Jungkook pauses for several moments before he blinks, bewilderment etched into his features. “What?”

“You heard me; the only thing that’s a big enough fuck you but is still subtle, is Jack seeing hickies on my neck tonight. Even better if the girls all end up asking me about it in front of him.”

Jungkook absorbs you words, and you expect repulsion, expect some form of disgust or rejection that leaves you standing here like an idiot. But, the gorgeous man instead breathes a sexy laugh. He rests his forearm against the wall near you, perches against it, and carefully leans to level your eyesight.

His irises reveal a dark, amused shade, gripping your very soul, and his lips tug into a smug grin. “So let me get this straight; you want me to suck hickies onto your neck right here, right now?”

Baffled by the change in his aura, you swallow. “Yes.”

He smirks. “You’re really giving me permission to kiss your neck?”

“Yes, I am. I trust you.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“Because I just do, duh?” You nonchalantly answer, crossing your arms and pouting up at him. “Are you going to do it or not?”

Jungkook laughs; the sound is absolutely gorgeous with a hint of arousing. “Is this a take it or leave it deal?”

“Yes, if you don’t kiss my neck in the next 15 seconds, then I’m leaving.”

“Then how will you make Jack jealous tonight?”

Beat, your mouth shuts before you cleverly rebuttal, brewing with indignation. “I’ll just go and ask Namjoon, then. I’m sure he wouldn’t have a problem with doing it.”

“And how can you be sure?” Jungkook challenges you, closing in on your space—you fight the urge to jump him, he so deliciously towers over you. “He’s doing an assignment right now, I don’t think he has time to spare to kiss you.”

“Ugh.” You whine, stamping your foot. “Are you gonna do it or not, Jungkook? You only have to leave one, and it’ll only take a minute, why are you saying no?”

The tempting man chuckles, but his slow, dark sigh leaves your panties dampening. How could he sound so sexy even when laughing? “Y/N, you don’t get it. I’m not saying no because I don’t want to do it.”

“Then why?!”

“Because if I’m going to kiss your neck, I’m gonna leave twenty hickies, not just one, and I’m gonna do it for a hell of a lot longer than a minute.”

Speechless, you can hear how loud your heart hammers against your ribcage. Did Jungkook really just say that to you? You must be dreaming. “What?”

“I said,” he steps closer to you, now invading your personal bubble, only a few inches between you two. He leans down further, ensnaring you with his relentless eyes. “If I’m giving you hickies, I’m covering your neck in them, and I’m not stopping until you can’t take it anymore.”

Rattled to your core, you stare at him with wide, doe eyes. You’ve never seen such an alluring side of Jungkook before, and you can practically hear your pussy screaming for him. Deciding against your better judgement, you decrease all space possible, square your shoulders, and look him dead in the eye.

“Try me.”

Jungkook tongues his cheek to abate a smile, but gives in, far too entertained by you. He props off the wall and cradles your face—your breath is knocked out of you. His hands feel rough but warm, strong. They’re much bigger compared to your face, and you quiver in your boots when he coasts his thumb across your cheek.

Jungkook wets his lips, flashing you a lascivious grin before he moves forward, bringing his lips just before yours. He breathes against you, teasing you with the idea of a kiss, before turning to the side and finding your neck.

Goosebumps freckle your skin as the heat of his breath hits your pulse point, and within a hot second, you’re a goner. Jungkook’s lips press against your throat, and the connection is so incredibly electric, your body tenses, currents crackling throughout your veins.

You’re swept off your feet, winded by the power of his pillowy lips, indulging in the slow, sensual way his mouth loves. He merely kisses at first, teasing you, but opens up to devour you, lightly suckling on your skin for the hickies you requested.

You sigh when he deepens the kisses, snaking his hand into your hair and grasping your head, tugging it aside to consume you. You shudder with pleasure, letting out a delicate moan that seems to drive Jungkook insane.

He pushes you up against the brick wall, looming over you with his incredible body. He completely swaths you, entirely controlling your pleasure as his lips draw sinfully arousing kisses on your neck, hungry and lustful.

He didn’t lie earlier, his teeth lightly nip your skin before his tongue smooths the ache, and moves onto another part of your neck, ravaging it. You wriggle underneath him, exhilarated by his body pinning yours into the wall, his hips pressing into yours—you don’t want him to stop.

“Jungkook…” You moan—he huskily groans in response.

He grips you harder, kissing deeper. “That sound,” he grits. “That fucking sound.”

The harshness of his tone overwhelms you, like he’s angry with himself for being so turned on—his desperate grip gave him away. You clutch Jungkook’s jacket tightly, fidgeting like a pathetic slut as you pleasurably whimper underneath him. Your hips desire more, rutting against him to feel the imprint of his cock, and god, does it shoot arousal through your core.

He draws back, but only for a second. He scans every feature upon your face, huffing and puffing. You pant, too, wildly turned on.

You exchange no words, simply gazing at each other. His eyes tell you enough, though; he wants your permission whether to continue or not. You answer him by nibbling your bottom lip, tilting your head and revealing your neck, sliding your hands into his lucious hair.

Jungkook beautifully smirks before diving in again, a hand of his curling around your waist and the other buries into your hair to tightly hold you, kissing maddeningly.

You’re lost in the pleasure, moaning erotically as he rolls his body against yours, your veins burning brightly. Your head spins, your sex aches, and your blood sings with unfathomable euphoria.

So dazed by him, your nails scratch down his neck, moaning like a pornstar. Jungkook rips himself away from your neck with a growl, fiercely aiming for your lips but stopping just short of a kiss.

He seems uncaged, breathing hard against your lips. You shudder pathetically for him, switching between his alluring eyes and swollen lips. He leans in to connect your mouths, carnal eyes set on your tempting mouth, but a voice suddenly interrupts you both.

“Yo, Jungkook, why’d you want me to meet you—woah.“

Namjoon pauses once his eyes catch your faces mere centimeters from each other. Jungkook pulls away within seconds as you lightly gasp, hand covering your mouth in shock.

“Shit, Namjoon, hey.” Jungkook nonchalantly greets him, slowly releasing you.

“Hey, man.” Namjoon replies, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What’s up? Why did you guys need me?”

How are they both being so casually about this? You were just caught almost kissing Jungkook, and you’re seconds from digging yourself to the center of the fucking Earth.

Utterly embarrassed, you muster the courage to greet him. “Hey, Joon.” You coo, cheeks warm not only from Jungkook’s sensual attacks, but mortification. “Sorry about—“

“No worries,” he waves off, tensing his jaw as he peers elsewhere, refocusing again. “But what happened? Jungkook told me your ex was an ass again.”

Winded by his rerouting, you smile at Jungkook nonetheless. You’re grateful he saved you from having to detail everything to Namjoon—this was already mentally draining.

“Yeah, he retaliated with some bullshit and I needed help.”

“What’d he do?”

“Posted some shady shit that was clearly an attack on Y/N; he was with another girl.” Jungkook details, peeking back at you. He reaches out to brush some wisps of your hair behind your ear, which seemed like a mindless habit to him, but your cheeks nearly melt off. You feel fuzzies invade your chest, the action incredibly affectionate. “Apparently she’ll be seeing Jack tonight at a co-workers’ dinner.”

“Ew,” Namjoon cringes. “you’ll have to see him tonight?”

“I’m not 100% sure, but considering his story last night, he’s ready to rub it in my face especially when my co-worker always brings him; he’s her brother.” You complain, sighing.

“Damn, do you know what you’re gonna do?” Namjoon approaches you two, his eyes revealing concern. “Are you going?”

“Of course, I can’t abandon my friend because of that dickhead.” You bitterly regard him, grumpily folding your arms before motioning towards what you assumed were now hickies blossoming on your neck. “I asked Jungkook to give me hickies so it could make Jack jealous.”

Namjoon’s expression reflects one of realization, his mouth agape with a knowing ‘o’. It isn’t long before a promiscuous grin frames his lips, however. “Ah, I’m sure Jungkook enjoyed that.”

Heart racing, you watch as Jungkook suddenly exhales, detecting a hint of nervousness, but he grins anyway. “More than I should’ve.”

You swallow dryly, detecting another layer to their conversation. They exchange glances that certainly hold coded language, and Namjoon’s shit-eating grin gives it all away.

Consumed by your storming mind, you interject. “Listen, guys. Maybe the hickies will work, but this story thing is getting annoying—it’s public now. I didn’t think he’d turn it into some sort of war, and now I’m itching to deploy my troops to show everyone I’m not taking this sitting down.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon contemplates, his index finger resting over his full, tempting lips. His jaw thoughtfully flexes, and he’s leaving another mess in your panties—he looks so incredibly sexy when he thinks. “I think we need a revenge snap, which you could’ve taken today. May I ask why you settled on hickies?”

Thrown off by the question, you defend yourself. “Rome wasn’t built in a day; I wanna have enough strategic attacks that make his blood boil the way I want it to.”

“Fair point,” he contends. “It probably would’ve been annoying seeing him tonight, too.”

You brightly smile. “Exactly.”

“Why don’t we have Y/N post something on her story a bit like his?” Jungkook suggests, toying with the thin silver chain hanging around his neck—it’s so easy to drool over him. “She could come over to our dorm and post something; it’d be so telling if she did that.”

Both you and Namjoon shoot Jungkook an impressed look.

“Nice idea, JK.” Namjoon commends.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You assure him. “Him and I actually used to do study dates all the time. If I come over to study and post something, he’ll get super pissed. People will also let their imagination run wild about us, especially Jack.”

“Exactly, you’re not responsible for what he assumes, either. Knowing him and his boy energy, he’ll assume the worst, but other people will just think he’s insane or obsessed with you.” Namjoon cleverly pieces that together, leaving a fat smile on your face.

“That is fucking genius, guys. We should definitely do this.”

“Of course, though, let’s give it some time so he doesn’t think you’re retaliating because you’re hurt. It’ll seem more natural if you post later.” Jungkook suggests.

“Yes, why don’t we plan something next week?”

“I’m down.” Namjoon agrees, leaning against the building.

“Me too,” Jungkook adds, affectionately cradling your shoulder. “Now get home and get ready for tonight, Y/N. And only cover some of your hickies, not all of them.” He winks, deviously tonguing the inside of his cheek.

“Jesus, Jungkook.” Namjoon quietly exclaims as he examines your neck. “Did you really have to kiss her that much? Looks like her neck took a beating.”

“A beating of my great kisses, sure.”

You roll your eyes as the boys bicker, running your fingers over the tender skin Jungkook nipped. “Thank you, guys. I’ll head home and let you know what happens at the dinner.”

“Do you want us to come? Could look like a power move.” Namjoon asks.

“Nah, I’d rather face him myself. Besides, Hobi’s coming, so I know I’ll have fun.”

“Nice, say hi to Hobi for us, then?” Jungkook beautifully smiles.

“Indeed, my knights in shining armour. I must part now.” You eloquently bid them a farewell with a curtsy, Namjoon and Jungkook respectfully bowing in response.

“Until next time, my lady.” Namjoon plays along.

“Send a pigeon upon your safe arrival home, ma’am.” Jungkook comedically adds on, and you ceaselessly giggle as you wave them a temporary goodbye.

You inhale a deep breath knocking on Namjoon and Jungkook’s dorm room, unattractively biting the inside of your cheek. You tightly cling to your laptop bag, uselessly observing the small cracks in the paint of their front door.

“Coming!” You hear Namjoon shout from inside, along with a TV coming to a pause and someone rising from a couch. Your eyes brighten when the door swings open and Namjoon emerges, his dimply smile gutting you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Joon, sorry if I’m interrupting.” You apologize.

“Never, come inside, cutie.” He coos, his eyes revealing an elusive sense of desire. They light a fire inside you, clearing your throat once you stand in the middle of their dorm, observing it. Their two beds were on either side of the room—most likely Jungkook’s littered with comic books, magazines, games and DVDs. You spot a corkboard of polaroids and photos above his small desk, a camera perched by the very corner. Did he perhaps do photography as a hobby?

On the other side, you find Namjoon’s neat, tidy bed. All you noticed were the rows of books decorating his shelves, various titles, bindings and authors gracing your eyesight. He also seemed to keep small house plants, hung an intricate painting on his wall, and you spotted several scattered brochures for museums on his desk.

You’re shocked, their respective sides screaming their personalities to you—it’s a warm observation. The common area of the room housed a TV, PS5, and gym equipment lying around.

You also hated to admit that the room smelled powerfully of cologne and hormone-inducing musk, leaving your head swooning. It’s only Namjoon’s hand gripping your shoulder that sucks you back into the real world.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” He queries, eyeing you carefully. “You’re so quiet.”

“Sorry,” you clumsily reply. “I was just looking at how different your sides of the room are.”

“Ah,” he beautifully grins. “Yeah, we’re quite different in our personal interests, but we actually like that about each other the most. Jungkook always introduces me to creative things and I always introduce him to new forms of art and stuff.”

“That’s sweet.” You purr, curving your lips.

“Thanks.” His dragon eyes crease to reveal a genuine smile. “By the way, has Jack done anything else since your dinner the last time? Did he see Jungkook’s hickeys?”

“Fuck yeah he did, and he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.” You proudly recall. “He hasn’t countered yet. I’m a bit surprised considering he was so assholey at the dinner, but he’s a calculative mofo.”.

“Well, we’ll be there for you if he does anything.” Namjoon sends you a supportive grin. “So, study date, right? What could a PT major and a Child Youth Care major like yourself possibly study together?”

His sarcastic tone invites you to laugh, giggling. “Are you confirming we’re on a date right now?”

“Perhaps,” he bounces his brows. “Do you mean to suggest we can never go on a date?”

“No,” you shyly respond. “But without the studying, this isn’t exactly a study date, now is it?”

Namjoon chuckles at your words. “Nope, but this is a ‘make Y/N’s crappy ex jealous by pretending to study together’ date, actually. So, still a study date.”

Impressed by his quippy mouth, you let him win, charmed by his triumphant grin. He advises you to take a seat on his bed and set up your belongings to begin studying. Namjoon, however, launches his laptop and lays out his textbook on his coffee table, eventually reclining on the sofa far away from you—you furrow your brows in question.

“Why don’t you study at your desk?”

“It’s too small.” He replies, eyes busy on his laptop screen. “As you can see, I’m a little oversized for it.”

Timidly, you snag the opportunity to truly appreciate Namjoon’s size. He’s silently logging onto his school account, but you’re distracted by his thick shoulders, broad thighs and powerful torso. He indeed has to be fittest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, complemented by his fierce eyes and sweet smile.

“Did you accidentally buy it too small?”

“No, it’s my desk from home, but my mom forgot to consider that I'd grow bigger naturally and by working out.” He replies, his low, smooth voice serenading your ears. “She made it herself, so I never think about replacing it.”

“Awh,” you pout. “That’s really sweet of her, and you.”

“Guilty.” He grins.

Prompted to chuckle, you do, causing Namjoon to lift his eyes and connect with yours, smiling sweetly. To say his gaze is magnetic is an understatement, Namjoon’s gaze is simply… mesmerizing. You find yourself unintentionally comparing it to Jungkook’s.

Jungkook’s gaze was always playful and smug, a layer of mischief hidden in its depth. But Namjoon’s, on the other hand, radiated a sense of playfulness, almost unbridled adoration that made you feel like the only girl in the world. One gaze was not better than the other, but their contrast sincerely excited you.

What a gorgeous, enthralling pair of friends.

“Hmm, why’d you make me sit on your bed?” You question out of curiosity.

Namjoon lightly chuckles, breaking out into a side-grin. “Why, getting nervous knowing that you’re sitting on the same bed that I sleep in? Among other things?”

Nearly choking, your skin burns up. He’s caught you so off guard you struggle to respond. “Wrong, idiot. I was just wondering why you’re sitting so far away from me.”

“Would you prefer if I sat closer?”

“Would you prefer if you sat closer?”

Impressed, Namjoon’s eyebrow raises, slowly wetting his lips. It seems he lets his intrusive thoughts win, grabbing his textbook and laptop and stalking towards you. You shuffle over to provide him space when he plops down next to you.

“There, that’s better?” He queries.

“Yes, now you’re close enough that I can bother you. It’s my super power.” You saccharinely smile.

Namjoon breathes a laugh before refocusing on his class’ syllabus, locating his reading for the week. He flips to the required chapter and immediately gets to work, diligently taking notes by your side. You’re astonished by his productivity; Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said Namjoon’s the smartest person he knows.

It occurs to you then he did in fact finish that paper due by midnight, and received a steller 85% on it. You commend his intelligence, before it quickly turns into such a sexy part of him. Not only did he have a strong body, but a brilliant mind that called out to your ladybits.

You’re wholly captivated by him.

“So Joon,” you clear your throat, lazily typing on your laptop. “You’re a year older than Jungkook and I, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Namjoon confirms. “But sometimes I get the feeling that I’m a lot older. I tend to think and operate more maturely than other people around our age.”

His dragon eyes slide in your direction then, and he grabs your full attention. It’s now you realize how close Namjoon is sitting, shoulder to shoulder with you, and you’re hyper aware of how much larger he is. “I can see that, you’re really intelligent and clever, too.”

“Thanks. I’m not a fan of the college mentality a lot of guys have. Jungkook is one of the few that I like; he knows how to have fun without compromising basic human decency and treating people like trash.” Namjoon explains, slightly turning his body to speak to you. “If I’m being honest, that’s one of the reasons why your ex kinda pisses me off. He’s the perfect example of guys with that mentality—no offense.”

You snort loudly, easing him. “Please, none taken. You’re right, it’s sad how loads of college boys only care about pride and their masculinity, no matter how fragile.”

“Exactly, I’m secure as hell when it comes to that crap and I just can’t stand toxic masculinity.” Namjoon regards the topic with a grimace. “Seen too many of my ex-friends fall into that trap.”

You’re impressed by Namjoon’s views, fully interested in his mind now. “Wow, you’re one of the very rare men I’ve met that are even aware of that.”

“Thanks.” He flashes you a dimply smile, stealing your heart from you.

“You know, you should’ve been Jack’s friend.” You complain, a frown framing your lips. “Jack used to be a great guy until his friends just horribly influenced him, all because of the reason we even broke up.”

“Hey,” Namjoon reaches out his hand to rest against your knee, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “What’s done has been done, and if Jack were a real man, he wouldn’t have let his friends influence him so much.”

Sighing, you share his viewpoint. “You’re right, I just wish things ended differently.”

“If I can ask,” Namjoon begins, treading lightly with a careful voice. “What happened between you guys? Did something turn him bitter?”

You suppress the urge to snort again, scoffing instead. “Literally Namjoon, nothing huge happened. Nobody cheated or lied or was a shitty replier. We just had little issues that in the end made me realize we’re not as compatible as I thought. What made him bitter, though…” You trail, guiltily pulling your lips back.

“What is it?”

You sigh, pursing your lips. “In my honest opinion, I thought the sex was mediocre. I told him because I’d rather be honest than let him believe he’s amazing at it. Next thing I knew he turned into this raging bull and started dipping his toes into the fuckboy community. He apparently never admits it, but I know from others that he really does it just to spite me.”

“Wow,” Namjoon fights off an amused grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re laughing at me.” You whine, playfully smacking his shoulder.

“Ah!” Namjoon exclaims, cradling his shoulder before he begins snickering. “I’m sorry, I swear I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at him.”

“Why?”

“Because that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Namjoon scowls, eyebrows drawn together with slight annoyance. “You told him he’s not that great at sex and now he’s going around spiting you with other girls? The immaturity is astronomical.”

“Right?!” You spring up from your seat, seated on your knees diagonal of Namjoon. “It’s not like I went around spreading the information that he’s bad at sex. I told him privately and he took it to heart, and now he’s walking around with a bruised ego.”

“That’s horrible.” Namjoon winces, but his features soon smooth over with concern. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with him, Y/N. You really don’t deserve it.”

Your tentative eyes fall to his lap, settling your hand over his thigh in appreciation. “Thanks, Joon.”

He seems to notice your disheartedness, reaching out to rub your back. “Hey, I hope you know not at all men are like that, I promise. A real one doesn’t take news like that in such a childish way.”

“How does a real man take news like that, then?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Namjoon tilts his head side to side. “Depends on the man, but if it were me, I would’ve asked why you thought it was mediocre and worked with you to make the sex better. Others probably would’ve given you a simple ‘okay’ and moved on. A real man wouldn’t let it shatter his entire character, unlike some people, clearly.”

“Oh.” You absorb his words, reflecting on Jack’s character then. Perhaps you really were giving him too much credit before—your breakup seemed to have amplified traits he already possessed.

“Thankfully for me, I don’t have that problem.”

You blink, eyes flickering to Namjoon. “What?”

He holds your gaze with a smile, seeming to admire your skittishness. “With sex. I don’t have that problem with sex.”

Swallowing dryly, your cheeks warm up, skin freckling with need. “R-really?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon replies, before his irises darken with desire. “I’m not mediocre at sex.”

Winded, you simply stare at him, a joke simmering on your tongue. “Damn, and here I was thinking you’re a virgin.”

Namjoon scoffs, laced with a chesty laugh. “I’m far from a virgin, cutie.”

That information along with his dazzling smirk single-handedly penetrates your defense mechanisms, panties slightly dampening. You squish your thighs together once you register where you are with Namjoon; in his dorm… alone… talking about sex.

“So really, you’re not bad at sex?”

“Not at all.” He confidently answers.

You narrow your eyes, closing in on him. “How can I take your word for it?”

“You have to; I can’t exactly prove it, now can I?”

The sinful smirk that pulls at Namjoon’s lips leaves your breath slightly elevating, your body responding to his masculine, alpha-male energy. Your nipples harden, your sex aches and your horomones skyrocket at the constant whiff of him everywhere.

Entertained, you decide to challenge him, leaning in closer—you can’t help but notice the way Namjoon sneaks a glance at your lips. “I don’t know, Namjoon, can you?”

Wetting his lips, a curve decorates Namjoon’s full lips, clearly appreciating your wit. He watches you carefully, calculatively, studying your proximal face and alluring lips. “Why did you ever get with an asshole like that?”

Surprised, you furrow brows. “What?”

“Why did you ever date Jack?” Namjoon asks, searching your eyes deeply. “You deserve so much better.”

Breath hitching, you’re lost to him now, finding your eyes excavating his mouth. Your yearning for him aches you terribly, vibrating with this sense of arousal that overwhelms your every limb.

Inclining closer, your brain rejects sensibility, instead listening to your core desiring this man—you grip his thigh tighter. “Is Jungkook coming back anytime soon?”

Namjoon’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, slowly casting his laptop away. “No, he’s got boxing.”

Biting your lip, you can’t resist him anymore, riveted by the desire to run your hands all over his strong body, feel it powerfully move and cling onto you. You toss away all care, swinging your leg over Namjoon’s perfectly inviting lap.

Once you settle over him, you let out a quiet sigh, surprised by your gall. Namjoon observes with shock as well, but it melts away, his hands hovering by your sides. Yours slide over his shoulders, admiring the heat of his golden skin before weaving your fingers into his hair.

Namjoon shamelessly switches between your eyes and lips, both calling to him. He attempts to hide his smirk, but it’s contagious, and you grin smugly too before losing all composure.

In a split-second, you lunge forward, crashing your lips onto his. An entirely new sensation explodes in your mouth, captivated by how soft Namjoon’s lips are. They’re deliciously plump and pillowy, luring you in. Namjoon softly groans upon your attack, his body relaxing as his gigantic hands form to your figure.

He slides them up and down your back as he claims your mouth, reciprocating your kiss as though he’s starving, clutching you tightly for more. He licks your bottom lip to request access, and you delightfully open up, plunging your own tongue into his mouth.

When your wet muscles meet, you sigh, melting into him.

Licking each other becomes the sole endeavour of your make out, forgetting air is a thing until you need to break away. You fight for oxygen, skin sweltering hot as your eyes connect with Namjoon, who pants as well.

He reveals an intriguing shade of lust in his eyes, beckoning you. Your body feels exquisite pressed to his, lady bits tingling as your breasts perk up. He feels stronger than you thought, his body a steel machine but his hands so gentle when they hold you.

Your brain is going to short circuit.

Overridden by hormones, you dive back in for another heated kiss, eager to press your front into Namjoon’s, until the door of their dorm suddenly clicks open. You curse as the doorway reveals a sweaty, breathless Jungkook— your eyes fly open just like his do, panic overwhelming you.

“Shit… did I interrupt something?” Jungkook apprehensively asks.

You immediately scramble off Namjoon’s lap and stand to your feet, disregarding the sticky mess in your panties. “N-no, Jungkook, sorry.”

Namjoon appears unbothered as he retains his seat, only sliding up his knees to drape his arms over them—he clears his throat loudly. “Thought you were at boxing today.”

“I was but Ethan cancelled on me. I’d already trained enough before we had to spar, so I left.” Jungkook informs, shutting the door behind him and using his sweat towel to dry his neck—you feel a surge of new arousal pool in your sex.

An intelligent Namjoon with a mouth good for more than just talking, but a sweaty, breathless Jungkook now too? You might as well jump out their window—how could both these men be so intoxicatingly hot?

“That sucks, but good you got in your workout.” Namjoon comments, fixing himself to sit cross-legged. “Wanna join our study date? Y/N can post something with all of us together.”

“You guys haven’t taken the photo yet?” Jungkook’s lip adorably pout in question.

“Nah, not yet.” Namjoon waves off. “Go take a shower and we’ll study. You okay with that, Y/N?”

Eyes darting between the beefy friends, you know being in their vicinity after the intimacy you’ve shared with them should be difficult, but that’s only really a you-problem, not theirs, clearly. The magnitude of their nonchalance towards everything strikes you impressed, left standing like a stunned idiot—how are they so cool right now?

Your issue amplifies when the sexy men both peer at you, patiently waiting for your answer.

Squeaking, you laugh off your hornirness. “Of course, that’s okay. Are you guys alright with me staying long enough to get food, too? I’ll buy.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m more than okay with that.” Jungkook enthuses. “But who do you think you are? You’re our guest, Y/N, we’d never make you pay.”

“Yeah, we may be brutes but we’re gentlemen. We don’t make the lady pay.” Namjoon plays along.

Giggling, you accept their request, telling Jungkook to get his ass in the shower before you phone a pizza place. He takes off running, almost entirely undressing himself in front of you before you need to shield your eyes, scolding him through laughs.

It isn’t long before he joins you and Namjoon on the bed, all three of you squished together and studying. Your heart hammers the entire time you remain sandwiched between them; Namjoon your back support while Jungkook laid his head in your lap, reading a book for an assignment.

The amount that you laugh together can’t even be quantified, either of the boys telling you jokes that make you snort or your face hurt from smiling too wide.

“You can’t even lift the same amount that I do, Jungkook.” Namjoon berates. “You need to take the ‘hercules’ out of your snap username.”

“Please, you know snap usernames are a sacred thing because everyone made dumb ones when they were in middle school.” Jungkook retorts. “I’m never changing mine; it’s genius.”

“Actually, you’re no exception. Your username is as dumb as you.”

Jungkook grabs Namjoon’s pillow and immediately whacks him, unfortunately ensuing a chaotic pillow fight you laugh your ass off at. However, laughing is your biggest mistake—their playful eyes suddenly land on you, utterly scheming.

“What do you think you’re doing over there, Y/N?” Namjoon narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re not spared.” Jungkook declares before taking your hand and dragging you in the middle of them, suddenly engulfed by their gigantic bodies that rumble with laughter and smother you in either affection or tickle attacks.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, eventually snapping your story post with them that didn’t feel much like pretending anymore, but rather genuine friendship—even if you spent much of your time with a heated core and drenched underwear.

“Shit, where the hell did you learn that combo, Jungkook? I swear you were shit at using anyone that’s not a swordsman.”

“Shut up; I’m a fast learner and you know it.”

“He only learned it cause of me. His weak ass could never handle hand-to-hand combat characters.”

You listen to Jungkook and Namjoon bicker over your headset as you release an onslaught of attacks in Super Smash Ultimate, -laser-focused on the game.

Their incessant arguing lends you the perfect opportunity to obliterate their last lives, eventually crowning you the victor of the brawl—you cheer with elation. “Fuck yes! I told you nobody beats Ike!”

The boys whine as you rub your win in their faces, eventually hearing them sigh.

“Alright, we get it, Y/N.” Namjoon tames you. “JK and I gotta get going now, we have a shift at the gym.”

“Oh, nice, I was thinking of heading there soon.”

“Perfect. Meet you there later?” Jungkook asks, and you confirm right away, informing them you plan on running a few errands before heading there.

Once the call drops, you search your place for acceptable clothes, touching up your makeup too. Hobi wanted to meet you for coffee to relay the recent tea from the athletic center, and you were happy to listen.

Grabbing your purse, you head out, letting Namjoon and Jungkook know you’d be at the gym in about 2 hours.

koo: okay gamer, see you then <33

joon: see you then cutie ;)

“Bitch, listen, forget me; I just heard the dumbest shit ever.”

Perplexed, you stare at Hobi with furrowed brows as you slowly take your seat at the coffee table he saved. “Well, hello to you too.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. Like I’m actually baffled at what I just heard before coming here.” Hobi urges, concern dripping from his usually smiling eyes.

“Hobi, woah, what happened?”

He peers at you with sympathy, and you’re now acutely concerned with what the hell he heard. “Hobi, what’s going on? What did you hear?”

Sighing, Hobi’s eyes dart elsewhere, suddenly landing on the menu. “Why don’t you get a coffee first?”

“Hobi,” you scold him seriously, glaring at him for an answer.

He nervously smiles as he holds up the menu, using it to shield himself. “Blonde latte?”

“Hobi!” You scowl, gripping the menu from him and smacking it on the table. “What did you find out? You know I can’t stand when people keep secrets!

“Okay!” Hobi surrenders, making a face. Clearly, whatever he knew was something that would either piss you off or make you upset; only one thing could cause either.

“Hobi, what did Jack do?”

He shoots you an apprehensive look, now used to your keen ability to read people. “It’s shitty, Y/N.”

“Spill anyway.”.

Exhaling carefully, Hobi straightens his posture, avoiding your eyes as he clears his throat. “So… apparently, Jack’s going around telling everyone that you’re a slut.”

Your heart drops, an sharp ache manifesting in the form of a punch. How… how could he say that about you? Spread such false information to skew your reputation? He knows you’re not someone who entertains multiple men at once, which isn’t wrong if you’re single anyway, but the vulgar nature of the term was particularly distasteful.

It’s disrespectful on another level, grinding your teeth considering how nice you were with him. You never spoke ill of him in any way that wasn’t regarding his already horrible behaviour, and this is how he acts?

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

Brewing with indignation, you clench your fists. “What else is he saying?”

“Y/N—“

“Hobi, I don’t need to be babied.”

Exhaling despondently, Hobi answers with a pout. “He’s been mentioning you hanging out with Namjoon and Jungkook and using it to spread the rumour that you’re a slut.”

You’re not even sure what you feel anymore. Anger? Sadness? Frustration? Revenge didn’t sound good enough anymore, you needed the universe to run its course and shower horrible karma on this motherfucker. To think he could lack such respect for you was frustrating, to think he could tarnish your reputation like that was angering but, most of all, to think he would stoop that low.

Whatever did you do to deserve this?

Not even realizing tears have pooled in your eyes, you’re startled when Hobi’s melt with sympathy. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I never should’ve said anything.”

Now sensing the moisture, you sniffle and wipe at your lashes, fidgeting with your sleeves. “It’s okay, Hobi, I’d rather you tell me than leave me finding out myself.”

Hobi doesn’t buy it, reaching out and grasping your hands. “Listen, he’s an ass, Y/N. People who know you know you’re not like that, and the right people will see through his bullshit.”

Appreciating Hobi’s effort, you send him a smile. “Thank you, Hobi. But I just need to clear my head.” You manage to say, fighting the urge to break down. “I’m sorry to cut our date short.”

“No worries, Y/N. Just call me if you need anything, alright? And stay safe.”

Nodding, you wave a small goodbye to Hobi as you vacate your seat and soon the little coffee shop, practically stomping away once you realize how unfair this all is.

It’s not fair that you have to feel this way, not fair that you’ve chosen to be the bigger person, and yet he gets to be the one laughing and smiling while tears stream down your face like a fool.

With a storming heart, you push aside all sadness and let anger become your driving force, leading you towards the campus gym.

“Hey, Y/N, you came!”

“What’s up, cutie?”

“Hey guys.” You grumble as you push past both Namjoon and Jungkook, disregarding their smiley greetings. You feel guilty for ignoring them, but you felt embarassed by your red eyes, having succumbed to your emotions on the walk here.

They stand confused, attempting to call out to you, but they’re interrupted by other inquiring gym members and frontdesk phone calls. You thank God for the distractions, using it to slip by and engage in the exercise you desperately need… now.

Working out appeared to be the only way to exorcize your demons. Pouring your emotions into lifting and running, leg day and core strength—all of it temporarily rid your mind of the bullshit Jack’s spreading; what people are thinking of you, how they’re judging you, drawing baseless misconceptions that paint a false image of you…

You worked out even harder.

In fact, you worked out so vehemently throughout the evening you didn’t even realize the gym was closing. Everything around you had blurred, so laser-focused you actually jumped feeling a tap to your shoulder, prompting you to remove your AirPods.

You find two pairs of gorgeous, incredibly concerned brown eyes staring at you.

“Earth to Y/N?” Jungkook incredulously waves his hand.

“Y/N, are you okay? Did something happen?” Namjoon queries.

You suck in a composing breath, leveling your emotions. “I’m fine, guys, just tired.”

“Tired?” Namjoon furrows his strong brows. “You just worked out like Wonder Woman your entire session and didn’t even realize we’re closed.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Jungkook asks worriedly, piercing you with a sympathetic look.

A part of you yearns to tell them, desperately pour your heart out until there’s nothing left weighing it down, but you fear you may be judged. You know Namjoon and Jungkook are sweet souls, but the thoughts of others whether loud or silent always plagued your mind, causing unnecessary anxiety.

“I promise, guys, it’s nothing.” You emphasize, turning around to claim your phone from the exercise machine—Jungkook’s the one that gently clasps your arm.

“Y/N, if you’re not comfortable sharing this with us, we get it, but you can let us know when something’s bothering you; don’t lie and tell us it’s nothing.”

Sighing, his words penetrate your defense mechanisms. What are you thinking? You can’t hide this; you feel like you’re holding back an entire dam of emotions right now, and the longer you suffer, the larger your cracks will grow.

Your feelings overwhelm you, solemnly staring at the ground before lazily seating yourself on the exercise machine—your eyes become vacant. “Jack’s been telling everyone that I’m a slut.”

You’re so focused on the patternless floor, you don’t witness the disgust the paints the boys’ faces.

“What the fuck?” Namjoon practically spits.

“He’s such a dick, that’s fucking crossing a line.” Jungkook grits.

“I know, guys, I know. Trust me, I’ve been angry the past few hours myself. But it’s useless, nothing comes out of it.” Hopelessness floods your expression, uselessly running your fingertips over your nails as your voice weakens. “Revenge wasn’t going to do anything. Being the bigger person didn’t, either. He’s just a horrible person, and nothing can help people like that.”

You hear a collective sigh from the pair, the magnitude of their disappointment tangible. Both of them settle either side of you as you wallow, Jungkook’s warm hand finding your back as Namjoon’s gigantic one softly casts some hair behind your ear.

“I’m impressed by your way of thinking, Y/N.” Namjoon compliments. “It takes a big person to not let anger cloud their judgement when they’ve been wronged.”

“Well, I don’t care.” Jungkook sharply interjects. “This guy isn’t gonna learn any lessons at all. I should box him in the fucking face.”

“Jungkook,” He actually invokes a small chuckle from you, but you rest a hand on his thigh, your teary eyes flickering towards him. “Thank you, but I don’t want you getting in trouble for me.”

“Jungkook’s right, you know.” Namjoon kisses his teeth. “I’d love to get that guy in a chokehold, but you’re right too, Y/N. He’ll get what’s coming, and anger is futile.”

You nod at Namjoon with a faint smile, sadness still tainting your heart—one thought has been circulating in your mind ever since Hobi uttered the news today. “Do you guys think I’m a slut?”

“What?”

“Y/N.” Namjoon seriously calls you, his eyes dripping with sincerity when his hands curl over yours. “You’re not a slut at all, and he has no right calling you something like that even if you did have many partners. It’s none of his business.”

“Joon’s right.” Jungkook piggybacks, rubbing your spine in de-stressing circles. “He’s projecting. He’s the same guy sleeping around just to spite you and probably not even respecting the women he sleeps with. He’s threatened by the idea of you having healthy relationships with men and moving on.”

A wide smile spreads across your lips as your eyes water, feeling grateful for their words. Your chest suddenly feels lighter, your mind storming less—you peer at the men either side of you with softness. “Thank you, guys. Seriously, it means the world.”

The jaw-droppingly gorgeous boys ask you to never mention it, and they both swing their beefy arms around you, cocooning you in a tight hug. You melt into their embrace, leaning your head against Jungkook’s shoulder as you grip Namjoon’s bicep.

Drawing away, your eyes can’t help but catch their magnetic gazes. Namjoon’s eyes are so incredibly reassuring, but hold a mystery behind them you’re itching to unearth. Jungkook’s eyes are adorable with concern, slightly expectant, but housing a deep, carnal desire he won’t utter aloud.

You feel sincerely fucked. They’re simply so compelling, so alluring with their individual beauty and alpha-male energy that calls to your lady bits. Their lips are all you can see; edible pieces of flesh you want to suckle and bite. The aura they possess has been clawing at you ever since you met them, reeling you into their enigmatic trap and unable to untangle yourself.

Suddenly you didn’t mind being held captive.

Your heart accelerates by multiple beats per minute, your blood singing with arousal. You squish your thighs together once you consider having them right here, right now; your core pulsing, drowning in their heady, masculine scents.

You swallow dryly, feeling your face collect with warmth, body aching to be satiated.

“Is… is the gym officially closed?” You hesitantly query, fidgeting with your sleeves as you flicker your eyes elsewhere.

Namjoon caresses your hair soothingly, nodding. “We’re officially closed, cutie”

“So… it’s just us?” Gulping, you’re not sure how to proceed. Your desire to kiss either of them or make a move is blaring in your horny head, but that has to be unacceptable, right? Kissing one of them when your insides scream at you to kiss both feels wrong, especially doing it in front of the other—nobody likes blatantly being a third wheel.

But your greed is uncontainable. The desire for both is raging through you, ensnared by their brawny frames, invigorating stares and intimate body language—you are so genuinely fucked.

Stuck, you fidget about, avoiding their eyes. You can feel them gazing, attempting to figure you out. Namjoon specifically flickers across your features, studying you.

He seems to read your apprehensiveness, suddenly rising from beside you. “It’s only us, but I’m gonna go make sure everything’s locked up, alright? I’ll be back.” He declares, ruffling your hair with a dimply smile. You lightly chuckle as he stalks away, eventually disappearing into the backroom.

“Hey.” Jungkook calls beside you, turning towards him. The second you find his eyes, you’re ensnared—the carnality you once detected in his eyes wasn’t hidden anymore, but now rampant, ready to play.

You gulp.

His hand curls around your cheek, compelling your undivided attention—his hot breath dances across your lips. “You okay, Y/N?”

No, you are not fine. How could you be fine when Jungkook’s holding you like this? This close? Your heart feels like it’ll jump across the room, pussy palpitating with need.

“I’m… better.” You whisper, so caught up in his intoxicating stare, you can’t function normally.

“Good.”

Delicately, Jungkook runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, and you swear the wild glance he steals at them is your undoing. You grind your teeth together, waging a civil war with yourself. You want to kiss him, but should you?

Your hormones become the driving force behind your decision, calling out a good fuck it to the universe.

Unapologetically, you inch forward, eyes glued to his tempting mouth. Jungkook visibly swallows, the gorgeous column of his throat bobbing as he cages your chin slightly tighter, lifting your head.

The air’s palpable now, so drunk on the idea of him, you’re tired of only letting him exist in your head.

You collide your lips with Jungkook’s, instantly hit with an enrapturing sensation. His mouth feels warm and soft, those little pink lips of his similar to candy.

Jungkook’s hand smoothly transitions from cradling your face to brushing into your hair, gently gripping its tresses as he manuevers sideways, opening up your kiss for more.

You shamelessly groan; he feels exquisite. Jungkook moves his mouth so masterfully, you’re completely swept up in his ocean, riding his pleasurable flow. His tongue gently licks the bottom of your mouth, his other hand sliding up your thigh to eventually encase your waist, devouring you.

He tastes more divine than you imagined, his hands skilled in the art of seduction. His sweetness is delicious, reaching inside his mouth to explore his tempting depths. Your tongue slides into his and Jungkook’s raw, throaty groan is absolutely Earth-shattering, soaking your panties.

He entangles his wet muscle with yours in a heartbeat, erotically swirling your tongues together as his deft hands settle by your hips, tugging you towards his open lap. You follow, languidly sliding over his lap and sighing when your clothed center presses into the bump of his erection, only shielded by loose shorts.

Straddling him, Jungkook presses your body up against his with his strong arms, deepening your kiss. You sigh when his fingers snake into your hair, not even bothering with air when he feels this good.

Your digits glide into his raven locks, lightly tugging on the tufts—big mistake; Jungkook’s hips suddenly thrust up into you, spelling your doom.

You break away with a gasp, pussy fluttering with animalistic desire—he’s huge.

Jungkook snags the opportunity to pepper kisses down your jaw, enveloping your pulse point in his hot mouth. His hungry, wet kisses transport you to paradise, lightly chuckling when a hot memory resurfaces.

“This feels familiar.”

He grins against your skin. “Good, I never wanted you to forget.”

You sigh erotically at his sexy chuckle, veins singing with ecstasy. Jungkook’s love bites cause essence to leak out of you like a faucet, unabashedly riding his crotch, nipples hardening as your hormones surge. He creates delicious friction between your bodies, his scent driving you insane.

In the midst of drowning in Jungkook’s abyss, you're startled by another presence suddenly enveloping you.

“You started without me?”

Shocked, you open your eyes to find a smirking Namjoon, who surprisingly, ogles the sight of you on top of Jungkook. You, however, scramble. “Oh my God, Joon, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry for what? Keep going, Y/N.”

You blink, mouth failing to form a coherent sentence. “I–wha—”

Namjoon’s eyes dance, luring you into the tempting depths of his thoughts. “I said keep going, cutie.”

Flabbergasted, you peer at Jungkook, who’s wearing a devilish grin that suffocates your heart. He gently casts your hair away from your cheek, his voice sweet and warm. “Are you comfortable like this?”

At a loss for words, you pause. Is this really happening? Is Namjoon letting you kiss Jungkook and perhaps… enjoying it? Is Jungkook letting you be watched? Suddenly, your sex gushes, your previously slow mind now picking up on what’s really going on here.

They’re an interesting pair of friends.

“No wonder you both didn’t care when you caught me kissing the other.” You narrow your eyes at them, playfully scrutinizing. “Not your first rodeo?”

“Not exactly? You’re the only one we actually became friends with, though. You’re special.” Namjoon sends you a million-dollar smile.

“Yeah, we like you,” Jungkook magically grins, cutely nudging your chin. “You’re our girl, if you want to be.”

Cheeks warming up, your heart flutters at their ooey-gooey words. “Yes… I’d like to be.”

“Good.” Namjoon purrs, suddenly approaching you and locking your chin between his thumb and index finger, his gaze utterly submitting. “Now, Y/N, are you okay with Jungkook and I playing with you tonight?”

Your sex violently pulses, sucking in a breath. You’ve never dabbled into this side of sex, nor exactly considered a threesome, but nothing in your body indicated this felt wrong—it felt entirely right. “Yes.”

Smirking, Namjoon’s eyes gloss over with a dark haze, flickering towards Jungkook. “Isn’t she gorgeous, JK? Don’t you just wanna worship her body? The way she deserves?”

“Fucking stunning.” Jungkook marvels, his deft, strong hands seductively roaming your body. “And yeah, that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

Not even granted the opportunity to reply, Jungkook’s hands develop a mind of their own, traversing your sensitive body as Namjoon guides your lips towards his, planting his hot mouth on you.

Namjoon’s kiss is nothing like the one you shared in their dorm. He’s calculative, erotic, and so slow you felt wholly adored. Jungkook’s lips suddenly latch onto your pulse point too, his hands sliding up your waist to slip his fingers underneath your shirt.

You gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, feeling your hormones spike as Jungkook inches upwards, teasing your fiery hot skin with his slightly callused hands. When he finally closes his palms over your bra-cladded breasts, you moan, pussy gushing more of your sticky essence.

“You like that?” Jungkook whispers hotly, squeezing your breasts again. You bow into him, pleasure burning through your blood. Namjoon breaks away to study the features of your face, lips morphing into a crooked smile.

“Out of breath already, cutie?”

You nibble your bottom lip, far too hypnotized to even speak—Namjoon smirks, fingers weaving into your hair.. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Gushing, your cheeks feel like lava by the time Namjoon pecks your lips again, and Jungkook abandons your neck, cooing. “It’d feel better like this, Y/N.”

Jungkook captures your hips and manuevers you to stand up, complying. He spins you around and tugs your ass back over his lap, your spine now pressed to his broad chest, feeling miniature in his gigantic arms.

You watch as Jungkook’s hands enclose your waist, now freely excavating your body. His tattooed hand sensually slides underneath your shirt, his lips grazing the crest of your ear.

“Can I take this off?”

Nodding vehemently, he slips the shirt off, leaving you in your bra and leggings. Jungkook lets out a puff of air once his hands connect with your bare skin, affectionately touching you. “Fuck, the softest skin… just like I imagined.”

Butterflies wreak havoc on you, nearly exploding when Namjoon suddenly kneels before you, gazing up at you with bewitching eyes. His hands settle on your knees, sliding over your thighs before ever-so gently pushing them open, gauging your response.

Your heart picks up rambunctious speed, pussy clenching as Jungkook’s hands begin slipping into your bra, and Namjooon’s opening up your legs, inching himself forward.

“You said your breakup was because you weren’t touched right, were you, Y/N?” Namjoon asks, his hands slowly gliding up and down your quads, coaxing cum out of like clockwork.

“I–”

“Speak, Y/N.”

Swallowing, you level your tone. “N-no, I wasn’t.”

“Did he kiss you right?” Namjoon queries, his lips simultaneously lowering to your clothed thigh, pressing a hot kiss—you swear Niagara Falls came out of you.

“Did he handle you right?” Jungkook’s hands skim across your ribcage as he unclips your bra, slowly casting off the straps as though he were waiting for you to stop him.

You never do.

“Did he know what you needed?” Namjoon’s lips suddenly reach your groin, pressing a kiss so close to your center that you jolt. His hands hook onto the band of your leggings, now elevated on his knees.

You’re shaking with immeasurably pleasure when your perky breasts are out in the open, completely entranced by the seductive pair.

Jungkook hisses before groping your bare breasts and you moan pornographically, nearly whimpering. He even dares adding a combination of erotic neck-kissing as he squeezes them, findles them, begins drawing tantilizing circles over your nipples—your back curves with a high-pitched moan.

He groans when you do, wrapping an arm around your torso and gluing you to him, lips finding your earlobe. He gently suckles on the flesh as he pinches one of your pert nubs—you curse, shoving your cunt closer to Namjoon’s face.

“God, you’re so sensitive. You deserve every last bit of pleasure, cutie.” Namjoon’s words ensnare your soul when he begins slowly tugging down your leggings, your pussy quivering with insatiable lust. You feel no need to yield either of them, floating on a cloud of satisfaction that feels infinite.

You lightly lift your ass as Namjoon removes your shoes and leggings, entirely aware of your near nakedness. It feels forbidden to be in this state in such a public, open space, heart quickening when it comes to mind.

“Namjoon… Jungkook… aren’t there cameras?” You squeak, pathetically squirming.

“Privacy concerns.” Jungkook whispers, his tongue coasting across your earlobe, shivers trickling down your spine. “There aren’t any cameras here.”

“Just us.” Namjoon assures you, now hiking up your horniness. Not only are you naked in a gym, but you’re being pleasured in an empty, public area by two men who absolutely adore you—what problems could you possibly have?

Sliding a hand into Jungkook’s hair behind you and your other into Namjoon’s in front, your pleasure is heightened when Namjoon kisses your bare thigh, sinking into your own euphoria—you moan as loudly as you please.

“Namjoon… Jungkook; don’t stop.”

You feel both men smirk against your skin, heeding your request. Jungkook’s thick fingers suddenly hook onto the band of your underwear, teasing your hips. He plays around with the lace until his fingers begin dancing towards your center, hissing by your ear.

“Fuck, I wonder how wet you are, Y/N.” His gorgeous, smooth voice soothes your eardrums, melting against him. “Let’s see how wet we get you, yeah?”

Whimpering as his fingers coast you, you peer at him over your shoulder. Jungkook slowly, but sensually slips into your sticky center, and you’re a goner. The contact his colder hand makes against your warm womanhood sends currents rippling throughout your system.

You jump with a shuddering whimper, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Fuck, that’s such a pretty sound.” Namjoon praises from below, teasing your thighs with his lush mouth. “Touch her again, Jungkook.”

Complying, Jungkook delves deeper into your sticky folds, but this time, presses into your pussy lips, lightly rubbing through them. You shudder with an erotic moan that echoes in the gym, scratching your nails into Jungkook’s neck.

He hums with satisfaction, groaning. “Christ, hyung, she’s fucking soaked.”

“Yeah?”

“See for yourself.”

Namjoon cocks a brow before he locks eyes with you, practically purring. “Can I take them off?”

He’s indicating your panties, and you pathetically nod. Namjoon slides his thumbs through the lacey sides and tugs down your underwear, his eyes blowing out once they land on your sex. “Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so wet and puffy. Practically dripping all over Jungkook.”

Embarassed, your cheeks heat up, hiding against Jungkook again. “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows acutely scrunch together, his hands gentle on your thighs after he casts away your underwear. “Why are you sorry, Y/N? Don’t say sorry.” He instructs, curling his hand around your cheek to hold your gaze seriously. “Your body is fucking gorgeous; you’re gorgeous.”

Timid, you feel your heart clench, throbbing against your ribs. Jungkook simultaneously stuffs his fingers against your cunt as well, drawing slow, small circles as he plays with your wetness—you quiver with intense pleasure.

“Drip on me all you want, baby.” Jungkook coos, kissing your shoulder. “That’s exactly what we want.”

Feeling comfortable, you peer up at Jungkook by your side, grateful for both of them. Your hand in Namjoon’s hair lightly pushes him back to your core, and your other clasps Jungkook’s cheek, sweeping him in a kiss.

Jungkook groans as your tongue slithers into his mouth, grazing your fingers down his tattooed arm and guiding his fingertips towards your clit. Jungkook’s smile interrupts your kiss, catching your drift, and his digits press into your throbbing pearl.

You wildly gasp, pussy lips palpitating for more, and Namjoon’s scheming between your legs, wetting his lips as he eyes you like Halloween candy. Jungkook notices, breaking away from your kiss. “Taste her, hyung. She’s probably sweet as fuck.”

With a lop-sided grin, Namjoon cages your thighs, throws them over his shoulders, and sinks into your core, pressing an open-mouthed kiss that lights your soul on fire. You quiver when his warm tongue glides through your folds, moaning uncontrollably. Namjoon slowly licks another long stripe through you as Jungkook decides to flick at your clit, ecstasy invading your bloodstream.

You sigh out pornographically, clinging to both of them desperately. You tug on Namjoon’s luscious locks as you clutch the tattooed hand Jungkook’s lodged between your legs, losing yourself. Your hips develop a mind of their own, yearning for Namjoon’s crafty tongue, your own longing for Jungkook and slipping it inside his mouth for a lustful, nasty kiss.

The sloppy sounds from your kissing and Namjoon eating you out fills your body with undeniable arousal, both men groaning deeply. You pant with arrant pleasure, pussy on fire and Jungkook’s taste melting over your tastebuds.

Jungkook’s free hand suddenly encircles your midriff, pushing up your boobs. You shudder when he begins fondling one of your nipples as he masterfully swirls his fingers on your sticky bud, spreading your wetness all over yourself.

“Jungkook… Namjoon… fuck.” You whimper, twitching when Namjoon’s tongue sweeps your palpitating hole. “I’m already gonna come… shit. I don’t wanna come so easily.”

“We can make you come as many times as you want, cutie.” Namjoon eases you. “Let us show you.”

Your innards explode when Namjoon and Jungkook suddenly begin moving faster, in sync, so harmonized and in rhythm you thank the Heavens for creating such fine men attuned to the female body. Namjoon tirelessly laps at the cum you ooze and Jungkook familiarizes himself with what makes you tick; drawing titillating patterns and flicking your clit side-to-side, circling your perky nipples.

Your moans accelerate to embarrassing speeds, signaling your impending orgasm. It’s building so quickly you have no idea how this is possible, so utterly turned on you’re too wound up to conjure up why. Things intensify; your sounds, your arousal, your climax that approaches by the second.

You become so loud that your hips ride Namjoon’s face, and Jungkook ensnares your chin to sink his thumb into your mouth, his voice dripping with sex.

“Suck on it, Y/N, suck on it like you would our cocks and moan like a pretty girl.”

You close your lips around his digit and swirl your tongue around it obediently, moaning in delirium. You lick and suck ceaselessly as Namjoon drives you insane between your legs, Jungkook’s fingers still working magic over your pearl. Your moans climb to high pitches as your pussy violently plapitates, your breaths clipping and your body shaking, every muscle tensing.

With one last of everything, you tip over the edge, orgasm detonating inside you. You come with a gasp, both men endearingly attentive as they pamper your naked, panting body through your euphoria. Namjoon’s tongue is languid and slow as Jungkook peppers your neck with kisses, fingers slowly fiddling with your battered bundle of nerves.

Oversensitive, you whimper, pleading eyes flashing towards Namjoon. “Joon, Koo, please.”

Namjoon pulls away from your sex, his gorgeous lips glistening with your cum. Jungkook also removes his hand, slipping his digits into his own mouth to get a taste of you—he groans. “Fuck, sweet like I said.”

“She tastes like Heaven.” Namjoon praises, admiring your flushed, blissed out face. “Sounds like Heaven, too.”

Coming down your high, your urge to pleasure the pair becomes searing, eyeing Namjoon specifically with hot determination. He’d just been the one to eat you out, and now you’re itching to swallow what you know to be his monster length in your mouth.

“Joon,” you purr, slinking into Jungkook’s comfortable arms. “Stand up.”

Cocking a brow, Namjoon steadily rises, eyeing you comfortably reclined in Jungkook’s embrace. You send Namjoon a seductive, tempting gaze as Jungkook wraps his brawny arms around you, scanning the former’s body up and down—you reach out your hand. “Come.”

Namjoon takes it, letting you pull him forward until his hips are leveled with your face, tugging at your bottom lip. Your hands glide up his muscly thighs to grip onto his hips, peering up at him with a silent plea.

His dragon eyes spark with arousal, watching as Jungkook casts your hair away from your face—Namjoon grins. “She’s definitely crafty.”

“And cute.” Jungkook smiles widely. “Just our type.”

Namjoon slinks his hand into your hair, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I’ll let you take me in your mouth, cutie. But we’ll need you in a different position.”

Intrigued, you whisper faintly “What position?”

Namjoon grips you with a feral look. “One that’ll never let you forget tonight.”

Namjoon sends Jungkook a knowing look, and Jungkook moves out from underneath you, his pretty lips soon by your ear. “Can we stretch you the way we want, baby?”

Gushing, you nod, feeling their hands skim across your fiery skin. You gasp when Jungkook suddenly tugs your hips upward, perched on all fours on the machine’s bed with your ass up, staring directly at Namjoon’s manhood.

Your arousal seeps down your groin at just the thought of what they’ll do to you like this, eager for more.

“Fuck, she already wants more.” Jungkook watches you from behind in awe, smoothing his palm over your lower back. “You want us to fill you up that badly, baby?”

Nodding, Namjoon lightly chuckles in front of you, adoring your keen expression. He bends down, gripping your chin. “Trust me, cutie, we’re gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel us for days.”

You shiver with pleasure, sending him a lacisivous smile. “Then get to work, boys.”

Namjoon flexes his jaw before sexily smiling, rising again. His erection evidently strains against the material of his shorts, itching to have him inside your cheeks. Namjoon steps closer, extending his hand to stroke your hair. The action submits you, eventually settling your ass over your tucked legs, eyes gleaming up at him.

Namjoon groans. “Fuck, look at you sitting all pretty, ready for me.”

Your heart glows, hooking onto the waistband of Namjoon’s shorts and boxers, close to tugging them down until you suddenly earn a spank to your ass, hard. You gasp, but your pussy spasms with arousal, peering over your shoulder.

“Jungkook!” You earn no reply when he answers by gripping your hips and tugging your ass up again, easing the site of the impact.

“Did I say you could lower your ass?”

Choking, you can’t believe how hot he is, shaking your head. “No.”

“Then stay like this, baby.” Jungkook coos, caressing your spine with a gentle push that causes you to arch. “I haven’t gotten to taste you yet.”

Eyes blowing out, you can’t even respond when Namjoon traps your chin again, forcing you to look at him. “Taste me while he tastes you, cutie.”

Impressed by their sexual prowess, you oblige, completely taken by both of them. You tug down Namjoon’s shorts along with his boxers, and your mouth immediately waters

He’s thick, and he’s huge.

Fuck.

Namjoon chuckles as your reaction, threading his fingers through your hair. “Take your time, Y/N. We’ve got all night.”

Hearing his deep, low voice hum so huskily, you melt, wrapping your hand around his shaft to experiment. You’re fascinated by the beads of cum that already escape him, how he hotly throbs in your grip. You pump him gently, listening to him sucking in a hard breath, suppressing a groan.

Jungkook behind you gets to work, suddenly sliding his fingers through your folds. You shudder in your position, gasping when his breath fans across your netherlips.

You focus on Namjoon’s cock, reaching out your tongue to drag it along his bulging veins, gently applying pressure until you reach his leaking slit. You press the tip of your tongue against it, and Namjoon beautifully groans, cursing. “Fuck.”

Thrilled, you repeat the sensation, this time slowly swiveling your wet muscle around his dick, tasting him for all he’s worth. Namjoon hisses as his grip tightens in your hair, letting out a string of profanities. “Shit, Y/N, you crafty fucking tease.”

Smirking, you lick him like a lollipop, but add a twist—your hand comes up to fondle his balls. Namjoon’s hand suddenly tugs at your hair, nearly shoving his cock into your mouth in that instant.

“For fuck’s sake, you conniving woman.” A deep groan escapes the back of his throat, hissing louder. “I’ll fuck your face if you do that again, Y/N. Don’t.”

Disobeying, you’re too confident in your power. You absorb the pleasure Jungkook’s fingers provide from behind you, fuelling you to plunge Namjoon into your mouth. He shudders above you, his cock twitching within you. “Y/N—”

You ignore him squeezing his eyes shut and his hips fighting his self-control, desperate to see him lose it. You slowly drive him into your mouth inch by inch, moaning as he perfectly invades you—your body lights up with fire.

Jungkook suddenly speaks up from behind you, marvelling. “My fucking God, she loves it, hyung. She’s dripping again, such a nasty girl.”

Simultaneously, Jungkook’s done playing with your pussy and decides to dive in, his pretty lips enveloping your sex. You moan harder with Namjoon lodges himself inside you and Jungkook’s mouth is hot on your cunt; his version of eating out is completely different.

For such a cute, small set of lips, Jungkook mouths you as though you’re an oasis in the middle of the Sahara.

He goes to town, tongue wiggling through your folds as he licks at your leaking cum, his fingers claiming your clit again. Your moans cause Namjoon in front to take control of your speed, weaving both hands into your hair. He grasps your head to gently fuck his cock into your mouth, eventually relinquishing control to him, engulfed in your pleasure from both ends.

Namjoon begins thrusting, crafting his own intoxicating pace that fills your mouth with his girthy, leaking cock. He tastes divine, and his dark, spell-binding gaze from above is glorious, letting him wreck your face as he pleases.

Jungkook’s no different; he dominates you from behind, too. In the midst of eating you out, his finger slides into your spasming hole, your back jerking as he curls it to scrape against your frontal walls. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations travelling up your center and rattling your core.

His hot breaths feel tantalizing, eventually riding his face with wanton pleasure. Jungkook curses at your eager hips, plunging a second finger inside you that causes you to cry out, arms and legs shaking.

Both men catch the sight of your quivering body. Jungkook soothes your spasming thighs from behind, cooing. “You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good.”

“I’m close, cutie. Just a little more for me.” Namjoon pants, propelling his hips into your face. At one point, he stuffs himself so deep inside you he kisses the spongy end of your throat. You immediately gag, tears pooling in your eyes as you swallow around him.

Big mistake; Namjoon curses through his teeth, letting out a broken moan. “Holy fuck–”

You hollow your cheeks around him in response, sucking like a mad woman and pouring your strength into staying upright, nabbing his balls again. You squeeze and fondle them, Namjoon’s guttural, masculine sounds filling your ears like a symphony.

“Fuckkk…”

“This pussy, so fucking good.” Jungkook praises behind you, eating you up like dessert. “The wettest ever. What I’ll do once I’m inside you…”

His words drive him to push three fingers inside you, gasping when his ring finger penetrates you. Your walls clamp around his digits, his other hand already toying with your clit as his tongue works tireless magic, driving you towards the edge.

You cry as Namjoon hammers your face and Jungkook finger-fucks you from behind, your pleasure so overwhelming your limbs are twitching, nerves ready to explode. Namjoon’s groans become faster, harder, slamming his throbbing cock into you as you uncontrollably gag.

Namjoon quickly asks, his eyes dripping with urgency. “Are you okay with swallowing me?” His hips only slow down by a notch. “Tell me, cutie, I’m so fucking close.”

When you nod, Namjoon revives his lethal pace and forces himself so deep within your throat, his cum shoots against the back of it, the taste detonating across your tongue. You mewl, Jungkook cleverly sliding his fingers against your g-spot, his familiar fingers fondling your clit so deliciously that your second orgasm rolls through you.

It splatters all over his tongue, and he groans as he licks you, cursing. “Fucking hell, come all over me, Y/N. Let me lick you up.”

His nasty words drive you to release more, pussy throbbing with heat. But the burgeoning demands more, your insides beg to be filled and fucked so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.

Namjoon draws out of your mouth, faltering back to collect himself, no doubt still riding his high. On the contrary, Jungkook’s rabid behind you, your body collapsing forward and giving out. He allows you time to rest, even peppers your backside with kisses and praises, soothing you.

“The best girl ever, our girl.” He coos, moving slowly and considerately. But you don’t want him to be slow and considerate, you don’t care how tired you are, there’s something about this moment that compels you to crave more, desperate for it.

You muster the strength to shove your ass back against Jungkook, peeking over your shoulder. “Jungkook, please… please fuck me.”

His eyes blow out, his hand careful over your spine. “Y/N, are you sure?”

“Please?” You beg, eyes glistening as you beseech. “Fuck me like a pathetic slut, fuck me hard.”

He shudders out a groan behind you, caressing your ass. “Baby, if I fuck you hard, you’ll feel me in your stomach.”

“Then fill me up,” you blurt out, on the verge of tears for more, knowing how hard Jungkook must be, how deliciously he’d fuck you. “Wanna feel you inside me, Jungkook… now.”

Hissing behind you, Jungkook can’t help but roam his palm over your ass, suddenly whipping it back to spank you again. You buck forward, moaning erotically. In the same swift motion, Jungkook captures your hips, flips you onto your back, and slots himself between your legs. He instantly hunches over you, his doe eyes staring carnally into yours as his hands settle either side of your head—you can't help but gaze at him in shock before timidly averting your eyes

“Look at me, Y/N.” He commands. The intimate missionary position fills your lung with fire, your legs hovering around his hips. Your breath hitches as his scent invades your nostrils, tempted by the wild look in his eyes when you connect glances again—his husky timbre is to die for. “Do I look like I’m kidding when I say I’m going to fuck you stupid hard?”

His dominance submits you, shaking your head—Jungkook’s lips threaten to smirk. “You want me to fuck you stupid hard?”

Shamelessly nodding, Jungkook clasps your chin, plastering his lips against yours for a messy kiss before whispering against them. “Good, then hold me close, and never let go.”

Heart and pussy gushing, you cling your arms around Jungkook’s neck, feeling your sex flutter open as he positions himself between you. He tugs down his pants to his thighs and gently pumps his rock solid cock, mouth watering once you gain sight of his leaking flesh. He’s slightly longer than Namjoon and only a little less girthier, but Jungkook’s veins are utterly gorgeous, lighting you on fire.

You tug at his shirt, causing Jungkook to stretch up to his full height and grip the back of his top, sexily sliding it off. He tosses the thing aside and hunches over you again, your eager hands welcoming his beautiful, bare skin. You excavate him, skimming your nails across his perfect pecs and slabs of muscle. You can’t help but reach up and envelope him in a head-spinning kiss, Jungkook groaning as his cock caresses your naked pussy every now and then.

A smug grin tugs Jungkook’s lips when you break away, regarding you below. He nearly lowers himself to claim your lips again, but seems to notice Namjoon opposite of you—he laughs through his words. “See you still got your voyeurism kink?”

Tilting your head upwards, you find a flushed, blissed out Namjoon watching you and Jungkook as he reclines against an exercise machine—his smile is utterly shit-eating. You hear Namjoon’s gorgeous chuckle before his tired voice follows. “Of course, idiot. Still got your exhibitionism kink?”

“No shit, dumbass.” Your heart secretly grins before you perk up and kiss Jungkook again, impatiently craving him. He returns your liplock, tongue delving into your mouth before he pulls away, threading his fingers through your hair. “Are you okay with Namjoon watching us, baby?”

Skimming your fingers across Jungkook’s perfect jaw, you peek up at Namjoon again, who’s expression is so devilishly invested, your pussy palpitates—you nod. Did you want Namjoon to watch Jungkook absolutely rail you? Yes, yes you did. Why? You’ll find the reason out later. “Yes.”

Jungkook’s lips beautifully curve, his eyes swirling with self-control he valiantly fights to keep alive. “Let’s use a condom?”

“No, IUD.” You pout. “Please, Jungkook, just fuck me.”

He charmingly chuckles, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “You trust us that much?”

“Yes.” You blurt out, hands desperately entwining in his hair. Jungkook tugs at his bottom lip, completely taken by you. His hands suddenly grip your body hard, squaring his jaw as he lets out a deep breath.

“Say it again.”

Eyes rounding with innocence, you coo softly. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

“Again.” He urges.

“Jungkook, please…” you beseech, gripping him tightly. “Fuck my tight little pussy.”

You swear the groan that bellows out of him is earth-shattering, readying you for his intrusion.

When Jungkook enters you, you swear Heaven and Hell collide to create the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Your wet walls easily make way for him to dive in, slowly inserting himself inch by painstaking inch. Jungkook deliciously moans as he invades you, his nose flush against yours, his breaths fanning across your swollen lips.

He grunts once he meets the end of you, your heart jackhammering away as Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, unable to contain himself.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so warm, Y/N. The way you’re smothering my dick…” He can’t even finish his sentence while you’re similarly faded, the sheer size of him inside you utterly fulfilling, enthralling—you whimper pathetically.

“Big… Jungkook… you feel so big.”

Jungkook hides his face in the crook of your neck, peppering you with comforting kisses. “Relax, Y/N. Open up for me baby, bit by bit.”

Attempting to calm yourself down, you suddenly feel a pair of hands settle over your shoulders, opening your eyes to find Namjoon above, his kind irises reassuring you. “Just in and out, cutie. Jungkook’s gonna fuck you hard, so relax for him, yeah?”

Insides twisting with arousal, you nod, heeding his request. You unclench your pussy walls and rather welcome Jungkook’s invigorating member, soaking in the slight pain as pleasure, melting when Namjoon pairs your efforts with a supportive shoulder massage.

You instantly relax, and Jungkook feels it, smiling down at you. “Atta girl.”

Flushed, your heart leaps out of your chest when Jungkook suddenly secures his hands on your shins, pushing them back. He watches himself draw out of your sex, only for a second, until he thrusts back in, hard and deep.

You gasp erotically, chest rising and falling as your nails dig into his neck muscles. “Jungkook–!”

“Too hard?”

“No… just like that,” you pant, eyes beaming with feral desire. “Fuck me just like that.”

His smirk is sinfully handsome, not wasting another second. Jungkook grips your legs tightly as he pulls out, long and slow, and thrusts into you with force yet again, practically nudging your stomach like he claimed he would. Your body quivers when he dares swivel his cock inside you, rubbing against your sensitive g-spot.

Your legs pathetically spasm, whimpering as your hands claw into his meaty deltoids. He clearly determines something, caging your eyes with an intense gaze before replicating the same cosmic thrust—you squeak.

“There?” He coos, his irises obsidian.

“Right there, Jungkook.”

Driven, Jungkook slowly removes himself before sheathing himself inside you again, and again, and again until he finds a delicious pace, fucking you with a hard and deep rhythm that causes your slapping bodies to resound around the gym. You gasp and sensually sigh as Jungkook spreads you wider, thrusting powerfully into your velvet walls that attempt to hold him captive.

Namjoon is your relentless support system as Jungkook drives himself in you with such jaw-droppingly good friction, tears well up in your eyes, wrought with undeniable pleasure.

Jungkook’s lips hang open as he fucks you with vigor, enhancing the entire experience when he hugs your thighs between his arms and elevating your hips, completely destroying your pussy. He penetrates you roughly, delivering astounding thrusts that smash your pulsing g-spot, crying out in pleasure.

“Jungkook… fuck!”

“I swear, Y/N.” Jungkook pants, his eyes hungry as his hips move in a frenzy. “Fuck everyone’s definition of a slut, you’re our slut, baby. Our pretty fucking slut.”

“Ours,” Namjoon echoes above you, shocked when he kisses you, his eyes warm and caring. “Our girl, our good fucking girl.”

Gushing, their words help you consider that… yes, if you’re any slut, then you’re their slut. These two delicious men have had you by your pussy since the day you met them, and nothing makes you more content than claiming Jack’s insult back and having them fuck your brains out, giving you the sex you deserve.

“Look at how well you take Jungkook, cutie. Look.” Namjoon prompts you to watch the way Jungkook enters you, the carnal man grunting as his hips meld with yours. The erotic image of his long, gigantic dick somehow shoving inside your spasming pussy walls causes your back to arch, Jungkook losing his composure.

“Fuck… ahh fuck.” He curses, hissing violently. “God, Y/N, you’re so fucking tight.”

“The prettiest girl in the fucking world.” Namjoon praises, coasting his hands over your collarbones and closing his palms around your breasts—you instantly gasp. “Don’t stay quiet, cutie. Take Jungkook like you mean it.”

Both you and Jungkook groan, working your bodies with blissful harmony as Namjoon fingers your hard nipples. Your sighs spill out a mantra of Jungkook’s name, begging him for more, to fuck you wildly. He hisses as a result, so loud that he suddenly leans back up and grabs your wrists off his arms. He holds onto you for leverage as he begins jackhammering into your gushing sex, hollering his name.

“Jungkook!”

“Fuck!” He grits, breathing and sweating harshly as he thrusts into you like a madman. “I’ll fucking come, Jesus!”

Desiring your undoing as well, you wish for friction against your clit, almost releasing your hand to do so until Namjoon reads your mind. He reaches over and nestles his fingers against your clit, fondling the vibrating bundle of nerves.

“Joon…” You whimper.

“Let go, cutie.” He coos, stroking your hair. “Come for us again, one more time.”

Namjoon pecks you as your eyes fall to Jungkook’s powerful body fucking you with such vehemence, with delicious force that drives your high. The sexy image of his abs flexing, his gorgeous frame moving so roughly—you’re extremely close to unraveling. “Jungkook, oh my God, oh my God!”

“Your pussy, fucking shit, so good, so fucking good!” Jungkook lets out a string of curses, adding the last of his strength into his monstrous thrusts that quite literally reach your stomach. You mewl out uncontrollably as Jungkook mercilessly pounds you, absolutely battering your pussy.

But that’s not enough, Jungkook’s officially gone off the rails.

His hand suddenly wraps around your throat, leaning over to squeeze the sides and lightly restrict your airway. You swear you live on cloud nine by then, pleasure throbbing in your veins so hard you grip his tattooed wrist as he chokes you, lips spilling out senseless moans as he vociferously owns your body and pussy.

Before you know it, Namjoon’s circles on your clit cause your walls to clamp down on Jungkook’s cock so tightly, you arrive before you intend to, an explosive orgasm blossoming inside you. Jungkook grunts out when your walls trap him, releasing your throat to slide his hand into your hair, cradling your body. He accelerates his strokes quickly, fucking you senseless until he suddenly comes to a stop, imploring you.

“Y/N… cum… on your face?”

You don’t even care, in such delirium that tasting his cum would be a perfectly divine addiction. Jungkook instantly pulls out, fucking his slickened dick into his fist before his hot seed spills all over your agape mouth. He coats your lips, cheek, and chin, giving you the facial of a lifetime.

You shamelessly taste him, tongue poking out to lick his cum and Jungkook groans at the sight, absolutely weak for you. “Y/N, you’re fucking perfect—I swear I could fall in love.”

His compliment boosts your ego, catching the last remnants of him. You glide your thumb across the stray strings of his cum and swipe it into your mouth, moaning when you lick him. Jungkook flashes you a fucked out grin, his beautiful hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his muscles beautifully bulging.

When Jungkook steps away, you attempt to rise, but you’re completely tuckered out, nearly falling. Namjoon catches you from behind, locking eyes with him again. “You took so much, cutie. I know you’re tired, let me treat you, hm?”

Delirious, you lightly groan, legs and pussy absolutely destroyed. “Namjoon…” You breathe, reaching out for him, and he immediately tends to you, encasing you in his arms. “I got you, cutie.”

Being positioned once again, Namjoon fixes you both so that you’re seated on the machine’s bed again, except, you’re facing its backrest, confused. Namjoon soothes your shoulders and kisses the space between them before he casts your hair back, whispering from behind. “Lift up your hips, cutie.”

Complying, you do as told, and you’re surprised by what happens next; Namjoon slots himself underneath your cunt, his face inches from being sat on—you scandalously gasp. “Namjoon, no way—”

“Sit down, cutie.” He eases you, running his hands up and down your sides. “Let me make you feel better.”

Apprehensive, your cheeks warm. “I’ll suffocate you like this, Joon—”

“Y/N, sit on my face before I spank you.”

His order sends a current rippling through your system, gulping. His gorgeous hands form to your hips once he sees your hesitancy, slowly lowering you, his hot breath fanning your battered folds. You moan when you feel him underneath, your breasts squishing against the backseat of the machine’s bed, nipples hardening

You still hover, your face hot with shame, but before you can speak Namjoon tugs down your core and into his open mouth. You gasp against the seat, nails grappling onto the edge with your life. Namjoon was right; when his tongue slowly glides across your torn up sex, his slow, sensual licks supply you with ease.

You throw your head back as you gently begin riding his face, drowning in his euphoric pleasure once again. He’s truly gifted with his tongue, you think, his intimate licks and ministrations acting as soothing balm to your spasming pussy.

With arousal still burning within your veins, you’re shocked when your eyes flutter open to the touch of fingers caressing your chin. You find Jungkook behind the machine’s seat above you, tilting your head up. His playful eyes send a message of lust, his scheming tongue wetting his lips. It’s not until you see him pumping his cock again, are you intrigued by the sight and his dirty thoughts.

Watching him fist-fuck himself instantly heightens your pleasure, groaning loudly as Namjoon licks between your thighs and your nipples scrape against the leather. Jungkook may have just been jerking off to earn his hardness back, but you’re hungry for more, fearlessly curling your hand around Jungkook’s fist. You unravel his fingers, entwining your hands and pulling him towards your face.

When you send him a submissive gaze, his eyes haze over with carnality. “Y/N, are you sure?”

Tossing aside a reply, you sink his delicious length past your tight lips, moaning once his cock settles over your tongue. The weight of him causes cum to ooze out of you, even more so his taste. You instinctually begin sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks as Namjoon crafts Heaven between your legs.

The deeply masculine sound that escapes Jungkook is like a symphony, him smoothing your hair like a good girl. You shake when Namjoon simultaneously moans beneath you, sending the vibrations to ripple through your core.

“Fuck… Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice wavers, his deft digits brushing your hair back into a makeshift ponytail and taking control of the pace, fucking into your mouth. The pleasure on both ends of you is glorious, tears escaping your eyes when Jungkook’s cock slams against the back of your throat.

He grows hard inside your mouth again, splitting you open bit by bit until something stirs deeply within you; another orgasm. You can’t orgasm again like this, you need penetration now or you’ll die empty.

Digging your nails into Jungkook’s tattooed wrist, he notices your strain, pulling out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Inside me… I can’t anymore…” You beg, catching your breath after being so full. You cough, throat sparse after all it's been through, and Jungkook immediately dips down, cupping your face and sealing your mouths for a sweet kiss.

“We got you, baby.” He coos, releasing you to suddenly disappear behind you. Namjoon also stops licking your cunt, his full lips painted with your essence. You watch in awe as he makes eye contact with Jungkook and suddenly shuffles upwards—you are now seated on his lap. You pant once you face him, cheeks as hot as lava, skin covered in sweat.

Namjoon cradles your body lovingly, brushing your hair from your face. “One last time, cutie.” His heated breath fans across your cheek. “Let us pleasure our girl one last time.”

Head spinning with a sex-crazed haze, you nod, arms clinging around Namjoon for support. Jungkook’s hands suddenly encircle your hips, massaging into them from behind. Delicately, you ask. “What… what are you… going to do?”

Smirking, Namjoon presses a kiss to your nose, Jungkook smoothing your hair.

“We’re gonna stretch you out, cutie.” Namjoon’s smooth, deep voice sounds like music to your ears.

Jungkook’s lips brush your lobe from behind, too. “Will you let us, Y/N? Run our hands all over your body? Fuck you like you deserve? Together?”

Feeling so infinitely coddled by them, you smile, heart soaring. Nodding, your eyes connect intimately with both of them. Namjoon nestles his finger underneath your chin, guiding you towards him. He leans close and seals your mouths, enveloping you in a consuming kiss.

His tongue immediately invades you, tasting yourself on him. Your naked breasts press against his clothed chest, and your hands get to work. Yearning for his hot skin against yours, you greedily push up his shirt until his shoulders, Namjoon stripping it off and tossing it away.

You sigh when he embraces you and your hot, sweaty skin connects, your hands sliding into his gorgeous head of hair. Namjoon’s thick, assured hands roam down your sides, gliding over your ass and gripping it as hard as he could. Jungkook isn’t lacking either, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and stroking your lower back.

Your hands develop their own mind and feel Namjoon’s broad chest, scraping your nails down his taut stomach and strong abdomen until you clasp his solid dick.

Namjoon twitches in your hold, gripping your hand. “Put me in together?”

Nodding with a nibble of your lip, Namjoon holds you tighter, lightly lifting you against him. He positions you over his tip, aligning himself perfectly. You suck in a breath, breathing rapidly, eyes naturally connecting with Namjoon’s blown out ones.

“Breathe in,” Namjoon instructs, and just as you breathe out, the man spears you on his thick cock.

“Ngh…” You moan loudly, clamping down on your lip to contain yourself. No matter how sore, Namjoon feels exponential, his elongated member scraping past your pulsating walls.

“Fuckkk.” Namjoon groans, deep and husky. He takes a minute as he throbs inside you, your pussy clenching him repeatedly. “You fit like a fucking glove, Y/N.”

Mewling, you grip his hair, every nerve-ending in your body coming alive. Namjoon buries his hand in your hair too, elevating your hips to draw himself out of you, only to smash you back over.

Your moans spill into his mouth, drunk on the feeling of him. “So thick, Joon… fuck.”

“Let’s go harder, cutie.” He coos, pressing you against his chest. “Can you?”

Nodding, Namjoon lifts up your body to sheath himself back in harshly. The sensation explodes inside you, this position offering a deeper experience. He prods the end of you almost painfully, but your arousal expands you enough, fluttering your eyes shut with pleasure.

He repeats the action harder, borrowing deeply inside you once again. He tickles your very soul as he forces you down over him but elevates his hips, skewering you completely.

You wail shamelessly, shuddering against his mouth. He wastes no time in crafting a delicious pace then, bouncing you over his cock until your bodies rut against each other, skin slapping against skin. Your erotic moans circle throughout the gym as Jungkook’s hands form to your hips, his lips brushing your ear.

“Lift up your cute ass, baby.” He purrs, threading his digits through your hair. Glancing over your shoulder, your teary eyes question him.

“Why?”

“We’re gonna fill you up, cutie.” Namjoon pants, easing you up with his benign hands and decelerating his thrusts. You comply by gently lifting your ass, and Namjoon slides lower beneath you, causing you to naturally incline you forward—you’re positioned on all-fours on top of him again.

A shocked gasp erupts from our chest when you suddenly feel your second hole being prodded, air sucked out of your lungs. “Oh my god, Jungkook—“

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Yes… I just—“ you shudder when Namjoon slightly pushes inside you, pussy vigorously palpitating around him. “I’ve never had… I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” Namjoon swipes his thumb across your cheek, soothing you. “Jungkook’s gonna be gentle.”

“I’ll go slow, Y/N, I promise you'll feel good.” Jungkook kisses your neck, pampering you with his sweet mouth and delicate touches. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to, yeah?”

Weighing the options, you decide to nod. You’d already been experiencing such astonishing things tonight, why not add to the treasury?

Inhaling Namjoon’s cologne deeply, you prepare yourself for Jungkook’s intrusion. He lightly plays with your second hole, gently fingering it. You gasp when he suddenly leans over and spits on it, using his saliva to slicken up the entrance.

You’re grateful Namjoon’s claimed a slower, steadier pace beneath you. It allows you the time to conjure up strength when Jungkook pushes his finger into your hole, cursing with pleasure.

You’re shocked; the sensation is entirely foreign, but not unwelcome. He experiments more, suddenly caressing his fingers through your dripping pussy that Namjoon slowly fucks. He smears it all over you, even teasing your perineum with your fluids.

Wanton moans escape you, thrilled by the explosive sensations. But nothing compares to the sound you make when Jungkook lightly slaps his erect cock over your puckered hole. Your face falters into Namjoon’s chest, offering up your ass even more for Jungkook.

He chuckles behind you, palm slapping a cheek. You shudder, pussy gushing cum like a waterfall. Namjoon groans when you clench around him, and Jungkook smooths over the point of impact. “That’s the spirit, Y/N.”

Suppressing a moan, you almost snap back something witty before he suddenly aligns himself with you, his soft tip poking your tightest hole. Air leaves your lungs the second he pushes, gasping for oxygen as you habitually refuse him.

“Don’t tense, baby.” Jungkook advises, kneading your backside. “Open up for me baby, slowly.”

His affectionate tone causes you to loosen up, accepting rather than rejecting his intrusion. You let him sink himself further, steadily inserting himself with the help of your acceptance and the mixture of saliva and cum.You smother Namjoon’s dick inside your first hole to accommodate Jungkook, and pleasure bleeds inside you.

Your walls spasm violently, the sensation of being filled in both holes utterly riveting. To think you’d be sandwiched like this between such gorgeous men, with both of them inside you? Tending to your body with such attuned knowledge of the female body and your pleasure?

You may as well be in Heaven.

It certainly feels like it when Jungkook manages to shove at least a third of himself inside you, stopping when your breaths clip too quickly. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Y/N, hey,” Namjoon catches your grimacing features, clasping your head between his hands and prompting you to open your eyes, his irises warm. “Are you with us? Is it too much?”

Swallowing, you adjust to the euphoric sensations, and a smug smile tugs at your lips. You flash him a lustful look, each intake of oxygen reminding of your filled holes, and buzzing with irreplaceable pleasure. “It’s perfect… more.”

Namjoon smirks upon noticing the gleam in your eyes, leaning forward for a kiss. “Yeah, you’re definitely our girl.”

Jungkook beautifully chuckles behind you, and it isn’t long before you’re skewered by both beefy, brawny men, whose large, masculine hands hold your body in place as they fuck you. Namjoon sheaths himself inside your pussy as slowly as Jungkook thrusts into your tightest hole, being considerate as ever.

Your arousal begins blinding you, the burgeoning inside you far too violent. You need more; need a faster, deeper pace that fucks you into oblivion.

You’re not one to ever let a man use you, but right now, you want nothing but to be fucked senseless by both Namjoon and Jungkook. You yearn for your body to pleasure them, to screw you with such abandon that you’ll senselessly scream.

“Namjoon… Jungkook… harder. Fuck me harder.”

Breathing harshly, they heed your request, Namjoon gripping your sides and Jungkook holding your hips, both of them suddenly making eye contact over you. They seem to agree on something, and you swear the stars align for you when they employ their plan.

They both simultaneously pull out of you, letting you whine with ire, just to shove back in at the same time. Your lungs relocate themselves, moaning into Namjoon’s mouth as they repeat the action, thrusting into you with such force your eyes roll back.

The devilish pair leave themselves deep inside you, and cleverly swivel around their gigantic cocks until you’re a whimpering, blubbering mess, nails digging into whatever you held onto.

“Fuck… fuck–!”

“You feel us, Y/N?” Namjoon rasps. “Feel how hard you make us?”

“Scream, Y/N.” Jungkook’s husky voice enlivens you, even more so his roaming, caressing hand that eventually slides up your back and grips your hair into a ponytail. He leans over and breathes into your ear, his grip firm on your tresses. “Let us hear how we make you feel, fucking scream for us.”

Exhaling sharply, you swear your limbs shake with pleasure when both men soon neglect their sycnhronisation to merely pound both your holes, fucking you amorously. Jungkook uses his grip on your hair as leverage to hammer your second hole, and Namjoon propels his hips into you from underneath, no doubt chasing his high.

“Fucking shit, this is so hot.” He grits, his eyes glued to the way your breasts jostle in his face. “Look at you take it, taking us like our perfect little slut.”

“God, and you’re so gorgeous from behind, Y/N.” Jungkook groans, smashing your ass once again as he thrusts into your tightest hole. “You’re so tight here; I’ll fucking come again.”

Overwhelmed with their murderous penetration, an orgasm you didn’t even think possible begins sizzling inside you. Namjoon’s cock constantly smashes into your g-spot and Jungkook’s intrusion in such a sensitive area has stars dancing behind your eyes.

Your veins explode inside your body when Jungkook reaches around to your front and tucks his fingers into your pussy folds, suddenly ensnaring your clit to rub vigorously at. You falter, now shamelessly crying into Namjoon’s warm neck as your pleasure overwhelms you, white hot flashes of electricity spasming through your bloodstream.

You feel dizzy, breathing so hard you swear you’ll pass out. “Fuck, guys… I’m gonna—fuck!”

“Shit, fucking shit!” Namjoon grits, hammering into your battered pussy. “I’m gonna come, I can’t fucking hold it back.”

“God-fucking-dammit, me too. I’ll come inside her if I don’t pull out now.”

Both men groan and grunt as they contain themselves, Namjoon brushing your tear-stained cheek and cooing. “We won’t stop until you come, cutie, but can we come inside you? Creampie you like you deserve?”

With laboured breaths, you nod, body quivering from exhaustion. “C-cream… me… please.” You beg. “Fill me up… Joon…. Koo…”

They don’t need to be told twice, the pair instantly accelerate their paces until you’re entirely obliterated, suddenly feeling your holes hot with bouts of semen. They fuck you through the filling, never allowing their hips to stop moving until another orgasm possesses your body, climaxing with a high-pitched squeal.

They slow down, subtly thrusting into your holes to let you ride out your orgasm. You can’t even stay still, collapsing into Namjoon’s chest with a thud. You’re delirious, eyes threatening to fall shut. You faintly detect Namjoon chuckling, his chest rumbling as his fingertips dance across your temple, casting away your messy hair.

“Shit, we may have fucked her asleep.”

You want to laugh like they do, but your body refuses to move. Flickering your weary eyes up at Namjoon, you meet his gaze that brims with raw adoration. He’s soon joined by Jungkook beside him, who also regards you softly.

“Look at her, she’s so cute.” Jungkook praises, feeling his thumb coasts your cheek.

“She took a lot; we need to take care of her.” Namjoon declares, motioning to Jungkook. “She’s probably a mess, get the tissues from my bag, JK.”

Jungkook nods and locates some of his clothes abandoned on the ground, momentarily disappearing.

A sigh of relief escapes your nose once you feel a warm, wet something being gently rubbed through your folds, someone’s fingers also massaging your scalp, threading through your hair. The intimate, somnolent nature of both their care leaves sleep threatening your eyes, ready to drift away.

You feel Namjoon laugh, who still cradles your unmoving, naked body over him. “She’s so sleepy, she’s like a kitten.”

Jungkook breathes a laugh, too, his careful hands sweeping across your thighs and groins. “She deserves rest.”

“We should get her dressed and take her home,” Namjoon suggests, the calming rumble of his voice lulling you into your slumber. “She’s gonna feel this tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I’ll get her bottoms, you get her top.”

Both men work harmoniously to gently dress you, extremely cautious of your dreary state. You eventually feel yourself pressed against another chest, being held by strong arms—you recognize the scent of Jungkook’s cologne wafting around.

“Did you get her things?”

“Yup,” You hear Namjoon jangling some keys, perhaps locking the gym. “Lemme look for her address in our messages.”

It isn’t long before the vanilla scent of your favourite candle hits your nose, slipping between consciousness and unconsciousness. Nothing alarmed you when you felt the boys enter your room and begin undressing you for the night. Your chest rather felt warm, loved, whole-heartedly full—you trusted them.

They knew their way around your home enough to eventually set you in a pair of sleeping shorts and a camisole, tucking you into bed. You swear there’s a set of pillowy lips pressed to your cheek and someone’s fingers sweeping your hair from your face before hearing their departing voices.

“Alright, let’s head back to ours.” Namjoon whispers.

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “We should let her sleep.”

Willing yourself to move, the thought of them abandoning your room fills you with sorrow. Prying open your eyes, you find a tattooed arm closest to you, latching onto Jungkook’s wrist.

“Wait.”

Your sleepy tone causes both Namjoon and Jungkook to swivel around, Jungkook gripping your hand back. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Stay…”

Both men furrow their brows, Namjoon stepping towards Jungkook’s side. “Are you sure, Y/N? You don’t want space from us?”

Your heart melts thinking they considered such a thing; that perhaps after such elevated levels of intimacy, you’d like some privacy—little did they know that you’ve always been a bit obsessed with their company, and you desire to be smothered by them forever.

Eyes softening into pleading orbs, you slide your fingers through Jungkook’s. “Please?”

Sweetly smiling, both Namjoon and Jungkook nod—Jungkook running his thumb over the back of your hand and Namjoon smoothing your hair. Both boys don’t waste time in stripping down to more comfortable amounts of clothing, and soon crawling into your bed.

Namjoon nuzzles behind you as Jungkook settles in front. You’re sandwiched by them immediately, relaxing when Namjoon encircle your waist and tugs you close, while Jungkook’s arm slips underneath your neck, cradling your head. He keeps your entwined hands connected, too, tangling your legs together.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispers, fixing the blanket on you.

“Goodnight, cutie.” Namjoon echoes—you reply sleepily to them.

“Goodnight, guys.”

And with both of them pressing a kiss to your hair, you leave tonight’s escapade to be discussed in the morning. For now, the three of you drift off into oblivion, basking in the serene comfort of each other's arms and warm bodies.

8K notes · View notes

carakook · 2 months

Text

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #smut #fiction #fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts smut #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #faceclaim

704 notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 3 months

Text

Red | KNJ | (m)

☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader

☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.

☾ Word Count: 21,148

☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Fantasy violence, light depections of murder and animal attacks, mentions of gore, discussions about community displacement and violence, Yoongi is an asshole, animal attacks, depictions of blood, tbh reader and Namjoon don’t know each other THAT well when they fuck so idk, implied protecting from a far but not in a stalker way, explicit language, intense sequences of fear and anxiety, reader is attacked by a wolf, there is a mention of animals being hurt/killed but not in explicit details, dead bodies, arson, sexually explicit content invluding vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, a little bit of mention of fluids but not really.

☾ Published: Sunday, January 21 2024

☾ A/N: I wish I could explain to you how this got to be so long. I wrote it over several weeks and each day I picked it back up, I just kept adding dialogue and scenery and setting. Like half of this isn’t even Namjoon and reader reacting - what was I doing? I wish I knew! I hope you like my spin on Red Riding Hood anyway! I tried to do this in a way that it doesn’t seem creepy that Namjoon was silently looking out for reader but like… I could understand if someone finds it creepy I am so sorry lmfao. I did read through this to edit but I 100% missed stuff because I'm a rougher editor and this is unbeta'd.

☾ A/N 2: This is a Red Riding Hood Retelling that is similar in vibe to the 2011 Red Riding Hood movie directed by Catherine Hardwicke.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Make Me Your Villain Collab | Taglist

Father always said not to go into the woods at night. Like him, though, the woods have always called to you, feeling like a second home. You’ve never been able to explain it, and you’ve stopped trying to.

It’s a little chilly outside, the first breath of harvest air nipping at your skin. In a few weeks, it will be freezing outside, forcing you into cloaks and furs.

Grass crunches beneath your feet as you slip through the small yard and toward the tree line. Your house already sits at the edge of the village, the dark trees stretching high above the rooftops. Soon the trees will be dusted in snow, but for now, they sway gently in the autumn breeze, turned silver by the moonlight.

You’ve always loved the woods. The sounds of the crickets singing and rabbits dashing underfoot are calming, the smell of sticky pine and fresh air invigorating. You especially love them at night, hidden beneath boughs and walking through the shafts of moonlight that slip through the trees.

The best part is that you don’t feel so alone out here. There is a feeling you cannot place each time you enter the woods, like you’re a little closer to discovering yourself. You’ve been chasing that feeling since you were a little girl, hungry for finding whatever it is that drives you out here.

Hands tucked into your pockets, you walk the same route you always follow. It isn’t deep into the woods - you aren’t silly enough to believe you’re safe alone in the dark - but it’s enough of a walk to clear your head.

Howls echo up into the night, a wolf pack on their hunt. The sound of them makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

The wolves don’t come very close to the village anymore since the vicious wolf hunts when you were barely old enough to remember them. The relationship between the men of your home and the wolves in the wood is violent, a chill cooling your skin every time they’re mentioned by one of your neighbors.

A terrible howl splits the night. You feel your body go cold with fear, warmth leaching out of you as you press yourself against a tree, heart in your throat. The sound is something like a howl laced with utter anguish, chilling you down to the marrow. It tapers off into a whimper before falling silent again.

Pressed against the tree, you wait. Your heart is beating so harshly that it feels like you might vomit in fear. Soft whimpering drifts on the wind. You hold your breath and strain your ears. It almost sounds like an injured dog.

It tugs at your heartstrings. You bite your lip, weighing your options. The noise sounded like it came from the south a little off of your path and toward the ravine that splits the part of the woods that is relatively safe from the deeper part where the animals are more lethal and more frequent. You could easily find your way back if you made it to the ravine, and as the whimpering vanishes entirely, you can’t help but imagine an animal in pain.

The most difficult part about working with Dr. Kim at the veterinary clinic is always the animals that he can’t fix. You’ve held the hands of loved ones who couldn’t save their aging dogs, and you’ve hushed lame horses as Dr. Kim prepared draughts to send them to sleep and then to death.

Pivoting, you turn and march toward the initial sound. It may perhaps be the single worst idea you’ve ever had, but you suddenly don’t care. You’ve worked with Dr. Kim enough to know how to triage animal wounds, and the thought of leaving something alone and suffering replaces any sort of fear you originally had.

You’re careful not to lose your footing as the ground slopes steadily as you get closer to the ravines and canyons of the south side. Leaves shift underneath your feet as you go. It feels overly loud in a forest that is suddenly so quiet, only filled with the softest sound of labored breathing.

A small dip in the ground catches you off guard. You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you lose your footing and slide down the slope, your back and ass hitting the ground hard as you slide, leaves hissing underneath you. You scramble to grab a hold of something, but the hill isn’t very high and you hit the bottom of it quickly.

Heart pounding, you lay in the damp leaves for a second, panting, hand pressed to your heart as it rattles under your palm. Just as the fear settles down, a growl makes your blood run cold. Slowly, you begin to turn your face toward the left. You realize you’ve slid down a dell, and a few yards from you is a large, shivering form covered in fur.

You blink. Once. Twice. You realize that the large mound of fur is a creature - a wolf. It lays on the ground shaking, a ride of jet black hair standing up on its spine, hackles raised. The wolf’s ears are pinned back and its yellow eyes are wild, nearly consumed by the dark pupils drinking you in. Its teeth are bared, foam and drool lining pink gums as it snares, nose twitching.

It’s the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen. You can’t move. You can only stare at it, wondering why it continues to snarl and stare at you, but not move. Your eyes rove its trembling form from maw to tail, and you realize its front leg is wet and held at an odd angle.

“Oh,” you gasp, realizing that the wolf’s foot is stuck in a claw trap. “I’m so sorry. I… can I help you?”

The wolf stops growling for a moment as if it understands. You stare with wide eyes, not daring to move as it assesses you. It leans toward you and sniffs, the sound of snuffing loud in the silence of the dell. For a few moments, you just watch as the beast regards you.

Then, it chuffs and looks at its own foot, whining. You sit up slowly in amazement. The creature watches you with what you can only describe as a caution. You get up carefully and make your way toward the wolf. It watches your every movement. It can surely smell your fear as you get a few feet away, crouching down with your hands held out to let it know you’re not going to cause harm.

You pause, waiting for permission to examine the wolf’s foot. It gazes at you and for a moment, you lose yourself in that burning, golden gaze. The wolf’s eyes are so human that it’s hard to see it as a simple beast. There is something alive and intelligent there.

As if sensing that you’re waiting for the all-clear, the wolf chuffs and lowers its head toward its foot, gesturing. You smile a little at that, marveling at the communication skills. Carefully, you look at the trap around the wolf’s foot. It’s a metal contraption that is pressure-engaged, with metal teeth. You cringe seeing the red on matted fur and metal.

“You must have stepped on the pressure plate,” you tell the wolf, though it probably doesn’t understand. You gesture to the round plate at the center of the trap. “It would have been in a circle and when stepped on, snapped closed like jaws.”

The wolf whines and bows its head. You wince. “They’re really strong,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I don’t think I can pull it apart all the way, but I might be able to open it enough just for a moment for you to pull out your leg. Can you do that?”

A huff. Somehow, you think if it could, the wolf might roll its eyes. Your mouth twitches in an almost smile as you get onto your knees, wiping sweaty hands on your pants. This close to the beast, you realize just how large it is.

“This is going to hurt,” you insist. “Please… Please don’t bite me, okay? I want to help you.”

The wolf lowers its head until it's lying on the ground, gold eyes watching you. Its muscles are tense and the hair along the ridge of its back is still standing, afraid and alert.

“Okay. I’m just… I’m just going to touch the trap and try to get a grip first, okay?” The wolf doesn’t answer. It blinks at you, waiting. Licking your lips, you whisper, more to yourself than anything, “Okay, I can do this.”

Slowly, you reach out toward the wolf’s injured foot. You flick your gaze over to the wolf looking for a reaction. It just watches you, though you feel tension. The metal is wicked cold to the touch. You hiss and the creature flinches a little, a whistle-whine escaping its nose. You mutter an apology, fingers pressing to the ridges of the cold metal.

It’s slippery with blood. You chew on your lip, prodding your finger in the space between the metal teeth on the edges where it’s not clamped around the wolf’s paw. You wiggle your finger a little, testing the strength of the closed jaws of the trap. It doesn’t budge and you curse.

Sweat beads on the back of your neck, freezing in the cool air. You lift your other hand, very carefully trying to find a good grip on either side of the jaws to pry them open. The movement jostles the trap a little, the wolf snarling in pain. You flinch and rip your hands away, looking at it. Gold eyes burn and the wolf huffs, as though telling you to be more careful.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “I’m nervous and it’s hard to get a grip on it.” The wolf snorts. You glare at it. “I’m sorry, do you want to do this instead?” Your only answer is a rumble as it looks the other direction. “That’s what I thought.”

Sighing, you turn your attention back to the metal. Anyone a little stronger and older could probably pull it open. Seokjin for sure could - even Hoseok who is as old as you are, but plenty stronger. You try not to think about how weak you are, and instead wiggle your fingers through the gaps in the teeth.

The cool metal stings your hands. It’s not a great grip and your fingers are placed in bad positioning due to the teeth of the trap. Taking in a big breath, you try to pull the metal jaws apart.

Nothing happens and you let your breath out, panting lightly as you stop trying to pull. The wolf flicks its tale but makes no other sound. With the way you’re gripping the jaws, you realize that pulling it apart is going to be difficult. It would rely on your forearms to peel the metal jaws backward… But if you were to push down and push apart, you could use your body weight as an extra boost. It would be pushing the jaws apart from above instead of trying to pry them apart with sheer strength.

Leaning high on your knees, you position yourself straight over the trap, your weight settling in on your forearms. You take another deep breath and this time when you pull, you push your weight down on the trap. For a second, it seems like it’s not going to give. You hiss through your teeth, muscles clenching, fingers burning as your skin presses against the metal as hard as you can stand it.

Then, the jaw opens a little. You grind your teeth harder, the ache in your arms growing as you push as hard as you can. Your forearms are trembling. You feel the vein throbbing in your neck and forehead. Just when you think you’re going to fail, the jaws give way again. You growl, feeling a surge of energy go through you at the small victory and you shove your body weight down on it hard. The springs creak a little and open more.

Little by little, the trap opens up. Your vision pulses red as you pant, strength waning. And then it’s like you hit the let-off point of the contraption, pushing it enough that the rest of the way it just falls open. You let go of the trap and the wolf yanks its leg from it. It now lies open and bloody as you collapse on the ground next to it, breathing hard, breath misting the air.

Your heart beats in your ears, pulse thrumming in your neck wildly. For a second, you forget all about the wolf. You laugh up to the dark trees, a giddy feeling shooting through you. You did it, even though you didn’t think you would be able to.

A dark presence alerts you. Slowly, you turn your head to face the wolf. It’s standing almost above you, looking more imposing than it did before. You swallow hard, mouth going dry as it blinks down at you. It favors the injured leg, but stands nonetheless, watching you.

“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper, limbs trembling not only with exhaustion but fear.

The wolf doesn’t kill you at all. Instead, it leans its head down and presses its cold, wet nose to your arm. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute. Then the beast chuffs, making you peak at it. When you meet its gold eyes, you get the sense it is vaguely amused.

“Oh,” you breathe, relief sagging your aching body. “Cool. You’re not going to kill me.”

Standing, you realize that the wolf is still taller than you. You tilt your head upward, staring. There’s no way this is a normal creature, but you don’t know what else it could possibly be. You recall the legends of werewolves and dire wolves told by the men of your town, but you’re unsure if those are real.

“Let’s take care of this,” you mutter, grabbing a branch and jamming it into the pressure plate of the trap. It snaps shut with a loud clang, snapping the branch, but otherwise ineffective now that it’s re-sprung. The wolf flinches and whines at the sound, no doubt remembering the feeling of the instrument on its leg. “Sorry.”

Silence stretches out over the woods, the night growing deeper and cooler. You shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you turn to the wolf, which watches you keenly.

“Will you be okay?” the question comes out as a whisper. The wolf huffs and steps forward, pressing its snout to your head. It’s cold and wet, making you shiver as it snuffs against your skin. “Good. I um - should start climbing this hill.”

It swivels its head and turns, waiting. You grin, realizing it will accompany you back up, at least. Though injured, the wolf is able to walk with three legs, the wounded leg lifted off the ground. Its gait is awkward and hobbled, but the two of you make it up the hill together, your breathing labored.

At the top, moonlight shines through the trees and you both pause. A series of howls goes up in the night, startling you. The wolf looks up, ears twitching as it tilts its head, listening. Slowly, it turns to look at you, gold eyes sparkling.

“I guess you have to go, huh?” it bows its head once. “Stay safe, okay?”

The wolf steps forward. Presses its muzzle into your temple and huffs, making you grin. You smell pine and bergamot, pleasant and calming. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Slowly, the wolf clambours off, vanishing into the dark woods, leaving you to hurry home yourself.

“Wear this at all times for protection, especially in the forest,” you murmur, holding the neatly scrawled note. You frown and look down at the fine cloak folded on the dresser. It had appeared overnight as if by magic, a funny feeling flipping your stomach. “Where did you come from?”

The cloak, of course, has no answer. You lift your hand to feel it, breathing out a dreamy sigh. The inside is lined with soft bear fur. Outside is some of the finest cloth you’ve ever seen, gentle but sturdy to the touch and dyed the most delicious shade of scarlet.

Carefully, you lift the cloak. It’s a little big for your size, but not unwearable. You slip it over your sleeping gown, loving the way the material ripples like blood over your shoulders, the fur lining keeping you warm. It smells like pine and bergamot, making you pause.

Certainly, a wolf did not bring you a cloak. Still, the timing is quite odd. You don’t know who else could possibly make a cloak so fine in the village, and the smell… you shake your head. A wolf did not bring you a cloak, but it did seem perhaps you had a secret admirer.

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

“Boo!” You scream and drop the collection of logs in your hands, whirling around. Hoseok bursts into laughter, doubling over as he slaps his hands against his knees, hot breath misting the air. “You should see your face!”

“You rotten bastard!” You growl, picking up a log and throwing it at him. It doesn’t hit him, but he jumps away from it anyway, careful not to let it drop on his toes. “That isn’t funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It’s not!” You crouch down and start picking up the timber. Hoseok at least has the decency to help you, starting with the log you threw at him. “There was another animal attack last night, in case you didn’t know.”

That makes him pause. “There was?”

“Yes,” you hiss, snatching the last log and standing. “So stop lurking around corners and scaring me. It isn’t funny.”

“Well, an animal isn’t going to attack you in the village. Unless you’re talking about Mingyu’s fiancee, anyway. That one is feral indeed.”

You level Hoseok with a look and he gives you a grin. His nose and ears are red from the cold - and maybe a little guilt for scaring you - and he offers to take the timber from your arms. You let him, shoveling it over to him and marching around the front of your house.

Wind howls between the houses, ripping at the ends of your red cloak. It catches your hood, throwing it up over your head as you shiver and tuck your hands into the fur lining. A shiver rattles up your spine as you kick the snow from your boots and rush inside, Hoseok quick on your heels.

“So what happened?” Hoseok asks, following you to your room.

“The Matheson Family,” you mumble. “They were attacked. San went down to collect new saddles his father ordered and found them slaughtered - their hounds too.”

“They have hunting hounds - what the hell can kill those?”

“Perhaps it’s the wolves again. Dr. Kim was going with the city council to investigate.”

Hoseok sighs. “The timing isn’t good. It’s about time the traders arrived. What if they bypass us entirely if the road is too dangerous?”

It’s a thought that has been plaguing everyone in the village. Because of the remote location on the north side of the woods, your small spec on the map relies on traders at the beginning of every winter for things that you’ll need to make it through: salt, extra grain and fruits, tools too advanced and large for the local smithy, repairs on houses and wagons.

Arrival times of traders fluctuate every year. Sometimes there’s a cold snap, burying roads in heavy snow that are unnavigable. Other times, there is unrest in the woods when a rogue band of thieves gets the idea to rob travelers and hide in the woods until the city council sends a team of men to deal with it.

Now, though, it’s getting into the late period of their arrival. The entire village holds its breath waiting for them, people looking out the open gates down the snowy road hoping to see a courier come ahead to announce the arrival of wagons and troupes of people.

“Do you really think it’s wolves?” Hoseok asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of wolf attacks like this since…”

Hoseok winces. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “It’s not like I remember that time, much less remember my dad.”

It’s true. Early memories of your childhood are murky at best. You remember being happy and loving your dad. You remember a period of fear and general uneasiness in the town, wolf attacks rampant and frequent. There had been plenty of men and women who died during that period, including your father.

That was a long time ago, though. For the most part, life in your small village is uninteresting. Some winters are harder than others, like the current season, but you’ve always managed to get by.

“Do you remember much of that time period?” you ask him quietly.

“Not really. Just that everyone was afraid. It was a really harsh winter and it drove wolves down from the mountains. I remember it being strange.”

“Strange how?”

You chew your lip and shake your head, trying to encapsulate the thread of memory you have. Of feeling the tremor of fear in the air, the cold feeling of dread… like something violent was in the village. Something wrong.

“I don’t know. I was so young.”

“Hmm.”

The talk of wolves makes you think about your wolf. Your lips curve at the memory of how gentle the wolf was, the somber eyes, and the smell of pine and bergamot.

It would be a lie to say you had not gone out to the woods several times since that night to try and find the beast again. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve always had a feeling he’s there somewhere. Watching. Waiting.

“Either way,” Hoseok sighs. “Dad seems worried this winter will be like that time. He’s been doing a lot of will and testament papers at the office. He works late every night and is gone early in the morning.”

“Really?”

“Want to hear what Mr. Hillshire is leaving for his kids?” Hoseok leans forward, conspiratorial. “You won’t believe it.”

The bell over the door rings as someone enters the salon of Dr. Kim’s veterinary practice, drawing your attention. You straighten when you see San walk in.

“Hi, San,” you greet. “Here to pick up Maple?”

“Yeah, is that alright? Mom is busy at the shop.”

“Of course.” You wipe your sweaty hands on your skirts and gesture behind you with your thumb. “I’ll go fetch her. Dr. Kim is on an errand but she’s ready to go.”

The back of the building with the kennels is quiet. The Choi family cat and two other sleeping dogs are the only occupants of the practice, making it an easy day. Maple is dozing in her kennel, chirping in protest when you open the cage and scoop her into a carrier. She’s a lazy thing, a calico with pretty eyes and a newly stitched ear.

Carefully you carry her up front. San is standing patiently in the lobby, hands behind his back as he looks around nervously. You raise your brows as you come around the counter, handing over the carrier. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm?”

“You look nervous. It’s just me and the Lowells’ hounds back here.”

“Oh, yes.” His ears blush pink as he accepts the carrier and steps back. “Just a nervous energy in general. I have been since um…”

Oh. You had forgotten that it was San who discovered the Matheson family disemboweled by some kind of animal. The constable had thought that maybe it was a pack of wolves but was concerned by how big the claw marks and destruction were.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

“For what?”

“That you had to see that, I guess? It must have been terrifying.”

“A little,” he admits, looking at his shoes. “I walked the path to the Mathesons all the time. I don’t ever recall seeing something that could… do that.”

“Was it that awful?”

He nods. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I go on hunting parties. We’ve seen the leftovers from bears and wolves. This was something worse. It felt like…” He shakes his head and looks up at you. “It felt angry.”

“Angry?”

“Yeah. I know that doesn’t make sense. It was probably just a beast coming down from the mountain because it was starving. You know how harsh winters are.”

You hum in agreement.

San dismisses himself, thanking you again for helping with the family cat and throwing a wave over his shoulder. You return it half-heartedly, already distracted with thoughts of what the animal attacks could mean.

You think about your wolf and how kind and intelligent it was. You don’t remember ever feeling a sense of impending doom like you do now, a heaviness to the air as you stand idly behind the counter.

Dr. Kim's return startles you at the counter. You press your hands flat against the top of the desk, leaning up on your tiptoes as you see his son Seokjin enter behind him. Your heart flutters a little at the sight, still overwhelmed by his handsome face.

Seokjin is tall and broad, with dark hair and a beautiful face. His sharp eyes find you and he gives you a half smile, though there seems to be something on his mind as he follows his father into the backroom, Dr. Kim barely saying hello as he goes, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The two of them disappear and you watch the door swing shut behind them. Curious, you trail around the counter and softly walk over to the door, pulling it open a smidge.

It’s difficult to pick up on their words, but you can hear Dr. Kim’s timbre speaking in low tones from somewhere in the backroom. You hold your breath and wedge the door open a little more, pressing your ear toward the gap between the frame and the door.

“... again. They’re going to want to start hunting parties again soon.”

“So what do we do?”

Silence. Then, “Send a message….”

“... brought it on themselves… it’s time to make things right.”

Behind you, the bell rings at the door. You gasp, letting go of the door to the back room and spin around, heart hammering in your chest. Hoseok stands at the door, raising his brows in question.

“What are you doing here?” you demand, suddenly angry that he’s startled you and ruined your sleuthing.

“I promised your mom I would walk home with you at the end of your shift, remember? Dangerous out there.”

You blink and look out the window, realizing that the heavy gray of evening is setting over the road. You hadn’t realized it was so late.

Nodding, you grab your cloak in a hurry. You pop your head into the back room, both Seokjin and Dr. Kim looking at you as you do. “I’m leaving for the evening, sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you for watching the place while I was gone. Tomorrow we have to make a house call to the Marrow farm. Lame horse.”

Seokjin frowns. “Do you think that is wise?” Dr. Kim looks at his son under heavy brows. “With the current conditions.”

“We’ll be fine.” Something passes between them, son and father locked in a heated gaze. You stand there awkwardly, glancing between the two.

Seokjin breaks his stare from his father and flashes you a grin. “You have someone to walk you home?”

“Yeah, Hoseok is here.” You hug the cloak tighter to your chest and Seokjin’s eyes drop to it. An unreadable expression passes his face before he nods. “Have a good evening!”

“You too.”

Leaving them behind, you head to where Hoseok waits for you, examining drawings of animal skeletons and anatomy. You pull your cloak on, feeling safe and warm under the red material. Hoseok looks up at you, thrusting his thumb at one of the drawings of a horse. “I don’t look like that, right?”

The red cloak tied around you wicks the sweat from the back of your neck. Your fingers work quickly as you tie it, knowing you’re already late to meeting Dr. Kim. Thankfully, you don’t make a habit of being late and you’re sure he won’t mind too much.

Strange dreams had plagued you all night. Images of wolves, blood and mist. Echoes of howling, screaming and thunder. Now as you hurry out of your home and into the wicked wind of winter, you cannot shake a sense of premonition.

Dr. Kim is already on the doorstep when you arrive at the veterinary office, a heavy coat on his shoulders and a bag of tools in his hand. He nods when he sees you and comes down the steps, turning toward the south exit of the village.

Neither of you speak. Beyond the fact that you don’t think you’d be able to hear Dr. Kim over the howling wind, it doesn’t feel like the kind of trip that requires speaking. The evergreens on either side of the road loom over you, bows heavy with snow. Every so often, a branch cracks with the weight of frozen icicles, making you flinch with the sound.

It feels like you’re being watched. Every so often, you swivel your head this way and that, glancing at the trees. The trunks are too close together and the branches to tangle to see beyond them on either side of the road. Still, your skin tingles from something beyond the cold, you just don’t know what.

The Marrow farm is only a little over a mile from the main village, but the snow covered roads make it slow going. As you near the edge of where their acres begin, your boots are already heavy with melted slush and your calves and thighs burn from dragging your feet through the path.

Perhaps it was not a good day to do a house call.

Passing white-covered gates, you’re thankful that at least the wind has died down as the morning turns into midday. The sun is hidden by clouds, but there is a hint of warmth in the air. The Marrow farm is made up of three buildings: the small house in front, the large barn to the back left where they keep their animals, and a giant silo for grains.

As you near the house, a loud banging reaches you. Both you and Dr. Kim pause, listening as the sound carries on the wind. It doesn’t sound like hammering, but rather like a door slamming over and over again.

“Barn door?” you suggest, looking up at Dr. Kim. His dark eyes look at the house, expression grim. “But why would they let it slam relentlessly?”

“Keep your wits about you,” he murmurs, ignoring your question. “Go to the main house. I’ll go round to the barn. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the appointment.”

No smoke comes from the chimney. No snow is cleared from the footpath to the door. The shutters are closed, which makes sense to keep the cold out. As you approach the steps leading up to the porch, you note that none of the hounds are baying. The Marrow’s have several bloodhounds, all of which keep noisy providence around the threshold of the door.

Spine tingling, you lift your hand and knock. There’s no answer. You strain your ears, leaning forward for any hint that the Marrow’s or one of their two sons are coming to the door. Not even the dogs alert them of your presence.

You think about San finding the Mathesons butchered and your stomach drops. You knock again, knuckles stinging with cold as they rap harshly against the wooden door. Tucking your hand back into your cloak, you wait.

Nothing comes.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door and twist the handle. It opens easily, swinging inward to a cold, empty home. Inside, the air is still and dead. Behind you, the breeze brushes the edges of your cloak and the hood on your head.

Silence hangs. Licking your lips, you lift a foot. It hands over the threshold, fear making you pause. There is nothing inside the home, and yet you find that you’re utterly terrified of stepping inside. Your stomach knots and for a few moments, you just stand there with your foot in the air, staring with unseeing eyes into the dark interior.

You step into the room and pause. Nothing happens. The air inside the home is stale, like the doors and windows have not been opened for a few days. The cold is bone deep, clinging to the undisturbed air. You scan the room for any sign of life, but see nothing that stirs.

Everything looks lived in. There are knitted blankets tossed across the backs of old arm chairs, boots by the door, unlaced and soft with age. Mugs have been turned upside down and placed on a towel near the basin for drying, and there are dice on the kitchen table.

Navigating slowly, you move to the hall with bedrooms. Doors hang open, revealing unmade beds and clothes on the floor. Here too, the air feels undisturbed. You hear the breeze outside and the soft creak of the house, but nothing else makes a sound, save for the loud beating of your own heart.

Shivering, you make your way to the front of the home. Something foul hangs in the air and you want to be rid of the feeling, quickening your steps to leave through the front door and-

Fear stabs deep into your stomach when you see the wolf standing in the doorway. It stands half in the home, half out, only the front two paws over the threshold. The beast barely fits in the door frame, wide as two men standing side by side and tall as a horse.

You don’t move. It stares at you with bright, burning eyes. Its fur is dark, though there is a jagged ring of light fur around the right, front paw. You swear you smell pine and bergamot. Something nudges at the back of your mind as the two of you stand off - and it clicks into place.

“You,” you breathe. “You’re the wolf I helped!”

For a moment, the bright yellow eyes stare at you. They’re unreadable, and yet… emotive. Intelligent. Understanding. The wolf dips its snout in a nod.

“What are you doing here? Where are the Marrows?”

The wolf’s ears flicker. Slowly, it backs out of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, you rush after him, nearly tripping over a wolfskin rug in the home.

Outside, the wolf stands below the porch. You step on the porch and pull up short, heart racing as you see the pack of wolves standing in front of the home.

The wolves are a variety of colors and sizes. You dare not move your head, but you scan them with your eyes, drinking in the different creatures. The only thing that they have in common is that they are freakishly large.

Your wolf - for in your mind he’s yours - stands in front of you. He growls, hair on his spine raising as he regards the other wolves. There’s a silent standoff of sorts, the wolf you saved facing the others. You cannot understand their body language, but the air seems charged.

The smell of smoke is in the air. You don’t dare look for the source, too afraid to do anything to disrupt the standoff. Breathing in deeply, you think you smell cedar. Oil. Something else that you can’t identify.

Footsteps crunch the snow. You whip your head to the side, a warning on your tongue as Dr. Kim rounds the house, a haunted expression on his face. He stops abruptly, looking at the display in front of him behind frosted glasses. He says nothing - does nothing but glance between you, the wolf in front of you, and the others.

Finally, one of the other wolves chuffs and shakes, dispelling snow. It has an all white coat and intense, dark eyes that look at you with… annoyance, if wolves can look annoyed. It turns to leave and the others follow - all five of them - as the white wolf leads them at a loping trot toward the silo and the woods beyond.

Your wolf turns to peer at you, ears flicking before it breaks off into a run, trailing after its pack to leave you and Dr. Kim standing in silence, watching them go.

Slowly, you turn to Dr. Kim. He scrutinizes you, eyes squinted. “Where did you get that cloak?”

You look down at the rich, red cloth. “I… well it just appeared, one day when I was younger. I don’t know.”

He regards you suspiciously. “I see. Come. We must leave right away.”

Dr. Kim begins walking at a fast pace back toward town, clutching his tool case. “Wait! Where are the Morrows?”

Instead of answering, Dr. Kim continues on. You scramble after him, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. The wind picks up and you smell a fire again, making you turn back as you try to catch up. You almost stumble over your feet, eyebrows shooting up as you see orange flames consuming the barn.

“Dr. Kim!”

Again, he says nothing. You stop and stare, watching as the fire eats away at the barn. The smoke burns black. Fueled by oil, you think. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Dr. Kim’s retreating back and wonder what exactly it is that he’s done.

“Did you set that fire?” you demand, chasing him. He gives you a withering look. “What is going on?”

“Speak nothing of this,” he snaps. “We arrived here to make a housecall and discovered that the barn was on fire. We suspect that Mr. Marrow was burning to melt the snow around the barn and that the barn caught. The Marrow family died inside trying to put out the fire.”

“But the wolves-”

“Do not mention the wolves, girl.”

“Did they kill the Marrows?” His jaw works but he doesn’t answer. “Did they kill the Mathesons?”

“This village has a complicated history,” he says finally. He pulls his coat tighter. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to stay out of it. Say nothing of the wolves and stay away from them. You’ll make it through winter.”

Two weeks pass, the secret heavy on your tongue. You work with Dr. Kim as though nothing happened, and when people ask about the Marrow farm, you recite vague details. You don’t know why you do it but… the image of the wolf - your wolf - floats in your mind each time you spit out the lie.

Thoughts plague you as Hoseok lounges on the porch of the office that belongs to Hoseok’s father, who acts as the town’s scribe and legal affairs recorder. A sudden warm day has brought everyone outdoors, lounging on their porches and trying to take advantage of the melting snow around the buildings. The streets are muddy and murky as kids run by, feet splashing.

A group of men prowl around the outskirts of the village. Sun shines through the slats of the overhang in front of the inn, warming where you lean on the porch railing. Hoseok rattles on about gossip he’s heard from his mother’s tea parties and his father’s work on will and testaments with the growing fear of death in the village.

“Plagues, serial killings, blood feuds and animal attacks,” Hoseok sighs, staring up at the ceiling where he lies. “Good for father’s business. Bad for my cramping hand trying to help him.”

“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally, thoughts lost as you stare out into the street with unseeing eyes.

Shouts make you flinch. You stand rod straight, gripping the railing as you look for the source of the disruption. Hoseok stands up immediately, joining you at the railing as the pair of you lean to look toward the entrance to the town.

At first, you think that it’s about another wolf attack. People rush into the street, looking toward the commotion. Then you see it. Gleeful cheers spring up to the buildings closest to the town’s entrance as the first few traders enter the road. Your heart soars when you see donkeys pulling a cart behind them, followed by more people carrying packs and towing small carts.

“The traders!” You breathe, feeling a sigh of relief sweep through you. “They’ve made it!”

Excitement ripples through the village. People come flocking from the buildings to welcome cart after cart full of people. Some traders tow full carriages with riders at the front, the shutters on their carriages tied shut, hiding their wares inside.

Hoseok lounges back down, letting out a sigh of relief. You feel the same, leaning on the railing again to watch as the carts are towed down the road, pulling down different streets to set up shop and find accommodations.

Most of the traders look vaguely familiar to you - you see the Robin’s with their cloth cart and Morty with his towering carriage of unusual wares and charms. The Yang twins set off small, popping fireworks from the back of their cart, making the children squeal.

Something catches your eye. “There are more traders than usual,” you tell Hoseok, frowning as your eyes settle on the large men who walk among the carts, all of whom wear weapons belts and look from side to side as they walk. “I think they’re warriors, Hoseok.”

“Warriors?” he laughs. “Strange.”

“No really, there are several men with blades at the hip and bows on the back. They look… guarded.”

He tilts his head, eyeing where your eyes flit from person to person. “Perhaps the road is as hard as we suspected this year.”

You hum in agreement, watching as the caravans stop and unload, the muddy streets filling with people and chatter and bubbling with excitement. It feels like the bubble of anxiety looming over the town has popped - at least temporarily - relieving the pressure that had been building with every passing day.

Leaning against the rail, you’re content to observe. All manner of people and things are pulled from carts. Vendors start setting up right away, people forming lines for ingredients, cloth, and wares. The largest line of all is for weapons and metal tools, Old Man Heo barely has time to park his cart before the men of the village ask how much for iron arrowheads and blades.

A shiver goes through you as your eyes sweep back toward the town entrance where more people pour in. Fewer caravans come through - now it’s just people with pack mules or bags over their shoulders.

The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders.

As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the rail as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine.

He stares at you in turn. You’re sure he’s looking at you, paused near the cart he stands next to, dark gaze focused on where you stand on the porch.

You’ve never seen him. You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose, and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.

He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. Like the other hardy men accompanying traders, he has a weapons belt snug around his waist and the bulk of his frame implies that he knows how to use them.

The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok sits up abruptly, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one.

“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere.

“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple.

“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.”

“Want to visit the vendors later when they’re all set up? I would love to get some spiced wine and listen to Marla’s stories tonight.”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “Let’s do just that.”

Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity. Incurable energy simmers under the surface as you wait for the day to fade to evening. You clean the entire house, you collect wood from outside, you dress and then change into something else, and you ultimately end up pacing back and forth in your room while you wait for Hoseok to arrive.

Your thoughts are consumed by the mystery man you had seen earlier. His handsome face swims in your memory. The clear image of his face is accompanied by some feeling you cannot identify, something that almost feels like nostalgia. How can you feel nostalgia for someone you don’t know?

Hoseok finally arrives, letting himself into your house cheerily. The brief respite from winter is already bleeding away, the wind carrying a painful promise as it lifts your hood outside. The traders, it seems, arrived at the perfect time, the cloudy sky promising snow in the morning once more.

Energy sizzles in the air. It’s as though the momentary fear of the wolf attacks is momentarily forgotten with the arrival of the vendors and travelers. The noise echoes from every street, torches, and fires lighting up the alleyways and down as people hang lamps in the windows and carts string up tea lights.

Though you’re nervous, you are temporarily distracted as Hoseok pulls you through a tangle of carts toward Sal’s Sweets. Your stomach grumbles when you catch the scent of melting sugar and sweet confections, joining the line at Hoseok’s side to pick up hot, sticky sweets.

With hot, sweet rolls drizzled in honey in hand, you and Hoseok explore the vendor carts. It is an explosion of color and lights, glittering jewelry hanging from displays, hot meats sizzling in pants over fires, the flash of powder and light as the Yang twins set off more fireworks, and the smell of spices as you pass by herb carts and tents.

Everywhere you go, you see the men from before, looming near carts with weapons and steely expressions. But not even the eerie sight of them can bring down the spirits of the villagers, kids running with new kites and jars full of fireflies.

As you stand in line with Hoseok who wants new inkwells, you listen to passing chatter. From what you gather, it was a hard trip this way on the caravans this year. The winter was just as harsh on the road as it was in the village, and the traders' voices become quiet when they talk about thieves and monsters in the woods.

You exchange a glance with Hoseok and he nods. Wolves.

Wordlessly, you wait as Hoseok points out the inks that he wants. You begin to crane your neck, looking for the familiar stranger that you had seen before. The square is crowded and packed tight with people, making it nearly impossible to make out much beyond a few feet in front of you.

You spot Dr. Kim walking next to Seokjin, both of their heads bowed as they speak to one another. You narrow your eyes, remembering the way Dr. Kim had silenced you at the Marrow farm. You watch them as they head toward the road that the veterinary practice is on, pausing as a man pushes off the wall to join them.

It’s him you realize. You recognize the broad shoulders and the dark hair as he turns his back to you, walking with the Kims down the road. You don’t even have to think twice.

“Hey,” you tug Hoseok’s sleeve. “I’m going to go see Dr. Kim about something really quick. I’ll meet you at the inn?”

“Sure.” He frowns. “Is it safe to go alone?”

“With all of these people?” You’re already backing away and shrugging. “Definitely.”

Without waiting for Hoseok to respond, you turn on your heel and rush into the crowd. The bodies of people immediately swallow you. The sound and sights and smells become a blur as you push through the crowd, shouldering people aside. You get some nasty looks from the force at which you move, but they immediately forget you as more people press in.

Less people pass you by as you walk up the street, pulling your cloak in tight. The lights in front of the building are off. You creep up the stairs and try the handle, finding it locked. It doesn’t matter, you sneak around the back of the building to the rear entrance and press your ear to the door. When you hear nothing, you try the handle and it twists.

Victorious, you open the door and slide through. The hallway is narrow with four doors on the right leading to examination rooms and two doors on the left. The first door leads to the kennel area where you hear voices. The second leads to the front lobby and desk.

The front lobby is the safest option, lest you get caught eavesdropping in the hallway when they leave. Carefully, you creep by the door, holding your breath and praying the floor doesn’t creak. Your heart pounds as you inch past the door, hearing deep voices on the other side as you go by.

Clearing the door, you hurry into the lobby and to the door behind the desk that leads to the kennels. Crouching down low to hide yourself from anyone walking by the windows, you carefully pull the door open, unwilling to open it any further than the width of your index finger. Pressing your ear to the open gap, you listen.

“We talked about discretion,” Dr. Kim says, his voice frustrated. “This isn’t discretion. This is harassment and fear-mongering.”

“I told you,” a deep, smooth voice answers. You assume it must belong to the stranger and you shiver, eyes fluttering as the sound of it washes over you. “It isn’t my decision to make. I do not lead. Yoongi made it very clear how he wishes to proceed.”

“Yoongi is a lunatic.”

“He’s the alpha.”

You frown. Alpha? You’re familiar with the concept of alphas in packs of dogs and herding animals, but you don’t know what that has to do with people or who Yoongi is.

“The hunts will begin tomorrow.”

You think Dr. Kim means the hunting for the wolves. It makes sense now that the traders are in town and they can stock up on weapons.

“As is the way of things,” the stranger answers with a sigh. “You know why Yoongi has chosen this path.”

“Is revenge worth it?”

“Perhaps your kind do not understand.” The stranger’s voice hardens. You wonder what he means by your kind. “You have one foot in the forest, one in the village.”

“We understand, but we’re also not reckless.” Charged quiet hangs in the air. You hold your breath, your heart thundering in your chest, waiting for the sound of footsteps at the end of a conversation. “Why are you here, Namjoon? You came alone.”

Namjoon. The name washes over you, a warm feeling like the first spray of summer rain. It must be the stranger's name.

Namjoon answers, “There is… a protected here. But I still fear for them. Yoongi and the others are angry - I wish to further keep them from harm.”

A frown twists your mouth. This Namjoon is here to protect someone from Yoongi. You wonder what this has to do with Dr. Kim. Could… Perhaps someone is using the wolves as tools? You’ve certainly seen a hunter train wolves or wolfhounds before, though it’s a dangerous business.

Dr. Kim sighs. “That is the only saving grace of you being here, I’m afraid. Seokjin and I cannot help you. Not without exposing ourselves. I’ve already done what I can.”

“You have my greatest thanks for that. You and yours will always be safe. And not just because of your blood.”

Shuffling makes you lean away from the door immediately. You slowly drop it back in place before crawling over to the desk and hiding under it, straining your hearing as the footsteps go into the back hall and out of the back door. You remain there long after you hear the back door shut, waiting just in case they’re still outside.

When you’re sure they’ve gone, you crawl out from underneath the desk and hurry into the hall and out the back door. The alley is empty when you stick your head out, sagging with relief. You hurry out and close the door behind you, spinning around and-

“You know, most people who don’t want to be seen don’t sneak around in a red cloak.”

The man - Namjoon - looms over you, looking down at you with an amused expression. Your scream is cut off when he winces and cups your mouth with his hand. “Well don’t scream! You’ll summon Giho and Seokjin back this way. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Namjoon waits for a moment, your chest heaving as you nod, signifying that you won’t scream for help. Maybe it’s silly, but you trust him not to hurt you. At the least, he is there to protect someone in the village, so he doesn’t seem like he’s there for nefarious reasons.

When he drops his hands, you press yourself against the door, trying to put a little distance between you. Namjoon’s presence is demanding, a tickle prickling at the base of your spine as you look up at him, mystified.

He’s so beautiful. Up close, you can make out his features far better than earlier that day. His eyes are dark and framed by beautiful, silken lashes. His nose is broad and his jaw is sharp. A dimple appears when he gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sizing you up.

The same sense of familiarity from earlier comes back to you, and though you’ve never seen his face before, you swear you know him. Warmth radiates from him, the delicate smell of pine and bergamot reaching you. He feels like… yours. Like some part of him completes you. It is the strangest feeling.

“You okay, Red?” he asks, tone earnest. You furrow your brows at the term and he grins - genuine and warm. “Your cloak. It’s a very bright red. Pretty, though.”

“Thank you?”

He raises a brow. “Are you asking me?”

“I’m… you’re awfully close.”

Namjoon takes a few steps back from you. You suddenly regret saying something as his warmth vanishes, replaced by the cool wind. “Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Why didn’t you alert Dr. Kim if you knew I was snooping.”

“You don’t seem to be a threat. Plus, he’s a bit of a grouch. It didn’t seem worth it to hear him chastise a pretty girl.”

You flush. “How do you know the Kims?”

“Family friends.”

“What were you all talking about?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Just because I’m not chastising you for listening to our private conversation doesn’t mean I’m going to divulge the details of said private conversation.”

You divert your gaze, feeling flushed. He has a point, but if he’s put out by your line of questioning or your eavesdropping, he doesn’t show it. “Come on,” Namjoon says. “Let’s go back to the square. I need a drink and it’s dangerous to walk around right now.”

“Because of the wolves?”

He stares at you. “Because it’s dark and there are a bunch of strangers in your town, and you’re a woman alone. In the dark.”

“You’re a stranger in my town.”

His grin spreads and his dimple deepens. Your stomach flutters. You’re not unaffected by him, a little dizzy and nervous when he sticks out a hand. “Namjoon. I’m a part of the Kim family.”

“Like… Dr. Kim?” you ask, reaching out your hand and giving him your name.

“We’re related, in a way. Pretty name. I think I’ll stick with Red, though.”

Namjoon takes off walking. For a second, you just stand and stare at him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t look back. You lick your lips, heart pounding. You cannot shake the sense of something peculiar about him, something familiar. He’s a Kim - perhaps you know him.

Determined to find out, you take off after him, scurrying to catch up. You fall into step with him and look up to find him smirking down at you before focusing back on the growing noise and lights of the main square.

“Have you been here before?” you ask, watching him from the corner of your eye. He shakes his head and you frown. “I feel like I know you.”

“Perhaps I have one of those faces?”

“No, I’d remember a face like yours.”

Namjoon turns to you, arching a brow. “A face like mine, huh?”

Multiple fire pits dot the streets, groups of people clustered around them to keep warm as the chill seeps back into the village. The inn is bustling with people, the door propped open with a chair as people walk in and out with platters of food and tankards in hand. Multiple villagers have pulled out tables and chairs from their homes, setting them up in the street.

It feels good. The air hums with euphoria and the promise of better days ahead, like suddenly there are not several families mourning their loved ones. The atmosphere reminds you of a festival, and you suppose it kind of is a festival.

The smell of burning fat and ale hits your nose as you walk into the inn. Voices roar over one another and the workers are busy behind the bar. A fireplace crackles in the far corner where you spot Hoseok guarding an extra chair.

“I fear this is where we part ways,” Namjoon announces over the din of voices. “Try not to do any more eavesdropping tonight.” You hesitate, wanting to protest. There are a million burning questions you have for him. He must see it in your face, because he smiles and says, “We’ll run into one another again. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

You were actually, and you know he knows by his smirk. “Goodnight, Red.”

You watch Namjoon go. He moves toward where the innkeeper stands at a podium looking over reservations, blending into the crowd. Just before he reaches the podium he glances over his shoulder at you, catching you watching. He shoots you a grin and you scowl, pivoting on your heel to charge toward Hoseok.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows when he sees you storm over to him and yank the chair out from the table, sitting down in a huff. Without a word, you snatch his tankard of ale and take several, cold gulps before setting it on the table, letting it wash through you.

“Who was that you came in with? And then stormed over here after speaking to?”

“Some relative of the Kims,” you mutter. “I find him very… frustrating.”

“He’s very handsome.”

You glare at Hoseok and see the beginning of a wicked smile. “And frustrating.”

He lifts his cup, shrugging. “Cheers to being frustrating.”

A scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You lurch up from bed, head spinning as you try to gather your wits about you. Blankets tangle your limbs as you try to peel them from sweaty skin. Another scream makes you stumble out of bed, the world tilting on its axis as your body tries to catch up with your sudden lucidity.

In the main room of your home, your mother is stumbling through the kitchen too, lighting a candle and grabbing a holder. You feel relief as you realize the screaming isn’t coming from your home, but your neighbor’s.

Together, you and your mother rush out into the cold in nightgowns, not bothering with shoes or coats. The cold is bitter, immediately stinging your skin as the Liang family joins you in running to the Hutch family home where it sounds like Mrs. Hutch is screaming like a wild animal in her house.

“It’s Leanne,” your mother breathes, words turning to steam in the air.

“Come on,” you urge, pulling your mother as you go, driven by the shrieks.

The front door hangs open as Mr. Liang enters the home first, an ax in hand. It occurs to you that neither you nor your mother have weapons, but Mrs. Hutch has always been kind to your mother, making the both of you charge into the darkness of her home empty-handed.

A metallic tang hits you immediately. You recoil, recognizing the stench of blood immediately. Villagers spill into the home behind you, alerted to the wailing coming from the bedroom. With torches and candles in hand, you spot the red on the dark wood floor in the hallway.

Mr. Liang stands in the doorway of the bedroom, staring with a haunted gaze at what he sees there. Your mother pushes through the people in the home to look over his shoulder, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps.

“Oh Leanne,” she murmurs in horror, shoving by Mr. Liang.

You don’t go to the room. The smell and the weeping coming from the bedroom give you an inkling of what lay inside. You stand in the living room as people fill the hall, gasping and murmuring. Someone shouts to wake the constable.

“Why?” Mrs. Hutch screams in her room, the despair in her voice rattling your bones. “Why?”

“His throat has been cut,” someone murmurs from the hall. “Murdered in bed.”

Murdered? That throws you for a loop. You had assumed somehow it was an animal attack but… you shiver. Murder is different.

Mr. Liang begins shooing people out of the house. You slink out into the cold and hurry to your own home, bare feet freezing in the cold, wet earth. Your mother stays with Mrs. Hutch, leaving you alone.

The dark presses in on you, every creak of a floorboard making you jump. The shadows seem menacing now and you’re quick to find and light a candle, orange light flooding the home.

Cloth and candle in hand, you return to your room to wipe the cold mud from your feet, skin still burning from the frigid air. Voices carry in from outside, the entire town waking and gathering as the shock of murder ripples through the streets, a stone in a pond.

With sleep nowhere near possible for the remainder of the night, you get dressed. You pull on thick woolen pants, a tunic, and multiple socks, sticking your feet in your boots. Your cloak goes next, fastening it around your throat as you look out your bedroom window.

Your home sits at an angle in a row of houses that circle the village like a ring. You can see the wall of the home next to you, and a sliver of the backyard as well. It’s that tiny space in the backyard that catches your eye, watching as someone moves from the edge of the home out of sight.

Heart in your throat, you grab a candle and run outside. The crowd in front of the Hutch’s has grown, but you ignore them, skirting around your house to the alleyway between you and your neighbor. Nothing catches your eye as you run to the backyard, swiveling as you search in the darkness for the shadow you saw.

The wind howls, drowning out the voices in the street. The treeline behind the houses is dark. You squint your eyes and lift the candle in your hand, the flame barely flickering as the wind makes the trees sway. There is nothing in the darkness and you begin to turn when you see a shadow in the tree line.

It’s barely there - perhaps a trick of the light, even. You take a step forward, boots crunching in the snow. A gust of wind makes your cloak snap at your ankles, candle going out and leaving you without a source of light. You had not realized how dark it was without it, the shadow vanishing from your line of sight.

Fear nestles in the pit of your stomach. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as your limbs lock, realizing how stupid it was to come outside if there was a killer among the trees. Soft snow crunches somewhere close to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, tucking your chin to your chest as panic makes you shut down, unable to move and-

“Red.”

Namjoon’s voice makes you spin around. He holds a torch level with his head, the flame casting an eerie glow on his face. For a moment, he looks lupine and terrifying, your heart nearly stuttering to a halt.

Then his face twists in concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Dr. Kim sent me over to check on you. No one answered the door so I came around back.”

“Why?”

Namjoon seems confused. “Why did I come around back or why did he send me?”

“Both.”

“I could see the light of your candle and because a murder has just happened.”

You relax a little at the logic in his answer. Snow begins to fall from the sky. You look up at the moonless black, thick clouds floating as the bits of snow drift on the breeze. You shiver and look back to the trees, seeing nothing but tightly packed pines. Still, there is an instinctual sense of trepidation that sits heavy in your gut.

“Come on,” Namjoon says gently. “Let’s go inside. I’ll wait with you until your mother comes home.”

Reluctantly, you follow Namjoon. Eyeing him, you realize he is dressed differently than previously that night. Now, he’s in black breeches and a black linen shirt. The weapons belt is gone and he’s without a coat.

You frown. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“I run warm.”

It’s the only answer that he gives you as you walk back into the street which is filled with people and torches. In the distance, you hear the baying of hounds. It chills you, goosebumps exploding up and down your arms as you watch a cluster of firelights gather far off down the road.

“The constable is leading a manhunt. They’ll come to question us too.”

Wordlessly you gesture for Namjoon to join you inside of your home. He closes the door firmly behind you and strides to the fireplace, using the torch to coax the simmering logs to a full flame. Cedar pops as he adds the torch to the fire, orange embers drifting up the chimney.

Rubbing your hands together, you offer him tea and he accepts with a soft smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks around the only place you’ve ever called home. Suddenly shy of your less-than-luxurious surroundings, you clear your throat and gesture to one of the mismatched armchairs by the fire as you grab a kettle.

Namjoon hardly fits in the chair. You press your lips to keep from laughing, which feels inappropriate with a man dead just a few yards away. With careful hands, you hang the kettle next to the fire, the flame close enough to heat the water as you scurry back to the kitchen and fill tea bags with herbs.

“What kind of tea do you like?”

“Yarrow, if you have it.”

“I do.” You grab the jar, popping the top. “Are you in great pain, Mr. Kim?”

“Call me Namjoon. Mr. Kim feels far too formal.”

“Well, we are strangers, after all.”

Namjoon certainly doesn’t feel like a stranger. You cast him a sidelong glance as you say it, looking for his reaction. He turns his head from the fire, meeting your gaze head-on. His lips curve in a secret smile, making your nerves dance.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Is it? You wonder. You’re not so sure.

Instead of asking him, you bring the mugs with bags of tea over to where he sits, handing him one. Steam rises from the spout of the teapot. With a thick towel, you lift it off of the hanger. Namjoon holds out his cup and lets you pour carefully into his mug, the smell of yarrow and mint wafting toward you. After pouring your own cup, you set the kettle down and sit across from him.

Your cold hands leech the warmth from the mug. You settle comfortably in the chair, relaxing and inhaling the chamomile in your cup. After a few moments of silence, you realize how comfortable and safe you feel with Namjoon, though you’ve only known him for a few short hours.

“Why have you come to the village?”

Namjoon watches the fire as he answers, “You were eavesdropping at the veterinary office. I’m sure you heard me.” You look down at your steaming cup and Namjoon chuckles, raspy and deep. It’s a nice sound.

“You said there was a ‘protected’ here. And something about a Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s face darkens at the mention of Yoongi. You chew on your lip, worried you’ve pushed him too far before you’ve even started to ask him real questions. His jaw works as he contemplates what you’ve said, sipping the tea a little.

“A protected just means someone under protection by my family,” Namjoon says finally. “My extended family is… large. We are a very close group and we consider those in our community blood.”

“It is… not always like that here.”

“Your mother assists Mrs. Hutch, though. That seems like family, in a way.”

“Mrs. Hutch is kind. Not everyone is.”

Namjoon nods. “It is not like that where I am from. We bear the sins of our neighbors and we share the responsibility of keeping everyone safe.”

“That must be nice.” You sip your tea and scald your tongue, hissing and setting the cup down. Namjoon leans forward as though to help you, alarm on his face. “Tea is too hot. I don’t know how you drink it.”

He smiles and shrugs. “I run warm.”

“So you said. How are you related to Dr. Kim?”

“He’s my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. His wife was best friends with my mom.”

“Oh.” You blink in surprise. “She passed away when I was very young. She… died the same winter as my father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Namjoon frowns and cocks his head. “What did your father do?”

“He was a hunter.”

One of the logs pops in the fireplace, making you flinch. You give a nervous laugh and glance at Namjoon, who has gone stone-still. The firelight dances on his face as he peers at you. Your smile falters a little at the gravity you find there.

“He only hunted fowl and deer,” you find yourself explaining. You don’t know why you say it, only that suddenly that feels important. “He didn’t like to hunt bigger game or predators. Mother says that he believed they were best left alone and that a true hunter knows his betters when he sees them.”

Namjoon hums. “Smart man.”

“I don’t know. He died in an animal attack when I was very young.”

“You must resent the woods.”

“Not at all. I think…” You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “I think that he wouldn’t blame the animals. The woods are their home. My mother says he was always very adamant about that. They don’t usually attack villagers, though.”

“Usually?”

“There are animal attacks happening. I’m sure Dr. Kim told you…?”

“Ah, yes. You think they’re without reason?”

“Perhaps hunger? I don’t know. It does not happen often.”

“Wolves are not known to hunt people.” Namjoon’s fingers drum against his mug, a steady tap. He seems thoughtful as he regards you. “They’re intelligent creatures and their packs are important to them. They take the threat to their land and their family seriously.”

“Like your family?”

He laughs. “Like my family.” Namjoon sips his tea again. “This land used to belong to several packs of wolves, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yes, until settlers drove them out. Not that long ago there were hunting parties for sport. They slaughtered entire packs, destroying bloodlines and nearly wiping out the wolves here entirely.”

“I always found that incredibly sad.”

“Why is that?”

“They’re incredibly important to the ecosystem here. And I guess I always agreed with my dad. I don’t remember him much, but I like to remember that he was good at heart.”

Namjoon hums but says nothing else. You sit in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Namjoon’s presence is steady, keeping out the cold and the fear just beyond the door. You wonder how he does that by just sitting in a chair, or how it feels so natural.

Outside, the world begins to turn gray. You yawn as exhaustion begins to set in and you feel yourself sagging. Eyes burning, you rub them with the back of your hands, blinking a few times to fight the explosion of colors in your vision.

“You can sleep,” Namjoon says softly from where he sits. You glance at him. “You can trust me.”

A hint of pine and bergamot drift toward you, making you drowsy. Namjoon grabs a blanket from the back of his chair and stands up, bringing it to you. He takes your mug and you watch him with sleepy, round eyes as he places the blanket over you.

“Sleep.” His voice is soft, distant. “I will be here.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you drift to sleep, remembering the warm sound of his voice. It… reminds you of your wolf.

Gentle voices pull you from the clutches of sleep. You wake slowly, a cramp in your neck making you reluctant to get up. You smell the fire and the hint of pine and bergamot. You hear a low, raspy voice that you instantly recognize as Namjoon.

How swiftly I know his voice, you think.

“You must wake her,” a male voice says. You recognize it as Dr. Kim. “The constable is coming for questioning.”

“She’s already awake,” Namjoon answers, a smile in his voice. Your eyes snap open at being caught, meeting his dark gaze as he smirks from near your door. “See?”

You scowl at him. How did he know that? Sitting up and stretching, you appraise the two men lurking near your door. “Is my mother still with Mrs. Hutch?”

Dr. Kim nods and steps swiftly into the room around Namjoon. Namjoon reaches out a hand, catching Dr. Kim with his arm and stopping him from entering the room properly. You watch in puzzlement as there’s a silent exchange between the two of them, Namjoon’s face dark as Dr. Kim raises a brow.

Then, Namjoon lets him go. You cock your head to the side, wondering what that’s about. Ignoring Namjoon, Dr. Kim approaches and says, “The constable will be here shortly. Say nothing about the farm.”

The farm. The memory of the wolves brings a chill to your arm, the smell of smoke and burning oil. The confusion and Dr. Kim’s refusal to answer your questions.

“What is going on?” you demand, eyes flickering from Dr. Kim to Namjoon. “Animal attacks, murders, you covering up something at the barn. I’m being lied to.”

“Say nothing about the farm,” Dr. Kim says again, voice firm. Namjoon makes a noise that startles you. It’s almost like a growl, your eyes going wide as he glares at Dr. Kim. “I told you this village has a complicated history. I’m looking after your safety.”

Heavy footsteps sound on the porch. There’s a loud knock on the door, the constable announcing his presence on the other side. Namjoon opens the door for him, standing back to let him in. The constable looks him up and down with confusion before looking at you, a question in his eyes.

“They came to check on me,” you offer. The constable has known you since you were a child, it’s no wonder he’s confused at the presence of a stranger in your home. “How can I help you, constable?”

“I’d like you to answer a few questions about last night. Mr. Liang confirmed you were one of the first people to Hutch’s last night.”

Dr. Kim walks to your kitchen and busies himself making tea. Namjoon moves to sit in the chair across from you, his warm presence from the night before replaced with something mildly threatening. You cut him a look but his dark eyes are focused on the constable as though he’s a threat.

The questions are easy enough. When did you wake up? Did you notice anyone around your home when you came home? Did you notice anyone outside? When did you come home?

You leave out running into Namjoon behind your home. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to not draw attention to him. You also leave out the strange incident at the farm, glancing sideways at Dr. Kim when he brings you lemon tea.

When the constable is finished, he eyes Dr. Kim. “Be at the station at four,” he instructs. “We’re splitting hunting parties. One to look for the culprit, the other to get rid of the damn wolves.”

“The wolves were there first, you know?” Namjoon speaks up, looking at you and not the constable. “Have you ever tried figuring out what they want?”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Please ignore my nephew, constable. He likes to insert himself in conversations he doesn’t belong in. Come, let’s look over the hounds before you send them out tonight.”

Together, the constable and Dr. Kim shuffle out. Before he shuts the door, Dr. Kim levels the pair of you with a heavy gaze. You don’t know what that gaze means, but you know that something is going on in this village and that he and Namjoon seem to have some idea about it.

As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Namjoon and demand, “What is going on?”

He sighs. “Would you listen if I just said to wait it out?”

“Do you know who murdered Mr. Hatch?”

Namjoon hesitates and shakes his head. You narrow your eyes, unbelieving. “I really don’t know who did, Red.”

“Why are you really here? Why all the secrets?”

“I told you, my family protects those who belong to their community.”

“What did you mean about asking what the wolves want?”

“I told you last night. There were wolves long before this village existed. Seems to me that if the wolves are suddenly killing the townspeople, perhaps it’s because they want their land back. Or maybe they’re angry from years of being hunted.”

That shuts you up. You can’t argue with that, exactly. But… “Are you saying that the wolves are capable of revenge?”

Namjoon stands and gestures to your cloak. “How often do you wear that?”

“Every day. It’s… sentimental to me.”

His eyes lighten and he offers a half smile. “Good. Red is a lucky color.”

“Where are you going?”

He opens the door, cold wind hissing past the opening. “Your mom is coming. I’ll see you later, Red.”

Without another word, Namjoon slips through the door and shuts it firmly behind him. You stare after him, openmouthed and confused. As promised, you hear your mother come up the steps, light feet scuffing before she quickly lets herself in, shutting the door firmly behind her.

You offer to make your mother breakfast, happy to help as she dozes in the chair. It isn’t until later that you wonder how Namjoon had heard her coming at all.

Little Lucy Larkin

In a little wood

Little Lucy Larkin

Up to no good

Little Lucy Larkin

In her little hood

Little Lucy Larkin

Ware of the woods!

Little Lucy Larkin

Stole a little bread

Little Lucy Larkin

In the woods of dread

Little Lucy Larkin

Is a little thief

Little Lucy Larkin

Die by wolf’s teeth

A sense of unease slithers up your spine as you pull your cloak closer. The voice of the children playing the Little Lucy Game echoes down the street and you pause to watch as the little boy playing Lucy steals the rock from the middle of the circle and the little boy playing the wolf gets up to chase him.

The other kids scream and giggle as the boys give chase, the sound of their laughter eerie in the cold gray of twilight. Shaking it off, you turn and duck your head as you walk up the steps to the Tall Tales Inn.

Warmth and the scent of food greet you. It’s a thinner crowd than the day before but still more people than you’re used to without the traders in town. There is a clear divide in the dining room with traders on one side and townsfolk on the other, the murder quick to make the locals distrust the new people in their streets.

Tense conversations hum in the gold light. You navigate around tables until you find Hoseok sitting with Seokjin. The sight of Seokjin gives you pause. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and meeting your questioning stare. He gives no reaction, though, turning his attention back to Hoseok who is murmuring quietly.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Jin,” you say by way of greeting. Hoseok gives you a look at your clipped tone. You ignore it, sitting down and leveling the older man with a stare, his father’s mysteriousness weighing on you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He narrows his eyes a fraction. “Just enjoying the company of friends.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping the constable?”

“I’m on the late-night shift.”

Grinding your teeth, you sit roughly. Hoseok just watches you, brows raised. You say nothing as you order a drink and a meal, picking at the splinters of the tabletop, eyeing Seokjin. If he’s put out by your rudeness he doesn’t show it, drinking heartily from his tankard and watching you with dark, even eyes.

You know Seokjin knows whatever it is his father and Namjoon have been talking about. You yourself have not been able to work out what’s going on in the village, but you’re sure the Kims know. And if Dr. Kim asked you to lie to the constable… well perhaps Seokjin is leading him astray as well.

Hoseok pipes up, steering the conversation everywhere he can to avoid the tension building between you and Seokjin and the topics of murders. You participate as little as possible, mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of the blooming mystery in your home.

An uncomfortable thought starts to take root in your mind. Is it possible that the Kim family is behind the murders? Dr. Kim has plenty of weapons at his disposal, and they had been talking about revenge, and Dr. Kim had covered up what happened at the Marrow’s farm… but what did that have to do with wolves?

You’re not sure. But you do know that the Kims are purposefully hiding things, that there is a murderer somewhere in the town or near it, and that there is a sense of doom that you cannot shake, a dark itch like stinging nettle in your bones.

Seokjin excuses himself to take an afternoon nap before his hunting party heads out for the evening. Your eyes track him as he goes. Seokjin certainly doesn’t seem evil, but there’s no telling what’s behind his pretty face.

“What is wrong with you?” Hoseok asks, leaning over the table and whispering harshly. “You’re behaving rather odd.”

“Something is going on.”

“Yes, your attitude.”

You turn and glare at him. “No, Hobi. Something is going on with the Kim family. I don’t know how to explain it.” You grip your cup tighter. “But I intend to figure it out.”

Hoseok questions you about what that means. You keep your answers vague, not wanting to rope him into your plan. Too often as children did you lure Hoseok into trouble, and with how dangerous night is becoming in your town, you know it’s a bad idea to endanger him too.

T sun sets over the village. You stand at your bedroom window, watching through the frosty window as the sun turns the sky into a smear of blood. The clouds have cleared away just for this sanguine sunset. It makes your stomach turn, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air.

Still, it doesn’t deter you. Red fades to gray-blue and gray-blue fades to black. Wind rattles the glass in the window pane. Turning from the window, you find your thickest pair of pants and fur-lined tunic. The fabric feels scratchy on your skin.

Dressed, you look at your red cloak folded on the bed. Any other night you would take it with you. It has become your safety net, something that keeps you warm and keeps you safe. You cannot recall a day you haven’t worn it since it mysteriously showed up thirteen years ago, but tonight, you need obscurity.

Instead, you reach for an old, thick cloak that used to belong to your father. It's dark brown and worn at the edges, a little too big for you as the hem brushes the ground. It will serve its purpose in keeping you hidden in the dark of the woods, though.

All you grab is a hunting knife that you don’t know how to use, a wax candle, and a solid piece of flint and sharp rock to light it with. The candle and flint are for emergencies only. You hope it won’t be so dark that you cannot see, but you’re unsure what the clouds are going to do.

Outside, the wind is sharp. Your nostrils burn as you breathe it in and duck away behind your house. No new snow has fallen during the day, which is a good thing. You don’t have to worry about dragging your boots and tiring your calves. It also helps that the sky is clear tonight, the moon a sliver of sharp light.

Baying hounds echo through the village and the forest as the hunting dogs lead the men into the woods. You’re quick on your feet, dashing into the woods and heading north. You don’t want to run right into the hunting party, but you do want to find their burning torches and keep them in your line of sight.

They are easy to find, hovering like orange fireflies in the distance. Careful to make your way in the dark, you follow them. Your breath mists in front of you, hands shaking more from the adrenaline than the cold.

The torches spread out. You chew on your lip, unsure which group would belong to Seokjin. You take a gamble, heading after the group closest to you.

Everything feels too loud. Each snap of a branch under your foot and crunch of dry leaves feels like it’s going to give you away. Still, you’re good at sneaking for the most part, having spent plenty of time skulking through the village to take nightly strolls in the woods.

Voices carry to you. Through a system of running a few steps forward and dodging behind a tree, you manage to follow the men at a distance. You think that you hear the constable’s voice, which is a good sign. If he’s around, perhaps Seokjin is too.

The deeper you go into the forest, the colder it gets. The ground beneath your feet slopes. The evergreens are packed tighter here, needles tickling your hands as you keep your hands held out from your sides as you slide downward.

This is near where I saved that wolf, you think.

It’s true. You recognize the slope of the land and the general area. You cannot tell if it’s exactly where you met the wolf, but it’s close enough that your senses tingle and your eyes sweep the land, expecting something to happen.

A sense of foreboding trails you as the men move deeper into the wood. You turn around and look for the other torches and see nothing but a dark, compact forest. Your stomach flips uncomfortably but you continue, unsure now if it’s safer to turn back or to keep going.

Ahead, the group of men decide to take a break. The hounds sniff the area around them, pulling at the leashes as they go. Crouching low, you watch as the hounds go in circles, following the scent of something that seems to confuse them.

The men take long droughts of water, making you wish you’d thought of that. Mouth dry and hands cold, you huddle against a tree, bark digging into your back.

A few minutes pace by. You close your eyes, resting your head against the tree, breathing cold air in deeply. You don’t know what you expect the group to lead you to, only that you-

Something snaps behind you. Your eyes fly open and your limbs lock. Heart beating like a steady drum, you hold your breath and strain your eyes. For a moment, there’s nothing but the dim voices of the men taking a break. You think it’s nothing until you hear something again, a gentle susurration of leaves.

One of the hounds lifts its head, ears twitching. Your eyes scan the surrounding area back and forth, searching for what you know is there.

It happens so fast that you don’t even see the wolves enter the ring of torchlight until they’re there, snarls rattling the trees. You clamp your hands over your mouth to mute your gasp as the sounds of screams and tearing flesh explode in the night. Hounds screech, their growls savage and choked as the wolves descend.

You don’t know how many there are. Torch lights go down and drown you in darkness. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl in on yourself, panting through your hands as the sounds echo in your ears. A new fear has stabbed its way between your ribs, making it hard to breathe.

Time moves slowly. Or quickly. You cannot tell which. One moment the sounds of a nightmare turned real are just a few hundred yards away. The next, an eerie silence blankets the dark forest.

You don’t want to open your eyes, but you have to. Very slowly, you crack an eye open. At first, there’s nothing. Your vision swims with flashing colors, your eyes trying to adjust. Then, there is the vague outline of trees. Ahead of you, where the men had been, lay shadowed piles.

Shaking, you glance around. You see nothing - hear nothing. You stand slowly. Each inch you gain feels like you’re being too loud. Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. The cool air makes it feel like an icy finger brushing down your nape.

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else around, you take a step toward where the attack happened. Leaves crunch beneath your feet. You stop breathing, waiting for signs of anything. Nothing happens and you let out a trembling breath, taking one more step. Again, you wait to see if your footfalls will trigger something.

You repeat this to the edge of the slaughter - for that’s what it is. A slaughter. Bile rises in your throat as you reach the first body and stamped-out torch. The constable and his hound lay in tatters, only recognizable by the batch on his cloak.

It is carnage. You don’t dare breathe through your nose for fear of breathing in the scent of death, circling the scene with weak knees, hand pressed to your mouth to keep in the whimpers. You see the faces of men you’ve known since you were a child. Ripped, bloodied, gored.

Finally, you lean over and empty the contents of your stomach. It burns on the way up, choking you. Pressing a hand against a tree, you breathe raggedly. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you twitchy and unstable, each nerve feeling like it’s on fire.

Leaves crunch a few feet away. Your head snaps in and you zero in on the source of the noise, mouth hanging open when you see Seokjin standing amongst the trees. He stares at you, frown on his face.

“Who are you?” he asks, voice gentle. You realize he can’t see your face under the cowl of your hood and you’re not in your traditional red. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter.”

You hear shuffling behind him before you see a white wolf. The white wolf from the Marrow farm. There are others, then. You don’t know how you missed them, the darkness of their fur blending in with the darkness around them.

The white one is spotted in red, muzzle matted, teeth slicked. Your stomach lurches. It isn’t hard to guess where it’s from. You take a step back and the wolf growls, lips pulled back. You freeze, looking amongst the pack of wolves that fan out around Seokjin, desperately looking for your wolf with the kind, intelligent eyes.

You do not find him there.

With a growl, the white wolf steps forward. Your instincts kick in and you turn and run, letting out a wild shriek as you do so. If Seokjin recognizes your voice when you scream, you cannot tell. The wolves are after you and you’re barreling through the trees with no hope of outrunning them, especially uphill.

A wolf nips at your ankle and you scream, tripping over your feet in your terror and going down hard. You’re jarred as you hit the ground, bones rattling as pain shoots up your limbs from the impact. Before you can scramble, there are teeth around your ankle, not biting down hard enough to snap, but hard enough to drag.

Your scream is wretched even to your ears. It is a curdling, nightmarish sound. You feel the scrape of leaves and sticks against your skin, cloak picking up dirt and twigs as you go. Your nails dig into the ground but the soil is frozen solid, fingers scraping bluntly against it.

With a surge of self-preservation, you kick your free leg backward as hard as you can. You hit the wolf in the muzzle, making it cry, and let go of your foot. You manage to crawl to your knees, slipping in the foliage as you try to stand before it’s tearing at your cloak, determined to drag you one way or another.

Sliding again as it drags you by the cloak, you try to undo the ties at your throat with shaking fingers. It comes away and frees you from the hellish drag to your death. This time, you’re faster to your feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you want to get away.

Your foot slides on the incline and with a shout you go down. This time, your head hits the ground hard. Your ears ring and your vision pulses. Blinking, you roll over and stare up at the canopy of dark trees. The world spins dangerously and you feel nausea churn deep in your stomach.

“Yoongi!” you hear the deep voice but it sounds warbled like you’re hearing it through water. Your head lolls to the side, the ringing in your ears still going as you see feet pass you. “Enough!”

Your field of vision narrows to a sharp point, edges pulling with black. You realize you’re about to pass out, oddly just thankful that you’re already on the ground. Just as your world begins to face, the face of the person in front of you appears.

Namjoon.

“Hey,” a gentle voice calls to you. There are soft hands on your head, brushing against your forehead. It smells like pine and bergamot as you snuggle into them. “I hate to wake you, but you need to wake up every few hours.”

The memory of the wolves comes to you. Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times before your vision adjusts to see Namjoon leaning over you. Cringing away from him, you press yourself into a warm, soft mattress that isn’t your own.

“Easy,” he cautions, holding his hands up. “You smacked your head very hard. I think you have a concussion.”

“Where am I?”

The room isn’t so much a room as it is a shack. There is a single fireplace in the far corner, a pile of logs, and the bed that you’re in. Despite the tiny space, it looks well-built and it’s warm, your heart slowing down as Namjoon leans to sit further from you and give you your space.

“Random shack in the woods near your village. I think it used to be a hunter’s stead for the winter.” He jerks his thumb toward the fireplace. “Hasn’t been used in a while. The wood has rotted.”

“Seokjin - you - what is going on?”

Emotions spill out of you like a broken dam. You don’t know which to acknowledge first: anger, fear, curiosity, gratitude.

Namjoon’s sigh is heavy. He visibly looks wearing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how soft his hair is, followed immediately by feeling ridiculous for the timing of said thought.

“Just…” he winces. “Try to lean back and take it easy, I’m worried about how hard you hit your head. I promise I have no intentions of hurting you or letting anyone hurt me.”

“You called that white wolf Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? Why was Seokjin in the woods - those people - they’re dead.”

He nods slowly. “They are.”

You lean back carefully. The bed is comfortable and Namjoon keeps his distance, worried eyes on you. “I will try to explain the best I can. It will require a little bit of faith that I’m not lying to you and that I’m not insulting your intelligence by telling you things that will sound insane.”

“Like what?”

“Like werewolves exist.”

You stare at him. He doesn’t laugh, crack a grin, or do anything to make you believe he’s joking. Your first instinct is to blow him off. Werewolves were a tale for children and a way to help the children of the village cope during periods of wolf violence.

Thus far, all Namjoon has done is protect you. Strange as it seems, you know that fact to be true. He didn’t tell Dr. Jim you were eavesdropping, he kept you company after Mr. Hatch’s murder, and he stopped the wolves from taking you.

Namjoon is… there is something between you. You know it.

Hesitantly, you say, “Alright. Werewolves exist. Keep going.”

He is visibly relieved that you’re not questioning or berating him. You don’t exactly believe him yet, but you want to hear his story.

“There were communities of werewolves who lived here long before humans did. When people migrated to this area, they drove them out and forced those communities to become smaller and smaller. When the werewolves asked for their land back or to share resources, they were hunted and slaughtered.”

Namjoon’s throat bobs and emotions flicker across his face. His features settle on pain, and you stop yourself from reaching out to take his hand. “What you vaguely remember as wolf attacks and wolf hunts as a child was those families being exterminated. There are a few families in the village who remember that werewolves exist. They took it upon themselves to remove the problem forever.”

This village has a complicated history.

Dr. Kim’s words float through your mind as you chew on what Namjoon has told you. He lets the information settle, giving you a few moments to think. You don’t recall anyone seriously ever talking about werewolves but…

“They’re angry,” you murmur, remembering how San described the massacre at the Mathesons. “The wolves now - those aren’t wolves. They’re werewolves who are getting revenge. You spoke of revenge with Dr. Kim. Is that why the animal attacks have been happening?”

Namjoon nods grimly. “There is a very small concentration of people in the village who keep the secret about the massacres and the knowledge of werewolves. Those families have been… targeted recently. They still hunt werewolves when they can.”

“Who is Yoongi?”

“Ah,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “He leads the last remaining community of werewolves. His family was murdered by your constable when he was a child.” You blanch. “Yoongi is angry, vengeful, and very influential. When he was voted pack alpha, he decided to eliminate the last remaining threats.”

“He’s the white wolf.” Namjoon raises his brows but nods. You think that makes sense, remembering the white wolf at the Marrow farm and the one who dragged you in the forest. “Why was Seokjin there? Did he lead the constable to-”

Namjoon hesitates and nods. “The Kim family are wolf friends. It’s largely the reason Dr. Kim is a veterinarian. They’re what we call one foot in the forest. There were two others in your village that were wolf friends. Your neighbor was one.”

You twist your fingers in the blanket. “Did Yoongi-”

“No. I believe he was murdered by one of the men who knows what Yoongi and his people are.”

“So that’s why Seokjin led them to Yoongi?” Namjoon gives a curt nod. “This is…. A lot to take in.”

“It is. Sleep a little more and we’ll talk about it more when you wake up. Your head is already swimming enough, yeah?”

Namjoon’s grin is gentle and you shoot one back. “Do you promise to tell me why you’re really here? And why it feels like I know you?”

“Of course. Sleep, Red.”

Namjoon wakes you again a few hours later. This time, it’s with water. It’s cool and fresh, soothing your aching head and waking up your sleepy senses. He lets you drain the entire thing, sitting thoughtfully at the end of your bed.

This time, you feel more alert. Sitting up carefully, you cross your legs and examine him. He’s dressed in simple clothes and a jacket, the fireplace throwing an orange glow on his face. Again, you’re struck with how much you could swear you know him, like his eyes are something you know and love.

He waits for you to get settled, placing your hands in your lap. You fiddle with the edge of your tunic, drinking him in. Strong shoulders, rough hands, tawny skin. Your heart does a flip before you shove away thoughts of how pretty he is to think about what he’s told you so far.

“I have questions.”

He smiles and it’s as warm as the fire behind him. “Of course you do.”

“Did the werewolves kill my father?”

You get the tough one out of the way first. It was a thought you had just before you slept, wondering if your father had been someone who helped the constable murder Yoongi’s family. Though you have decided to dislike the white wolf very strongly, you can’t help but pity him.

“No,” Namjoon says vehemently. “After you told me about your father, I did some asking around. He was a wolf friend. That’s why he didn’t hunt big game, Red. He knew about us.”

A tight feeling works its way up your throat. The relief and anger you feel is a double-edged sword, happy that he didn’t contribute to the displacement Namjoon is speaking of and angry that you know with every bone in your body that he was murdered. The instinct speaks to you the same way it tells you that you know Namjoon.

You look up at him sharply, realizing something. “What do you mean ‘he knew about us’? Us?”

Namjoon’s eyes are dark. He regards you intensely, making you shiver. Slowly, Namjoon begins to roll one of his sleeves. Your eyes drop to his hand as he does, long fingers meticulous. He bares his skin and holds his hand out to you, displaying the jagged, white scar that lopes around his wrist.

Without thinking twice, you reach out to him, pulling his hand toward you. His skin is warm, sending a tingle through your fingertips. His palm is large and rough, your fingers delicate as you flip it to face the ceiling, eyes glued to the scarring around his wrist.

You move your fingers over his palm gently, scraping the calluses as you go. He lets you do what you want, touch stopping at his wrist bone before glancing up at him. His eyes are impossibly dark and he nods, urging you forward.

The scarring is rough. Thick, ropey lines encircle his wrist like his hand was ravished by teeth. It makes you faintly think of Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle or -

“You,” you breathe, eyes meeting his. They are the same warm, intelligent, and welcoming eyes of the wolf you’d saved all those years ago. The wolf who had stood between you and the others at the Marrow farm. The wolf you dream about every night. “I saved you?”

His throat bobs. “You did.”

“I… that’s why it feels like I know you.” Your fingers trace his scar, almost fondly. Namjoon’s eyes flutter. “I do know you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He smirks. “‘Hi, my name is Namjoon and I can turn into a wolf whenever I want and you saved me a few years ago and I’ve been thinking about you ever since’ is not exactly a great opening.”

“Better than ‘you know most people who don’t want to be seen don’t wear a red cloak’.” He scrunches his nose. Cute. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright. I’ll talk if you’re willing to listen?”

You nod, not letting go of his hand. Now that you know who and what he is, any residual fear is gone. You scoot toward him, wanting to be closer. “I want to know.”

“Giho is my uncle like I said. He’s not a werewolf, though. That trait passed through my mom’s side of the family. Still, he was family and he knew about the werewolves that my father married into. He's a wolf friend and does what he can to help us, including making house calls and stealing us goods in harsh winters.”

“Huh. I always just thought he was a quiet, grumpy vet.”

“He is very much that, but he has also been a lifeline. He helps Yoongi far more than he should. It puts him in danger. His wife was killed for being a wolf friend. Giho was left alone simply because he is useful to the village.” Your fingers squeeze his hand at the hurt in his voice. “That night you found me… I was pretty young then. Fourteen, to be exact. I was nosing around the village that everyone was so afraid of and never saw the trap. I cannot emphasize how much you saved my life.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do. I was afraid but you were… hurt. And your eyes were so kind. I don’t regret it.”

“What a relief.” You smile, genuinely happy. “I was worried you might after finding out my family were sort of… killing people.”

“When you put it that way,” you wince. “But I do believe you. That humans drove you out. That people are hurting you and your people. You don’t deserve it and I… don’t think I am in a position to offer moral arguments to what you’re doing.”

“I knew I liked you.”

“You barely know me.”

Namjoon turns his hand and catches yours, lacing your fingers. Your heart skitters as he pulls you a little close and leans, eyes narrowed playfully. “Hmm, sorry. I wasn’t really allowed to come hang out around your town, Little Red.”

“Why did you finally come? Is it to help Yoongi?”

He shakes his head. “I only have one goal.”

“Which is?”

“To keep you safe.” That quiets you. Namjoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he continues, “You showed me such kindness, I just wanted to repay you. I liked to keep an eye on you when I could, always from a safe distance. You might not know me, but I grew up knowing you.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words. For someone who poses such a threat, Namjoon is gentle. Soft. Kind. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Did you give me the red cloak?”

“Yeah. It was to mark you as a friend. We give them to those who are under our protection.” He narrows his eyes. “Which is why Yoongi swears he didn’t know it was you in the woods tonight. Seokjin’s eyesight is too piss poor to realize it was you. Idiots.”

“Well if you know about me, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color? What do you like to eat? What's your favorite thing about being a wolf?”

So Namjoon does tell you. You both end up sitting on the bed next to one another, arms touching as he traces the lines on your palm. Your backs are pressed against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of his bed as he tells you about his childhood.

It is fascinating hearing about the dynamics of his community but it’s also sad. Hearing how they live in fear, hearing how so many of the people he knows are gone. Realizing that the things he tells you match up with things you realize about your own community.

Sadness sinks to the bottom of your gut like a rock. It isn’t pity that you feel, but something far more profound. It’s regret that you didn’t know any better. Frustration that he has suffered. A radical feeling of anger and desire for justice knowing you lived in comfort while Namjoon and his family suffered.

There are good parts, too. Namjoon recalls happy moments and blushes when he recalls seeing you a few times. It doesn’t feel weird or strange, knowing someone was looking out for you. It feels comforting, like old friends catching up.

Namjoon’s eyes sparkle as he tells you about his favorite books. You don’t know when you stop listening to him and start staring, but it’s inevitable. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, dimple making an appearance as he recalls a story about putting Yoongi in the dirt with his brother, Taehyung’s help. You love the way he gestures wildly with his hands, every word evocative and enthusiastic.

He’s the kind of person you would have been friends with had he grown up with you. And maybe a little more, you think, watching Namjoon watch you. His gaze is even and heated, making you squirm. His mouth twitches and you’re so sure that he knows he makes you nervous.

“I never thanked you,” you mention. He hums in question, letting you go back to tracing his scare delicately. He twitches and you grin. Good. “For saving me from the jaws of Yoongi.”

“Ah, that. I think he knew it was you. There’s a reason he dragged you instead of killing you on the spot.”

“Huh. Well, that’s very rude.”

“He’s good at that.”

“You sound fond, still.”

He nods. “I love Yoongi. Is my brother, in a way.”

“Well still. Thank you.”

You look up at Namjoon. You’re sitting so close, shoulders pressed against one another. He smells like pine and bergamot, your favorite scent. It’s heady, awakening a foreign ache in you. Your heart speeds up as you lean into him just a little more, watching him through your lashes.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he rumbles, voice deep.

Your toes curl. “Like what?”

“LIke you wanna do more than just thank me.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I know.”

Ah. You start to pull away and turn your head, realizing that he’s not interested, but Namjoon catches your chin with his other hand, tilting you back toward him. Your heart stalls when he looks down at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve known you for all my life. Not how I wanted, but I’ve known you nonetheless. But you haven’t had the chance to know me.”

“I want to. I feel like I have known you. Like I knew you were always there.”

“Is this what you want?”

This. Namjoon. Whatever is crackling between you. The thing that has sparked since the moment he caught you eavesdropping. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense.

Namjoon makes sense though. The way his gaze softens when he sees you. The way he looms on the edge of your life, a silent protector. The way he could do so much damage but is soft instead. The way everything about him feels like the sun on a summer day, like a field of wildflowers in spring.

He must sense you tipping over the edge. His grip on your chin becomes firm and he tilts your face toward him, leaning down to press his warm, full mouth against yours. The effect is instantaneous. You melt into him, sighing as a feeling of belonging slots into place.

The kiss is chaste. Namjoon pulls away and your lashes flutter. You hadn’t even realized your eyes closed. His gaze is dark and half-lidded, his face close enough that you feel his breath. His lips have stoked a fire in you and you want more, you want to spill out the years of longing for something you didn’t know was there, for the sudden confirmation that he’d been there all along.

Surging forward, you press your lips to his again. This time, it’s searing, your mouth fierce as you push up off of the bed. Namjoon falls in your rhythm easily, hand leaving your chin to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap.

Knees slotted on either side of him, you pour everything you have into the kiss. Your fingers card through his thick hair, silky strands sliding between them like you knew they would. His lips are soft on yours, mouth warm as you break the seal of the kiss with your tongue.

Namjoon lets out deep, throaty sounds. It coaxes the flame inside of you to a roar, tongue tangling with his. It’s wet and messy and a little impractical but you don’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It’s Namjoon. It feels like home.

Pleasure tingles down your spine. Namjoon grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. It feels hot and your skin is burning up, static trapped between your chests where they’re pressed together. Your hips twitch, tentatively seeking friction in his lap. Namjoon responds immediately, pulling your hips toward him and letting you roll.

Your mouths part but Namjoon doesn’t stop kissing you. You pant while he presses his mouth to your chin and jawline, tongue tough against the softness of your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growls. You tilt your head back, letting him pepper your throat. “You have no idea.”

“I always felt like something was missing. I think it was you.”

Namjoon moans at your admission. The heat between your legs is almost painful. One of Namjoon’s hands goes from your waist to between your legs, cupping you. You gasp back bowing as he presses firmly, deft fingers providing mind-numbing pleasure.

“That feels good.” You fist the collar of his shirt and squeeze your eyes. You feel tense, color exploding behind your closed lids. “Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. He pulls you in close, fingers curling. Your hips buck and you realize it isn't enough. You need the barrier of clothes gone. You want it more than anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yes.”

You do know. It’s second nature. You knew even that day in the street when you’d first seen him. Just like Namjoon knows what you want and need, land leaving the apex of your thighs to help you off his lap and onto the bed under him.

There’s a confidence in his movements that makes the room spin. Long forgotten are the wolf attacks and Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle. Here, it’s only the rasp of your pants against your skin as Namjoon pulls them down. It’s only the heat of his skis as you yank on his tunic, desperate to feel him.

Namjoon does run hot. His skin is burning up as your hands explore his firm chest. He captures your lips again, sucking your bottom lip in his mouth as he spreads your legs open with a knee. You shake under his touch, equal parts eager and stimulated.

He’s so, so gentle as he caresses your inner thigh. When he brings his fingers to your sticky center, you let out a pitiful whine. Namjoon pauses, fingers pressed to your swollen kiss as he laughs and breaks the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, leaning your head up to bite his chin. “It feels good.”

He gives you a quick kiss. Once. Twice. “Good. I want to make you feel good.”

Namjoon circles his middle finger lazily around your clit. Your feet press into the bed, hips pulling up off the sheets. It feels amazing, pleasure sparking in your stomach. “That,” you gasp. “I like that.”

He dips his head down, attaching his mouth to your neck as he teases your cunt. You don’t have to say anything else, Namjoon’s inquisitive fingers learning what makes you squirm and sigh. You’re a mess beneath him, chest heavy, beats of sweat making your shirt cling to you.

You claw at it, pulling it away from you. Namjoon leans up and lets you take it off, eyes dipping as he smiles appreciatively. He combines the efforts of his fingers with his mouth, bending low to catch a pert nipple with his teeth.

“Shit!” you squeak, making him chuckle again.

His fingers circle your clenching hole, pussy leaking onto his fingers. He presses a finger in and you let out a long, quiet whine. The feeling of his finger pressing against your walls is perfect, your cunt clenching as he shallowing thrusts the finger.

Everything he does is perfect. He sucks at your nipple hungrily as he fingers you slowly, making sure to press up inside your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unable to think about anything except his teeth scraping your sensitive bud and your pussy clenching around his finger.

Namjoon is attentive. The heel of his hand presses to your clit and he eases another finger in, slower than the last. He looks up at you, mouth slick with spit to watch your mouth fall open. You nod, urging him further, sound stuck in your throat.

The wet squelch between your legs as he fucks you with his fingers is obscene. You like it though, driven by the fact that it’s Namjoon doing it. Namjoon who you saved. Namjoon who watched over you.

You open your eyes and look up at him, cradling his face in your hands. His forehead is damp with sweat from the heat building in the little shack. His skin is flushed and his hair hangs in his face. You pull at his bottom lip with your thumb and he gazes at you, hungry and wild, pupils blown.

Greedy, you pull him to you. The kiss is more teeth than lips, the two of you panting. Your leg hooks around his waist and you nibble his bottom lip, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, an orgasm starting its ascent.

“I want you,” you breathe against his mouth. Your lips are sore from arduous kissing. “Please.”

He kisses you. “Okay.”

It’s that simple. You ask for it and he gives it to you.

Namjoon retracts his fingers from your cunt. You feel the sudden loss, fidgeting as you wait. He makes quick work of his pants, kneeling on the bed and bringing his hands covered in your juice to pump his cock. You feel your eyes bulge at his thick length.

He notices and grins, slowing his movements. You watch as his hand smears precum down his shaft, twisting lightly as he gets to the top, his thumb brushing over his dark tip. “You can take it,” he pants, grinning wolfishly. “I know you can.”

Instead of answering, you nod, lifting your hips eagerly. He hums, pleased as he lets go, cock bobbing heavily while he shuffles over and leans over you. He places his hands on either side of your head, arms flexing as he holds his weight to bend down and steal a quick kiss.

You kiss back feverishly, one hand traveling between your sweaty bodies to grip his length, trying to stroke him the way he did. He sighs, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead against your chin as a shiver ripples through him. You smile, continuing to pump him.

“Want to be inside,” he mumbles, barely coherent.

You open yourself up more, gently guiding the blunt crown of his cock toward your trembling entrance. You hold your breath as his hips follow your hand, breaching your ring of tight muscles and pushing in.

Immediately your muscles spasm and resist, overwhelmed by Namjoon’s girth. You blow out a long breath as he enters you so, so slowly. It’s heaven and it’s hell, it’s pleasure and it’s pain. Namjoon presses his mouth to you, tongue distracting you as he bottoms out, stuffing you full.

Nothing has ever compared to how stretched you are. He doesn’t move, letting your cunt twitch around him. He holds himself up with one hand, the other brushing up and down your side, squeezing bits of flesh comfortingly as you try to still your beating heart under him.

The pain fades. You get greedy, wiggling your hips back and forth experimentally to feel the way Namjoon’s cock rubs against your walls. He blows out air sharply, a half laugh before his hand drops down to your hip, pushing you down into the bed with his weight as he slides backward.

“Ohhhh,” you sigh, head lolling to the side. The pressure of Namjoon pressing you down as he sets a slow pace of fucking into you is just right. You close your eyes, letting him set a slow pace in silence. “Yeah.”

Namjoon’s breath is unsteady. Every little sound he makes sets you on fire. You’re pliant beneath him as he picks up his speed, properly fucking into you. One of your hands reaches up to grab his bicep, nails digging in, the other shooting to his hand on your hip, squeezing his wrist.

Everything feels right. Connected. Overheated. The air is so thick you think you might suffocate, sheets sticking to your balmy skin, toes curling as Namjoon’s cock hits that spot inside of you that drives you mad.

Nothing but this matters. Nothing but knowing your wolf isn’t really a wolf at all, and that he’s been there all along. Just like you’d hoped.

“Fuck,” Namjoon pants. “I never dreamed I’d have you.”

“I dreamed of you,” you gasp on a particularly hard thrust, your nails dragging down his arm. “I just didn’t know it.”

His mouth crashes to yours. “Mine,” he growls. “My savior, mine to protect.”

Your orgasm spins like an out-of-control spool of thread, winding tighter and tighter. Namjoon can tell, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, throwing his gentle movements out the window and fucking you hard into the bed.

The sounds and words coming out of your mouth are useless babble, your thoughts turning murky as that spool tightens so much inside of you that it bursts, unspooling and spilling out of you around Namjoon’s cock.

You can’t even breathe as you come, feet kicking, nails digging into his skin, teeth clenched. Your heart beats in your ears, the only thing you can hear for a few seconds as you spasm, eyes clenched shut. You are vaguely aware of Namjoon coming shortly after you, your name ripping through clenched teeth as he does.

There are a few minutes of nothing punctuated by your stilted breathing and rapid pulse. Finally, you blink, stars swimming in your eyes as you look at Namjoon, who hangs his head on your chest. You reach a hand up and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Your wolf. Somehow you’d always known it. Even when you thought you were crazy.

Gently, Namjoon pulls out of you, fluid spilling between your legs. You don’t care, limbs too heavy to move. Your skin is still burning up from exertion and you roll your head to the side to watch Namjoon as he lays next to you, pulling you toward him.

For a little while, it’s quiet. You listen to the beating of his heart, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You’re content just to lay there feeling whole just for once.

After a while, Namjoon sighs. “You have to go back eventually.”

“We.”

“Hmm?”

“We have to go back.”

Namjoon pulls away and frowns at your tone, eyes reading your face. Your mouth is set in a firm line and you look at him with all seriousness. “We’re not letting them get away with what the humans did to you and your family.”

“You want to help?”

“Yes.” You pause. “I think it’s what my father would have wanted. It’s what I want. Even if Yoongi bit me.”

“Yoongi will never bite you again,” he vows fiercely. Then, a little more gently, “But he… would be glad to hear your sympathetic stance. I’m glad to hear it, Red.”

“Good.” You snuggle closer. “You’re mine to protect too. And I will make them pay.”

For Namjoon. For your father. You’ll paint the village red.

#namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #werewolf namjoon #collab

705 notes · View notes

kyph3r · 3 months

Text

NEW WORKOUT PLAN

trainer!namjoon x fem!reader

in which... your new trainer is hot, you're horny, and it's past closing hours

warnings: pwp, smut, use of the word "slutty", this is rlly short so be ready for a fast pace, im imagining a chubbier reader but the fic is for everyone !!!

an: just a little drabble, i was listening to the college dropout and the new work out plan played, it inspired me ;)

when your trainer walks in, you swear the world stops for a second

you just joined a new gym, it's marketing said it was rigorous and had the top trainers in the country working to get people in shape. so when a 6'2, bulky, handsome man walks into your assigned training room and says he'll be helping you work out for the next few months with the sweetest smile on his face, should you really be as surprised and horny as you are?

your first day is extremely embarrassing, you swear the universe cursed you to be the most unflexable person on earth. but your trainer, namjoon, says it's all right with a small smile and proceeds to lay you out on the ground and help you stretch. his big arms grab your thighs and pull them back until your knees hit your chest and fuck, you pray to the highest power that you aren't leaking through your tight little leggings.

"you are so tense, is everything alright?" he asks with a concerned look on his face. the hands on your thighs go higher and start gently massaging your calves as an attempt to get you to relax. it does quite the opposite. you can't tell if he's teasing you on purpose or if he is just that oblivious.

"n-no i'm fine namjoon.. i just don't stretch a lot, that's all!" you say with a tremble in your voice, trying to hold back a pleasured moan from the way he's touching you. he lets out a noise of understanding and starts bending you more.

"if that's the case then we should probably spend a lot of time stretching in our first few sessions," he looks down at you and smiles, "i don't want you to accidentally hurt yourself because you haven't stretched." the look on your face after he said that must have been very amusing, because he had to lower his head to let out a chuckle.

namjoon is an excellent trainer. he insists on doing the workouts alongside you "to make it fair" but it honestly just makes things a lot worse. by the end of the workout his voice is breathier, there's a shine of sweat all over him, and the image of a big man dripping sweat and saying your name alongside praises of "keep it up, you're doing so well" leaves you in more of a debauched state than you should be in after a work out.

by the end of the first month you're sore and very sexually frustrated. you've been trying to seduce him in any way possible, wearing the tightest work out gear you own, blinking up at him with eyes that scream "please fuck me!" any time that you can, you really give props to namjoon for being so respectful and proper during your sessions. but every once in a while his polite persona will break and he'll look at you like he wants to devour you right in there in the training room. but it will quickly go back to normal, leaving you a horny mess.

the closest you think you came to him fucking you was the yoga day, you purposely wore shorts that made your ass look amazing. he told you to do the downward dog position and you swear you heard a quiet "fuck" coming from him behind you, quickly covered with a cough. by the end of the session a blush was set high on his cheekbones and the hands around your waist positioned to check your form were gripping firmer.

by the middle of your second month, he finally breaks.

"do you know how much of a tease you've been, huh?" he questions while giving a slap to your ass. he has you pressed against the wall, backside jutting out to flush against his moving hips. his pace is ruthless, one hand holding your own above your head and the other hooking two fingers into your open mouth. "i had to endure your slutty little outfits for all these weeks, shit, take it."

you moan uncontrollably, his thrusts becoming faster as the hand in your mouth snakes down to your core, playing with your clit.

"namjoon! too much, gonna cum," you whine out, grinding your hips back onto his. he gives another slap to your ass and speeds the fingers on your clit and you're cumming, arousal squirting onto his hand and the ground. his groans become louder as he feels the mess you made and angles his head down to suck along the column of your neck.

"fuck, baby, you're so good. so good for me. just let me use you a little longer." his pace slows to shallow thrusts that feel like they hit your guts until he comes with a low moan, filling your insides.

you are both panting, sweat and cum dripping off of each other. he lays his head on your shoulder and slowly pulls out of your cunt.

"so–" he clears his throat, "would you like to go out somewhere?"

#namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon #rm x reader #rm imagine #rm fanfic #rm smut #rm fluff #rm headcanons

550 notes · View notes

taleasnewastime · 10 months

Text

False awakening

Summary: You didn’t plan this, but there’s only one bed and that always turns best friends into something more.

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: PWP, smut, fluff

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, penetrative smut, dry humping, slight dirty talk, reader shows insecurities, there is only one bed!

Authors Note: I don’t know why I can’t just write 1,000 words.

You can barely contain your moans. That thing he’s doing with his tongue combined with the way his thumb brushes against your tight bundle of nerves has you acting like you’ve never experienced so much pleasure. Honestly, right now, you can’t think of another time when you have. He’s being gentle, not giving you quite enough, but is giving you enough that you teeter on the edge of imploding. While it should frustrate you, it only heightens your pleasure.

The way you’re acting is obviously going to his head. The soft moans that escape you, the hand on the back of his head forcing him deeper into you, the way your back arches off the bed; all things that have you feeling his smile grow against your folds.

Frankly, you don’t care.

You only care about getting more. About his thumb adding a little more pressure as it continues to move on your clit. Or his tongue going a little deeper when he pushes it inside of you. Or his hand on your hip moving so it’s no longer stopping you from grinding up into him.

“Keep going,” your voice is breathless, frustration starting to seep into you. You want more, want to be driven over the edge and yet he’s not allowing that.

Despite your words, he does the opposite. Instead of giving you more he starts to draw away.

It takes you a second to regain your thoughts when you see his face. Of course. You knew it was him, but some deep part in the back of your mind lights up with the knowledge that of course it’s Namjoon between your legs giving you near unearthly head. But a larger part of you feels confused, surprised even, like you hadn’t joined the dots, hadn’t quite realised who it was.

His smile doesn’t leave his face as he starts to crawl up your body. It’s one you know and yet it’s in a situation you’ve never seen it before.

Like everything he does, however simple, it only deepens your desire for him. He can frustrate you all he wants, but dragging out what you want only increases your need. Because that’s what it is, a need. You need him to get his head back between your legs. You need him to put his fingers back on you. You need him to put his cock – which you are still yet to see – inside you. And watching him crawl up to your face, you need him to kiss you. You need it all. And knowing you can’t have it all only makes it worse.

He pauses when he’s hovering over you. His face mere inches from yours. The length of his body brushing against yours but not quite touching.

He’s beautiful. It’s the only thought that takes over your mind. His wide, cheeky smile. His deep eyes that you’ve always thought swim with kindness. The deep dimples in his cheeks. His now rustled hair spiking up in all different angles, so different to how it normally perfectly styled.

Joon. Your Namjoon.

He makes your heart stutter even when he’s hovering over you doing nothing else.

You want to reach up and thread your hands through his hair, this time to pull him down to your lips rather than between your thighs. But just like the trend of the evening, Namjoon doesn’t rush to give you want you want. His smile widens, a sparkle appearing in his eyes, as if he can read what you want and is getting pleasure from not giving it you straight away.

“Joon,” you whine his name, desire dripping off the syllable.

There’s a pause before he starts to dip down towards you. His smile fades at the same rate as he moves towards you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to your lips, only for a second but it’s enough for something to stir inside you, for the muscles between your legs to clench around nothing. His face is near straight when he stops with his nose touching yours and his mouth ghosting yours. Your eyes are closed in preparation for the touch of his lips on yours.

You can feel his breath as heavy as yours, his chest brushing against yours with every exhale, his nose running along yours with every inhale. The tension between you builds tenfold in the pause.

“Y/N,” he mutters, his voice and tone in complete contrast to yours. Both hold a deep need, a desire near bursting to get out, but his holds more control where your voice only showed inpatients. While you want to find your release now, Namjoon’s tone promises just how long he wants to take in getting there. Your name muttered like a sigh, as if with it he’s taking in a moment he’s dreamed of for a while but never thought would happen.

His face dips a little closer to yours, his lips pressing against yours, his mouth opens and you feel his tongue run along the seam of your lips. There’s no hesitation when you open your mouth for him. There’s a gruff laugh, the noise showing his deep amusement, but he doesn’t feel amused when his hands tighten on your waist, his forehead dipping onto yours and then his tongue finally –

You wake with a start. Your pleasure turns into cold, stark realisation.

The room is as dark as it was in your imagination and yet now you realise it was a dream you can’t remember any of the details of where you were. The only details that stick with you are the ones you wish you could forget. Namjoon’s head between your thighs, the softness of his hair and the pressure as you pushed him down onto you, feeling his smile against your skin, his tongue against your lips.

Your heart hammers and it doesn’t stop as the room around you starts to come into focus.

It happens in waves.

The frilly bedsheets. The large floral pattern you can’t see in the darkness but remember laughing at before swiftly realising that floral bed was the only one in the small room. The room you thought would have two twin beds, or at the very least enough space for one of you to sleep on the floor. The room you weren’t even supposed to be sharing, let alone the bed. The space that quickly felt awkward, but just as quickly was diffused with a joke from Namjoon and then soft reassurances; that he wouldn’t hog the bed, that you’d hardly notice him, that you were friends and it was just sleeping.

Which brings you to another realisation. The hot and heavy pressure draped over your middle, an arm. And the feeling pressed along your back, a body. And not just any arm or body, but a person, one you’re pretty sure you just had a sex dream about.

The possible reason for that quickly becomes evident. In your flustered state you squirm. Not much, but enough to feel that it’s not just his arm draped over you and front pushed up to your back. Something hard touches your ass, something that has you becoming statuesque. That is definitely not his other arm. And given the way it just brushed up against your ass, even with the smallest of movements, you can understand why your sleep ridden mind came up with the scenario it did.

Fuck.

Sleep now feels like the last thing on your mind. It could be 3am or 10am. You may have only been asleep for 30 minutes or your alarm might be near going off, you don’t care, you’re never going to get back to sleep in this position, with your best friend draped over you and his semi pressed into your ass.

As much as you want to stay, you also need to go. With Namjoon’s steady breaths behind you, you start to move. Slowly trying to ease out of his arms. His breaths continue as you inch out of his embrace, it all feels like it’s going well until you hear his mumbled tone.

“Where you going?”

His hand tightens around your waist. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or some reflex from his still half-asleep mind.

You go stiff and motionless, as if, if you don’t move he’ll forget you’re here. Namjoon on the other hand shuffles closer. His nose presses into the back of your neck, his feet tangle with yours, and while moments ago you only felt the ghost of his hard cock, now it’s completely pressed against your back. There’s no imagining it now because you can feel it’s exact length and size.

It’s a position you’ve dreamed of in more ways than one. Laying in Namjoon’s arms. Being held by him. Being more than friends.

But that’s not what this is.

He’s your friend and he’s half asleep right now, probably well on his way to being fully asleep. While this may be your dream, it doesn’t feel like one now. You feel like you’re taking advantage of him. He’s probably having his own dream right now, one where the person he’s cuddling isn’t you, where he’s tangling his legs with someone he actually wants to be intimate with or is pressing his lips against the neck of someone he actually wants to kiss. Not you.

“What you thinking about?” You thought he was asleep, so his still raspy voice makes you jump. His deep chuckle rumbles all the way through you. “I can almost see your brain whirling.”

You could lie and say you need a wee. You could say you’re too hot. You could say anything, but nothing comes to your mind quickly enough.

“You can’t see it,” you mumble, the words falling out of your mouth despite your brain feeling blank, “your eyes are closed.”

He hums. And just like in your dream you can feel his smile start to curl upwards in amusement, this time it’s just against a different part of your body. The thought has you panicking again. Face hot, body taught.

“Well I can feel it,” he mutters.

Just like I can feel you. You think the words but don’t say them. The fact he’s so comfortable right now must mean he’s completely oblivious. And while that means you could pretend you are fine and enjoy this, you can’t help but feel guilty, as if this is somehow your fault, as if, if you did that then you’d be breaching his trust somehow. It’s a human reaction. It happens to men in their sleep all the time. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but it’s Namjoon, it’s your best friend that you’ve always wished was more who has never implied he wants anything more, and because of that you can’t bring yourself to just lie here and take advantage of him.

It's felt like hours since he last spoke, while it’s probably hardly been a minute, but it’s been long enough for you to start trying to move again. Just like before, Namjoon’s arm tightens enough to cage you in.

“Joon,” you whisper his name in an annoyed tone, a warning, but also not loud enough to wake him or for him to suddenly recognise your tone. Maybe that would get him to let you go quickly, but you’d also quite like to get out of this without him realising; it’ll be easier to face him in the morning that way.

He hums in response, still completely unbothered. Still completely unaware of the position he’s in, or more who he’s in it with.

“Are you still asleep?” You ask.

His hum this time is more confused. You can almost picture his face scrunched up in confusion as his mind tries to figure out your words as if some hard equation.

You try to twist in his arms, and it goes wrong for several reasons. Number one, because you don’t make it very far, the fact that you thought you’d be able to shift with half of Namjoon’s weight on you in the first place is laughable. Secondly, your heavy movements jostles Namjoon out of his sleepy state effectively losing your opportunity to try and escape in a way of that will mean he won’t remember this in the morning. And finally, because all you really achieve is rubbing your ass against his cock.

“Oh.”

The flat tone has your heart dropping. It confirms everything you feared. He’s realised where he is and more importantly who he’s with.

Namjoon’s weight now doesn’t feel comforting but oppressive. He doesn’t feel safe, he feels like he’s locking you in a cage. It’s every thought that’s had you holding back from giving any impression you like him, because of course he wouldn’t want you back or feel the same way. And if he doesn’t want you that way, but finds out that’s how you feel, you’re sure it’ll be the start of the end.

You want out.

“Sorry,” he laughs, not sounding very sorry, his body still pressed against you, seemingly in no rush to let you go.

Heart hammering, still lying completely stiff, you’re shocked when you feel Namjoon’s soft chuckle against your neck.

“I promised I wouldn’t hog the bed,” he says it as if it’s a joke, but you don’t find it funny.

“Are you still asleep?” You say it firmer this time, in disbelief that a laugh is his reaction, that he continues to joke. The only reasonable explanation being that he must still be half asleep.

This time he rolls away from you. The loss of his weight, of his heat, is harder than you’d thought it would be. And now you’re free to run, you don’t.

Silence fills the room. No more soft breathing. No more rustling of sheets. No more talking. That awkwardness you so rarely feel with Namjoon starts to seep back in and your heart aches with it.

You’ve ruined it. Sleeping next to your best friend and a stupid dream is all it takes for your friendship to crumble. Maybe it wasn’t as strong as you thought.

“Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” he says into the night, his tone now flat.

“You’re ok,” annoyance still clings to the words, but after taking a breath you manage to say the next lighter. “I’m sorry too.”

There’s a pause, a small rustle as Namjoon shuffles in his spot and then he says in a tone that you know means he has a frown on his face, “you have nothing to apologise for.”

“No,” you disagree. “It’s only natural for you.”

“That doesn’t make it ok for me to rub up against you.”

It doesn’t feel that way, you’re the one that made this awkward, but you don’t correct him. Both of you lay staring at the ceiling, a now large gap separating you. Your mind whirling with how badly you’ve screwed this up.

Time stretches with neither of you moving, no steady breathing to let you know that Namjoon’s fallen back asleep. There’s no chance you’re going to now. But you stay lying there, thinking it would be Namjoon who’d get up to sort himself out, or at least to put more distance between you. He doesn’t. Just like you he lies there.

“Are you not going to …”

Your voice sounds loud even as you croak saying it. In the pitch-black room, while your face is on fire, you can almost hear Namjoon’s smirk in the seconds silence after you’ve spoken.

“Y/N,” his tone is mock scandalised mixed with a little cheek, a combination that only has you preparing for the worst. “Are you asking me to masturbate?”

“No,” you respond too quickly, and then carry on trying and cover yourself, “I just thought you might want to go to the bathroom … it must be uncomfortable…”

“Or … I could do it here.”

You heat. You know he’s teasing you and yet it doesn’t stop your imagination running wild. You always tease each other, why shouldn’t now be any different?

“Or you could help?” His tone keeps its cheeky quality, but something seeps into it as if your silence has made a thought catch and he wants to test a theory.

“Joon!”

“Y/N?”

Your face has never felt hotter. You’re surprised the bedcovers haven’t lit on fire. Your heart pounds, an embarrassed ache spreads across your chest, while a traitorous feeling heats between your legs. Lying on your back, staring at the ceiling doesn’t feel like it’s helping and while you don’t think any position you lie in, in this bed, will be better, moving back onto your side, your back to Namjoon, feels at least partly better.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” His tone still holds a jokey tone, as if this situation is highly amusing him, but it’s got an edge of seriousness to it too.

You know you only need to say the word and he’ll stop whatever it is he’s doing. But your tongue suddenly feels heavy and the desire to tell him to stop never comes. Because you may feel hot and bothered, but you’re also interested to see how far he’ll push this. Because really, you’re not uncomfortable, you never are around Namjoon. And if there is a chance that he feels the same about you, however slim, maybe you shouldn’t push it away and see what happens.

“No,” you whisper into the room. The word said so quietly you’re not sure he even hears. The fact he doesn’t speak only adding to the fact.

There’s a rustling of sheets, a slight movement of the mattress, things you assume are Namjoon feeling nervous. When he speaks again you don’t expect it to be so close that you jump a little.

“So, uh, do you want to help?”

You bite back the smile that threatens your lips even though Namjoon can’t see you. The awkward way in which he asked the question makes you unable to stop yourself. You’re both treading into unventured territory, at least you’re not the only one feeling uncertain right now.

The bed moves again, Namjoon shuffles in place. You assume its continued awkwardness coming out. But it continues longer than it did before and it doesn’t take you long to realise he’s doing more than shuffling, he’s moving.

Everything within you clenches in expectation, blindly trying to work out what he’s doing. And then you feel him.

He’s gentle as he reaches a hand out to touch you. First on your back, as if he expected you to be closer, but his fingers run along your skin, up until his fingers are curled around the dip in your hip. Your breathing is coming out shallow, eyes wide as you wait to feel what he does next. You half want to reach out and pinch yourself to test you’re still not in a dream when the bed starts to move again and then it’s not just Namjoon’s hand you can feel but also the heat of his body along your back. Not quite touching you, but close.

“Please,” he whispers, the word making you clench. Is he begging you?

You don’t answer him verbally, too scared what your voice will sound like. Instead, you shuffle backwards into him. Throat thick when his hand tightens against you as your back pushes into his front. There’s a moment where nothing happens. A small beat of time where both of your minds collectively wonder if this is really happening.

You shuffle back a little more, wondering if you need to give him a bit more to make it clear what you’re saying. You decide if he hesitates a second longer, you’re getting out of here.

He doesn’t. Your movement seems to snap him out of some sort of trance. His hand tightens on you as he pushes impossibly closer. His cock still firm as it presses against your thigh. His chin resting against your shoulder, his lips back pressed against your neck, this time with more purpose.

“Yeah?” He’s breathy as he tries to clarify that what’s happening is ok. The single word all he can manage.

Your heart feels caught in your throat. Pushing yourself you turn your head to look over your shoulder. Instantly you know it’s a mistake. Your nose brushes against his when he props his head off your shoulder. It feels too intimate too quickly. A small amount of panic starts to seep back in as you pull away. Still looking at him, noses further apart, it still feels close but it feels better.

“We don’t have to,” he whispers, eyes flicking across your face, finger starting to trace a gentle circle where it sits on your hip.

“Do you want to?” You throw it back to him.

A smile starts to curl on his lips. Small, barely there. But you know Namjoon, know all his looks. And right now, you can see the way he’s trying to supress his happiness.

He shuffles, draws his hips away enough that he’s no longer pressed against you. His eyes are still firmly locked on yours, keeping you locked in place. And then he shuffles back in. His hand’s disappeared from your hip and it becomes clear why when he presses himself back against you. His hand on his cock, he moves it so it’s pressed firmly against your ass and when he finally stills and takes his hand away, his cock rests comfortably between your cheeks.

“Does this feel like I want to?”

You’re sure your face is showing all your emotions right now. Shock, awe and pure desire. But the fact you don’t speak makes Namjoon want to spell it out to you.

“Yes, Y/N, I want this,” he says firmly. “I want you.”

“Ok,” the word squeaking takes you surprised, your lips speaking without the knowledge of your brain.

Namjoon just smiles. A big smile. One that takes over his face, his dimples popping out.

“Ok,” he almost chuckles the word, leaning his head forward so he can brush his nose against yours again. But he doesn’t go any further, the smile still firmly in place but his lips don’t touch yours. “You look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“I just,” you mutter, stumbling over your words. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“That a good thing?”

You nod your head, nose bashing against his and if possible, his face brightens.

“Thank god,” he murmurs before his lips crash against yours.

It takes you by surprise so it takes a second before you reciprocate. It should feel weird, kissing your best friend. But this doesn’t feel weird. Even as your neck starts to ache from twisting backwards, you don’t want to stop. Namjoon’s lips on yours, his teeth gently tugging on your bottom lip, his tongue running along the spot before pushing into your mouth and along your tongue.

When you roll your hips back into his, you’re rewarded with a soft moan into your mouth. The noise encourages you, continuing to roll your hips backwards, feeling his cock slipping up and down in the seam between your ass. Your teeth clash as both of you smile into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck,” the word fans across your face, Namjoon’s hips starting to roll into yours too. “What are you doing to me?”

You huff a laugh, unsure how to respond to that. Finally, your head twists back to flop on your pillow.

Namjoon’s breath continues to be hot and heavy against your neck. His hand on your hip slips before tightening. Both of you rock against each other and though it feels good to you, the way Namjoon’s dick feels combined with the way his body starts to tense against you shows he’s enjoying this more than you are.

You chuckle, despite yourself. You just feel so happy. This is finally happening. You don’t even care to think about after this, because this is happening now and that’s all you currently care about. The fact Namjoon might even feel a fraction of that swells your heart with joy. The fact he’s currently acting as if he’s about to come, makes you laugh.

It breaks through what’s happening. Namjoon’s grip on you still tight, but the movements of his thrusts against your ass slow – don’t completely stop, just become a gentle rock more than a more desperate thrust.

“This good?” Namjoon asks. “For you? Because it’s good for me. But if it’s not working for you then –”

“It’s good,” you smile, hand running down your side until it rests on Namjoon’s hand. It’s sweaty, but you still manage to add enough pressure to get him to realise you want him to follow your lead. Under your hand, you feel his slide against your skin, his slightly rough fingers running under the hem of your top and along the skin underneath. You normally hate people touching your stomach, an area of your body you’ve never been fully confident of, but with Namjoon you feel comfortable. His touch doesn’t linger, he doesn’t make a big deal of it, but his lips go back to the spot on your neck, a small delicate kiss being placed there.

“You’re beautiful,” his voice is back to being gruff and full of lust. “Always wanted to touch you here.”

He takes over. His finger running along the underside of your boob to show you exactly which spot he’s talking about. You bite your bottom lip, the skin taught with how wide your smile is.

“And here,” he continues, his fingers tracing the skin between your boobs. “And here.”

Finally his hand splays across your boob. Taking a handful, he gives it a soft squeeze. You can’t hold your moan in any longer, it’s light and croaky, your head falling back so the crown of your head gently knocks Namjoon’s nose. You want to give a snarky reply, ask where else he’s been dreaming to touch you, but his hand continuing to massage your boob along with his gentle thrusts take your breath away.

“I could come like this,” Namjoon says into your hair.

You grunt, your way of agreeing.

There’s a pause, both of your heavy breaths the only noise, and then Namjoon asks, “is that what you want?”

It takes you a second to register his tone, your brain too lost in pleasure. When you take in uncertainty, you pull away from him. His hand no longer on your boob, his hips still against yours. You turn to look at him, losing contact only long enough for him to place a hand on your hip.

In the darkness you can only just make out his features. His hairs a mess, his skin looks smooth, but you can still make out the short bristles of hair starting to pepper his chin. His eyes are round and wide, his lips a firm and nervous line.

This time it’s you that reaches out to comfort him. Your hand goes from the centre of his chest and runs a comforting line to his broad shoulders, squeezing a little in the hope of relieving some tension. Even beneath his t-shirt you can feel his muscles. You know what he’s asking, is this how you want to come, or do you want more? Not something you should be asking your best friend, hence the worry. This is new territory fraught with possible minefields for both of you. Who knows where the uncrossable line is for either of you.

You focus on your hand that runs between his neck and arm when you whisper the words, “what is this to you, Joon?”

Silence is your answer. At first you think it’s because Namjoon doesn’t want to confirm what your fear is, that this is nothing, an ends to a desire, that after this happens Namjoon isn’t expecting anything else. But when you take a leap and look at Namjoon’s face you realise it’s because he’s not fully understood the question.

“Is this just sex to you?” You whisper even quieter, as if, if Namjoon laughs you can play it off that you didn’t say anything.

Namjoon’s hand tightens on your waist and you’re unsure if it’s an unconscious move but he shuffles closer so his chest is brushing against yours.

“Not if you don’t want it to be.”

You’ve already done it to him, but you don’t like the way he throws the question back onto you. If this all goes wrong, you don’t want the blame pinned on you. Once again your eyes start to drift away from his face. Sensing his mistake Namjoon’s hand lifts from your waist, drawing your attention back to him as he cups your cheek not resting on the pillow.

“I’m not going to ask you to be my girlfriend straight away,” he looks to be trying to supress a smile as his eyes flick between yours. “But I will ask you if you want to go on a date?”

Your heart soars, catching in your throat making it impossible to speak. Nerves are still coursing through your body and Namjoon’s coy smile and gentle caress is doing nothing to help. It’s everything you wanted, and yet it still feels weird. You’ve dreamed of it for so long that now it’s coming true you can’t quite believe it.

“Why don’t we just sleep?” Namjoon continues. “We don’t have to do anything now.”

Your insides clench in protest, your treacherous hand tightens on his shoulder, giving you away. Namjoon’s smile widens.

You cough a little to clear your throat. “I thought you wanted a hand?”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifts, surprised. Even you’re surprised by the words. But honestly, is he joking? As if you’re going to come this far, grind against each other and then fall asleep as if nothing happened. Your hand moves down his arm, his throat bobs when your reach his wrist and before you can get past his hand, he reaches out to stop you.

“You never answered my question,” his voice has gone back to being thick.

Are you doing this? Your body screams yes, your heart aches for it, but something in your brain still wonders if it’ll be a mistake. But those thoughts are the ones that have stopped you from ever getting this far with Namjoon and isn’t he lying here telling you that maybe you could have been doing this well before now. Maybe you should just let go and not worry about the future for once.

“Have you got a condom?”

His eyes widen in shock once again and you laugh when he practically leaps up from the bed. You can see the tent in his boxers before he turns to start rifling through his bag. Smiling, you prop yourself up to try and get a better look at him.

“I don’t know how I should feel that you actually have one,” you joke.

He ignores you, continues his hunt for a couple more seconds before he finds what he’s looking for. When he has the foil packet in his hands, he turns to look at you.

“Thankful?” He suggests. “Grateful I carry spares in my wallet?”

“Worried you were hoping to hook up with someone on this trip?” You jokingly suggest.

Namjoon rolls his eyes with a smile before grasping the front of his top and pulling the material up and over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but it doesn’t stop you from gawking now. It’s not like you’ve ever seen him topless knowing that you’re about to have sex with him. And though you’ve always enjoyed the site of him bare chested before, it somehow doesn’t compare to now. Part of you wants to ask him to turn the light on so you can see his chiselled pains better.

“Pleased that the only person I planned on sharing a bed with this weekend was you?” He carries on in the same tone even though he must see how you’re checking him out.

You drag your eyes to his face. “We didn’t even know we would have to share a bed until we got here.”

He shrugs. “If the chance ever presented itself, I was prepared.”

What? You want to ask, but the word gets lost somewhere between the implication that maybe Namjoon has wanted this, wanted you, for longer than just tonight and him grasping his boxers and tugging them until the fall around his ankles.

Now you need the light to be turned on. It’s not like you’re struggling to see him in the low light, because honestly how could you miss him? His hands which have always looked so large to you no longer look so big as he wraps one around his hard cock and gives it a couple of strokes. No, you need the light to better see him. To commit this scene to memory. To see him in HD, in colour, in some form that’ll mean when you think back to this it’ll be as crystal clear as it can be.

While one of his hands grasps himself, the other takes the foil wrapper to his lips, his teeth sinking into the material and ripping it. It’s not util he has the condom over his tip that he looks up at you.

“You’ve not changed your mind have you?” His tone is still teasing, clearly your gawking has gone to his head. “I was hoping you’d also be naked by the time I got back over there.”

You’re not as confident as he was when you remove your clothes. You wait until his gaze goes back to watching what his hands are doing before you remove any clothing. Even then you take your pyjama shorts of first, your legs covered by the duvet. And when you lift and throw your top on the floor you lift your knees up to your chest, the duvet covers most of your skin.

A frown appears on Namjoon’s face when he’s finished rolling on the condom and his gaze is back on you. He doesn’t say anything as he kneels on the bed and starts to shuffle towards you.

“You not coming out from under there?” He asks.

“I thought you’d come under?” You respond.

“It’ll be too hot.”

“It’s too cold in the room.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Namjoon’s eyes stay on yours when you give in. It takes a second but you let the duvet drop from your body, knees still up against your chest you don’t reveal much of yourself. Your heart pounds even though Namjoon doesn’t look at you the way he saw you doing to him moments ago.

“Come here,” he whispers, reaching a hand out for you to take.

Only a foot away, it wouldn’t be much for him to come to you, but you oblige. Wrapping your fingers around his hand you unfold yourself until you’re kneeling in front of Namjoon. His eyes only flicker down your body, barely anything but his grasp tightens in yours and when he looks back at you there’s a storm behind his pupils.

“Last chance,” he says, already starting to lean in.

You close the distance, sick of how long this has taken. You want him.

Your arms go around his neck as your chest pushes against his. His hands go to your waist so when he pushes his weight into you he can more gently let you fall onto the bed.

“You’re sure?” He says breathlessly.

You huff a laugh, “just put it in.”

Your teeth clash against each other when he tries to kiss you when laughing. Both of you so happy and disbelieving that this is happening. Your bodies become a tangle of limbs and though you’ve both been so desperate to have sex, neither of you rush to do anything but make out.

Namjoon lets out a low moan when you move under him, accidentally rubbing your hips against his. When you do it a second time intentionally his hand pins your hip down. You smile into his mouth while he huffs a sigh and pulls away. Neither of you say anything, silently communicating through touches and looks.

Namjoon pecks at your lips, drawing away to look down at you between every touch. His hand leaves your hip, disappearing along with the weight of his body. His breaths grow heavier, not because all of his weight is balancing on his knees and single hand that’s resting next to your head but because the head of his cocks starts to drag its way through your folds. He adds a little pressure as he goes from your entrance to your clit. His movements slow but deliberate.

“I don’t think I’m going to last long,” he warns when he pauses at your entrance.

He doesn’t give you a chance to agree, his weight starts to press down on you, pushing his cock inside you.

“Yeah?” Namjoon asks when your let out a small moan, you head flopping back on your neck. He doesn’t stop until he’s completely inside of you and even then he doesn’t pause for long. His movements start slow, his body covering yours as he draws in and out of you in deep thrusts.

You never imagined him to be so verbal, but with other thrust he says something. Sometimes it’s as small as a grunt, but other’s it’s stating how great you feel, how beautiful you are, how long he’s wanted to do this to you. It turns you on more than you’d have thought.

The bed rocks under you with the increased speed of Namjoon’s thrusts. And though the headboard lightly bangs against the wall you wrap your legs around his hips, heels gently pushing him deeper into you. Pleasure builds inside of you, the closer you get to release the quicker Namjoon’s pace gets and the quieter and more focused he becomes.

“Want to feel you come,” he grunts his own personal mission, his forehead lightly banging against yours as he looks down between your bodies.

His hand pauses to squeeze your boob before training down to the bundle of nerves between you legs. He draws tight circles over the spot, his eyes flicking to yours as if to see what affect it has on you. You moan, arching up into him involuntarily, your lips brushing against his in a light kiss. He follows you, placing light kisses against your lips. But you’re too lost in near breaking point to reciprocate.

“That’s it,” he whispers against your lips. “Want to see you when you come. So fucking hot.”

You’re not sure what causes you to snap, could do scientific studies of the moment and still probably never work it out. But when you do snap, it’s euphoric. Your body convulses, pleasure coursing through you, the feeling elongated with the feeling of Namjoon still in you and his fingers still on you. You’re only half aware of the noise ringing around the room being produced by you. Your body not feeling like your own as Namjoon rams his hips down into yours in a few final punches, his lips now on your neck, the hand not on our core holding your shoulder to stop you flying up the bed.

It feels like it takes hours to come down from your high, your body still feeling light and air like when you become more conscious of your surroundings, Namjoon’s body pressing down into you as his now soft cock still sits inside you. Both of you are breathing as if you’ve just run marathons, your chests clashing against each other in your unsynchronised motions.

Namjoon pulls away first, not completely, but enough to look down at you. His face holds a small natural smile, his eyes bright, his cheeks flushed. He leans down to give you one final kiss before pulling out of you. When he turns and falls onto his back beside you, he pulls you under his arm, forcing your head onto his chest. You don’t complain.

His fingers run circles on your shoulder, gentle despite the heat still lingering from what just happened.

You feel his lips press against your head again. You smile onto his chest, it’s as if now he’s had a taste of you he can’t stop himself.

“I promise I’ll clean this up, just give me five minutes.”

You don’t protest. You’re hot and sweaty, the sheets are a mess under you and Namjoon’s still wearing his condom. You should at least sort one of those things one of those things out. But neither of you can bring yourselves to remove yourself from the others touch.

You’re not sure what the future may hold, but for now at least you know you made the right decision. Lying in Namjoon’s arms is everything you could have wished for.

#namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #bts smut

2K notes · View notes

divinelyparkjimin · 4 months

Text

— bodyguard [m] | knj.

◦ summary ↠ amidst a swirl of emotions sparked by a jealous encounter at a ball, it seems like guarding isn’t the only thing your bodyguard will be doing to your body.

◦ pairing ↠ namjoon x reader

◦ word count ↠ 3.2k

◦ genre ↠ smut, fluff, angst (barely)

◦ content warning(s) ↠ bodyguard au, daddysgirl!reader, bodyguard!namjoon, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, suggestive/explicit content, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm

a/n: it has been way too long but i am here :) enjoy!

masterlist

Your legs were glued together, fingers tracing the detailing on your dress as you trembled in the backseat of your dad’s car.

Why did I even agree to this? You couldn’t help but think to yourself.

Your dad was one strong man. Not physically. Not emotionally. But the man’s social status was beyond imagination. Since the man had grown up networking his way to success, he’d wanted you to do the same for yourself, rather than mooch of his own accomplishments. And sure, he could just be looking out for you, protecting you from becoming just another nepo baby out in the world, but you were too nervous for this.

One of the largest networking events in Seoul was to take place in about 30 minutes and you would not be saved from it. In fact, you were on your way there.

Your young, but fairly attractive bodyguard, Namjoon, had offered to take you. While the experience would be shy of a nervous wreckage, you were still relieved he’d be there with you. A single familiar face is better than none.

“You okay?” You were instantly interrupted in the midst of your thoughts. You could see Namjoon’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y-Yeah, sorry, I’m just super nervous about this whole thing.” You heaved a sigh. “How do I know if people will even like me after this? What if I just make a complete fool out of myself?”

You could hear a soft chuckle leave Namjoon’s mouth.

“You’re just overthinking, Y/N. I know you’ll do great.” The boy reassured you with a smile. You returned the smile before turning to your side to see you’d already arrived. The smile on your face quickly faded.

Namjoon got out of the car and scurried over to open your door, assisting you out of the car. Your legs instantly weakened as soon as you stepped out—the nervousness was definitely getting to you.

You stared blankly at Namjoon who was waiting until you’d situated yourself to continue forward. Seeing him out of the car, you gave yourself a moment to take in his appearance. The sleek suit he wore hugged his broad shoulders and emphasized his strong physique, something you never noticed before. His dimples were out as his lips curled upward into a soft smile. You realized you were probably staring at him a little too long and decided to break the silence.

“Sorry, haha, I’m ready to go now.” You straightened out your dress before putting out a thumbs up.

“As you wish, captain.” The boy cheekily nodded before turning to the side with his arm out to direct you ahead.

Upon stepping into the ballroom, you realized how fancy this place truly was. The ballroom unfolded before you like a scene from a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling, casting a cascade of golden light that danced upon the polished marble floor. Tables adorned with fine linens and sparkling silverware were strategically placed, surrounded by elegantly dressed guests engaged in animated conversations.

Upon your entry, you were immediately greeted with a bow and offered a glass of wine by a waiter dressed in fully white attire. You took the glass in your hands and made your way to your seat with Namjoon following closely behind.

The echo of your own name disrupted your thoughts as you plopped down into your seat. Startled, you looked up, and there, standing before you, was Taehyung. It took a moment for recognition to dawn, realizing that the familiar face belonged to a boy you used to be really good friends with in your younger days.

Back when you were 7-8 years old, you and Taehyung were inseparable, spending countless hours playing together. However, life took an unexpected turn when Taehyung had to relocate to Switzerland with his dad when you turned 13. The departure, though abrupt, was an inevitable change that left behind fond memories of your shared childhood adventures.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Taehyung said, placing a hand on your exposed shoulder before trailing it down to your lower back. Namjoon’s eyes instantly directed to Taehyung’s hand placement, a hint of sourness becoming apparent on his face.

“It really has, I was starting to think you might’ve died.” You joked, your playful tone cutting through the subtle tension.

“Hey, I wouldn’t die without telling you. We had some pretty great memories back then, you know?” Taehyung reassured you, but your attention was drawn to his lingering gaze, which traversed the entirety of you before settling back on your face. “You look great, by the way.”

“Thanks, I try.” You replied, trying to keep the conversation casual as you subtly shifted away from his lingering touch. The atmosphere held a mixture of nostalgia and the present with Namjoon’s watchful eyes capturing every detail.

“You know, I’m actually back in Seoul again. I’d love to meet with you sometime, maybe not with so many people around.” Taehyung suggested with an eyebrow raised. “You up for it?”

Namjoon cleared his throat, interjecting, “Sorry to bother, but I think Y/N is needed for something.” The interruption carried a hint of possessiveness but the huskiness in his voice was oddly attractive. “I’m sure she can get back to you later.”

“Oh okay, no problem then.” Taehyung seemed disappointed, but complied anyway, moving his eyes to you. “I’ll see you around then?” With two fingers, he flicked outward from his head to signify his parting before walking elsewhere.

Filled with curiosity, you turned to Namjoon. “What’s the thing you said I’m needed for?” The boy’s eyes widened slightly before he began to scrunch his face in a bit of discomfort. “I actually think I might’ve made a mistake with that, I apologize Y/N.”

“Don’t worry about it okay?” You replied. He nodded, unable to make eye contact with you.

Throughout the night you spoke to a variety of different people: people you’d known long ago, people you’d never met, and people you’d only ever think to meet in your dreams. After a long, tiresome night, it was finally time to head back home.

As you made your way towards the car, the air felt charged with an unspoken tension. Namjoon held the car door open, but there was a subtle stiffness in his demeanor. As you slid into the seat, you couldn't ignore the silent discomfort that lingered between you and Namjoon.

During the drive, the atmosphere inside the car was palpably different. Namjoon's usual ease seemed replaced with a quiet reserve. The hum of the engine filled the space between you, accentuating the unspoken tension. It wasn't long before you couldn't resist addressing the shift in the air.

"Namjoon, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle but concerned.

He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Yeah, everything's fine," He replied, but the unease remained evident.

"No, something's off. You've been acting a bit distant," you pressed, your intuition picking up on the subtle changes.

Namjoon hesitated for a moment, then admitted, "It's just... seeing you with Taehyung back there. I couldn't help feeling a bit... jealous."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, "Jealous? Namjoon, he's just an old friend."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I know, it's irrational. But seeing you with him, it triggered something. I guess I just... care about you more than I thought."

The revelation hung in the air, and as you processed his words, a warmth crept into your chest. "Namjoon, you don't have to be jealous.”

As the car eased into a secluded spot, the quiet darkness enveloping you, you couldn't help but voice the thoughts that had been lingering in your mind. The revelation about Namjoon's jealousy had opened a door, and now it was time to let your feelings be known.

"I have to admit," You began, a playful glint in your eye, "I couldn't help but eye you all night. You looked so good in that suit, and, well, I've always had a bit of an attraction to you, both emotionally and, I can't deny it, physically."

Namjoon's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and a spark of something else. The air between you shifted again, this time with a newfound acknowledgment of mutual desire

“You mind if I join you back there?” The sudden comment by Namjoon caught you by surprise and you could feel your cheeks grow hot. You nodded your head enthusiastically, moving over to make space for him in the back as he made his way over.

The back door opened and closed behind Namjoon who was now sitting right beside you, his face inches from yours. His intense stare remained connected with yours as you took this time to admire his face. Somehow, he managed to look even better up close. The soft creases into his face where his dimples were became visible as a small grin creeped upon his lips at the sight of you.

He seemed to be growing closer to you, nodding his head as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded back and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His hand cupped the side of your face, guiding you into a rhythm. The kiss was slow and passionate with a bit of roughness to it.

You both reveled in the sensation as your hands explored each other's forms. Your hand slid down his chest while you slowly pressed the rest of your body closer to him. Your leg was swung over his thigh, his hand gripping it tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Namjoon growled, pulling his face back to admire yours. His face was soon found buried in your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin beside your collarbone. You felt tingles as his tongue wet your skin, sucking harder and harder. He parted from your neck not allowing much time to pass before making contact with your skin yet again.

His hand that was on your thigh slid down your frame to lift your dress up. It was then that you could feel the warmth of his hands on your ass cheeks. He used the tips of his fingers to trace circles into your skin, shooting a stimulating sensation throughout your body. You whimpered out, thrusting your hips against his crotch as if to beg for more.

Soon enough, Namjoon’s hands found their way to the back of your dress, fingertips fixed on your zipper. He pulled it down and helped you remove the dress, eyes glued to your figure. The sultry look in his eyes was enough to leave your panties drenched, something he seemed to have noticed upon the removal of your dress.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Can I touch?” He requested, removing the suit jacket off his own body.

“Yes, please touch me. I need you right now.” You begged, your face scrunched up in ecstasy. Namjoon’s face brightened up at your keenness.

“Mind if I use my tongue? It’s dying to taste you.” His hands seemed to be a step ahead as they were already gripping the band of your panties, quickly pulling them down your legs.

As you were about to respond, Namjoon’s face was already between your legs, his tongue pressing right against your clit. A high pitched moan escaped your mouth at the sudden sense of pleasure that exploded within your body. Without warning, his tongue slid right over your clit yet again, before making tiny circles around the area. He’d tease around the flesh before swiping his tongue against it harder than the last time, leaving you moaning breathlessly.

“F-Fuck!” You screamed out in pleasure, grinding your hips against his tongue to accentuate the feeling. You pressed Namjoon further into your pussy with your hand that was placed at the back of his head, desperately wanting to feel more. He could feel your desperation and only went harder and faster. You could feel the tension slowly building up as you grew closer and closer to your release.

Your head was thrown back in delight and you basked in the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

“N-Namjoon, f-faster, please!” You could barely manage to get the words out, panting and moaning uncontrollably. Namjoon adhered to your guidance, quickening the pace and pressure of his tongue’s movements along your folds, focusing most of it on your clit. “F-Fuck, I’m close!” You whined, nearing your finish. Responding to your feedback, Namjoon decided to suck hard on your clit, something that seemed to just flip a switch inside of you. Almost instantly, you could feel yourself entirely give out. A profound, pulsating euphoria seemed to course through your veins, rendering you utterly consumed by the sheer bliss that embraced you from head to toe. You came.

“You taste so good, Y/N.” Namjoon pulled back with a huge grin on his face, licking his lips.

“Do I now? So when do I get to taste yours?” You teased.

“You want it?” Namjoon looked down to his own crotch where you could see a boner battling to escape his tight black dress pants. You nodded eagerly, not wasting any time before beginning to unbuckle his belt. Once you were able to get the belt off, you threw it off to the side to continue unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He slid them off his legs, left with his black boxers on. He hurriedly unbuttoned his dress shirt before nearly ripping it off his body.

With his shirt and pants out of the way, you were able to make out the outline of his shaft. It looked way bigger than you’d imagined, something you can’t help but admit to wondering about in the past. You found yourself near salivating at the pure thought of the man’s length, quickly fixing your hands on the band of his boxers.

“You’re quite the eager one, aren’t you? Why don’t you say please for me first, princess?” The mere usage of the nickname had your stomach erupting with butterflies.

“Please, Namjoon. Let me suck your cock.” Your enchanting eyes seemed to work perfectly on Namjoon as he placed a soft kiss on your lips before letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. Go right ahead, it’s all yours.” You pulled down at the band of Namjoon’s boxers, revealing his long, hard cock. It sprung out as soon as the band had fallen below it, as if waiting for your mouth to find its place on it.

As its outline had previously displayed, his manhood was indeed big. It had a slight curve to it and was a rosy shade of pink with veins taking shape along it. After indulging in your moment of admiration, you positioned your face before it, wrapping one of your hands around the bottom of his shaft. You looked up at him before proceeding, noticing the way his lustful eyes followed your every movement.

Wanting to start slow, you stuck your tongue out, gliding it along his hard member. You started with a small area but went back again, licking from the bottom of his balls to the tip. He let out a low grunt as you noticed his cock twitch in excitement. You quickened your pace, watching Namjoon’s face respond to the contact of your tongue.

“You’re so good at this, fuck.” Namjoon moaned, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were locked on you as he watched you have your way with his cock. After you’d gotten enough of the licking, you decided to go even further, placing your lips atop his throbbing hard-on. You could taste the pre-cum that lightly coated his tip, scaling his cock further into your mouth. You tightened the suction of your lips, bobbing your head up and down to a steady rhythm.

“You know, I never thought I’d get to see your pretty face on my cock.” Namjoon uttered breathily in a low tone. “I’m a lucky guy, aren’t I?” Too caught up in pleasing him to respond, you continued to suck and began stroking his cock at the same time to increase the pleasure. Namjoon was starting to grow close and you went faster, wanting to make him cum faster. Before he could finish, he pulled himself out to which your head turned up to stare at him with a confused look on your face.

“I’d rather save my cum for your pussy. Don’t wanna miss out on seeing you all filled up.” Namjoon placed a kiss on your lips before directing you further. “Lean back and spread those legs out, princess.”

You quietly but swiftly followed his directions.

“You’re on the pill, right?” Namjoon questioned, with a bit more of a serious expression. You nodded, allowing him to proceed. He positioned his crotch in front of yours before slowly inching his dick right into your hole. You moaned loudly upon his entrance, which was followed by several other thrusts.

The thickness of his shaft filled you up entirely, allowing you to feel its every detail and contour against your walls.

“F-Fuck your cock is so b-big!” You whimpered as Namjoon continued to slam his meat faster and deeper into your moist cave, with no sign of slowing down.

“Yeah? Tell me more, Y/N. I wanna hear how good my cock makes you feel.” Namjoon’s alluring tone had you captivated.

“I like how it f-fills me up! A-And how l-long it—aah!” You struggled to get any words out, but tried to remain compliant.

“It does fill you up, huh?” Namjoon smirked as you couldn’t help but moan out. He was relentless with his thrusts, going harder and harder. He didn’t seem to be tiring out whatsoever and was pressing further toward your g-spot with every thrust. The sight of his toned torso and thrusting hips into you was a view you just couldn’t get sick of.

“Fuck, Namjoon!” You screamed out as he slammed his tip against your g-spot. You could feel the contact of the flesh send tingles throughout the rest of your body and could only grow desperate for more. “Please, d-don’t stop, faster!” Your pressing whimpers only motivated Namjoon further. He seemed to really be getting the hang of it as he repeatedly hit your g-spot, helping you rapidly grow even closer to a finish.

“A-Ah, I’m close, Namjoon! I-I don’t think I can hold it!” You whinged as Namjoon thrusted even faster. Your moans grew in pitch and volume as you reached your climax, realizing that Namjoon had also reached his own when you’d felt a warm runny liquid seep out from your core.

You were left panting, as was Namjoon, the two of you left with the giddiest of expressions on your face. As the lingering bliss settled between you and Namjoon, a comfortable silence enveloped the air. He gently placed kisses on your forehead and lips, and despite the intimate moment, a hint of shyness crept in, painting your cheeks a rosy hue.

In the quiet aftermath, Namjoon broke the tranquility with a nervous laugh, his gaze meeting yours

"You don't think your dad will fire me after this or anything, right?"

a/n: unedited but i hope you guys still like! feel free to leave thoughts and comments woo

masterlist

556 notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 6 months

Text

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 14

[day fourteen: face sitting]

pairing: namjoon x f. reader

tags/ warnings: pwp, touched on insecurities, face sitting, namjoon’s a munch, grinding, pleasure dom joon

notes: smut essentially straight under the cut. also unedited so if there are mistakes no there aren’t <3

kinktober masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

There was the raw sort of lustful want from Namjoon at the mere thought of your thighs caged around his head, face pressed into your sodden pussy.

His cock stirs in his underwear as he watches you pull a shirt over your head, eyes flickering down to your ass; underwear clinging to your skin. Ever so pretty, Namjoon’s fingers itching to sink into your skin.

“Baby” he murmurs, deep rumble of his voice making goosebumps prickle down your arms.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, “yeah?” you turn to look at him. Body on autopilot when he beckons you over with a crook of his fingers.

Your knees sink into the mattress, hand slipping into his as you straddle his lap, pussy clenching when you press over his hard cock.

Your thighs squeeze around his hips, rocking forward ever so slightly as your panties start to slick up, hint of friction sending jolts of pleasure from your clit.

Namjoon’s hands brace against your thighs, watching down the length of his nose as you rut desperately against him, slowly working you up desperate enough. Because as much as he loved you smothering him with your cunt, you weren’t always so open to the idea.

Not because it didn’t feel good, but rather the insecurity of knowing you’d be literally sat on his face.

“Namjoon” you moan, fingers curling into the shirt he was wear, quick to lift your hips so he could pull your panties off after he taps your thigh.

His shirt rides up over his stomach as he drags your bare pussy over his honeyed skin, tacky with your leaking arousal.

“Want you to ride my face, baby” he groans, thumb pulling back the hood of your clit, pressing over the little bud.

You glance down at him, eyebrows furrowing in the slightest. And he’s sure a million thoughts are running through your mind as your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, pleasure slowly ebbing away as your hips stop rutting forward.

“Joon...” you start, voice barely above a whisper.

He hums, thumb rubbing circles over your thigh as he glances up at you, “Please, my love. Make a mess of me”

You swallow as you meet his eyes, Namjoon’s lips barely curling into smile, lazy at the corners as he feels you clench; new wave of slick wetting his skin.

“You know I’ll tell you if it’s too much” he presses on, “gonna make you feel good”

You don’t have to voice your insecurities for him to know, always so caught up in your own mind he wonders If part of the appeal is making you fall apart on his tongue. Mind so lust drunk you don’t dare think about anything else other than his tongue pressing you in places that have your toes tingling and stomach coiling in pleasure.

He lets you stew in your own thoughts for a moment, thumb pressing over your clit gently, sparking up that need for pleasure.

You push yourself up, scooting up his body until your legs cage his head, cheeks burning red as he eyes your pussy, tongue wetting his bottom lip.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” you ask, bringing his attention to your face if only for a moment before his hands are wrapping around your thighs, tugging you that little bit lower.

“I’m serious, Namjoon” you warn, “You better tell me”

“I will” he huffs, warm breath fanning over your folds, clit throbbing as he presses a kiss over your little pearl, tongue flickering out past his lips.

Your fingers curl over the headboard of the bed, toes curling as he brings you down over his mouth, lips sucking at your wet folds.

Your thighs shake a little as you try and hold the weight of your body, anxiety still pressing in the back of your mind, slowly fizzling to a phantom thought as he presses his tongue into you—hands curling around your thighs to fully tig you over his face.

He helps you rock your hips forward, moan slipping past your lips when his nose nudges against your clit. He swallows down everything you have to offer, starved of your essence as he lets it coat his tongue, deep grumble of a moan vibrating over your folds as he licks over your cunt.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, worry slowly melting to nothing but a lust filled haze as you start to use him to get yourself off. Namjoon’s cock twitching beneath the veil of his underwear at your evident pleasure, his name the only word falling out of your mouth between moans as your pleasure starts to build.

Ache in your thighs ignored as your stomach clenches, dribble of arousal painting Namjoon chin and cheeks as you rut your hips forward.

“Gonna cum” you whine, tugging his hair that little bit harder, pressing his face that little further into your cunt. Each exhale out of his nose tickles your clit, mouth tipped open in a silent moan as his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, own moan of shared pleasure sending you over the edge.

He swallows down your cum, tongue pressing flat between your folds as he sucks over your entrance, groaning at the heady taste of you. Slick and cum smeared across his lips and chin and just ever so messy.

Your thighs quiver as you try and escape his hold, pussy tingling in that slowly growing overstimulation as his lips wrap around your clit, suckling it, roundabout way to try and get you to cum again for him.

“Shit—Joon” you whine, chest stuttering for a breath, “No more”

“One more” he murmurs against your cunt, voice muffled before he’s pressing his tongue back into you, eyes closed in bliss as you leak a little more over his chin.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts kinktober #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts drabble

1K notes · View notes

kittyscupcakeandbunny · 10 months

Text

CRAZY OVER YOU x MIN YOONGI

[HYBRID AU]

PART ONE

Love at first bite

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior, medical experiments, meds.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

<< Previous Chapter. Next Chapter >>

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

My feet hurt. I’ve been running back and forth around the clinic way past my working hours already.

To be honest I think the assistants work more than the doctors, I should have gone home by now. My shift ended four hours ago. Yet i couldn’t go home.

Lately the clinic has been very busy, hybrids were coming in and out of the clinic to get treatment and the fact that so many rescued hybrids from the outside were coming, made the ones we had already been taking care of at the clinic agitated. With their higher level of hearing and smelling it was impossible to completely hide the different cents.

The world we live in is not the same anymore, we exists between hybrids. And I work in a clinic that takes care of them.

The biggest hybrid clinic in our city, is was more then just a clinic for hybrid species. It was a hospital, lab where scientific studies and research took place, and a clinic for treatments.

It was late at night when things seemed to have cooled down. I decided to drink some coffee at the cafeteria on the first floor.

Sitting down in one of the tables I put my hot coffee over it, taking the files of my patients for tomorrow morning in hand reading their appointments and preparing for it.

- yn! - I look up to see Hoseok, one of the assistants that worked on the especial cases.

- hey hobi - i greet him, he sits down in front of me looking more exausted than ever. - oh you look awful…

- don’t even tell me about it - he said - guess who was my patient today?

- no idea… - I tell him, taking a sip from my coffee.

- the snake hybrid - he said, I almost gagged in my coffee.

- no way! What is like? - i asked, the most special hybrid in our clinic was the rarest one. The black mamba hybrid.

- an asshole? - he said, I chuckled at him - no seriously, he’s so difficult to treat like he doesn’t eat because he doesn’t like the food, always complain about the people around him… and today, he bit my colleague be cause he didn’t like that way he smelled.

- he bit him? - i asked, completely amused.

- yes, he’s in the hospital by now - at his words I looked up at him worried.

- so… - before I said anything my phone start to ring. I sight tiredly - gotta go.

He only nodded understanding as I got up from my seat to leave.

- hey… - I say as I take the call. I threw the plastic cup of coffee in the trash can as I leave the cafeteria.

- boss is looking for you - he tells me. It was one of my coworkers.

- I’ll go then, thanks.

I turned off the call making my way to the elevators in the hallway. By boss he meant Seokjin, it was a nickname we all agreed on since he’s the director of the clinic. As I walked towards the elevators i kept wondering why he asked for me at this hour, Jin was usually so busy I could bearly talk to him not did I ever seen him having lunch break or any break at all. He always made sure the hybrids were well treated at the clinic and worked really hard for it.

From afar i notice Namjoon standing there in front of the elevator doors waiting for it, he was looking through some papers on his hand too focused to even notice my presence beside him.

- hey - i greet him.

- hey… - he reply, not looking my way. He had a hard expression on his features.

Once the door opened in front of us we both get in the elevator, me fallowing right after him. I press the bottom to the third floor.

- what is this? - I ask him intrigued, as he seemed completely focused on the paper to notice his surroundings.

- my new patient - he sighed now looking at me - he’s one of the rare hybrids we have and it looks like he’s going to get put down.

- what? Why? - I was genuinely surprised, rare hybrids were so special in the clinic one of them being put down could only meant one thing - is he sick?

- no - he said getting out of the elevator once the door opened at our desire floor, i fallow him - just an asshole.

- oh? - i was genuinely confused, but didn’t push him to tell me - You going to Jin’s office?

- yes - he said, lookin stressed - he called me to discuss this patient, what about you?

- He called for me but, I don’t know yet - i reply, we walked the long corridor till were finally standing in front of Seokjins office.

After nocking on the door and receiving a low “come in” from Seokjin we both made our way inside his office. Namjoon opened the door for me to get in first then he fallowed me behind, shutting the door. Jin sat on his desk, hands on his face as he covered his eyes in despair looking more tired than ever, a look i never thought I would see on his face.

- Jin you look… - he didn’t let me finish.

- I know - he sighted, now looking at us both in front of him.

- why did you called us? - Namjoon asked.

- I need your help with this rare hybrid case - He said.

Jin started walking around his desk to sit down.

- my father passed to me the responsibility of taking care of the… euthanasia of him.

- but why? - i asked.

- well… it’s been years and he never once put it in the effort to live - he said taking a few papers and giving it to me and Namjoon, the hybrid records - he’s not eating anymore, doesn’t get any heats, makes no effort on mating and doesn’t let anyone help with his shedding .

- Shedding? - i asked, so he means… the rare snake hybrid.

- yes. He’s now in your hands - Jin said, looking at me and Namjoon.

- you want us to do exactly what? - Namjoon asked - from the looks of it, doesn’t seem like we can do anything about it.

- you both will be working on this case with me, the big boss - he made a sing pointing up, signaling the higher ups, his father - found a female rare snake hybrid and he wants them to reproduce before euthanizing him.

I felt sick.

- are you kidding me?! - i said, stunted - you’re just going to… - I couldn’t even say it - after all theses years?

- I know that’s why i want you guys to work on it, - a long sigh left his lips - i only trust you both with this.

- maybe we can help him out and not put him down? - I tell him.

- believe me y/n - Jin looked at me deep in the eyes - we tried but…. Sometimes is better this way, is hard on him too.

I looked down at the papers in my hands.

Min Yoongi - snake hybrid.

Code: RED. Dangerous species. Specie: Black mamba.

Date of birth: Unknown. Male.

Current status: to be put down. Date: three months from now.

Resume: This patient needs to be prepared for a mating season as he had never had one, to ensure the precision and higher chances of reproduction of the rare hybrid species. The black mamba hybrid is to be taken care of from now to the time of mating, every side effect must be related to the one in charge of the case. To ensure assurance that this case will be dealt with assertiveness.

I felt sick.

….

I couldn’t help but think about it for the rest of the day. The fact that they would just give up on him after all these years of testing and keeping him lock up in here that he simply didn’t want to make any effort to live anymore, and how the clinic was just going to put him down not giving a single care about him for real.

They are going to end him right after they get him to reproduce, just to ensure they still have a rare hybrid of his specie. Another one to end just like him.

Looking down at the food in front of me I felt sick in my stomach at that. How could they?

- you look deep in thought - Namjoon said over me, he sat down in front of me after putting his tray of food on the table.

- sorry i just can’t stop thinking…

- about the hybrid? - he said - look I know you and I’m sure that’s why Jin chose you to assist me with this case but, let’s just make sure he at least leave in peace okay?

- okay..

No.

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did. You don’t know me Namjoon, I’ll make sure that hybrid lives.

No matter what it takes.

- we’ll meet him later right? - i ask him, he looks at me over his lashes as he holds his phone looking at it.

- yeah, after lunch - he takes off his glasses - are you ready to see the snake hybrid for the first time?

- yeah - I wonder what he looks like, most hybrids have some feature that help identifying what kind of hybrid they are. Does the snake hybrid has scales all over him? - he shouldn’t look too scary right?

Namjoon only giggle at my question, a knowing smile growing on his lips and my mind quickly realizing it.

- Kim Namjoon! You’ve meet him already! - i stated.

- of course I did, he had an appointment at six in the morning. - he said, a sight leaving his lips - What an ass.

- why so early? - knowing Namjoon hates waking up too early, he must felt stressed. Especially having to take care of a hybrid that demands so much more care.

- His sleep circle is different… - he started - and since we are trying to get him to feel the beginning of a heat so he can mate, his room was changed to acommodate him.

- oh… - realization hits me - so it will give the illusion of his heat beginning?

- yes, we also changing the room temperature to make it happen as naturally as possible - he said - the hotter the better.

- no way… - i said - I’ll have to work in hell too?

- trust me.. it doesn’t need hot temperatures to make it hell. - Namjoon looked at me - he’s good at that on his own.

- is he that bad? - he couldn’t be… right?

- I’ll let you see it for yourself - was all Namjoon said.

After lunch Namjoon passed me the instructions of our appointment with the snake hybrid, since he wasn’t eating he had to take vitamins straight into the blood.

To be honest i felt sad at that. You don’t eat when you don’t have an appetite, is he that bad in condition to not even eat? They’ve been neglecting him for so long and now are trying to force him to mate.

More and more i questioned if what i was doing was right.

I walk beside Namjoon towards the elevators, special hybrids stay on the sixth floor so that’s where we’re headed. They need to be separated from the other hybrids as their instincts are a lot more higher and demand more care, you can’t put cat hybrid in the same place you have a wolf hybrid. So we divided the floor for special species, wild hybrids in a floor and domestic hybrids in one. Of course there’s the special cases divided by codes, the snake hybrid was a code red which meant he was dangerous. Code reds are usually the hardest one to work with because they can and will hurt their doctors and especially other hybrids. Some don’t really mind the doctor but, other hybrids. Like a lion who sees a deer. They will always see them as a pray. So we have to keep them separate.

I look in front of me over the silver tray with the meds and vitamins he must take everyday, today Jin won’t be joining us he only will when much more serious procedures are to be taking action.

Namjoon is the one with the code to the hybrid door, each hybrid had their own room to accommodate all their individual needs. The snake room wasn’t different.

As soon as the door is open a heat of hot air hits me, the room is a bit dark but the lights get brighter as we enter, Namjoon walks towards the hybrid who lays on a big bed in the center of the room. Almost looking like a nest with all the covers and pillows around it.

I make my way to the table beside the door to prepare the meds and vitamins.

- good afternoon Yoongi - Namjoon says to the hybrid - time for your meds and vitamins.

- i don’t need it…. - a deep male voice says, the hairs in the back of my neck shivering at the sound of him - who’s is that?

He meant me. My heart skipped a beat at getting his attention. He is the first special hybrid I’ve ever meet. One of the most dangerous one too.

- that’s my assistant - Namjoon tells him, he’s talking about me - everything ready y/n?

- yes Joon… - i turn to him taking the silver tray with me.

Stopping in my tracks as I take in the figure of the hybrid. He didn’t look like anything i imagined, he didn’t have weird snake eyes and not was his skin full of scales like the reptile. He looked almost human… if it wasn’t for the almost unnoticeable scales on his neck that fallowed up to his ears so delicately, as he moved his head to the side eyes locked over my figure the scales shined a bit. A color of white pearl and soft grey.

He wore something different from what I was used to see on the other hybrids, while the others wore a type of pijama white clothing he whore silk shining bottom up shirt and pants.

Realizing i wasn’t moving and just staring rudely at the hybrid I quickly made my way to Namjoon to give him the meds. My checks burning.

- no - the hybrid said looking at Namjoon with a bored expression - i don’t like the way you smell… i won’t take anything from you.

- you still need to take your vitamins - Namjoon insisted taking one of the syringe from the tray.

- i said I don’t need it - the hybrid growls, coming closer.

- your condition tells me otherwise - Namjoon said to him, both looking at each other. The temperature seemed to rise even more as they looked almost like provoking each other. A silent fight.

The hyrbrid eyes found mine staring at his, he looked at me up and down no expression on his face. Than turned to Namjoon.

- she can do it - he said, a bored expression coming back to his features.

- she’s not in charge of that - Namjoon said, a stern lock on face - I’m the one who is, so get over it.

I looked at him chocked. He seemed angry. Namjoon who usually is calm and careful with his patients was now the complete opposite, he stood his ground and faced the hybrid as if trying to prove he was the Alfa.

And for the first time I was angry at him, not only this was a delicate case. The hybrid could attack if he felt threatened. That could only worsen the situation for the hybrid.

- I can do it Joon - i tell him quietly turning to him lifting the silver tray for him to take it. I gave him a nod of assurance. He looked at me than the hybrid.

- are you sure about it y/n? - he asked me, worry over his face now.

- of course i can - i assure him - I do it all the time.

His eyes locked with mine as he talked. I heard Namjoon sighed as he turned to me taking the silver tray from my hands.

Giving him a small smile I took the vitamins syringe, the hybrid stood in front of me opening his white shirt one bottom after the other eyes locked with mine to catch my reaction, I tried not give any reactions and keep my gaze eye level but it was impossible when he stood right there exposing his beautiful skin for me.

He wasn’t covered in scales as many would’ve imagine but definitely had a few on his ribs that fallowed down to his v line, just like before they shined a bit over the light a white pearl with silver. I gulped down eyes looking back into his as he stood in front of me reveling his left arm for me to aply the syringe. His eyes never once left mine, he had eyes so dark I couldn’t tell if there was any color in them black light the night sky.

I held his arm to insert the syringe into his skin, he didn’t move at all. During the whole processe he didn’t broke the eye contact. Cleaning the small bit of blood that came after taking the syringe off his skin. Namjoon gave me the next one, i apply it into his skin once again. After the last one, I cleaned and put a small piece of medical tape over it so it doesn’t bleed.

- I’m done… - i say, standing next to Namjoon. He gave me the tray and I took it to the table beside the door.

The hybrid began to bottom up his shirt. Namjoon look it up the papers for the hybrid next appointment as I took the small white cup with he’s meds walking back to the hybrid I held the cup up for him to take. He took the cup from my hand brushing his fingers over mine, his hand looking much bigger than mine, I kept my focus on that too nervous to look up into his dark eyes again. I held the water up for him, which he took it again brushing his fingers over mine. He drank it my eyes fallowing up at his neck starring at the scales over his skin. They looked so delicate almost like a painting over his skin, closer you could see that little silver that shined over the light. Not realizing he came closer until I felt his breath hitting over my face, making me look at him immediately. Dark eyes staring into mine with boredom, he tilted his head to the side coming closer inspecting my face.

- you’re not afraid? - he whispered, only for me to hear. My breath got stuck on my throat.

- should I be?… - I whispered back, swallowing hard. He looked down at me than back into my eyes, tilting his head to the other side black orbs staring deep into mine i fallow his move tilting my head to the same side. Complete hypnotized by him.

- any changes in your shedding? - Namjoon asked the hybrid, while writing something down on the paper. - it should have started already.

At hi voice I came back to reality, turning quickly with the two cups. Taking them to the table beside the door to despose of them int he trash can.

Making my way back to stand beside Namjoon once I was done, my eyes going back to the hybrid standing in front of us.

He had the same expression as before, unbothered.

- same as always - he answered tiredly, going back to his bed.

I saw the way his plain answer made Namjoon clench his jaw. He wasn’t making any effort to cooperate with Namjoon, I notice he was difficult but not an asshole. It was painful to watch them interact, Namjoon clearly didn’t like the way the hybrid acted but, I have dealt with a few difficult hybrids before this was only a way to protect themselves after going through so much.

This behavior seemed to be common with Wild species, I’ve seen it before with a lion hybrid I took care of before.

Sometimes you just have to be persistent, and careful.

- I heard it could be painful if not taken care of, is everything alright with it? - i asked this time, which made both males look at me.

The hybrid looked at me not saying anything for a while. Than he smirked and walked towards me making Namjoon stand closer to me protectively. He looked at Namjoon smile slowly falling forming into a bored expression again, showing how the presence of the other male affected him.

- I don’t want any of your help with it - he said, eyes locked into mine - last time…

- you almost killed one of our doctors - Namjoon interrupted the hybrid, one arm closing around me to put me back.

Almost…

- he shouldn’t have touched me - the hybrid said eyes burning over Namjoon, anger on his face.

Hands closing into fists, he walked closer to us standing in front of Namjoon. He was ready to attack if needed, if something is not done it could end very badly Namjoon doesn’t notice but with this behavior he is provoking the hybrid to act instinctively.

It is clear that the heat season has started for him and in mating season hybrids tend to get more competitive and sensitive, a male showing up to his space staring dominance wouldn’t do any good.

- you both stop - i said releasing myself from Namjoon standing between them both, turning to the hybrid I said - please, Yoongi let me treat you okay?

He didn’t like when people crossed his boundaries i get that, sometimes it could be very overwhelming. But knowing what they are going to do to him because of that behavior, i just couldn’t help but get in between them. It was something we could work out and maybe if i succeed they won’t put him down anymore.

- it is important that you go through your shedding the easiest way possible - i tell him - so I’ll be in charge of it okay? How is that?

He looked at me for a while, slightly turning his head to the side. Pundering the idea in his head. For some reason he looked me up and down before looking at Namjoon behind me, a small smile making its way to his lips.

- only if is you - was all he said before going back to his bed.

A sight of relief leaving my lips, even though I cloud feel the stare of Namjoon a glare over my back.

…

To say Namjoon didn’t like that idea was an understatement. He hate it.

Insisting it was a bad idea to proceed with hybrid treatment by myself, that could be dangerous not only that but the fact that the hybrid had poison on his teeth just like a snake would. It wasn’t lethal but enough to cause discomfort, and it was what had happened the last time they tried to help with his shedding.

But that didn’t changed my mind. Not after I actually meet him, it seemed to me he didn’t want any one close that felt threatening to him. He wasn’t just any kind of hybrid, not a dog that loves attention and touch but a snake one. Snakes always acted out when feeling threatened. Attacking was their only defense.

So it made sense to me that he would be reluctant to let anyone get too close, especially after heaving so many tests on him without his consent. He’s been so mistreated and now they want to put him down.

It angers me.

I decided to chose an hour where i knew Namjoon would be busy in a meeting to do that. No long after we had left the hybrid room he began to lecture me on how dangerous Yoongi could be, that i shouldn’t act like that when he was the one in charge of this case. It slipped his mouth that the clinic simply started to give him vitamins when he stopped eating so he wouldn’t die.

It came to me how neglected he’s been this whole time. After that i decided to secretly go to the hybrid and feed him, which was where i was headed now.

I made sure no one was around once i stopped in front of the hybrid door. Using the number code I saw Namjoon used before to open the lock on it. It made a sound before opening.

The hot air hitting my face as I entered, they had turned higher this time it was hotter than before. The lights slowly began to light up as I walked in, the door closing behind me automatically.

At that the hybrid came up from his bed looking confused at me. Of course. I shouldn’t be there.

- hey - i greet him. He doesn’t say anything.

I walk up to him, stoping in front of the nest looking bed. A sing of his heat starting. That was a good sign. He held himself up with his arms looking my up from the bed.

- why are you here? - his voice was low and heavy.

- I just… - I trailed off as he fully lifted his body form his laying position, now sitting on his bed. Shirt open and sliding off his shoulders, not showing much but enough to see his scales.

He looked me over his lashes checks a bit red and sweat falling over the side of his face.

- i brought you something… - a sight left his lips - are you okay?

- yeah… what did you brought me? - his curious dark eyes following my body as I came closer.

- it’s tangerines - i say, showing him the two fruits i held in my hands.

- what’s a tangerine? - he asked eyeing them closer.

- you don’t know? - i gasped. Sitting beside him i slowly began to open one in a half giving it to him, he smelled before looking at me not knowing what to do.

- I never seen one… smells nice - he said.

- you eat it - i tell him, taking one and holding in front of his lips. He didn’t move at all, only looked at me.

For a moment I thought I had crossed his bounderies, for a moment I thought I was just being stupid. But then it came to me, he hasn’t eaten in years. He don’t even know what a tangerine is.

Maybe he didn’t even felt hunger anymore. Maybe he’ll throw the stupid fruit at me.

My checks were getting warmer as I felt nervous but, slowly he smelled the fruit in my hand taking a careful bite of it. Still looking at me, the juicy fruit spilling a bit in my fingers.

I watched him expectedly, wondering if he will like it or hated. He swallowed and looked at the fruit in my hand.

- that’s good… - he said. I sight of relief left my lips.

- you want more? - i asked him, he nodded slowly making me smile.

He didn’t move a single finger to eat though, I had to feed him the two tangerines the whole time. It didn’t bother me though, I felt so happy seeing him eat something other then taking those vitamins.

It means so much in the process of a hybrids treatment that they are feeding themselves, i couldn’t hold my happiness as I watched him.

Once he eat all of them he looked at me then at my hands, dark eyes shining under the light.

- sorry it was all I got - I tell him. - I’ll bring you more if you want.

- you will? - his eyes shining bright as he looked at me. I nodded at him.

- can i ask you… why you don’t eat? - i said, he doesn’t look at me turning to look at the floor.

- I don’t… feel like it… - he simply said.

He looked so sad now. No appetite wasn’t good. When in the absence of sickness it could only mean he was very depressed. They wanted to put him down because he was depressed.

I wouldn’t let them.

- You don’t seem to mind me around you… - I comment.

- you smell good. - he said, turning to look at me - and delicious, like tangerines.

I chuckled at his comparison. He watched me attentively, a different light on his dark eyes now.

- okay… I try my best to take care of you - i tell him. For a moment he only stares at me.

Red checks and bit of sweat on his chest, he turned his head to the side still raring at me. I fixed my glasses feeling a bit intimidated by his deep stare.

- You… - before he could end his sentence the door opened.

Namjoon entered the room looking at us confused, his eyes falling over my presence there. I shouldn’t be here. It’s what I read in his eyes.

- yn? - he asked, confusion clearly on his voice as he walked closer to where I was with the hybrid.

- Oh hey I was just… - i tried to make up an excuse but he cut me mid sentence.

- Leaving, right? - he interrupted. I swallowed nervous. He was never hard on me, hearing him be like that wasn’t nice.

- Yeah… - i murmured, taking the fruit peels with me as I got up from the hybrids bed.

- No… - Yoongi held my wrist stopping me, turned to look at him but he stared at Namjoon.

- You have an appointment with me now, it doesn’t include y/n so let her go… - for some reason Namjoons way of putting what he was doing there made me nervous.

I know he would never hurt a hybrid, but yoongi was very reluctant to any one else being too close to him. Namjoons display of dominance could make him defensive and things might not go well.

- maybe I could help - i tried to sound calm.

- y/n, your here to assist me not take over the procedures - Namjoon tells me, his words sending a sharp sting in my heart.

I couldn’t find words to reply his. Too embarrassed by his words to me in front of the hybrid, i bit into my lower lip. Not looking at them.

- Let her go yoongi - Namjoon said walking towards us.

At his words I realized Yoongi was now standing behind me, hand still around my wrist. His slow breathing hitting my shoulder. I lifted my gaze to Namjoon who now seemed a bit worried. But the hybrids closeness to me wants what made me uncomfortable.

- Yoongi… - Namjoon warned.

- Joon don’t - I tell him holding my hand up for him not to get closer - can you wait a bit?

He looked at me reluctant before nodding, still not taking his eyes off the hybrid. I turned to Yoongi slowly, a small smile on my lips as I stared into his deep dark orbs, to make sure he knew I was fine.

- Are you okay? - he asked me, I looked at him surprised. - he hurt you with his words.

I couldn’t hide my surprise at his words, he could tell from just that?

- It’s okay… I don’t care about his words - I whispered o him, giving him a small smile.

I tried to take my wrist from his hold but he didn’t let go, not to hard to hurt me. I could tell he was being careful not to use his full strength on me.

- Will you came back? - he asked, eyes looked into mine.

- Of course. - i tell him.

With that he let go of my wrist.

I turned to Namjoon taking his arm to leave the hybrid room. He reluctantly fallowed me towards the door of the room. Once we were both outside I kept my hold on his arm taking him with me around the corridor towards the elevators.

- where you taking me? - he asked, as if nothing had happened earlier.

- To Seokjin, we need to have a talk - i tell him, anger boiled over me.

- We? - he pushed his arm out of my grip - You’re being the irresponsible one not me!

- I’m!? - I stopped in the middle of the corridor, turning to him anger building up through my body.

- Yes! - he stated, closer to me - Do I need to remind you of your position here?

- Do I need to remind you of your stupid ego standing between the safety of a hybrid and your pride?! - i yell at him.

At that he went quiet.

- were talking with Seokjin now. - i state - I won’t let you make this whole processe more difficult than it has to be just because of your pride.

I held his arm again, taking him with me to the elevators. He didn’t say anything else anymore, I could tell he was angry but so was I.

The whole time he was only stating dominance over Yoongi, I was tired of them all thinking that could just hurt the hybrid even more now just because she was going to be put down.

I wouldn’t let them.

The walk to Seokjins office was quiet except for the tense energy around us, once I stood in front of his door I don’t bother to nock. Entering with anger burning under my skin.

Seokjin gave me a curious look, as he was folding some paper on his desk.

- sorry Jin - i say. He looked at me and Namjoon a questioned look on his face. - we need to talk about Yoongi.

- oh, right - he says - what is it?

- She’s being… - Namjoon started, but I interrupted him.

- Yoongi has been showing clear signs of discomfort with male doctors - at that Namjoon scoffed, I looked at him angry turning my gaze to Jin as I continued - he say he will do the appointments as long as I’m the one closer to him.

- I see.. - Jin thinks for a moment before continuing - what’s the problem?

- Namjoon is not letting me - i tell him, arms crossed over my chest.

-She just went into his room without any one knowing and… - Namjoon began.

- And gave him food - i say, looking at him. We both shared a look of hatred before Jin interrupted.

- What? - Jin asked.

- He eat… - I tell him.

- He… he eat food? - they both looked at me surprise.

- Yes, I’m sure I can help a lot more with this case if you let me take charge of the procedures that involves more… closeness to him, he’s been through a lot and seemed more calm around me.

- I see… - Jin pondered the idea first - then as long as you’re not alone for safety reasons, I don’t see a problem with you taking charge of his appointments.

- But she’s.. - Namjoon says, but is cut by Jin.

- Namjoon, y/n has been taking care of hybrids for years she knows what she’s doing, please I need you both working on this together - Jin says, sounding tired.

Namjoon only nods.

- any updates about him? - jin asked.

- i can tell that his heat i starting - I say - his behavior at least shows me that.

- okay… we’ll than we are almost there - Jin says - keep that good work and please, do this together.

- thanks jin - i tell him, he gives me a nod and i make my way to leave the office.

Namjoon stayed behind. I didn’t payed much mind to it. Quickly making my way out of there walking to the elevators, I had a lot of work to do other than Yoongi case.

More patients that needed treatment just as badly, not the he wasn’t just as special to me.

…..

It was late at night again.

I wasn’t planning to staying late again but, a hybrid was just checked in after being attacked by a another wild hybrid. The same case has happened before, that is way wild hybrids where never up for adoption. Yet some people always manage to get them, usually never for good reasons.

The poor hybrid this time was a bunny one, I was surprised when I first saw him. Usually bunny hybrids where the smallest species to exist but, this one was big. Not too tall but very muscular and strong.

When he was checked in he was still in defense mode, attacking every one and very scared. They had to apply a sedative on him to finally be able to put him on his room.

You could guess my reaction after I was told the story and short after that, Hoseok told me I was the one in charge of his case.

My shift ended hours ago and yet here I was cleaning cuts on the face of a bunny hybrid who seemed to know nothing about shutting up.

- such a pretty doctor I have.. - he said, a smile on his lips as he looked at me.

- Jungkook stop talking I’m trying to apply the med on your lip… - i tell him for the fifth time already, he only chuckled.

I sight taking a clean cotton with med to clean the cut over his eyebrow, he was sitting over his bed as I stood between his legs to clean his bruises.

He shouldn’t be awake. He was sedated before but, no long after he was wide awake and talking none stop, he commented on my but and how lucky he was to be treated by me.

I only sighted. That was knew. Usually my patients where too scared to be treated at first. So I just brushed off his comments.

Jungkook was abandoned when younger by his last owner, he then grow up in an underground fighting club where clandestine fights were held. He told me he was the best one there, a lot of people bet on him at the fights until he got in trouble with this one wolf hybrid.

- how did you end up here again? - I asked him.

- I was… - his checks went red and he looked down - to be honest I’m still.. ah, I was in heat…

- oh.. - I looked at him, still no understanding. He was shy, ears dropping beside his head.

- I was trading to mate but… so was the wolf… - he said.

- but you’re…

- she wasn’t like me… - he tells me, realizing what he meant I felt a warm wave up my checks.

Different species trying to mate, that was the first time I heard that, the underground has a lot going on than.

- well… it could happen - I say, making sure I cleaned every bruise on his face - here in the clinic we help our hybrids with all their needs, so don’t worry.

- oh.. will you treat me than doctor? - he asked, amused.

- yes, you’re my patient - i tell him, taking his file to prescribe him his medication and future exams.

- humm… - he only murmured - doctor are you in heat?

His question gets me by surprise and I look at him, mouth opening and closing. Just what was going on now? Did he perhaps hit his head too?

At my expression he chuckled one arm closing around my waist as he pulled me closer to him, I gasped feeling his nose against my neck. Not knowing what to do I held my hand up in the air, too afraid to even touch him. The smallest reaction could start something I wasn’t intending to.

- I can smell in you… - he says over my ear, my checks burning hot - hum, ready to be filled…

At his words i tried to push him, hands over his chest only to find his eyes staring deep into mine his checks where red and pupils full. It hit me. He was still on his heat.

That explains his behavior the whole time. How could I not notice earlier?

- you’re still in heat - i state. He only chuckled.

- am i? - he came closer to kiss me but i immediately pushed him down the bed - oh, I like that… doctor you’re making me fall for you…

I ignore his nonsense as I made my way to grab a sedative, bunnies were the hardest ones to deal with when on their heat, first I would have to put him to sleep before giving him the medicine to lessen his heat. At least till we are done with his treatment. Then we would put him to mate the right way.

Coming back to him I stared at him think where I would apply it, he didn’t stop moving. I stood between his legs holding the sedative behind my back.

- Jungkook… - i tried to get his attention, he looked at me immediately- I need to do something for me okay?

- yes pretty doctor- he tried to get up but I quickly held his chest down, he smiled at me. He looked as if he were on drugs, high on his heat.

It could only mean things were getting worse, he wasn’t on full rut but was getting there. It would be impossible to treat him if he’s on rut.

- don’t move okay? - i tell him, his hand held mine over his chest as he nodded.

Without him noticing i insert the syringe into his thigh, he’s so into his heat to even notice the pain.

I count ten seconds in my head before releasing my hold over his chest, he doesn’t try to get up.

- oh I’m sleepy… - he says, hand falling from mine as he closes his eyes slowly going into deep sleep.

A sight of relief leaves my lips once he falls asleep. I prepare some medicine to calm his heat, I wasn’t a fan of suppressants but in this case is needed. Just until we are done treating him. Than I’m sure he will be put into mating process so he can have a safe and healthy heat.

After I’m done giving him his medicine, I write it down his next appointment and a new prescription.

Leaving the room I sight, my right hand massaging my neck. I look over my phone to see the time realizing it was way past eleven. Walking down the corridor to the elevators, my ringtone woke me up from daydreaming about my comfort bed.

- yes - o took the call.

- hey y/n - it was Jin - did you check on the special hybrid?

- wasn’t Joon going? - I said, confused at his words. He told me he would.

- no he head an emergency at home and had to leave - Jin explained, I sight.

- oh, i will than - i tell him.

- you seem tired y/n do you want me to go instead? - he offers.

- no is fine… - i tell him - he die a know you yet, it could make things difficult.

- okay - Jin says - call me if anything happens.

- I will, thank you.

I turn off the call, getting in the elevator. I push the bottom to the floor of the special hybrids where. My eyes feeling a bit heavier, I tried to push it away. Just one last check up and I can go home.

The elevators doors opened at the floor, the sound waking me up from my tiredness. I quickly made my way through the long corridor with doors to Yoongis room.

Pressing the code on the lock beside the door, it opens making a sound. The hot wave of air hitting my body as usual once i made my way in, the lights slowly turning back on.

Once they’re on I made my way to his bed, panicked at not seeing him there or any sing of him at all.

- Yoongi? - i call out his name, locking around the room but still no sight of him.

My heart begins to beat faster, as my mind runs different scenarios of what might have happened. Worry filling my body as I throw the papers i gel in my hand on the floor, taking my cellphone to call Jin as I turn to leave the room.

Still with eyes locked on my phone i don’t notice the lights slowly turning off, nothing takes my attention from the cellphone until arms close over my wrist turning my around.

My phone falling on the ground as he pushed me against the wall, both hands holding my wrists over the wall above my head.

- Yoongi?! - I stared into his dark orbs, relief filling me up. - I thought something happened to you…

He didn’t said anything. A hard look over his features, I couldn’t decipher what it meant. He held me tighter coming closer to my face.

- why do you smell like trash? - he spat.

- what? - I was so lost.

I knew I worked late but, is not like didn’t look out for myself. Working at the clinic I had to make sure I was always clean. I couldn’t understand what he meant.

- you stink of male rut… - he spat at me, hissing at the end. Eyebrows furred into an angry expression.

I should’ve thought about that before coming here stray after treating a hybrid on heat, shit. Knowing how Yoongi was sensitive about others males I should’ve at least put on some perfume.

- it’s not like that… - i tried to lessen his anger but it only seemed to make it worse.

- I don’t care… - he pushed himself away from me - don’t ever come back here smelling like that again…

- I won’t - i tell him, still not moving I watched as he walks back to his bed. - im sorry, I didn’t have time to… wash this off.

He doesn’t say anything, sitting on ver his bed he looks at me from afar.

- tomorrow will start your shedding treatment… - i tell him, still not moving from my spot.

At the smell of another male it was better did I kept my distance so it wouldn’t be too overwhelming for him who had a much higher sense.

- i just came to check on you, to make sure…

- come here - he interrupted, he voice sounded heavy almost a growl.

I would be lying if a said I wasn’t afraid, my phone was lost somewhere in this room and I had no way of calling for help if something happened. Although I knew he wouldn’t do something to hurt me i couldn’t be sure, the situation was a lot different now.

I could say something but, his instincts would say another complete different than mine.

Still I made my way towards him. Stopping a few steps away from him.

- closer… - he sighted. Dark eyes looking me up and down.

I gulped down, making my way closer to him. Stopping in front of him.

He looked up at me boxers getting up from the bed, close enough to kill me if he wanted to.

- was it a patient of yours? - he asked, voice low and raspy. He meant the smell.

- yes… - i manage to whisper, I felt so small in front of him. Like a pray.

- you’ll see him again? - he asked, taking a step closer. No distance between us. His breath hitting my face.

- yes… - i tell him, my eyes finally looking up at his.

He only nodded understanding.

- I don’t like this smell on you - i says, making me gulp down as i looking into his eyes. - but i understand…

He pushes me against him it happens so fast, once I notice he is pressing me down on his bed. Both his legs on each side of my hips, he held my arms up against the nest of covers and sheets.

Keeping them up he slides his hands down my arms over my sides, one finger playing with the bottoms of my shirt.

- you look healthy… - he murmurs eyeing me up and down.

- what…

He didn’t let me finish. Opening my shirt he went down over my chest, I gasped in surprise. Turning my face to the side, I expected anything except what he did.

I slowly opened my eyes at the feeling of his hot breath over my neck, my own breath got stuck in my throat the moment I felt the wetness of his tongue sliding over my chest up my neck.

- what are you doing? - I asked, my voice was only a whisper.

- taking that disgusting smell off you - he said over my neck.

- oh…

- but you’ll see him again… - he said, I turned to look at him.

- I have to, his my patient - i explained.

- than this won’t do… - he whispered more to himself, one hand holding my chin up he slowly turned my face to the side.

With my neck on full display for him he came closer, this time whispering over my ear.

- have you ever been bitten by a snake?

At his question my mind rushed with realization, my heart beating faster as his lips brushed over my skin. I tried to move my legs but he only used his body weight to held me down, my hands over his shoulders trying to push him away were quickly held up over my head with his left hand.

He chuckled at my useless try’s to get away from him.

A gasp leaving my lips immediately at the feeling of his sharp teeth carving my skin, tears filling my eyes at the painful sensation of his teeth inserting his venom on me. His hands slowly leaving his hold over me, i couldn’t move.

Once he took his teeth out of my skin, I groaned in pain. Feeling the warm liquid fall down my neck, he licked over the bite. Hand holding my chin to look at him.

- don’t worry… it will feel good soon - I looked up at him, his voice was a whisper in the dark.

My mind felt dizzy, vision getting blurry the heat of the room wasn’t helpful. My whole busy was burning, I tried to push him away but as soon as my hands came in touch with the silk over his skin my entire body responded, a wave of electicity coming up from the tips of my fingers to my whole body.

- Yoongi…

My eyes began to get heavier and heavier, hands falling beside me as I fell asleep.

Not before I felt his warm finger trace my jaw softly, his voice so far away I couldn’t make out what he said before I fall completely asleep.

Am i dying?

Next?

Notes: YES FINALLY!! Hehe I’m sorry for any grammatical typos! ☺️💖

Taglist: @blue-and-grey-army @crystallizedtime @fairywriter-oracle e @dancerninjastudent-blog @rosquilleta @celticcountrygal l @m4gg13-g @alexxa013 @unadulteratedlyunique @kpopmultistantrashsstuff @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @slinekyu @yoongislatinagff f @pandafuriosa60 @kimsonlyluv @jiminbluerose @serialkillerattracterhopefully @slut-4-yourmom @illnevertrustmyselfagain @bangchanbabygirlx @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @totorokokorostar @ievaantane @momnomnom @honsoolgloss @kimtaehussy @amariemoore @starrlo0ver @missmin @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe e @catlove83 @taegicity @ginger-coffee-addict @rosquilleta @tarahardcore @liveyun @manuosorio @thvlover7 @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna a @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky @i-am-invisible-for-you @dancerninjastudent-blog @blablase @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @watermelon2319 @totorokokorostar

1K notes · View notes