userjiminie · 1 day
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Moments that hit me the hardest during the 'INDIGO' Album Magazine Film
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jinstronaut · 3 days
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HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY KIM SEOKJIN (김석진) ! 04.12.1992
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gimmethatagustd · 3 days
Mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter / Which me do you want? / The one to change your world, I'm your filter / Overlay me in your heart / Can you feel it now? Is it still not enough?
» pairing: idol!yoongi x reader
» genre: BTS | 18+ | drabble | idol au | comfort | fluff
» wc/date: 1k | December 2022
» warnings: none aside from poor bby yoongi having an identity crisis
» note: i think this is cute so i hope you do too 🥺
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You were ripped from sleep (abruptly ending your dream about becoming the president and legalizing weed) by the sound of glass breaking. Your phone told you it was nearly 3 AM and the cold sheets on the side of the bed where your boyfriend was supposed to be told you the crashing and cursing were coming from him. 
There probably should have been a stronger sense of urgency in the way you climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen, but you were so fucking tired it was hard to think straight. The medication you took to help with your insomnia made waking up particularly difficult, especially in the middle of the night. 
Yoongi stood in the middle of the kitchen. His cheeks were bright pink, and half of his dark hair was pulled into a small ponytail, the rest of the strands falling against the tops of his shoulders. Small shards of glass were scattered around him on the floor. A bottle of Hennessy sat on the kitchen table, but you chose not to linger on that. 
“What the fuck are you doing, babe?” You rubbed your eyes with your fists and blinked hard in the artificial light assaulting your vision. 
Yoongi only scowled. 
You hated when he got like this. How were you supposed to help him if he didn’t tell you what he needed? 
With a sigh, you retreated to the hallway to get a broom and dustpan from the closet. It was difficult to sweep up the shards with Yoongi still standing in the same spot, but you did your best to get the larger pieces. 
Once the large shards were disposed of in the trashcan, you turned to the kitchen sink to grab a paper towel. Just a bit of water was needed to make the paper towel damp enough for your liking. Yoongi continued to stand, eyes trained on the wall, while you crouched at his feet. Slowly sweeping the damp paper towel across the floor collected the rest of the glass shards that were difficult for you to see, the tiny ones that were likely to cut into his feet. Yoongi always walked around barefoot, another thing you hated. Men’s feet were weird-looking. That was just a fact. 
Satisfied with your work, you threw away the paper towel and resumed your stance in front of your boyfriend with your arms crossed against your chest and your eyelids heavy. 
“Gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” 
It seemed the time it took for you to finish cleaning gave Yoongi the time he needed to calm down. His was was no longer twisted with frustration, though his new expression was just as sad. He was exhausted, but you already knew that. How could he not be? A decade of being run into the ground for the sake of his art and his fans and making the company filthy rich would exhaust even the strongest people. 
You definitely knew you wouldn’t be able to hang. Capitalism was a scam. 
“I don’t know what the fuck they want from me,” he said with gritted teeth. You thought he was going to explain himself further, but after a few moments of silence he held out his hand. 
With a sleepy smile, you pulled Yoongi against your chest and ignored the smell of alcohol that clouded your senses when he exhaled against your hair. He curled his arm around your waist and held the back of your head with his other hand. Everyone joked about Yoongi being small, but one hug from him was enough to prove that he was solid and sturdy and safe. 
“Who, baby?” 
“Everyone.” The softness of his whisper made your soul ache. “We go over the songs, they said it sounds too Agust D. I rewrite, rerecord, go over the songs so many fucking times. Suddenly it’s too SUGA, too BTS. They want something different than “D-2”, different than “That That” and “Girl Of My Dreams”, but then they say I’m straying too far from what fans are used to. What is the fucking album supposed to be, Y/N?” 
You nuzzled your face against his collarbone and waited, knowing he didn’t expect an answer. After half a heartbeat, he was continuing. 
“Is this an Agust D album or a SUGA album?” He squeezed you even tighter. 
“What kind of album do you want it to be?” 
It seemed like an obvious question, but Yoongi tilted his head down to look at you with wide eyes. 
Fuck, he was so cute. Was it wrong of you to think he was cute while he was trembling with anger and exhaustion? Eh, it was probably fine. You’d gotten super fucked up at the “Jack in the Box” party and Yoongi had to take care of you while you puked in the bathroom. He’d said you looked cute then. You threatened to throw up on him. 
“I want it to be a Yoongi album,” he said softly. 
“Then make a Yoongi album. Fuck everyone else!” You pressed a quick kiss against his neck and then hopped away from him before he could swat at you for purposefully trying to tickle him with your kisses. “Well, don’t fuck everyone else. Just fuck me.” 
Yoongi rolled his eyes, but his hands searched for you again. Grabbing your wrists, he pulled you back against his chest, crushing you so hard you could barely breathe. It was fine, though. He needed touches, skin-on-skin contact, a reminder that he wasn’t alone in all of this. 
“A Yoongi album…” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “I’ve spent too much time creating for other people.” 
You hummed in agreement, snaking your hands beneath his t-shirt to hold his lower back. 
“It’ll fucking kick ass, Yoong. Everything you produce kicks ass. You’re a genius.” 
Yoongi huffed at that, but the gummy grin gives him away. “I said that one time.” 
“One time was enough. It’s out in the universe now. Plus, Genius Lab?? Excuse me, it’s right there.” 
“Leave me alone,” he whined, pulling you even closer. He couldn’t let you go even if he tried. 
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freyarchive · 3 days
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-- ♡ some of my favourite moments from his weverse magazine
src ; int1 ; int2 «click for HQ»
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chateautae · 1 month
stretch you out | knj. & jjk. (m)
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banner by the lovely kiri @rkivian !! <33
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➵ 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)
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“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. 
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“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.” 
 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 :)
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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.”
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  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. 
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  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.” 
 “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. 
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 “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 ;)
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  “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?” 
 Brewing with indignation, you clench your fists. “What else is he saying?” 
 “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. 
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  “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?” 
 “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.
 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. 
 “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.” 
 “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. 
 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. 
 “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. 
 “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. 
 “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. 
 Your sleepy tone causes both Namjoon and Jungkook to swivel around, Jungkook gripping your hand back. “Y/N? Are you okay?” 
 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. 
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starcatching · 1 month
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JIN 진 | THE ASTRONAUT 🚀 (2022) "I worked really hard on the music video for 'The Astronaut'. We filmed it in the US. It's about me from another planet wandering in space and making a crash landing on Earth. Now I have to go back to my home planet. It's a music video about the journey of an astronaut who decided to stay on Earth with loved ones and precious things."
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jhsgifs · 4 months
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avizou · 23 days
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the whole world is blue under the moonlight
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joheunsaram · 3 months
pretty hallucinations (jjk)
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summary: Drunk words are sober thoughts, and now Jungkook knows all of yours — even the ones about him. And you know what they say, once a secret’s out, it’s hard to take it back.
word count- 3.9k 
pairing- best friend!Jungkook x Reader
rating- PG 15
genre- f2l, idiots in love, fluff, slight angst, slight crack
warnings- reader is wasted, jungkook is a softie, SO MUCH PINING, mention of bondage and spreader bars lmfao
a.n- a birthday fic to celebrate my favourite bunny! happy birthday jk! this fic came to me after I read a scene in ten trends to seduce your best friend that had me cackling. read that book if you enjoyed this, that ones a real f2l slow burn hehe
special s/o to @daechwitatamic for beta reading, helping with the summary, and leaving the most hilarious comments on my doc haha I will cherish them forever💕
As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌
The room was spinning. A kaleidoscope of colours twirling in the air and you couldn’t help the bitterness rising through you. This used to be your favourite place, a library you had created after years of collecting your favourite words. Systematically organized, it seemed now that a hurricane had passed through.
Well, after ten drinks, you were nothing less than a hurricane. Books with their once perfect spines laid dog-eared and haphazard. You couldn’t find it. Couldn’t find the perfect words for the moment. There was always supposed to be something for every emotion in your collection.
Some may think losing yourself in fictional words was cowardice, but to you it was a reprieve. Reality was boring. In the real world you were just a nerdy overgrown virgin who would never confess your feelings to a man — to the man. In reality, you would always be the girl who talked big about sex and hid behind bravado instead of ever opening yourself up to the vulnerability that came with it. The real you was a phony.
Stumbling with your fingers wrapped around the bottle of whiskey, you meandered to the opposite wall, pulling romance novels off the shelves. They would have answers for your predicament. Wasn’t that the purpose of them? To show how the characters overcame their fears?
The words blurred but you lost yourself. You were Catherine sharing your love but having it misconstrued, leaving you to misery, a death of a life never fully lived. As you read Heathcliff’s grief, daring you to haunt him, he transformed from the Englishman to someone too familiar, his proper attire morphing to the comfortable baggy black shirts and giant stomping boots. His dark eyebrow manifested a silver barbell, his eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare. Ebony tendrils grew from his fingertips, running up his right arm until they formed shapes as intimate as your breaths. Tiger lillies and eclipses and snakes and clocks and words so dear they played as a melody on your lips.
And then Jungkook’s words transformed from the enraged howling of ghosts to silence, his lips parted in shock as his eyes looked at you with pity. The memory was visceral and it forced your hand to tip the bottle against your lips, your tongue coating in the warm bite of liquor. Yet, it permeated through, the single moment of bravery you had been saving your whole life coming back to haunt you.
He had a friendly arm around you, the two of you laughing at the television screen as the characters finally confessed and Jungkook shook his head, chastising them for not coming clean sooner and saving him the trouble. The innocuous words gave you the courage to share a secret ten years in the making.
A simple I like you.
But unlike the characters who were living their happily ever after, Jungkook sputtered, moving away with an awkward laugh, shattering your heart into a million pieces. The distance was a chasm growing wide with his questions and the lifetime of bravery fizzled much quicker than you anticipated.
“I should’ve never opened my stupid mouth,” you lamented, tossing back another searing gulp, books digging into your back as you stared at nothing. Nothing that spurred into a familiar shadow making you cackle at your imagination. It really was better than reality.
Because in your imagination, Jungkook crouched in front of you smelling like fresh laundry that made you hazy. His fingers caressed your face, moving the curls that had spilled from their usual tight bun atop your head to frame your face. But even an imaginary Jungkook wouldn’t give you your happy ending.
Moving your hair away, he smiled, helping you up. His voice was gravelly when he spoke, a novel rasp that you wanted to pluck from the air and store it next to your array of books.
“Your mouth is not stupid,” he chuckled, an arm around your waist as he moved you from the library to the kitchen. You refused to look at this hallucination, instead focusing on the tiles that you had handpicked for the kitchen. Small white ones. They had a pattern in the middle, cobalt outlines of squares interwoven together to form stars of the skies.
He deposited you on the stool next to the breakfast nook and placed a glass in front of you. Condensation trickled down the glass to the island and before your clumsy hands could do any damage, your figment picked the glass and placed it on a coaster. Of course he knew what to do, imaginary men were perfect.
“I’m not imaginary, Trix,” Jungkook answered your inner monologue, amusement lacing his tone. But his mirth did not placate you, there was no way Jungkook would seek you out after he stomped on your heart. Your best friend was not that cruel. Not intentionally at least.
“Trix are for kids! Don’t call me that,” you whined, your words mumbled by the glass that he held to your lips. With the coldest glare you could manage, you stared at him as you finished the drink, refusing to acknowledge how soothing the cool water felt trickling down your throat.
“But they’re your favourite, Trix,” he retorted, bemused before running a hand over your head. You wanted to chastise your heart for skipping a beat at the platonic touch as he mussed your hair but you couldn’t help it. This always happened. You hated that he used that nickname, an inside joke that did nothing other than give you false hope. It was cute when he started. It made you flush to your toes and stutter over your words, but it was unfair how he could easily give you a pet name when your boyfriends had trouble coming up with anything that didn’t make you wince.
“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” Your voice wobbled as did you when he helped you up, moving you towards your bedroom. Tears still streaked down your face, stuffing your sinuses with regret as you leaned against his infuriatingly hard body.
“I’m taking care of you. I always take care of you,” he answered. “Watch your step.”
His answer made you fume. Why couldn’t you feel this way for Jimin? He was supposed to be your type, flirty and loud and unafraid to go after what he wanted. In comparison, Jungkook was just a shy, awkward teenager who showed more emotions when he lost a game of League. Sure, what if the way Jimin called you sugar was a little cringey, it was better than babe or doll!
“Those are all terrible pet names, Trix,” Jungkook commented, his grin audible even when you refused to look at him. All you could do was weakly punch his arm, missing wildly while he steadied you on your never-ending path to your bedroom.
You missed your bed. Your mattress was the most expensive thing you owned. Jungkook had given you a lot of shit for spending a pretty penny on it, but it was like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and plush that you could just sink in and forget about everything.
And you really needed to forget the humiliation of Jungkook’s rejection.
“I didn’t reject you. You were drunk, Trix. You didn’t mean it,” Jungkook answered your thoughts once again. “Also your bed is very comfy so I promise not to annoy you about wasting money again.”
He was laughing at you and you couldn’t help but grunt, turning around and placing a clumsy hand on his chest as you steadied yourself. Your eyes met his and you hated how you melted a little at their sparkle. He always had the prettiest eyes, round with expressive mocha irises that burned your heart. Even his lashes were pretty, long and curved like he was a newborn fawn made to be fawned at. Gathering your drunken thoughts, you came to a single conclusion.
Honesty. Best case scenario, this Jungkook was just imaginary and would disappear soon. Worst case scenario, he was real and since you had already humiliated yourself, you couldn’t dig a deeper hole.
“I did mean it! I love you, you dumb idiot,” you announced, your words surprisingly clear. Yet Jungkook still laughed, rolling his eyes as he settled you into bed, telling you again that you were drunk. But he didn’t understand and he had to understand.
“I’ve been in love with you since I saw you play in that dumb ultimate frisbee match when you were a freshman. When you lost your cool at that concert when a guy tried copping a feel. When you gave me a hug when my mom was in the hospital and everything seemed okay for a little while. I love you, Jeon Jungkook. I’ve always been insanely in love with your stupid, dumb face,” you ranted. Kneeling in front of you, Jungkook’s smile wavered into a concentrated frown, brows bunching together before he was smiling again and shaking his head.
“You love me, but you don’t love love me, Y/N,” he countered, making you groan in exasperation, hand coming to his mouth to silence him. Sometimes you hated him.
“You don’t get it, Jungkook! How do I even–” you sighed loudly, grabbing his shoulders to make him understand. But if your words wouldn’t work, maybe someone else’s would. “It is at moments after I have dreamed of the rare entertainment of your eyes, when (being fool to fancy) I have deemed with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise,” you quoted your favourite poet, eyes stuck on his. “Do you get it now?”
Jungkook stared at you for a moment, awestruck in a way that made you want to lean in and kiss him, but kissing without consent was bad, especially if he was looking for a way to reject you again. You still had at least some of your pride. And then he was laying you back and tucking you in, crushing your heart in his palm till it was dust that pricked your eyes, making them dry and watery all at once.
“We’ll talk about this in the morning, Trix. We shouldn’t when you’re not sober,” said softly, fingers running on your scalp before tracing away your tears. With all the alcohol in your system, your filter was off and all you had was misery.
“Can you at least just stay before you reject me? I need a hug,” you whispered, heartbeat accelerating when he climbed in next to you, engulfing you in his arms. He was so warm. Like your favourite blanket shielding you from the cold in the middle of winter. He needed to know the effect he had on you and even though you were feeling the drowsiness from all that whiskey, you wanted to let him in. He had to understand.
“I know you think I love you platonically. I don’t. I really don’t.”
Jungkook exhaled loudly, moving away so only his forearm acted as a pillow for you. Lying on his side he looked at you, eyes tracing your features as you tried your best to keep yours open.
“You’re drunk. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said finally. With mere inches between you, you felt your face heat, your thoughts pouring over your tongue without your consent.
“Jungkook, do you know what a spreader bar is?” you asked, staring at him as his eyes widened. He blinked slowly a few times before landing on his back, looking straight at the ceiling.
“Jesus… yes, Trix. I know what that is.”
“I want you to use it on me,” you continued, loose-lipped and hazy. There was no chance you’d remember this in the morning so why not just go all out and let him in on your fantasies. “Tie me up and bend me over. Fuck me so hard I forget my name. God, I wanna be pinned under you so bad.”
“Stop. Fuck… stop, please,” he whispered, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek in a way you only saw when he was angry. Was he angry? Is that why even in the dim light of the room you could see his ears slowly turning red?
“Still think I like you platonically?” you asked, tone much more mischievous than you had planned. “Would you choke me? Make me lose my breath as you kiss me or will you be nice and gently hold my jaw when you kiss me? I think about that a lot, you know.”
He groaned, his free arm coming to rest over his eyes. He seemed resigned and somehow that made you grin, especially when he sighed loudly before speaking. “Fucking hell Y/N… please just go to sleep.”
“I wanna feel your tongue between my thighs and—“ Before you could finish, he turned, a hand coming to rest gently over your lips.
“Sleep! You need to go to sleep!” he exclaimed in a panic that made your nerves tingle and your stomach warm.
“Why?” you mumbled against his fingers before he removed them.
“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too,” he replied in a whine that was equal parts adorable as it was surprising. Did he say he loved you too? What a ridiculous concept! You were positive you were imagining him now.
“Wow, you really are a hallucination,” you giggled. This was a nice dream. You liked how all the edges of light were soft in it, how it seemed as if you were floating in bliss. Dream Jungkook was amazing. He felt so real. You wished you never woke up. Especially when exasperated by your chuckles, his arm wound around you and pulled you close, plastering you to his body.
“Does that feel like a hallucination to you?” he rasped, his exhale hitting on your forehead. His comment diverted your attention to the weight poking against your stomach. You wanted to rub up against him but your body felt heavy, powerless against the haze around you.
“Go to sleep now,” he ordered softly and you couldn’t help how your eyelids fluttered shut at his words. Drowning in his scent of fresh lavender laundry, you felt safe and coddled and finally sleepy.
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” you asked, needing the confirmation that the comfort of his arms wouldn’t disappear, even when you sure he was just a figment of your imagination.
“I’ll be here, Trix. Go to sleep.”
“I love you. I really do, you know,” you assured him, getting a giggle in response.
“I’m starting to believe you do, yes.” You felt his lips land on your forehead, so soft and warm that it felt as if falling into slumber was the easiest thing to do. You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling in closer, enjoying the steady beat of his heart as he whispered once again.
“Good night, Y/N.”
Your head was pounding when you woke up. A drummer having its solo, double bass and all. With a groan you opened your eyes to an unmade bed and curtains wide open to the infuriating morning sun. Needles prickling your throat, you say up only to be interrupted by the smell of bacon, the heavenly grease so inviting that your dry mouth watered instantly.
Why was someone making bacon at your home? Last you checked you lived alone.
Slow as molasses, you got out of bed, your eyes zoning onto the glass of water and a few painkillers sat on your bedside table. Without further ado, you drowned the glass, the relief near instant.
And with the relief came the memories. Whiskey. Wuthering Heights. Jungkook. Confessions. Spreader bars. And Jungkook’s words that were no longer so innocent in the morning light.
“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too.”
Holy. Fuck. Was that real? Did Jungkook really just confess to you? Did you really feel him when he pulled you close last night?
All semblance of a hangover dissolved in the sudden adrenaline rushing through you, pumping your heart into a frenzy that propelled your legs to carry you to the kitchen. Jungkook stood at the stove, frying bacon as he hummed something under his breath. You stared at him as he worked undisturbed, frying bacon, before snapping his fingers and rushing to the plastic bag at the end of your breakfast nook.
You had decided to watch him quietly but as soon as he pulled out the red box, laughter bubbled through you, effervescent and fizzling. He stared at you, joining you with his own giggles as he walked over waving the box of cereal.
“Trix for my Trix,” he said with a grin that scrunched his nose and made his eyes disappear. So cute that your heart skipped a beat and your filter disappeared.
“So I made you hard?” you asked, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Perhaps you were still drunk. Jungkook on the other hand just chuckled, bowing his head and running his hand over the nape of his neck. His dark hair fell into his face, covering the blush you loved so much.
“Yeah. Yeah you did,” he confirmed sheepishly.
The silence between you was a little stunted; awkward and too long for people who were meant to be best friends. Before long, Jungkook was distracted by the task of making breakfast, his attention on the pan as he cooked scrambled eggs and bacon, plating them for the two of you. The silence continued as you ate, but you weren’t one to hold your tongue for too long, wanting to just rip the bandaid off and address the very giant elephant in the room.
“Can you please reject me already? This is too embarrassing,” you bemoaned, trying to drown the prickly heat that climbed up your neck with orange juice. Jungkook’s fork paused on the way to his mouth, his eyes large and alert. He swallowed loudly, placed the fork back on his plate and then cleared his throat.
“I… I’m not gonna reject you,” he said softly, his tone so gentle it made you curl your hands into fists to brace yourself for the opposite. “I just… I still can’t believe you love me too…”
You always read about how time slows when you are having a stroke. But you were also meant to smell burnt toast and right now other than the smell of the delicious breakfast in front of you, there was nothing suspicious. Yet, your heart was racing, your palms were sweating and you could feel your legs quivering even when you were sitting down.
“Too?” you asked in disbelief and he nodded, smiling but infuriatingly quiet. Slamming your fist on the table, much to Jungkook’s amusement, you glared at him. “Please spell it out like I spelled it out for you,” you seethed.
“Yes, Trix. I love you. Ever since you walked into my dorm room two days after we met, pulled the plug on my PC, made me lose my ranked game and demanded I go outside and make new friends,” he teased with an eye roll.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes. If you stayed last night instead of running back here and reenacting Doctor Sleep, we could’ve talked it out,” he grumbled, the smile still ever present. With a shake of his head, he stood up, making his way over to you and pulling you up from your seat. Eyes blinking and hands shaking, you looked up at him, your skin burning where it touched you – one hand on the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck. His thumb caressed your jaw as his eyes traced over your face.
You felt light headed, your breaths too quick to catch, each nerve ending sparking relentlessly. You bit your lip in an anticipation that only made Jungkook move slower, leaning closer and closer till his nose was brushing against yours lightly. His lips barely touched yours and you were frozen, relishing his breath on your skin, fingers curling into the material of his shirt on his chest.
“Kiss me,” you requested, earning a giggle from your tease of a best friend.
“Okay,” he whispered, finally sealing your lips. It wasn’t the rough kiss of your fantasies, nor  gentle innocence of your daydreams. It was searing, tilting your world on its axis. It felt like he was breathing fire into you, yet your whole body was erupting into goosebumps. It felt like colours bursting in the wind.
It was life changing and you wanted more.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood on your toes to deepen the kiss and he easily acquiesced, his arms fitting perfectly around your waist. His lips moved against yours, the tip of his nose grazing ever so lightly against your cheek. When you moaned against him, too overwhelmed to see anything but stars, he picked you up and placed you on the table, easily fitting between your legs. With a hand on your neck, his thumb gently pulled at your chin till his tongue met yours, making you shiver so violently that he broke away with a laugh, his forehead resting on yours as he caught his breath.
“More,” you asked and his lips met yours once again. This was better than anything you could've ever imagined. You didn’t know how long you kissed, but all you knew was that you never wanted to stop. Especially when he nipped your lower lip in a way that sent a current zapping all the way down to your toes. And then his lips slowed until he was pecking at you, once, twice, three times, his hands cradling your jaw.
Dazed, all you could say was, “Are you going to fuck me on this table?” and Jungkook laughed, loud and boisterous, hugging you to his chest. And what a great chest it was.
“But don’t I need to go get a spreader bar and some bondage tape for that?” he asked with a grin, kissing your forehead, once, twice, three times.
“I mean… we could do that next time?”
“If you think after years of being in love with you, I’m going to let you have your first time on the kitchen table, you are sorely mistaken, Trix,” he replied, a finger coming up to boop your nose.
“Virginity is a social construct!” you protested, but Jungkook just shook his head, kissing away your complaints.
“You fell in love with a romantic, so let me romance you,” he whispered, hands tangled with yours, his words sending a warmth through you.
You never thought you would be someone who would enjoy being romanced. But when Jungkook drove you to the park for your first date with a picnic he had packed from his early morning grocery run, he proved you wrong. Sitting on the grass with Jungkook’s arm around you, you thought about all the books in your collection, and how with their endless words they still couldn’t capture the glow of your love fulfilled.
Perhaps reality was better than pretty hallucinations after all.
taglist -  @awhnamjoon​ @alpacaseoks @raplinesmoon @codeinebelle @aislinnstanaka @miscelunaaa @moonchild1 @shydestinyyouth @itsjaneeet @piecesofapril11 @yoontaethings @jeonyreads @pb-n-juju @everythingaboutfangirling
Thank you for reading this fic! If you liked it, please tell me your thoughts. I appreciate your feedback! 
Please reblog and check out more stories on my masterlist <3
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heybaetae · 7 months
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bon appétit 🦟
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userjiminie · 2 months
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jungkook, about jimin: [he’s my] all-nighter friend. all the time, it’s just the two of us doing something at night. i don’t know what we do.
(2016 festa jungkook’s relationship chart)
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jinstronaut · 18 days
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your monthly dose of bts : BONUS, ot7
day 17 / 30 (cr. namuspromised)
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gimmethatagustd · 10 hours
for the spotify number game - #69 🤙 with our Yoongi please and thank you 😬
Do you got whores? 'Cause I'll be one / Going all night like the reruns / I wanna see some ass / I wanna see some ass / Baby, can you do it like that?
» pairing: rapper!yoongi x (f)reader
» genre: BTS | 18+ | drabble | non-idol au | groupie with benefits | smut
» wc/date: 1k | December 2022
» warnings: alcohol | marijuana | public sex (i guess?) | fingering
» masterlist | AO3 | send me ur thots 👅
» notes: when i saw that this song was #69 i HOWLED
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“C’mere, hold still.” 
You held your breath as Seokjin poured vodka into the dip of your clavicle, the cool liquid making goosebumps spread down your arms. 
When the other girls stripped their tops off, you’d done it, too. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because your stomach twisted in on itself while you watched Yoongi sit on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. His sharp eyes gazed at the other girls with a predatory look that made you shiver harder than the vodka in your collarbones. Maybe you’d wanted him to look at you like that. 
Yoongi’s tongue licked across the seam of the blunt he’d just rolled at the same time you felt Seokjin’s tongue run along your neck. When he reached the base, his plush lips covered your shoulder. It was an odd sensation, Seokjin sucking the vodka from your clavicle. He swirled his tongue around your wet skin and you knew it would still be sticky later. 
“Hyung,” Yoongi grunted, smoke unfurling from his nostrils. One of the girls held her mouth open, chin tilted toward Yoongi. He grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer and blew the remaining smoke from his mouth into hers. It was careless and wasteful; he hardly let her lips touch his before he was turning back to Seokjin. 
Seokjin detached his mouth from your neck. “What?” 
The older man snorted and gave you a little push that had you stumbling forward on shaky legs. You shouldn’t have had so many shots, but you wanted to keep up and everyone else here seemed to have a higher tolerance than you. The hotel room was big; you’d never been in a suite like it before. Even though you shouldn’t have been surprised you were. You’d followed the other girls when they left the afterparty, ushered by Yoongi and his entourage into discrete black cars that took you to their hotel. There was his manager, Seokjin, now sucking on a new girl’s neck. Jungkook was another rapper who opened for Yoongi. He had two girls flanking him, the three of them lounging on one of the couches. They took turns kissing; it was so wet and sloppy you could see tongue and practically hear the smacking sounds their lips made over the music playing from the Bluetooth speakers. Jungkook’s performance had been cool, but you’d really only come for Yoongi. 
“Princess,” Yoongi murmured with a sleepy drawl in between hits. He reached for your hand, exchanging with Seokjin his blunt for you. “You like the show?” 
“Of course,” you insisted, letting him pull you into his lap on the bed. His large hands immediately ran up the back of your thighs to push up your skirt until he could palm the bare skin of your ass. You found yourself pushing against his grip and shivering when you felt his fingers tease at the waistband of your thong. 
“I’m glad we ran into you. After all your DMs, I was hoping we would.” He leaned forward to kiss your chest, trailing kisses down until he was sucking a mark into the tops of your tits. 
Your hands flew up to tangle in his platinum-blonde hair, but the mention of the messages you’d sent Yoongi on Instagram made you immediately shift to hide your face in your hands. 
“Oh god, I’m sorry. It’s so embarrassing.” You were drunk when you tried to sext the rapper the night before his concert. 
“It was fucking hot.” One of his hands slid around to rest on the inside of your thigh. 
“I’m sure you get that a lot.” Your breathing came out shaky as one of Yoongi’s hands slipped between your thighs, the other still palming your ass. 
“I do, but never from girls with an ass as great as yours.” 
You squeezed his shoulders when he pulled your thong to the side to lightly trail his finger along your clit. His bloodshot eyes flicked up to look into yours as he slid his finger inside of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, even after he began pumping in and out of you. It was embarrassing how wet you were getting from such a simple action, enough that Yoongi was soon easily slipping another finger inside you. The hand on your ass pulled you forward and back, forcing you to grind into him as he fucked you with his fingers. 
“Yeah?” His response was breathy and his lips fell open with the utterance. When he noticed you were looking at his lips, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, shooting you the gummy smile you’d always wanted to see in real life. 
A high-pitch squeal and Seokjin’s laughter snapped you out of your daze. You scooted closer to Yoongi’s waist and sat further down on his lap, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. 
“They can see,” you whispered in a small panic that made your heart thud in your throat. 
“They’ve seen worse.” 
Yoongi slipped a third finger inside you. He pressed hard against your front wall and began pumping against it hard enough to make your thighs jiggle. You pressed your face into the top of his head, hoping to use his hair to muffle your moans. 
“This isn’t my room.” You could feel him grin against your throat. “Wanna take you to mine. Fuck you real good, that cool with you, princess?” 
The cocky raspiness of his voice, paired with the feeling of his teeth grazing against your collarbone where Seokjin had sucked vodka from you, made you cum so abruptly you gasped in shock. 
“Gah, Yoongi-yah! What did I tell you about-” 
Yoongi glared at his manager from around your body. You couldn’t tell, but you were sure he was giving him a dirty look. 
“We’re leaving.”
Yoongi wrapped his arms beneath your thighs and stood up, keeping you held against his chest. You were thankful; you probably wouldn’t be able to walk anyway.
The girls draped over Jungkook’s body looked up long enough to wave you goodbye, knowing twinkles in their eyes. You may have gotten more than you bargained for. 
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all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3
do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work 
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rumue · 8 months
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Ink Series - 4/? Part 3: here
-like/reblog ☑, do not repost!-
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chateautae · 5 months
maybe i do: “one week without sex”
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➵ summary: when a small, petty argument spirals out of control, you and your husband settle on one solution to the problem; betting who can last the longest without sex. it won’t be easy, but you and taehyung are equally determined to win, and you’ll both stop at nothing to secure your victories—even if it means playing dirty. 
↳ part of the maybe i do series!
this drabble can be read as a stand alone, but it is highly recommended to read the series!
➵ pairing: ceo!taehyung x wife!reader
➵ genre: arranged marriage!au, established relationship!au, smut, minor angst, fluff
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 20k
➵ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption (both parties are able to consent), constant sexual teasing, high-class gang cameo!!, getting caught in the act 👀, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, D/s relationship, dom!tae, sub!reader, big dicc!tae, heavy making out, breast fondling, choking, finger sucking, male and female masturbation, sexting/phone sex, use of a sex toy (vibrator), exhibitionism + voyeurism (with each other), drunk sex, rough, needy sex, riding, hitting it from the back, impregnation kink, creampie <3
➵ a/n: and here it is!! again please excuse the ridiculous word count, i’m attempting to work through writing a sequel for the maybe i do series, so these “drabbles” are just me experimenting with the content! i’ll provide more details when I can heheh <33 thank you endlessly to my wife @amourtae​ for beta-ing!!! i hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated!
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“You’re gonna be late, honey, be quick.” 
“Who cares? I am not leaving you.” 
Taehyung’s hips bang against yours as he delivers precise, quick thrusts. The slapping sound of skin resounds erotically inside his office, even more so your laboured, hot breaths. 
“You need… to go faster, baby.” You manage to pant, fingers weaving through his thick, fluffy locks, rutting your perky breasts against his dress shirt. Taehyung’s desparate digits dig into your thighs as he plunges his cock inside you, each time burrowing further into your velvety, pulsing sex.
Deep, satisfied grunts leave Taehyung’s mouth just by yours, obsessed with your little breaths. He dips down and kisses you, long and deep. Your ass practically bounces backwards across his office desk when he accelerates the speed of his thrusts, propelling into your pussy as he devours your mouth. 
“Tae... the meeting...” 
“I’m trying to make a baby with my wife,” Taehyung ruggedly breathes, lips hot on yours. “A meeting can wait.” 
“You’re already-ngh, fifteen minutes late, ba-by.” You warn him, clutching around his neck for dear life as his cock slams inside you, ceaselessly throbbing. 
How you ended up in this erotic situation? You didn’t expect what Taehyung labelled a quickie to morph into a scene straight out of porn—your outfit for today apparently tempted your husband beyond his control. 
His salacious eyes told you a carnal tale once you visited him for a minor report check, and now your boobs lasciviously jostle against him, spilling out of your top he stripped open, your panties carelessly flung across his chair. 
Taehyung spent his precious, limited window of time before his meeting happily licking and sucking your nipples, dirty-talking you about the hot milf you’ll become once you’re carrying your child; and now his thick length is lodged inside you, fucking into your stomach. 
“Tae...” you sigh, nails scratching down the back of his strong neck. His pillowy lips envelope your neck, leaving addicting kisses down your throat—your pussy violently pulses. 
“Fuck, you make me so hard.” He growls against your heated skin, his hands spreading your thighs to clutch them tighter, something feral possessing him. He leans back to his full height, prying you wide open to suddenly hammer into your tight cunt.
High-pitched moans ceaselessly tumble out of you, soon met by Taehyung’s animalistic groans, praising you and your goddess-like pussy. “Shit, Princess, I swear I’m addicted to you.” He breathes, licking the bite marks he leaves along your pulse point. “Fucking best pussy in the world.” 
Your hand haphazardly reaches behind you, crumpling some of his paperwork as your sex devours his mighty thrusts, bracing for impact. Your lewd noises are endless, watching the way his dick disappears inside you, soon met by Taehyung’s fiery kiss. 
You reciprocate it, moving your mouth in sync with his until you scrounge up a semblance of common sense. “Baby... your meeting...ah!” 
“Fuck them, fuck the meeting.” Taehyung tosses aside all care to plough into your dripping sex. Your pussy juices incessantly flow out of you, fucked to your absolute limit as he feeds your impending orgasm. 
His lips are hot and heavy, only disconnecting to lean against your forehead, his breaths utterly delirious. “Come for me, Y/N.” He pants, pushing your legs back to plunge himself deeper. “Wanna hear my pretty wife come.” He grunts, burrowing his thick, spasming flesh so deep inside you, he caresses your cervix—you instantly cry out. 
“Fuck, Tae!” 
“C’mon, Princess,” Taehyung encourages by your lips. “Soak my dick, baby; let me feel it.” 
He only drives you towards the edge faster, crashing his lips against yours for a heated makeout session. You feel a tight knot bundling inside the bottom of your stomach, begging for release. 
“Fuck me, oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck!” He curses loudly, biting your bottom lip as he’s forced to slow down. “I’m gonna fucking explode, I can’t last.” 
“Me neither.” You whimper like a pathetic whore, sighing with paradisiacal relief—he just hit every spot inside you. 
Relishing in your spongy walls, Taehyung renews his rhymically fast pace that harmonizes your pornographic moans, growing louder, and louder, and louder as your orgasm unravels—
“Mr. Ki–oh dear God!” 
Taehyung comes to an abrupt stop that sucks the soul out of you, his eyes widening in horror. You glance back to share his line of sight—your jaw simultaneously drops to the center of the Earth.
“Oh my fuck—Mrs. Lee!!” You screech, finding her shielding her eyes as she hides behind Taehyung’s office door. Irreversible embarrassment colours your system, Taehyung protectively concealing your naked front against his chest. 
“Mrs. Lee, shit, why didn’t you call me?” He harshly questions.
“I-I tried to Mr. Kim, but you didn’t pick up.” The secretary nervously responds. “The board members are becoming impatient, sir, they instructed me to come find you.” 
Taehyung lets out the most irritated sigh in his life. He reluctantly draws out of your sex once he glimpses at the door, ensuring Mrs. Lee was out of sight. Locating your blazer, he hands it to you, sympathy riddling his features once he sees the shame on your face, helping you shield your exposed boobs. 
“Can’t you at least knock? Didn’t that goddamn occur to you?” Taehyung reprimands her, his tone laced with frustration as you remain mortified, near tears because of the embarrassment. 
“I tried, Mr. Kim, though I don’t—” she hesitates behind the door. “I don’t believe you heard me.” 
Grinding his teeth, Taehyung works himself back into his boxers, tugging up his pants to re-clasp his belt. “Jesus Christ, Mrs. Lee, tell the members I’ll be there in five. And don’t ever breathe a word of this to anyone—you didn’t see anything.” He rigidly demands, soon listening to his secretary’s incessant apologies. 
“I sincerely apologize, Mr. Kim. I’ll let them know immediately and I won’t tell a soul.” The poor lady sounds as though she’s on the verge of sobbing, shutting the door quickly before she vanishes. 
Taehyung huffs out angrily, shrugging his coat back on. His soft hand cradles your face, incredibly attentive. “Are you alright, Princess?” 
“God, Taehyung, that was so embarrassing!” You screech, shoving your blazer against your naked front before hopping off his desk. “You really couldn’t fucking wait until your meeting was over?” 
Taehyung’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, a playful smile tugging his lips. “Princess, it’s alright. It’s actually kind of funny that she caught us.” 
Disgusted, you narrow your eyes at him. “Fuck off, Tae, this isn’t funny! That was utterly embarrassing.”
“Baby, this is going to be something we’ll laugh about together, don’t worry.” Taehyung attempts to lighten your mood, chuckling as he fixes his tie.
You’re filled with crippling humiliation, however, storming away from him. You’re unable to share his light-heartedness—you told Taehyung he was going to be late for his meeting, and yet he didn’t listen to you. “Don’t tell me not to worry, asshole, I told you you were late for this meeting and you just didn’t listen.” You begin searching for your panties he’d slung somewhere, utterly annoyed.  “Now I’ve just been completely humiliated. I don’t think I can look Mrs. Lee in the eye again!” 
Sighing, Taehyung perches his hands on his hips. “Baby, it’s fine. It was just Mrs. Lee—I’m sure she hears us all the time whenever we have sex in my office.” He waves off. “I’m just glad it wasn’t a man; I would’ve had to kill him, otherwise.” 
Mortified, you snap an irritated look at him, tightly clutching your bare chest. “That is not the same as her finding you balls deep inside me, it doesn’t matter who found us. Why couldn’t you just listen to me when I said we could have sex after your meeting? We could’ve entirely avoided that.” 
Taehyung softens at your anger, gesturing for you to be at ease. “Princess, people have sex all the time, and people walk in on people having sex all the time. It’s normal, you’ll be fine.” 
Fed up with him, you exhale a scoff. Locating your panties on his chair, you shimmy them on. “God, you’re so irritating sometimes. I don’t want anyone walking in on us having sex, Taehyung. I don’t want anybody fucking seeing that, especially me.” 
Rubbing his temple, Taehyung notices the frailty of your vulnerable tone paired with your glistening eyes, searching for a solution. He lets out a long, deep sigh, watching you tug your bra back over your breasts. “Baby, I’m sure Mrs. Lee knows what sex is and how much of it we have—pretty much everyone does. Not to mention everyone also knows we’re trying to get pregnant, and it’s normal for conceiving couples to constantly have sex, what’s your deal?”
You can’t believe his audacity right now, shaking your head. He doesn’t understand that you feel uncomfortable being seen like that, irrevocable shame spreading across your entire system—you tightly clutch your body to hide it. “You just can’t go a goddamn day without getting your dick wet, isn’t that it? You really couldn’t wait the half an hour your meeting would’ve taken before you blew your load inside me? Was it really that difficult?” 
Taehyung’s face immediately twists with disgust. “What the fuck? Don’t make it sound like that;  I just wanted to make love to my gorgeous wife so we can start a family, why are you getting mad at me?” 
“Because you really can’t fucking keep it in your pants!” You blow up, tugging your dress pants back up your legs, soon buttoning your blouse. “And now I’m left with an uncomfortable, mortifying memory because of you!” 
“What? You literally went along with it, you can’t keep it in your pants, either!” Taehyung argues back, accusingly pointing a finger. 
“God, you know what? I bet you can’t even go a day without us having sex.” You challenge him, your husband scoffing behind his desk.
“You’re talking to me as if I don’t know self-control?” He barks. “You’re horny all the time! I bet you can’t go two days without my dick.” 
Agitated by his boyish attitude, you childishly counter him. “Oh yeah? I bet you can’t go three days without my pussy!” 
“I bet you can’t go four days!”
“Five days!” 
“Six days!” 
“Ugh!” You frustratingly grunt, tucking your blazer over your arm. 
You shove your husband aside to retrieve the work you originally came with. Your eyes bore into his, ploughing your finger into his broad chest. “A week, I bet you can’t go an entire week without sex, you sex beast!” 
“Oh yeah? Let’s see how long you last before you’re craving our sex again—you wouldn’t last three days with your libido, woman!” Taehyung dramatically gesticulates, clearly as wound up as you. 
 “Says my idiot husband who comes in me at least twice a day, your libido won’t last either!” You challenge him before vexedly stomping away, grabbing his office door’s handle.
“Are you challenging me, Mrs. Kim?” Taehyung leans his delectable hands on the surface of his desk, narrowing his eyes from across the room. If you weren’t so used to your husband’s fierce, sexy eyes, you would’ve folded right then. “Because I assure you, I haven’t lost a day in my life, and I don’t plan on starting now.” 
Scoffing at his use of his CEO voice, you strengthen your own. “Wrong, you’re getting taken down, Mr. Kim, and it’ll be by your dear wife.” You condescendingly smile. 
He huffs, folding his arms over his chest as you pry open his door, calling out to you. “Then my dear wife doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into, she’s going to lose!” 
Not giving a fuck anymore, you power-walk out of his office. “You’re late for your meeting, Kim!” You holler, sending him a gracious middle finger before pointedly slamming the door shut. 
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“Yes, I need you to authorize the transaction, Jimin.” Taehyung fixes his Gucci glasses on his face, scribbling away on his Surface. “He’s an important associate of mine, he came all the way from Hong Kong. I want him in a nice room for the weekend.” 
Later that evening, you attempt to drown out Taehyung’s business talk. You were currently occupying your swing on your backyard’s porch, indulging in some light reading to at least keep your distance from your infuriating husband. 
But alas, you live in the same house as him, so ignoring him was a lost cause.
You’re seriously unsure why Taehyung decided to conduct his business after hours downstairs, even that, in the entertainment area. His constant chatter was distracting you from reading, having already sent him death glares from outside on multiple occasions, only for him to shoot a mocking look back. 
He usually used the library or his study for work, though it seems he didn’t intend to exactly work, either. He’s dressed in his home clothes; a loose white, Celine t-shirt with baggy, black shorts. He only ever used his glasses whenever he was diligently reading—perhaps he originally intended on scrolling through some news on his Surface.
“Huh? I don’t know, I’m a little stressed, I guess.” He suddenly replies; Jimin being the sweetheart he is most likely asked him how he’s doing. 
“Yeah, he’s a fucking tycoon in Hong Kong, I’m seriously hoping he takes up my proposal.” Taehyung complains. “It’s stressing me out; I need to be able to distribute in Hong Kong and I’ve heard he’s not big on involving himself with the Korean market.” 
Taehyung continues humming in acknowledgement or nodding, before his eyes suddenly shift in your direction. You scramble once he catches you watching him—his face suddenly scrunches into one of scrutiny. “I don’t know, Jimin, usually my wonderful wife helps me out with my stress, but she’s being an annoying brat right now.” 
Scoffing, you shake your head with disbelief, staring daggers at him through the ajar doors. 
“Fighting? Pft, no way. We totally aren’t fighting, not when she uselessly yells at me in my own office when I did nothing wrong.”
Done with his crap, you slam your book shut, stomping inside the house. “You liar! You fucking deserved it, Kim!” 
“I didn’t deserve shit!” Taehyung barks back, not even minding that he’s on call. “How’d you feel after that denied orgasm today, huh? Sure you’re not going to rub one out without me right now?” 
Exclaiming with disbelief, you threaten to throw your book at him. “You-! Have fun coming into some fucking tissues instead of my cunt, asshole!” 
That’s the last thing you get out before thrashing your feet up the stairs, listening to Taehyung yell a ‘whatever!’ as you whack your bedroom door shut.
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The next morning, you groggily awake in bed, despising the AM. You were glad you’d fallen asleep before Taehyung crawled into bed last night; he must’ve stayed up late. Craning your neck over your shoulder, you find him fast asleep next to you. 
He’s laying on his side; his left hand tucked underneath his bread-like cheek, his right loosely cradling your bare waist. It seems he got hot during the night—the blanket was completely kicked off his feet. 
Remembering that you’re pissed at him, you remove his arm—it didn’t matter how cute he looked when he slept, or that he cuddled you to fall asleep, or that he was right; your denied orgasm yesterday left the sight of his bare body igniting heat between your legs. 
Clearing your throat, you make your way towards your bathroom to start your day, forcing yourself to ignore the invasive memory of sucking Taehyung off in the shower two days ago.
Finishing up, you carelessly waltz out to find your sleepy husband half-awake in bed, scrolling through his phone. Your gazes meet when he glances up—you dab your damp face with a towel. 
“You’re up early.” He flatly notes, returning to his phone.
“I fell asleep early last night, genius.” 
He sighs upon hearing your attitude, raking a hand through his beautiful head of hair. “Are you coming to work with me today? Or should I call Mr. Kang to drive you?” 
Lightly scoffing, you toss your towel in your hamper. “I can drive myself. It’s the 21st century, Taehyung.” 
He decides it’s too early for your snarky comebacks, waving you off. “Yeah, yeah.” He casts the duvet off himself, rubbing his sleep-laden eyes. 
You haughtily step towards your walk-in closet, determined to ignore his presence for the rest of the day, before Taehyung suddenly stops by the bathroom. He scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly shuffling his feet—he seems to be contemplating something. “Um… Princess, listen.” 
He’s still willingly calling you princess? He usually doesn’t when he’s pissed at you. That puts a small smile on your face, schooling it when you tip your chin in his direction. “What?” 
“I did some thinking about… yesterday.” He begins with a wince, choosing his words carefully. “I realized I was insensitive to laugh about what happened, or suggest that you should laugh too. I should've acknowledged that you felt uncomfortable being seen intimately or naked like that, regardless of who saw us.” He admits. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine your feelings.” 
Surprised by his apology, you stare at him wide-eyed, speechless. Taehyung merely stands with puffed cheeks, incredibly displaced. He awkwardly blows out air once he discerns you won’t say anything. “Right, I’m gonna wash up.” 
He begins stepping towards the bathroom until you stop him. “Taehyung, wait.” 
He swivels around, his sweet, coffee brown eyes meeting yours. 
“Th-thank you.” You swallow, awkward about this too. Taehyung has always been an aware, accountable man able to read between the lines, a trait of his you thanked the heavens for. He never apologizes in the midst of a fight, however. He always adored proving you wrong, currently leaving your jaw figuratively attached to the floor.
“No problem.” He nods, before disappearing into your shared bathroom. 
You’re left extremely conflicted. On one hand, maybe you should end whatever childish war you both started; he’s already acknowledged his mistake and was genine about it. One the other, you’re curious as to how Taehyung would fare without your sex; would he be able to last like he says? 
Curious, you decide on ruffling his feathers today, nibbling on a mischievous smile. You spin around to skip towards your walk-in closet, only cunningness in mind. 
Your fingers coquettishly graze the ‘scandalous’ section of your wardrobe. 
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You knock against Taehyung’s office door before propping it open, peeking inside. Taehyung hasn’t noticed your presence yet, too absorbed in his work. You find him standing as he diligently reads papers, grazing his perfect, slender fingers across the sheets. He appears strikingly handsome, thin glasses adorning his face, his rolled up dress shirt sleeves deliciously showcasing his biceps. 
“If you’re someone that isn’t my wife, please leave and speak to my secretary.” His caramel-smooth, though commanding voice sparks something inside you, swallowing it away. A smirk soon forms on your face, shutting the door. 
“Thankfully it is your wife, Mr. Kim.” 
He lifts his gaze to acknowledge you, though upon doing so, his eyes widen in shock. He observes you in your entirety, blinking multiple times before he finds your line of sight—his irises harden with seriousness. “What are you wearing?” 
Tipping your chin, you fold your arms over your breasts, shifting your weight onto one leg. “What do you mean?” 
Your condescending tone causes Taehyung’s eyes to narrow, scrutinizing you. “I asked; what the fuck are you wearing?” 
Scoffing at his tone, you tilt your head, attitude laced in your comeback. “Maybe you should ask me nicely, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung swallows, watching his Adam’s apple bob before he wets his lips. He lifts one of his gorgeous hands to fix his glasses, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. What are you wearing, Jagiya?” He voices much more politely, and you send him an accomplished smile. 
“I’m just wearing one of my regular office outfits.” 
“But why are you wearing one entirely in ruby red?” He challenges, watching his eyes intending to be reprimanding, but they have the slightest hint of lust. He’s not going to survive this one, at all. 
“What’s the matter with me wearing an all-red outfit?” You mount a hand on your hip, keeping his eyes hostage.
Your husband scoffs. His digits clutch his mouth, tracing the outline of his luscious lips until he cradles his masculine, impeccably-carved chin. “You know what the matter is.” 
Feeling playful, you decide to push his buttons. Your walk is alluring as you make your way towards Taehyung’s desk, your each step slow, purposeful. You challenge his fierce eyes with your tempting ones, inviting him into your trap. Reaching his desk, you confidently strut in front of him, allowing him to catch a view of your shapely curves in your form-fitting outfit. 
All you were really wearing was a tight pencil skirt with a short peplum top. The neckline only cut low enough that the cleavage was tasteful. What had to be ruining Taehyung was the colour; he adores red on you, and can never keep his hands to himself whenever you wear it—not to mention when you pair it with a skirt so tight your ass looks biteable, and ruby-coloured lips to match.
You lean a hand on his desk as you peer up at him; you swear it was like you were facing the devil. 
“Actually, I don’t know, Mr. Kim.” You play dumb, your innocent eyes and sweet tone causing Taehyung to flex his jaw, but he remains stoic, arms folded with a schooled face. 
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, examining you up and down. “Are those the red diamond earrings I gave you in Rome?” 
Tilting your head, you step closer to him. “Yes.” 
“You do know red diamonds cost a million dollars per carat, right?” Taehyung reminds you—you take another step closer.
“And the earrings I gave you have 6 carats worth of red diamonds?” 
“So you’re wearing my $6 million earrings to work?” He cocks a brow, scrutinizing you. “Why in god’s name are you wearing them?” 
Nibbling your velvety, red lip, you nonchalantly shrug, adopting his sense of unbotheredness. “No reason.” 
Taehyung merely sighs; he knows you’re doing this to fuck with him. He stalks towards his office chair and plops down, tucking both his hands behind his head as he kicks his feet up on his desk, eyeing you with his sexy, dark eyes. “Well, is our business done here?” He condescendingly questions. “Or do you need to stand there and prove your point longer?” 
Shocked by his audacity, you laugh through your scoff. You swat his feet off the desk, his legs collapsing to the floor as you promiscuously seat yourself where they were. You lean your hands back, crossing your legs to seductively present yourself—your husband angrily glares at you. 
“Actually, our business isn’t done.” You snark. “I still need to prove you’re a sex-hungry beast, which shouldn’t take more than…” You purposefully peek at the watch on your wrist. “What? 3 minutes? Before you need to get your dick wet?” 
Taehyung dips his head with a sigh, leaning his elbows on his manspread knees. “Are you really still on about that?” 
“Yes, I am.” You bite back. “Especially after you decided to wage a war you knew you’d never win, and accuse me of being the loser.” 
Taehyung shakes his head, bitterly chuckling. “You’re really fucking funny if you think I’m the one who started this; it was literally you, babe.” 
“Awh, can Taehyungie not step up to the challenege?” You overly pout. “Is he afraid of being a sore loser?” 
Taehyung massages his temple, puffing air through his lips. “My god, this woman of mine is impossible.” 
Without warning, you suddenly advance towards him, hands shackling onto the armrests of his chair. He lets out a soft exhale when you bring your lips just before his, piercing his eyes with a carnal look of lust. “And you’re incredibly sexy, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung shifts his hips in his seat, the column of his throat bobbing as he stares you down, but his eyes reveal his failing composure. “This has to be against the rules.” 
Your hands slide over Taehyung’s delicious thighs, slowly stroking him. His lap twitches in response, subduing the sound he almost lets out. 
“What rules?” You coo. 
Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut when you move an inch towards his crotch, laughing through his struggle. “This is unfair, baby. You’re evil.” 
“Me? Evil? Never.” You purr with a saccharine sweet tone, letting your hands skim closer to his cock. Taehyung exhales harshly as he challenges you with his eyes, flaring with anger. But, you only draw closer, enough that your lips are separated by a mere hair’s length. “I’m just making sure you know who's going to win, loverboy.” 
You quickly peck his lips, trailing a finger along the side of his jaw, your voice seductive as ever. “And by the way, I’m wearing your favourite red set underneath.” 
Taehyung nearly chokes as you draw away from him, swaying your hips as you take your leave. Your husband storms behind his desk, hearing him rapidly rise from his chair with his comedic accusations. “You’re evil, you’re evil I tell you!” 
Maniacally giggling, you continue your walk out, listening to your husband throw a fit. “How can you wear those lace garters knowing I can’t rip them off? You witch!” 
You hide your innocent chuckle behind your hand, daring to turn and provide him with a small tease of what you’re wearing underneath. Once the said lace garters meet your husband’s gaze, his jaw drops—he’s even livelier than before.
“Wait until you’re home, Kim Y/N!” He valiantly shouts. “You’re not going to win!” 
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“Ah fuck,” you curse, nearly knocking into the wall. You lazily remove your shoes in the foyer, your system a bit wonky after some drinks with your co-workers tonight. You toss the contraptions aside, wearily checking your bag for your phone. 
“Honey, I’m home!!” You call out, not certain when Taehyung arrived home. You’d decided to indulge in a night out to avoid coming home to him today; you knew you’d ruffled his feathers a little too much, and you were unsure how your husband would retaliate. 
Hearing silence, you groan, contemplating that he’s either not home, or most likely asleep. You welcome that possibility, tuckered out yourself. Sluggishly stalking up the stairs, you paddle towards your bedroom door with a yawn, seriously awaiting some well-needed shut-eye. 
Your senses are currently haywire, so you’re unable to hear or see much, which makes the next minutes of your life completely unforeseen. When you mindlessly open the door of your bedroom, your jaw drops to the center of the Earth, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. 
You find your husband openly masturbating in bed. 
Now that you focus, the sound of slapping skin and laboured groans should’ve clued you into his salacious activities, but you’re clearly too dense. “Taehyung, what the fuck?” 
Your voice causes Taehyung to open his eyes, landing on you as he breathes unevenly. Sweat glistened upon his honey-coloured skin, his pillowy lips hung open, chest rapidly inflating and deflating. 
What surprises you the most is Taehyung doesn’t even appear the slightest bit embarrassed, no, your husband has the smuggest smirk plastered on his handsome face. He doesn’t stop his movements, either, rather slowly strokes his cock, almost as though he were teasing you, inviting you to join his raunchy shenanigans. 
And fuck, did the alcohol in your system kill your defence mechanisms, pussy pulsing at the sight of his throbbing, hard, thick flesh in his palm. 
“Welcome home, babe.” Your scheming husband smiles, continuing to beat his goddamn meat, completely unbothered by your presence—you feel like a fuse short-circuiting. “K-Kim Taehyung, I asked you a question!” 
“What am I doing?” He condescendly repeats. “I’m doing what you should be doing.”
You huff when Taehyung dares letting out a deep, mellow groan, fucking into his fist faster, his stomach muscles contracting as he no doubt reaches his high. You wish you could tear your eyes away, but the sight of his cock makes your mouth water, your lady bits tingling. 
How much you want to run over and spear yourself on his dick. 
Snapping out of your trance, you stand your ground. “Taehyung, my loving, kind, dear husband, may you please put your cock away?” 
Infuriated, you grind your teeth. “Because… Because this is unfair! You can’t just have your dick out like this!” 
“Why not? You’re the same person who literally wore the sexiest outfit possible to work and made me want to rail you over my desk.” 
Smacking your hand to your forehead, you attempt to calm down, searching for a solution—funny how he still hasn’t stopped masturbating, weakening your guard. “Taehyung, this is cruel. You can’t be touching yourself in front of me, there has to be rules in this war. Every war has rules!” 
“Says the woman who literally flashed me her underwear and said ‘what rules?’.” Taehyung retorts, returning to his regular program. He suddenly squeezes the head of his meat that elicits a deep, masculine moan from him; the sound literally hardens your nipples, dampening your panties. 
“Ugh! You’re the worst, the worst!” You shout, throwing your hands up in the air. 
Taehyung dips his head back with a laugh, sending you the most shit-eating grin in the world. “All you have to do to end your suffering is come here and sit on this dick, baby. That’s all it takes.” 
His words stir something hot inside you, biting down on your teeth to subdue your horniness—you’re quite literally seconds away from throwing away your pride and straddling him. But, you then realize it’s what he wants; your husband is incredibly clever at gaining his way, and you won’t let him win. 
“Fuck you, if you wanna play dirty, then that’s how we’re playing.” You point a scolding finger at him, met by your husband’s amused expression, tonguing the inside of his cheek. 
“We already play pretty dirty, babe.” 
Wanting to throttle the irritatingly gorgeous man, you huff out with annoyance and flash him a middle finger before disappearing into your bathroom, slamming the door shut. 
“You better not have your cock out by the time I’m out of here, asshole!” 
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You watch Taehyung get ready for the day with your arms folded over your naked breasts, legs kicked up on the bed with an irked expression. You’d washed up for the morning, but after Taehyung’s little stunt last night, you’re too pissed at him to continue your day, watching the infuriating man hum along to a useless tune as he knots his tie in the mirror. 
He steals a glance at you through his reflection; you avert your eyes, incessantly wiggling your foot. 
“Are you not coming to work, Jagiya?” He asks with a purposefully sweet tone.
Smacking your lips, you remove the clip from your hair, letting your strands loose and comfortably reclining in bed. “No.” 
Humming in acknowledgement, Taehyung completes his tie. He tosses on his Louis Vuitton suit jacket next, adjusting the buttons of his sleeves. “Any particular reason for your absence, Mrs. Kim?” 
You pop an eye open, shooting him a scrutinizing look. “My company‘s asshole CEO.” 
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, amusedly smirking. He reaches out for his laptop case, glimpsing at himself one last time in the mirror before he approaches you. 
“Well, your asshole CEO’s off, then.” He jests, landing a warm palm on your shoulder to kiss your cheek. The domestic gesture makes your heart flutter, attempting to remain unphased when his soft lips press against your skin. “Eat a good breakfast and lunch before I’m home, pretty girl.” He reminds you as he smooths your hair. 
When he pulls away to leave, your hand grapples onto his wrist, stopping him. “Wait.” 
He faces you, eyebrows raised in anticipation. You purse your lips together and shuffle over to him, tugging him closer to you. You spring up onto your knees, now levelled with his chest—your hands curl around his tie. 
You silently fix the loose knotting, tidying it up. He observes you with a schooled face, unevenly swallowing. Your smaller hands smooth over his impeccable suit once you’re finished, sliding towards his biceps to hold them. 
You lift your eyes to meet Taehyung’s coffee brown irises, observing him. Taehyung peers back at you, caught in a silent, magnetic gaze with one another. You flit towards his wide, pillowy lips, tempted by their perfect shape, and you lean forward to softly kiss him. 
Taehyung’s eyebrows climb at the gesture, confused when you pull away. You cock a brow in response, tone haughty. “What? I can’t kiss my husband before he goes to work?” 
Suppressing a smile, Taehyung lightly scoffs, wrapping an arm around your naked torso and pressing his lips to yours. You feed into his kiss, an arm clinging to his neck as the other splays across his jaw. You kiss him harder, driven by Taehyung squishing your bare boobs against his tailored suit. 
He lightly groans when your tongue teases the seam on his mouth; he’s quick to open up. His tongue slips inside you, licking exploratively as you unabashedly make out with him, Taehyung’s movements growing hotter by the second. Your husband suddenly breaks away, a smirk plastered on his face. “Feels like we haven’t kissed in ages.” 
You laugh through your nose. “It’s only been two days, Taehyung.” 
“Two days too long.” 
Suddenly, Taehyung tosses aside his laptop case and cradles your figure in his arms, tackling you onto your bed. You yelp hitting the sheets, the sound muffled once Taehyung crashes his lips onto yours. 
He manuevers his mouth languidly but with a sense of roughness—desire. His long fingers slide into a hand of yours as the other curls around your neck, cupping your jaw between his thumb and index finger. He holds your face in place, kissing you hard and deep as he effortlessly takes control of your body—you’ve never felt anything more powerful. 
His hand around your throat slowly sinks past your collarbones, sliding down until your naked breast is within his palm. He squeezes you, slowly kneading the flesh as he simultaneously moves his body in the motion of thrusts—you whimper pathetically throughout the godly pleasure.
Taehyung lets out a deep, shaky groan when his hardening cock nudges your pussy folds, tightening the grasp around your breast. He pinches your nipple all of a sudden, moaning into his mouth. 
You’re seconds from biting his supple lower lip until you both hear a rhythmic buzzing. 
Taehyung pops off your mouth, cursing. “Fuck.” 
He fishes for his phone in the pocket of his dress pants, glimpsing at the caller—he accepts the call with an eye roll. 
“Hello? Yeah, I’m on my way.” He curtly informs, focusing on his conversation while you admire his slightly swollen, wide lips, and his stupidly handsome face. Even if you’re still pissed at him, it doesn’t make him any less stunning. 
“Oh, we got the report this morning? Then yes, I’ll be holding a meeting first thing in the morning. Mhm. Yup, right before the conference.” Taehyung continues for about a minute or so before he ends the call amicably, returning to you. 
“Alright, I have to go.” Taehyung proclaims with a sigh, tucking his phone away as he locates his laptop. Once he nabs it, he sends you a harsh look, lips scornfully pressed together. “And new rule: no kissing.” He tuts with a finger, crawling off your body and soon, your bed. “Only very quick pecks.” 
You bitterly scoff, rising from the mattress. “Not my fault you can’t control yourself, loverboy.” 
Taehyung playfully narrows his eyes at you as he fixes his suit. He approaches you to cradle your shoulder again, but instead kisses your forehead, long and affectionate. He draws away to gaze into your eyes, lifting your chin with a curl of his finger. “I’ll be going.” 
He pecks your plushy petals before stepping away, playfully tapping your underboob. “Wear a shirt of mine if you get cold.” 
You grumpily pout at him when he sends you a show-stopping grin—you can’t stand that he’s so perfect sometimes. You watch him disappear through the door, plopping down into your sheets with a frustrated huff. 
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“Ugh, look at him.” 
You kiss your teeth as you lay flat on your stomach, legs flailing in the air while watching on your laptop. It’s the live stream of Taehyung’s official announcement regarding his new subsidiary for learning centers. You’d completely forgotten that was today, though gladly your presence wasn’t needed for it. 
You dreamily sigh as you watch your husband confidently speak, pouting with your cheeks in your palms. Why did he have to be so good-looking? It’s a genuine question; you can imagine the amount of people currently fawning over him.
You, on the other hand, are semi-pissed. Not only did he have to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but being without his touch for two days now has left you squirming more than usual. Your makeout session didn’t help, either—you’d literally gushed buckets of cum by the time he left you laying on your bed. 
Frustrated, you groan grievously before smacking your laptop shut—if you ogle at him any longer, you’ll go insane. Anytime you see Taehyung being the ever-so composed, intimidating, professional CEO at work, your pussy never keeps quiet. 
Any time you watch him type away at his laptop or scribble across papers, your mind shifts towards those same hands shoving his digits inside you. Any time he licks, bites or touches his lips, all you consider is how he drags those same plushy petals along every part of your body, worshiping you. 
The worst is seeing his concentrated, gorgeous face—if only people knew how many times you’ve seen that same handsome face wedged between your legs, lapping at your cunt.
You slap your hands over your flustered face once your hormones begin settling between your legs. The constant ache within your sex is pulsing unavoidably, biting your lip to manage it. It didn’t help that you were still in bed, smelling his intoxicating scent in the sheets. 
You kick at them, feeling incredibly horny. His black Louis Vuitton shirt hugging your frame was exacerbating everything, constantly ruminating about how many times he’s fucked you in this shirt. 
Now you’re even worse off, bunching up the damn fabric in your hands to find some relief, to channel this throbbing within your pussy elsewhere, but it’s no use. You snake a hand down towards your core, pushing past the band of your underwear. When your fingers caress your sex, you instantly gasp. “Shit, I’m so wet.” 
The slick that oozes out of you is shocking; you swear you’ve never once leaked this much essence on your own. How is it possible that Taehyung makes you horny when he’s not even here? He’d have a field day knowing that, especially considering your little squabble at the moment. 
Recalling the very thing, your gears start shifting, contemplating a delicious revenge plot. His behaviour yesterday was utterly cruel, stroking his thick length right in front of you knowing you’re unable to do a thing. 
The second your fingers slightly move across your slick pussy folds, an idea pops into your head. 
Scrambling off your bed, you patter over towards the end of the hall, finding the most entertaining part of your home; your sex room. 
You giggle evilly, ready to place your plan into motion until you ram into a hurdle—Taehyung always locks the room. You curse, remembering that he proclaimed it’s to ensure you never venture in by yourself and either a) plan something sneaky behind his back, or b), use it to play with yourself. 
Funny how your husband knows you so well; you’re going to violate both rules. 
The universe shifts in your favour when you consider your options. You know Mrs. Choi and Seo own a copy of the key since they’re the ones who clean it; sometimes it amazes you how loyal the kind ladies are, they’ve never once judged a damn thing about your kinky sex life. 
You kiss your teeth once you consider they’re currently out, so it’s no use. You contemplate where Taehyung could possibly hide his copy of the key. Surely he’s smart enough to personally keep it on him, though has an extra in case one of the housekeepers loses theirs. Pacing the second floor, you constantly rummage through your mind attempting to figure out exactly where he could’ve stashed the copy. 
It’s only when your eyes land on your bedroom, do you finally have an ‘ah-hah’ moment. 
Your fingers clasp one of the brand new photos Taehyung framed in your bedroom; he’d enlarged your wedding photo to hang above your granite fireplace downstairs, replacing the frame he kept on his night table with a photo of you and him in New Zealand. 
You remember him explaining to you why he chose the distinct photo; he described your emotional New Zealand trip as a key moment he realized he’d love you for an eternity. At the time, the sentiment melted your heart considering the pressing situation then, desiring to have a closer look at the photo, but Taehyung had snatched the frame from your grasp, scolding you. 
He oddly claimed he didn’t want you to break the frame, and ordered you to never touch it. You’d simply let it go then, but something constantly nagged at you about his behaviour. 
Following your hunch, you grasp the frame to carefully open it. Once you lift the back, the smile that graces your face is utterly conniving—he hid the key behind your photo. 
It made perfect sense considering it’s out-of-the-box genius, just like your husband, but also someplace Taehyung could easily access, and one he’d also remember. 
Shuffling down the hall, you unlock the sex room to scour inside it. You faintly remembered the exact drawer Taehyung kept all the vibrators, letting your fingers brush over various sizes, shapes, and colours of the toys. 
Settling on a lilac wand, you snag it with eagerness, quickly shutting the drawer and door before returning to your bedroom. 
Leaping onto your bed, you snatch your phone off your night table, clicking on your conversation with Taehyung. You find his messages from two days ago, telling you to visit his office; if only he knew it would lead him to his downfall today.
[11:07 am]: taehyung 
Usually, Taehyung never took more than a few minutes to respond to you. Only if he’s urgently tending to something would he inform you he’s busy, though you know his conference ended 10 minutes ago; he’s most likely on his phone, anyway. 
You receive a read receipt a minute later, though Taehyung doesn’t text anything. You quirk a brow, tapping over your keyboard again. 
[11:09 am]: taehyung 
[11:09 am]: hello 
Again, the read receipts are there, though his messages remain non-existent. You grow annoyed, wondering if he’s possibly ignoring you—but even if he is, why would he leave the messages open to read? 
[11:10 am]: hello husband 
[11:10 am]:  husbiebun
[11:11 am]: most handsome man in the world
[11:11 am]: man that rocks my world 
[11:12 am]: man that owns my pussy
[11:14 am]: taehyung
[11:14 am]: baby
[11:14 am]: answer me 
[11:15 am]: i’m going to keep texting you until you respond to me 
[11:15 am]: Taehyung
[11:15 am]: Mr. Kim
Husbiebun <3: i was going to message you but had to speak to an executive, I’m back in my office now 
Husbiebun <3: what did you need?? 
Feeling slightly guilty, you shove it away, reclining against your headboard as you toy with your underwear—you feel extremely compelled to tear it off. 
[11:15 am]: i’m sorry, i just wanted to talk to you
Husbiebun <3: it’s okay, what did you want to talk about? 
Husbiebun <3: are you not feeling well? 
Annoyingly endeared by him, you hide your flustered face behind a facade of seriousness. 
[11:15 am]: i wanted to facetime, are you free right now? 
Husbiebun <3: facetime? sure, i’m not exactly free but i can keep you on while i work
Husbiebun <3: i’ll call you in two minutes, love 
Feeling giddy inside, you physically force yourself to school your face—how could he still make you feel butterflies in your stomach when you’re more than a year into your relationship? 
You’re still that whipped for him, huh? 
Suddenly, Taehyung’s contact name with the precious photo you took of him in front of the Eiffel Tower lights up your screen, swiping to accept. 
The call connects, revealing Taehyung in his Gucci glasses, sitting behind his desk as he twiddles with a pen. He waves at you with a kind smile—his gorgeous face brings you instant ease. 
“Hey, Princess.” 
“Hi, Taehyung.” 
He masterfully twirls the pen in his hand as he refocuses on the sheets before him. You can’t exactly see his work—his phone is propped on his desk, though you can tell by the hot furrow in his brow he’s working hard. 
How incredibly sexy. 
“How’s your day been?” He affectionately queries, busy studying lines. 
“Good, I’ve been chilling in our room with my drawing tablet.” 
You see him crack a fond smile. “Have you eaten?” 
“Yes, I have.”
“Good.” He praises, nibbling his luscious bottom lip. “What did you eat?” 
You tap your chin attempting to remember. “I had avocado toast and a mango-pineapple fruit bowl.” You recall, soon having an ‘ah-hah’ moment. “Oh, and Mrs. Choi made me eat grapefruit and oranges this morning; I wonder why.”
“Ah, that’s good.” Taehyung brightens up, swiping his slender fingers over his laptop’s mouse pad, then referring to his sheets. “I asked Mrs. Choi and Seo to start serving you more citrus fruits; vitamin-C is good for getting pregnant.” 
Your cheeks instantly flush, impressed by his innate care and initiative—he’s so charming. “Oh, I didn’t know.” 
“Mm,” the deep hum of his baritone voice is hypnotizing, nearly melting your insides. “Always eat your fruits, Princess; good girls eat their fruits.” 
You fall silent secretly doting on him—sometimes he turns you into a complete pile of mush. Your bashful smile never wipes off your face, unable to contain the fluttering of your heart. By the time Taehyung glimpses at you through the camera, he notices, fondly chuckling. “What did you want to talk about, pretty girl?” 
You shyly pout watching him write, toying with the end of your shirt. “Honestly? Nothing much, I just watched your conference and thought about how…” you trail, speaking through protruded lips. 
“Hmm?” He mellifluously hums. “What did you think about?” 
You twiddle your fingers, stealing glances at his breath-taking side-profile; his beauty was truly carved by the gods. “I thought that you looked really handsome.”
Taehyung’s lips contort with a faint smile, inscribing his impeccable signature on a sheet. “You wanted to call me to tell me I looked handsome?” 
“Well, that; and I also considered how many other people probably thought the same thing, and I wanted you away from ogling eyes.” You haughtily explain, crossing your arms. 
Taehyung warmly chuckles; you adore the smile that graces his lips. “You’re a certified cutie, you know that?” 
Sheepish, you giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding a stupid grin. Taehyung glimpses in your direction at the sound, flipping a page. “I see you decided to wear clothes.” 
Flashing a look at your shirt, you narrow your eyes. “Why? You don’t like when I’m naked?” 
“I love when you’re naked,” he replies. “I just know you get cold.” 
You nearly scoff—Taehyung is sincerely too perfect sometimes. How can he make you feel horny, giddy, and absolutely adored within a matter of mere minutes? All while he’s not even here? It’s as though your anger towards him was dissipating, pissing you off.
Reminded of your original revenge scheme, you lay flat on your stomach, slowly pressing your body into the satin sheets. Kicking your legs up, you carelessly swing them while resting your cheek in your palm, closely watching him through the camera. “What would you have done if I wasn’t wearing clothes…” You voice seductively, biting your lip as you contemplate your next word. “Daddy?” 
Taehyung instantly cocks a brow as he pauses. “What did you just say?” 
“I just asked what my punishment would be for not wearing clothes right now, daddy.” 
Taehyung slowly smacks his lips, lightly laughing before he returns to his work. “I wouldn’t have done anything, honestly.” 
“Really?” You voice lilts with a question mark. “Nothing ruffles your feathers about me being home half-naked without you? What if a board member of yours sees you FaceTiming your wife with her boobs out?” 
Taehyung snorts, tapping his pen on his paper. “First of all, I only FaceTime or video call you in my office, and nobody comes in here without a scheduled appointment; except you.” He matter-of-factly states. “Second, it’s completely fine if your boobs are out at home; I see them all the time. As long as you’re comfortable, I’m good.” 
You ironically pout hearing his answer, heart sinking in your chest. “So you don’t get turned on seeing my boobs anymore?” 
Taehyung’s eyes instantly widen, panicking as he turns towards the screen. “No, no, Princess. I love your boobs, I just know you like being braless at home so they’re normal to me, and I wouldn’t punish you for it.” 
Hmphing, you puff your cheeks. “Well in that case…” Your hands grip the hem of your shirt, stripping it off. Taehyung steals a glimpse at you, completely normal as he views your braless frame—it’s when you hook onto your panties does he say something. 
“Princess, what are you doing?” 
“What? You don’t mind if I’m naked at home, don’t you?” 
He visibly swallows, clearing his throat. “Aren’t Mrs. Choi and Seo home?” 
“They’re grocery-shopping, and they’re women, anyway.” 
Taehyung slowly wets his lips, adjusting his glasses on his face. “Be my guest, then.” 
Smiling proudly, you slowly, seductively strip off your underwear, entertained by Taehyung glancing towards his screen—he’s attempting to act unbothered, but his bobbing Adam’s Apple gives him away. 
You sling your underwear elsewhere, watching Taehyung as he returns to work. Again, you feel yourself gush watching him in his element, driven by your now naked frame. Your hand curls around the purple wand you snatched earlier behind your phone, devising your set-up. 
“So… I guess my dommy husband has let up on his punishments then, huh?” 
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow. “What makes you say that?” 
“Usually you would've punished me for being naked without you, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, diligently scanning his work. “As long as you’re not touching yourself, I’m okay with it.” He explains. “My wife can be naked in her own house.” 
Your lips curve similarly to the Cheshire Cat, mind brewing with deception. “And what if I was touching myself?” 
Taehyung freezes when he flips a page. “Huh?” 
“What if I was touching myself, Mr. Kim?” 
Cocking a brow at your audacity, Taehyung’s tone is authoritative. “Are we not currently in a war abstaining from sex? Think carefully about what you’re saying, Y/N.” 
His harsher timbre makes your body shudder with pleasure, fuelling your neediness. “Well, technically, this isn’t sex, it’s masturbating.” You correct him, finally revealing the vibrator. “And I think I’m gonna do it now.” 
Clicking on the toy, Taehyung’s eyes visibly widen, unable to fathom what he sees. “Y/N, where the fuck did you get that? How did you find my key?!” 
“I know my dear husband too well.” You snark, biting your lips as you press the vibrating toy to your collarbone—your nipples automatically harden. 
Taehyung’s eyes harden watching you, speaking seriously into his screen. “Y/N, you know touching yourself is against one of my rules, stop right the hell now.” 
“Awh, does Taehyungie think I’ll actually listen to him?” You chide, slipping the vibrator towards the top of your breast. You instantly hiss, carnal eyes meeting his angry ones. “Hilarious.” 
“You goddamn—“ Taehyung swipes a troubled hand over his face, huffing out. “Listen, baby, if this is about yesterday, I’m sorry, okay? Maybe I played too dirty, but I sincerely apologize. You can stop now, alright?” 
You scoff, ignoring him and letting your vibrator touch your nipple—you gasp, throwing your head back against the headboard. Taehyung kisses his teeth, his voice more urgent. “Princess, stop this instant—you know my rules about toys and touching yourself. I don’t tolerate it.” 
Neglecting his warning, you slide the vibrator lower, moaning as the buzzing sinks through your skin, stirring delicious arousal inside you. Taehyung kisses his teeth when he listens to your erotic sigh.
“Jagiya, listen to me; let’s put the vibrator away and talk, yeah?” Taehyung attempts to negotiate, his tone much sweeter. “Isn’t this whole argument of ours childish in the first place? We’re both grown adults trying to become parents; let’s handle this in a civilized manner, alright?” 
Sending him the most deadpan expression ever, you purposefully descend the vibrator towards your slit. Soon, the digits of your unoccupied hand slip through your folds, feeling your dripping cum. You lightly gasp, swishing around your essence with fascination. “I hope you know I’m very wet right now, Taehyung. All because I watched you be my sexy CEO husband—I can’t stop thinking about you.” 
You gently moan once you slide through your cunt towards your clit, lightly brushing the pulsing bud. Your husband scoffs on the other end when you shudder, exasperated. “Y/N, listen to me! I swear if you touch yourself right now, I’ll go insane, and your punishment will reflect that.” 
“Good, that’s exactly what I want.” 
And without further ado, you press the vibrstor to your throbbing clit, erupting a sensual sigh from you. Your body jerks alive, head leaning back into your pillow—Taehyung instantly shouts through your screen. 
“Y/N, you brat!” 
You listen to him constantly repeat that you’re a stubborn, disobedient bad girl, and the punishment he’ll deliver for your behaviour will destroy you, but you evilly laugh as a response, sweetening your tone. “I’ll be pausing my video now, by the way, so all you’ll be able to hear is my moans as I touch myself, but you can’t see or do anything about it, Mr. Kim.” 
You watch his eyes glower with anger, fed up with your audacity. “Kim Y/N, I swear if you—” And Taehyung disappears when you pause your video, finally able to unabashedly play with yourself. With neither of your housekeepers home as well, you lay back, indulging in rubbing the vibrating wand against your pussy. 
The moans you let out are pornographic, your skin set alight by the delicious buzzing. It prompts cum to ooze out of you like clockwork, your clit gloriously stimulated as you enjoy the absolute freedom, relishing in yours otherworldly pleasure. 
You’re pulled out of your piece of paradise when you hear Taehyung’s menacing voice, evidently done for. “Y/N, I swear to God, if you moan one more time—” 
“Ngh,” you sigh, rutting your eager hips against the lilac toy. 
“Oh my fucking—Y/N!” 
“Fuck,” you let out a high-pitched cry, melting when the buzzing wand sends shockwaves of arousal through you. You dip it lower, teasing your fluttering hole—you instantly spasm with need, desiring something within the walls of your cave. “Ah! Oh my god…” 
“Y/N,” Taehyung sounds painfully desparate, practically begging you. “You have to stop, baby, I can’t listen to you moan like that but not see you.” 
“Fuck, Taehyung.” You pant, rubbing the wand against your fiery hot cunt. “I get why… you don’t let me use toys.” You swallow harshly, ready to plunge the thick, vibrating toy inside you. “I need this inside me, ugh.” 
“No fucking way.” Taehyung vehemently denies. “Don’t you dare put it inside you, do not.” 
“But it feels so good, baby.” You sigh, head spinning with delirium. You’ve never been able to indulge in the use of a vibrator, now completely enjoying the free reign you own. Playing with yourself is immensely pleasuring, your eyes hooding over, pussy leaking all over your once impeccable bed sheets. “I’m so wet, Taehyung, fuck.” 
“You’re the brattiest little thing I know,” Taehyung grits, before he deeply sighs, quite literally beseeching. “You can’t do this to me, Jagiya. Let me come home, I swear I’ll pleasure you in any way, just wait until I’m home.” 
“No, you can’t… get away with yesterday.” You breathe harshly, feeding off the delicious vibrating. You click the toy to increase its speed, crying out when the stronger vibrations spasm through you. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
“Y/N, you did not just increase the speed of that vibrator!” 
Ignoring him, your mind explodes with colours, floating in paradise as the buzzing wand delivers waves of pleasure. “Ngh, Taehyung, oh my fucking god!”
“That’s it, that’s it!” Your husband hollers. “I’m coming home, I’m coming home this instant!” You listen to Taehyung rummage around on his side, but you’re far too fucked out to even sense his anger. 
“Shit… shit, shit, shit.” You gasp, grinding your teeth to manage the fluttery sensation within your gut. You can feel something deliciously simmering, ready to release. “Fuck, I’m getting close, oh shit, I’m close!” 
You listen to Taehyung order someone on his end, speaking harshly into the receiver. “I swear I won’t forgive you for this, Y/N, less than ten minutes and I’ll be home, just wait.” 
“Awh, I’m so scared–ah!” You moan through your taunt, sighing out with pleasure. 
“Baby, stop moaning, oh my fucking God stop moaning.” Taehyung sounds as though he’s losing his sanity, evidently clenching his jaw. “I’m driving and my phone’s fucking connected to my car, stop moaning!”
“Ngh!” You moan louder, half taunting, half because you’re constantly teasing your spasming hole. 
“Fuck me, I can hear you everywhere, stop moaning!” 
“God, this feels amazing,” you deliriously sigh, erotic noises bouncing off the walls of your room. “Fuck you… Taehyung… for not letting me use vibrators.” 
“This is why, you slut.” Taehyung hisses, his rough tone lighting your squirming body on fire. “You’re the epitome of a disobedient brat; you know exactly what kills me and use it against me!” 
“What? Being able to hear me, but not see me? Or the opposite? You’re such a simple man, Kim Taehyung, so–oh my god.” You erupt with a heady moan when you plunge the tip of the wand inside your pussy hole, unable to contain yourself.
“For fuck’s sake, you’re torturing me, Princess. Either stop or mute yourself, you’re killing me!” 
“You can just… hang up–fuck!” 
“It’ll kill me even more knowing you could orgasm without me,” he reasons. “Five minutes and I’ll be home, five fucking minutes, dammit!” 
“You can just wave the white flag, Tae.” You coo, strangling fucked out groans. “All you need to do… is come home and put your dick inside me, baby, it’s that simple.” You chide him just as he did yesterday, indulging in your sweet revenge.
 “You know I can’t do that!” He shouts. 
“Can’t? Or won’t–ugh.” 
“You’re so–! This is cruel, Y/N, you’re completely violating the rules, this is a crime!” 
“Rules? I don’t remember those–oh god.” 
“I told you to stop moaning!” He angrily directs. “You need to shut your pretty mouth before I do it myself.” 
“Awh, is Mr. Kim gonna punish me? What if I can’t stop—ngh!” 
“Y/N, shut up!” 
“Come home and fuck me, Mr. Kim, fuck me like the whore I am, fuck me like your needy little sub.” You purposefully coo, melding it with your graphic moans. 
“You witch, you’re a witch!” He cries out, sounding as though he’s hanging by his last thread. “What happened to my good girl, huh? When did she get so bad?” 
You smirk, lacing your timbre with seduction. “Your good girl’s gone, Mr. Kim,” you purr. “You need to come home and fuck her into her place.” 
“For fuck’s sake!” Taehyung howls, his voice utterly fed up. “You’re done, you’re done!”
“What?” You retort, swept up in the intense moment. “Didn’t want me to discover vibrators because they’re better than your dick?” 
Now that is what ticks Taehyung off, his voice roaring through the phone. “Oh you little—you’re fucking in for it!” 
All you hear is the FaceTime call cut out, too distracted by your pleasure to pay any real attention. Your orgasm bubbles— swirls around inside you as your toes curl, your eyes roll back and your body operates on sheer pleasure alone. 
The vibrations ripple throughout your sex, curious as to how the wand would feel inside you. You sheath it inside without a care, exploding with a mewl when the spasming toy greets your eager walls. It feels glorious, shuddering with pleasure as you indulge in the gracious vibrations. 
You’re reaching your limit, so sucked up into your own world you crazily speed up the vibrator, needing it to beat inside your pulsing walls until you unravel like a wind up toy. The vibrations ceaselessly ripple through you now, the speed so delicious your hands automatically latch into the headboard behind you. You hang on for dear life as a powerful orgasm sneaks up on you, building, building, and building, your moans unstoppable, your pussy walls throbbing, your legs shaking, body begging for your much-needed release. 
And just when your cries reach a crescendo, your bedroom door suddenly swings open, revealing your winded, cross husband. “Y/N-!” 
He never finishes his sentence, because the most powerful, earth-shattering orgasm erupts within you, your body jerking off the bed as you convulse. Every muscle in your body tenses with immeasurable pleasure, falling into your sheets, skin slickened with sweat, utterly spent of all your energy. 
You pant wildly as you come down your high, barely able to register Taehyung’s glowering eyes and his rageful, reprimanding voice. “You did not just—I can’t believe you!” 
Feeling the weight of your body sink into the mattress, your half-lidded eyes are the only thing able to move, sliding over to an angry Taehyung. “You’re literally evil, a goddamn witch!” He shouts, throwing his arms up in the air. “I swear I’ll only tolerate this shit in our home, you better not pull this revenge crap when we’re in public!” 
You have nothing to counter him, breaking into a fucked-out grin as you send him a thumbs up, elated that you’d successfully gotten back at him. “This is… for yesterday… asshole.” 
“Y/N, I’m serious.” Tahyung presses, pushing his jacket backwards to perch his hands on his hips. “You know we have Hoseok’s dinner this Friday; I swear if you don’t behave by then, I’m going to retaliate far worse than you.” 
You soak in his threat paired with an accusing finger, though it only inflates your ego. His challenge ignites something inside you, gaining enough strength to bite back. “Scared I’m going to win, loverboy?” 
Taehyung scoffs. “You’re not winning, you damn brat.” 
“We’ll see about that.” You retort, staring down Taehyung with scrutinizing eyes as he shoots back a fiery look. He eventually has enough, storming out of your bedroom as a string of complaints leave his mouth. 
You plop back into the sheets, floating on the cloud nine by the time sleep threatens to wash over your blissed-out, exhausted body. 
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The next three days of your life consisted of sheer mayhem.
Taehyung wasn’t kidding when he proclaimed the level of his retaliation. Peace has been a fragile concept in your household ever since, having transformed into a makeshift battlefield where you and your husband snag every opportunity to gain your revenge on each other. 
Tuesday morning when you’d hopped in the shower, Taehyung slipped inside in the middle of your shampooing. You cocked a questioning brow as you faced him—he shot back an unbothered shrug. 
“What? I can’t shower in my own house?” 
Rolling your eyes, you sighed as you returned to lathering up your hair, allowing him to do whatever he must. You both washed up quite normally, pretty distanced from one another until Taehyung began purposefully invading your space. 
He constantly reached over you for his shampoo, body wash, even your loofah with feigned innocence, deliberately brushing up against your naked body each time. Eventually, his hands naturally began roaming your wet skin, and here came your perpetual doom. 
The sensation of his touch felt intensifying, biting your lip to manage your arousal when he skimmed your sensitive spots. When his pillowy lips found their way to your neck, you melted into his strong chest, relishing in the shower water streaming down your entangled figures. 
His fingers traversed your body sensually, stroking you with such purposeful seduction, you nearly moaned. It wasn’t until his flesh caressed your backside did you recognize his sneaky scheme. You swatted him away with a scoff, sneering at him and his cunningness—your husband only flashed you a shit-eating smirk. 
That following day, you decided to be Satan's spawn. You twirled your pen as you eyed your gorgeous husband lead this morning’s meeting, watching him effortlessly carry himself with grace and professionalism—you ignored the arousal he stirred inside you. 
Once the meeting finished, you purposefully stalled on collecting your papers, watching Taehyung bid a farewell to everyone as they exited. Once your unsuspecting husband rose from his seat to vacate the area, you ambushed him, blocking him from opening the door. 
His eyes widened with surprised, though hardened into scrutinizing slits once he figured out your game. You argued for all of five minutes before you walked the delicious man back to his seat, shoving him into his chair. You slid a leg over his lap, seductively toying with his Tom Ford tie.
He watched you do so, his jaw flexing as he tongued the inside of his cheek. “Having fun, Princess?” He  condescended. “You can play with me all you want; we all know at the end of day I’m your boss, and the CEO your pussy.” 
Bitterly laughing, you harshly pulled him towards your face with his tie, eyeing him down. You let a finger glide over his perfect cupid’s bow and down the column of his throat, brushing his lips with your own. “And at the end of the day, we all know you’re an absolute simp for me, so who really owns who?” 
Taehyung remained adamant you’ll break first, challenging you back, though once you leaned over and whispered something scandalous in his ear, he erupted into angry flames, simmering with betrayal. You proudly strutted out the meeting room, an accomplished smile plastering across your face.
Who knew going commando could get your husband’s panties in a twist? Men are sincerely so simple.
But, come the next day, Taehyung decided he’s not fucking around anymore. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when your office door unexpectedly shut, flitting up to find your Adonis-like husband leaning against it, dressed in an incredibly dapper, three-piece navy blue suit. Taehyung tilted his head, piercing your soul with his playful irises, hands shoved into his pockets. 
You quirked a suspicious brow, questioning him of his arrival. “What the fuck do you want, loverboy?” 
He raised his brows at your tone. “I don’t think that’s how you address your boss, Mrs. Kim.” 
“My bad,” you retorted. “What the fuck do you want, Mr. Kim?” 
Tonguing the inside of his cheek, a smug grin teases Taehyung’s lips at your use of an honorific, his index finger sliding across his bottom lip. “I’m here to speak to you as Mrs. Kim, a talented architect. I wanted to discuss something very important.”
Clearing your throat, you unwillingly welcomed him to sit. “Be my guest then, sir.” 
Taehyung twitched at your use of ‘sir’, suppressing a cough. He unbuttoned his debonair suit as he seated himself across from you. “Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I’ll cut right to the chase, you must be a busy woman.” 
You appreciatively smiled at his politeness. 
“Essentially, what I wanted to discuss is quite personal, though I wanted your opinion as an architect regarding the matter.” He began; you followed his example of professionalism.
“Of course, what’s the matter, Mr. Kim?” 
“Well, as you know, I’m married.” He proudly established, toying with his wedding band. “To this absolutely gorgeous, stellar woman. Love of my life, really, wouldn’t have it any other way.” He casually proclaimed—you attempted to hide your flushed cheeks as he spoke. 
“I see; how lucky you are?” 
“Very lucky indeed.” He gracefully smiles. “However, she has this horrible habit of being an insufferable brat and disobeying me—so I’ve been devising many ways to punish her.” 
Gulping, you nearly choke on your spit, trying to follow whatever act he’s performing. “Pardon me?” 
“Yes, we have a Dom/sub relationship and I’ve been considering ways I can punish her for her attitude.” Taehyung nonchalantly admits. “I was thinking about installing some new things in our sex room to ensure she obeys me.” 
Coughing, you can barely look the man seriously in the eye—he’s surely fucking with you, but his Oscar-worthy perfomance had you following his every step. “W-wow, she sounds like a handful.” You grimace, scrunching your nose—who knew you’d be referring to yourself in third-person today? “Though isn’t this a bit too personal, Mr. Kim? It may be unprofessional to discuss something of this matter with one of your employees.” 
From across your desk, Taehyung gave you a look darker than hell itself, shattering all your confidence. He had single-handedly submitted you with his intimidating eyes, soon rising from his seat. He rounded your desk, settling behind your chair, gulping when you felt his domineering aura permeate your back. 
He leaned over, placing his hands either side of you against your desk to trap you, his lips dangerously close to your ear—he brushed your helix with a hot, deep whisper. “Are you suggesting I don’t know how to be professional at my own company, Mrs. Kim?” 
The sharpest surge of arousal spiked through your cunt, shuddering when his heady Invictus cologne flooded your nostrils. His aftershave was killing you; did he just have to fucking shave this morning? 
Weting your lips, you swallowed harshly, shaking in your heels. “I wouldn’t do such a thing, Mr. Kim.” 
“Mm,” he hums. “That’s what I thought.” His caramel-smooth, baritone voice lights your pussy on fire, squirming when he speaks again. “Now, I still need your professional opinion, Mrs. Kim.” 
“Y-Yes.” Your palms begin sweating, tightly clutching them together to resist shoving your tongue down Taehyung’s throat—how could he intimidate you and turn you on in the same breath? He’s a powerful, powerful man. “What would you like to ask?” 
“I’d like to ask about the architectural science and safety measures of installing something in my sex room.” His unbothered, breezy tone ticks you off, yet arouses you the same; how could he ask something so blatantly scandalous? This man was truly never one to fuck with, especially when he was serious. “It’s for my wife.” 
Holding your breath, you clear your clogged throat. “What-what would you need to know?” 
Embodying the devil himself, Taehyung’s voice dropped an octave, voice deeper than the depths of hell. “I wanted to know the best way I could suspend her from the ceiling.” 
Your eyes widened, face burning so hot your cheeks could’ve melted. You shoveed your hands between your thighs, attempting to manage the wave of cum he gushed out of you. You nearly scream when Taehyung curls your hair behind the ear his lips brushed, his sweet, heated breaths lighting your skin on fire. 
“Tell me, Mrs. Kim.” 
You clutch the fabric of your skirt for dear life, pressing your thighs together. Your breathing was uneven, hitching as Taehyung’s intoxicating presence made your heart roar inside your chest. Your raging hormones screamed at you to simply jump the tempting man—jump him and bounce all over his perfect dick until you release a year’s worth of orgasms, let your sweaty bodies rut against each other until he spills his hot seed inside you. 
But once your pride takes over the conversation, you grow angry, commending him for his clever attack, but never surrendering. You turn towards him with glowering eyes, batting his hand off you. “How’s about I tell you to fuck off, Mr. Kim?” 
Taehyung heartily laughs, entertained by you. “Why, Mrs. Kim? I was simply asking a question, how dare you speak to your superior with that tone?”
“Perhaps you should ask your gorgeous, talented, wonderful wife.” You snark. “She doesn’t even sound like the problem, this all seems like a you-problem.” 
Taehyung leans back to his full height as he rounds your desk, wearing a confident, shit-eating smirk. “We’ll see if it’s a me-problem when she’s the one hanging from my ceiling.” He bites back, leaning his hands on your desk. “Absolutely naked, ready for my taking.” 
His sinful stare grips your very soul. You inhale sharply when you feel his dominant, alpha male energy permeate you, pussy aching to be full of him. When he shot one last bounce of his brows, his suave walk out of your office lit you up like a firecracker, nearly throwing your pen at him. 
The constant battle for a winner continued into Thursday, wildly scandalous shenanigans headlining your useless war. 
Sending each other endless thirst traps on snapchat, cheeky nudes, erotic voice notes, teasing touches, sudden naked appearances in close vicinity to each other—absolutely nothing was left off the table. 
Taehyung even purposefully brought his work out equipment home to exercise in front of you, coaxing essence out of like sap from a tree—you nearly ripped his shorts down to gobble up his cock once you spotted the glistening sweat on his lean muscles, heard his deep, masculine grunts as he lifted, watched him heavily breathe between each set. 
You’d bought the skimpiest lingerie set possible to raid one of his conferences at home. He was seated on your spacious love seat in the entertainment area, eloquently speaking about some transactions with his financial team. He sounded incredibly sexy, even looked it, too—sleeves rolled up, top of his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his delicious chest.
You adored the rageful look in his eyes once you presented yourself, completely unbothered. You made room on his lap as you carelessly sat yourself on his crotch—it was your throne, anyway. He shot you an irritated expression as you courageously tipped your chin, clicking Netflix on your gigantic TV. 
You casted your bare legs over the leather armrest, cozying up your ass over his clothed dick. Taehyung twitched when he felt your pussy—your lace panties were unfairly non-existent. 
He cleared his throat as he continued listening to the others in his meeting, attempting to ignore your nearly naked body casually sitting on him. He snuck glances at your cleavage, two round globes supported by a push-up bra, though attempted to (unsuccessfully) ignore it. His arms caged around you once he began working on his laptop, effortlessly typing away. 
You leaned your head against Taehyung’s warm chest, snuggling into him like a puzzle piece. 
Your revenge plan began when you finally arrived at the perfect scene to start it all, considering the movie you chose, of all films. 
Fifty Shades of Grey. 
You let the sounds of Christian and Anatasia having sex fill the room, even putting up the volume just to hear them better. Taehyung flashed his annoyed eyes at the screen, rolling them when he sees you upping the volume. He remained unbothered until you maneuvered your ass over his crotch for comfort—you rubbed his subtly erect member, feeling it twitch. 
He subdued a groan when you did it again, promiscuously adjusting your position. Your husband remained adamant on ignoring you, containing himself. But when you purposefully gyrated your hips over him, Taehyung instantly grappled you, digging his fingers into your skin.
 “Y/N, I will literally fuck you against our TV.” He hissed, his irises furiously glowing with warning. “Sit still and watch your movie, or the TV won’t be the only thing I break.” 
You swallowed harshly hearing the sternness in his timbre—he was serious about possibly fucking you so hard he breaks your back. You decided to oblige, settling against his chest again to silently watch your movie—you actually liked the Fifty Shades franchise, anyway.
Things remained a little tense after that, but not malicious. Dinner later that day was lukewarm, both of you eating in silence, until somehow, the tension boiled over. 
Taehyung had sent Mrs. Choi and Seo home earlier that day, leaving you and him to clean up. Washing dishes should’ve been perfectly normal, if it weren’t for the many times you both constantly brushed each other, already vibrating with so much sexual tension, Taehyung threw his drying towel away to take your lips. 
He had pressed you into the kitchen counter, hoisting you onto the surface as he ground his hips into your barely dressed pussy, robe flung open. Your perky breasts rubbed against his shirt—you were still wearing your lingerie set, and clearly he’d had enough. His hands constantly roamed your body, brushing your bare thighs up and down, up and down until his fingers instinctively slid towards you center, swiping through your damp panties. 
You gasped into his mouth, eliciting something carnal to ignite his eyes. Before you knew it, a full-on, heated makeout session ensued. 
Clearly the 5 days you’d gone without each other had you craving the other in irrevocable ways. Taehyung’s pants were hot against your lips, biting, sucking, licking them as though he were starved, as though the only meal he craved was you.  
You hissed when he pressed the pads of his fingers into you, incredibly sensitive down there. Your hands naturally aimed for his belt, your hips shamelessly riding his masterful fingers. It wasn’t until you ripped open his pants did reality strike you both like lightning—you pulled away from each other instantly. 
Taehyung accused you of attempting to seduce him, while you spat back that he’s the one who started it. The argument lasted long enough that you both decided to sleep in different rooms—sharing a bed would not only heighten your anger, but the craving to jump each other’s bones. 
Now, Friday had arrived, also known as operation Hoseok’s dinner party, and also day 6 without sex. 
“Hob-ah, how’s your recent club been doing? Wasn’t there an issue with one of the bouncers?” 
“Jimin, c’mon, just choose a goddamn gift for your fiance’s birthday already.” 
“Jungkook, stop playing with your dick and fess up—you’re clearly into your wife.” 
The ridiculous chatter is endless as you and Taehyung’s friends gather at an exclusive restaurant for a night out, Namjoon and Seokjin accompanied by their wives, while the rest indulge in friendly conversation. 
Hoseok was celebrating the stellar news about the progress with his new beau; they’d started officially dating.
Everyone currently bugged the poor girl with nitpicky questions, throwing around harmless jokes and insults at an embarrassed, though elated Hoseok. Taehyung indulge in here and there, though predominantly remained focused on his phone; it seemed he was receiving important emails tonight. 
Your husband examined his screen carefully as he reclined in the restaurant’s booth, which should’ve been okay, if it weren’t for the firm hand he kept clasped on your thigh. It was a habit of his: Taehyung claimed he always needed to be touching your scrumptious thighs. 
Currently, he danced the tips of fingers across your bare skin. It was something harmless and ingrained in him, your husband drawing useless circles and patterns as he scrutinized the lines of a dense email. You ground your teeth trying to manage the constant touch of his hand; you were a pathetic whore for Taehyung’s gorgeous, veiny, gigantic hands caressing you, and you were near exploding. 
His rings looked impeccable, paired with the Patek Phillipe watch you gifted him for Christmas hugging his wrist, his wedding band glimmering under the restaurant’s ambient yellow lights. 
You squirm your toes trying to contain yourself. His fingertips are stroking the inside of your thigh, tirelessly teasing you with lewd ideas. Once he travels a mere inch towards your core, you’ve had enough, suddenly shoving his hand off you. Taehyung sends you a puzzled look, asking what’s wrong through his coffee irises. 
You respond with a mocking look, annoyed. Taehyung shoots a ‘what the fuck’ expression as you cross your arms, ignoring him. It only makes him press you harder, clasping your arm to encourage you to look at him—the tension between you two catches the eyes of a certain someone.
“Oof, trouble in paradise, friends?” Seokjin notes beside you. 
You and Taehyung both turn heads, caught like two deers in headlights. 
“You’ve both barely spoken to each other, is everything alright?” Seokjin considerately asks. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.” 
Swallowing, you let Taehyung do the talking. “We’re fine, hyung. Thanks for asking.” 
“You sure?” He queries. “You know you both can come to me with anything, I have plenty of experience with my own relationship. I feel a little sad seeing you guys like this.” 
Touched by Seokjin’s concern, your eyes soften. Taehyung light-heartedly laughs, landing a friendly palm on Seokjin’s shoulder. “It’s nothing like that, hyung. Y/N and I are just… having a competition, you could say.” 
“A competition?” He quirks a curious brow. “What kind?” 
Taehyung flashes you a look as though asking your permission to proceed—you send him a confirming nod. Leaning towards Seokjin’s ear, Taehyung whispers the details about your current kerfuffle; Seokjin immediately erupts into hearty laughter.
“No fucking way, you guys are having a competition to see how long you can last without sex?!” 
Seokjin being the ever-so loud, rambunctious member of the group, the entire table is privy to your childish war, erupting into amused cackles.
“What? These two?” Namjoon points between you with a snort. “These two who can barely keep their hands off each other? You can’t even take them out without risking getting booked for indecency.” 
“No goddamn way,” Hoseok comments, stifling his giddy laughter. “Namjoon’s right, I bet there isn’t a single universe where these two fuck bunnies even last two days.” 
“Two days?” Jungkook chips in, clucking his tongue. “That’s being nice, hyung. They could barely last a day with the amount that they fuck—I literally have trauma with calling them because I know I’ll hear a porno in the making like last time.”
“Taehyung, how could you not tell me this?” Jimin acts scandalized, slamming his hand on the table; he may be a bit drunk. “I’m your best friend!” 
“Woah, okay, calm down, you clowns.” Taehyung gestures at his friends. “Jimin, it’s between Y/N and I, so I didn’t say anything. And you three, for your fucking information, we’ve gone 6 days without sex, so shut the fuck up, will you?” 
“6 days? Holy shit, somebody write this down!” Seokjin hollers, wiping his fake tears. “It’s a historical day for society!” 
“6 days without sex? Oh, these lovebirds aren’t lasting. Someone call the psych ward, they’re gonna go insane soon.” Jimin proclaims. 
“You kidding me? Give them both some alcohol and I bet they’ll fuck like wild animals when they get home.” Jungkook slams his hefty wallet on the table, scouring for bills. “Who wants to bet money on it?” 
Namjoon retaliates. “At home? Please, Jungkook, 70,000 won says they’ll do it in the Mercedes before even getting there.” 
“Who says the restaurant’s bathroom is off limits?” Hoseok chimes in. “130,000 that they’ll fuck in there; even Eunbi’s bathroom wasn’t safe.”
“Please, Hob-ah.” Seokjin grievously laments. “I still have nightmares about that.” 
“Okay! All of you, shut the fuck up!” You derisively sing-song, scolding the rowdy boys. “You guys just love picking at our sex life because of you’re jealous of it.” 
“Exactly; you’re all just bitter you don’t have a relationship like ours.” Taehyung spits at them as he curls an arm around your shoulder; you back him up with vehement nods. 
“Ew, I don’t wanna to be like you two nasty, lovey-dovey losers.” Jungkook retorts. “I’ve already got a crazy sex life of my own, thank you very much, which by the way I gotta tell you all…” 
And Jungkook goes on to explain an insane update on the current fuss with his wife, finally lifting the hot seat you and Taehyung had found yourselves in. The night continued with fun-filled laughter, chatter, and a plentiful amount of food—shit only hit the fan when alcohol was served. 
You and Taehyung both adopted the mindset of drowning your sorrows, inhaling shot after shot. You both became much more free-spirited once liquor entered your systems, finally loosening up enough to have a good time, forgetting all about your petty bet. You laughed into Taehyung’s shoulder as he told you charming jokes and shamelessly flirted with you, he smiled from ear-to-ear watching you cutely giggle—you remained closely entangled together the whole night, lost in the other’s eyes. 
Your drunken giggles were endless as you and Taehyung piled out of the restaurant with the rest of your party, your arms slung around his neck, his snug around your lower back as you fooled around. You’re both busy chuckling at Taehyung trying to kiss you when Namjoon patted your husband’s shoulder. 
“Hey, Taehyung-ah, you two getting home alright?” 
Taehyung shoots Namjoon a narrow-eyed look, slurring his words when he speaks. “Who d’you think I am, hyung? Ovously I wouldn’t dive-drive when I drank alcol.” Your husband hiccups, which causes you to laugh at him. 
Namjoon’s lips curve with a fond, dimply smile, laughing. “Alright, lovebirds. Get home safe.” Namjoon affectionately claps Taehyung’s back. The pair of you send him a drunken thumbs up before Namjoon locates his wife. Taehyung suddenly faces you, cupping your cheeks. 
“Hey, Princess.” He hiccups, his lips pouting as he stares at your plushy ones. “I’m sowry I drank when I’m the diver-driver; I shouldm’ve been more reponsible.” 
Your heart melts as he drunkenly rambles, cupping his cheeks back. “Is okey, Taehyung.” You coo, communicating with him in pout. “You work hard enough; you deserve a bwreak.” 
He brightly grins as he bops your nose, causing you both to stupidly laugh. Mr. Kang ends up finding you two, greeting him as though he were your saviour. He sincerely was, because once he began driving, the alcohol caused you both to disregard your surroundings. Your husband tugged you over his lap and connected your lips for shameless kisses, touches, even temporary stripping of clothes. 
You both incessantly giggled and smiled throughout the steamy session, happily enjoying each other’s company. Mr. Kang even faintly smiled at you two before placing up the partition. 
Arriving home, you burst through the door, liquor having stunted your ability to have a logical conversation. Tossing away your shoes, you run towards Taehyung, hooking your arms around his gorgeously carved neck. 
“Taehyung! Oh my god, we’re home, this is our home!” You drunkenly marvel. 
“Right? Our home, all ours.” Taehyung joins in on your fun, palms encasing your waist, slowly waddling you both inside after shutting the door. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if it wasn’t just us two, though?” 
“Yes, yes!” You excitedly shout. “We need babies, we need so many babies!” 
Taehyung warmly chuckles, his cheeks flushed with alcohol. “I don’t know about so many babies, Princess—it’s gonna hurt you.” 
“But I want your babies!” You angrily pout, leaning your chin on his strong chest. “You don’t want my babies, Taehyung?” 
Taehyung softens at your intoxicated expression, sickeningly in love with you. His palms affectionately encircle your waist, holding you close. “Of course I want your babies, baby. But pregnancy is a lot—I don’t want it to hurt you.” 
“But I need your babies!” You valiantly proclaim, crashing your lips against Taehyung’s so powerfully, the man nearly tumbles backwards. You end up toppling him over your couch, straddling him as he cradles your body over his. 
You both drunkenly make out, sloppy and disarrayed, relishing in each other’s taste before you break away. “I wanna have your babies, Taehyung.” You pout, a sad look dawning on your features. Your soft irises fall to his neck,toying with the top button of his dress shirt. “Why can’t we have a baby?” 
Taehyung’s heart sinks hearing your frail voice, lightly brushing some hair from your face. “We’ll have a baby someday, pretty girl.” He comforts you, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “We’ll keep trying, I promise; I’ll give you all the babies you want.” 
You attempt to blink moisture out of your eyes as depression washes over you; sometimes Vodka really backfired on your emotions. Lately, things have been difficult trying to conceive with Taehyung; you've been trying for 6 months now, and you’ve gained nothing but disappointment. 
“But we keep trying… and no babies.” Your bottom lip slightly trembles, sniffling. “I want a baby, Tae.” 
The brokenness of your tone is what shatters your husband; it sounded like a cry from deep within your soul. Taehyung’s palms immediately encase your cheeks, his heart softening. He hates the sad pout on your lips, even watching your eyes gloss over. Heart-broken, he softly exhales, pressing your mouths together sweetly, so gently, you were certain your insides melted. 
His kiss ignites something inside you, springing up onto your knees to gain some leverage. You use the height advantage to devour him, Taehyung’s hands sensually roaming your body. Your hips grind into Taehyung’s instinctually, deep groans slipping past his lips. 
You shudder into his mouth when he thrusts up into you, your clothed cunt welcomed by his rising member. You take his bottom lip between your teeth to bite him, licking over your teeth marks before plunging your tongue inside his mouth. 
Your husband licks your tongue, sharing your saliva without a regard for anything as ferality overwhelms him—you share the same sentiment. 
“Taehyung,” you breathe, hormones surging through your veins. “Put a baby in me, I want your babies.” 
Your plea is hot against Taehyung’s lips, constant smacking noises filling the room as you nastily makeout. Taehyung groans when you grind down over his crotch, deliciously rubbing against his clothed tip. “I’ll give you anything you want, pretty girl.” 
His uneven breaths light you on fire, driven by sheer lust. Paired with the alcohol and six days with absitinence, your mind is stupidly desparate for sex right now.  
“Wanna have your babies, Tae.” You moan into his mouth, Taehyung’s hands sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh. He lifts up your skirt to roam your bare cheeks, smacking both as he guides your hips over his lap, growling out deep, masculine groans. 
“Oh, I’ll fucking put a baby in you,” he pants, slithering his tongue inside you. You can taste the Whiskey he drank, melting into his strong body as his digits emblazon your ass. 
You run on adrenaline, craving Taehyung with such carnal need, you’re uncontrollable. You hotly whisper against his swollen, wet lips, fingers weaved through his sexy hair. “Taehyung, please… fuck me.” 
Taehyung’s eyes shine with desire, pupils dilating at the request. His body tenses, his cock twitches, his muscles even readying themselves, but he needs to ask. “Baby… are you sure—”
“Please, Tae,” you beg, tugging his luscious locks. “I’m fucking aching for you.” 
Your cunt flutters over his lap, sighing when the shape of him caresses you. You’re so incredibly sensitive, cum gushes out of you like waterworks. You physically shudder, bracing Taehyung’s shoulder as your hips develop a mind of their own, grinding over his crotch. 
Taehyung still hesitates, leaving affectionate pecks along your jaw. “Say it,” he commands, thrusting up into your sex once again. “Say you want me, Princess, say how much you want it.” 
“I–I want it, Tae, so badly.” You strangle out, pussy drowning with your essence, vibrating for his flesh to be lodged inside you. “Want you inside me… want you to fuck me like a bad girl, fuck me like a dirty slut.” 
Taehyung shudders out a sexy, deep groan, his dick twitching inside his pants. “Fuck, Y/N…” 
“I’m so fucking horny, baby. I need you.” You beseech, arm slinging around his neck to bury your hand in his hair, your unoccupied one tugging his tucked dress shirt out of his pants. “Fuck me right here, right now. Fuck me like your pathetic whore.” You drunkenly plead, promiscuously rolling your hips over him, body operating on alcohol and insufferable horniness alone.
Taehyung literally growls, an animalistic need overwhelming him. He snatches your waist and spins you to his side, rapidly pinning you to the couch. He crawls over you and cages you underneath, lips crashing into yours. 
His hands quickly ride up your skirt, tearing off your clothes before his thumbs cling to your underwear, stripping it off with hot finesse. He instinctively unclasps his belt, removing the irritating thing to push down his pants, freeing his incredibly hard, rock-solid length. Your grabby hands demanded his clothes be off, quickly stripping him as well to reveal his deliciously masculine body. 
Everything else that occurred afterwards was a blur to you, only able to remember certain details. You recalled your husband’s gravelly, husky groans, his hands desperately gripping you, the dark, plum-coloured kisses he embellished on your skin. 
You remember his powerful body manuevering over yours, the incessant sounds of his laboured breaths by your ear. You seldom remember the hot things he whispered, but you remember the way you felt, they way he felt, the way your pussy throbbed for more, the way your fingers tugged his hair, eventually scraped down his neck to leave red trails along his sweaty skin, the painful, but pleasurable burn between your legs.
But, next thing you knew, the alcohol intoxicated your head so much, unprecedented exhaustion overwhelmed your body. Taehyung exhibited the same symptoms, his thrusts losing precision, harshness, until suddenly, he lost speed altogether. His hips eventually stilled, barely able to keep his eyes open. 
Yours threaten to fall shut, too, only recalling the mutual look you and Taehyung gave to each other. You faintly remember him pulling out of you before he collapsed over your body, your own succumbing to unavoidable fatigue. 
The only reminder he was even next to you was the soft, familiar beating of his heart, and the sheltering warmth of his skin. 
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Taehyung awakens to the feeling of something on his chest, groaning as his eyes flutter open. He rubs one before peeking down, focusing on the particular weight over his heart—his eyes widen immediately. 
You’re lying completely naked on his chest. 
He curses under his breath, his head finally clear enough to understand his reality. He sees himself naked as well, running a stressed hand over his groggy face with a curse. 
“Fuck… did we have sex?” 
All Taehyung remembers from last night was his poor decision to drown in Whiskey, and the incredible horniness that attacked him as a result. He remembers making out with you, remembers getting handsy, recalls the faint memory of dirty-talk, but scarcely remembers the actual sex. 
He blinks multiple times as he gazes at you, your frame softly rising and falling as you sleep. Once his mind comes up empty of any other excuses, he sighs as he comes to his conclusion. 
“Yeah, we definitely had sex.” 
Groaning, Taehyung curses when he remembers your petty little competition, worsening his already agonizing headache. It should probably be the least of his concerns, but he’s still pissed he can’t remember who initiated things, meaning another future argument with you. 
Kissing his teeth, Taehyung snatches his phone and taps his screen, registering the time. It’s nearly the hour Mrs. Choi and Seo come by the house to begin cooking breakfast. Taehyung’s head falls back against the couch, grievously sighing.
Taehyung carefully maneuvers himself out from under you, affectionate with your slumbering body. He slips on his boxers and pants from last night, next locating a blanket. He drapes a light one over your naked figure, soon hoisting you up in his arms. 
He’s making his way towards the stairs when the door suddenly swings open, making dreaded eye contact with his two housekeepers. The ladies pause upon seeing a shirtless Taehyung carrying you bridal-style, though Taehyung’s quick to defuse the moment.
“Good morning, Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Seo.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” The two ladies kindly greet him, removing their jackets and shoes. 
“Sorry about the mess,” Taehyung ticks his head in the direction of your sprawled clothes. “We’d drank last night and weren’t exactly in our right minds.” 
“That’s alright, Mr. Kim.” Mrs. Seo politely assures him. “You and Mrs. Kim are young lovers, sir, you should enjoy your youth.” 
“That’s right, Mr. Kim.” Mrs. Choi chimes in. “Young love is precious, never let us old ladies stop you!” 
Taehyung cracks a fond smile, laughing. “Thank you, Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Seo.” 
“Would you like us to cook some hangover soup for yourself and Mrs. Kim?” Mrs. Choi asks as she meanders in with her purse. 
“Yes, please, though only some for me right now, Y/N’s still sleeping.” Taehyung’s eyes shift to you in his arms, silently doting on your angelic, sleeping face. “I would like her food to be served when she’s awake. I want it nice and hot for her, if you don’t mind.” 
“Of course, not at all.” Mrs. Choi benignly reassures, already stepping into the kitchen. 
“Thank you. Prepare some ibuprofen as well, she’s a horrible drunk, as usual.” Taehyung jokes, earning a laugh from the ladies. Mrs. Seo guarantees Taehyung that everything will be in place for you, finally making his way towards the staircase. 
“Oh, and remember to serve her citrus fruits,” Taehyung calls out as he ascends the stairs, protectively carrying you. “Lots of fruits for her, in general. And don’t forget her vitamins, please.” 
The ladies nod affirmatively before returning to their work, leaving Taehyung to vanish upstairs. 
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“Shit, my car’s in the shop.” 
You lightly hit your fist against your palm, kissing your teeth when you recall your lack of transportation today. It’s currently a calm, late Saturday afternoon, having spent the last hour getting ready for your evening out with Hana. 
Thank God your massive headache subsided after your delicious hangover soup, your housekeepers really were the best cooks. They must've been magicians, though, because their food had also granted you the ability to regain your memories from last night. 
You muffled your scream into your pillow when you remembered you and Taehyung having sex; your sore legs were enough to know it was real, too, and not a dream. You whined at the idea that somebody lost the competition, and you’re unsure of exactly who it was, but 70% sure it was you. 
As a result, you decided to subconsciously ignore Taehyung today. Thankfully, he spent his morning out, having gone golfing with some board members before returning home to work quietly in his study. 
Memories of last night’s steamy, sweaty sex entered your mind every now and then throughout the morning, though you forced yourself to pretend it didn’t happen, and that it didn’t count, either. 
Swallowing your pride, you sigh as you patter over to Taehyung’s study, lightly knocking on the door. 
“Come in.” You hear him request, carefully twisting the knob open. You clear your throat as you waddle inside, Taehyung’s gaze lifting from his laptop to observe you. He visibly brightens, as though his body has an innate reaction to your presence, though he schools himself, returning to his work. 
“Good afternoon, Princess.” 
The addressment curves your lips in the slightest, lacing your fingers behind your back. “Good afternoon, Tae.” 
“How’s your headache?” He queries, sifting through paperwork. “Mrs. Seo told me you slept in because of it.” 
“Yeah, I could barely get out of bed, honestly. Though the hangover soup helped, and the ibuprofen, too.” You detail. “They told me you specifically requested both. Thank you.” 
“No need to thank me, love.” He replies, flexing his neck sideways with a grimace before focusing on his work; his shoulder seemed to be bothering him. You hesitate offering him a massage considering the awkward tension from last night, though his voice interrupts your thought. “Why did you come to my study, did you need something?” 
“Oh, yeah.” A figurative lightbulb pops into thin air above you, extending your hand. “Could I have the keys to your Mercedes? My car’s in the shop.” 
He furrows his brows. “My car? Are you going out?” 
You grab the ends of your blush pink baby doll, lightly swaying the thin satin fabric, even puckering your lips to indicate your makeup. “A bit obvious, isn’t it?” 
Taehyung sends you a deadpan expression. “With who?” 
His stoic energy ticks you off, letting your sarcasm loose. “My secret boyfriend.” 
Your husband shoots you a harsh look. “Be serious, Y/N.”
Letting out a long, deep sigh, you confess. “With Hana; she wants to complain about my brother.” 
“Will you be out all night?” 
“Don’t think so, I’m visiting the site of the new headquarters building Sunday morning and I want to sleep well.” You honestly inform him—he amicably nods. 
“Alright, I’ll give you the keys, but do me a quick favour first, please?” He asks, pointing towards one of his shelves on his left. “I need one of those old logs on the 7th shelf, could you grab it for me?” 
Nodding, you follow his instructions indicating which specific log, stepping towards his shelf. You kiss your teeth registering that it’s too high, locating a nearby stepping stool. You almost climb onto it until you suddenly freeze, remembering something vital; you’re wearing nothing underneath your babydoll. 
You face flushes once you consider that if you climb the stool, you’ll be flashing Taehyung your bare pussy. While on another day that wouldn’t have been a problem, the current sticky situation made you feel shy about it—he could potentially believe you’re seducing him. 
Clearing your throat, you timidly clasp your hands together, facing him. “Um… it’s a little high for me, I think you’ll need to grab it.” 
Taehyung tilts his head. “You can use the stepping stool; it’s specifically for you.” 
Rolling your eyes, you decide to admit the truth. “Well, I’m not wearing anything underneath this, and last I remember you think I’m trying to seduce you 24/7, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung instantly recognizes your dig, narrowing his eyes at you. He huffs out before drawing back his chair, rising from his seat. His long legs carry him so fast you have limited time to move out of his way, Taehyung simply reaching over your head. 
It’s a minor thing, and yet, it’s the soft hand Taehyung clasps around your hip as he reaches up that lights your skin on fire. His touch through the thin babydoll feels exhilarating, suddenly reminded of his body on yours last night. The sex drought had surely made you insane; how could his domestic touch and mere presence behind you make you squirm? His larger body always made you feel so small, but in a way that ignited your bones. 
You shrug off his touch once the image of his broad frame in comparison to yours ruins you—Taehyung cocks a suspicious brow as he retrieves the log. He returns to his desk without questioning it, plopping down the heavy binder before opening his drawer, unearthing his keys. 
“You know the rules; both about my car and going out.” He reminds you, jangling the keys. “Think you know the car ones, but I think you need a reminder of the going out ones.” 
You tilt your head, curiously contorting your lips. 
Taehyung tongues his cheek, swallowing. “You need to kiss me before you go.” 
Your eyes widen, awkwardly shuffling your feet. “I thought you said no kissing?” 
“I said quick pecks are allowed.” 
Seeing his point, you roll your eyes. You paddle over to him, watching him turn his chair to face you. He nonchalantly leans back, manspreading his expansive legs as he blankly waits for you, holding out the keys.
With slightly flustered cheeks, you swallow, carefully leaning down—his domineering presence is sincerely wounding your resolve. Your hand cradles his bicep as you tenderly press your lips to his, kissing him. You’re surprised when he actually reciprocates it, kissing you back. Feeding into the sweet liplock for all of six seconds, you pull away before his scent hypnotizes you, snatching the keys. 
“Thank you.” You quickly mumble before scurrying away, yearning to be out of his study already. Taehyung doesn’t say anything else, which at first, makes you glad, though on second thought, causes your heart to sink. He didn’t mention last night; would he not have used it to solidify his win? Or is he purposefully ignoring it because he’s pissed?
Did he possibly not even remember last night? There’s no way, you’re certain Taehyung woke up first and tucked you into bed; he surely found you both lying naked together, too. 
Swallowing your pride, you swivel around on your foot. “By the way… um, about last night.” 
He lifts his gaze, paying attention to you. “Yes?” 
“It… it doesn’t count.” You manage to say. “We were both drunk, and it’s hard to remember, anyway.” 
Taehyung furrows an intimidating brow of his. “I understand, but it still completely counts, Y/N. We had sex.” 
“We fell asleep before we could even orgasm, Tae.” You argue. “It doesn’t count, alcohol just makes us really horny.” 
“We were already horny before the alcohol, Y/N.” Taehyung reasons. “It does count; we couldn’t control ourselves and had sex, let’s consider it a draw.” 
You exclaim with confusion, hand finding your hip. “What? A draw? No way some drunk sex ends everything at a draw.” 
Your husband sighs behind his desk. “Yes it does, Y/N. Like you said, neither of us really remember it, so it’s no use analyzing who seduced who first. Let's act like grown ups and call it a fair draw, okay?” 
Scoffing, you fold your arms over your chest. “It was probably you who lost, anyway.” 
“It was you, actually.” Taehyung’s quick to bite back. “I have better tolerance and therefore better memory of last night; I remember you starting things, Y/N.” 
“We can’t be sure of that,” you retort. “We were both wasted and clearly very horny, you just don’t want to admit that you lost.” 
Taehyung crudely laughs. “Win or lose, drunk sex means a draw, end of discussion.” Your husband finalizes. “Even though it was technically you, I’m being nice and letting us end off on a draw; cherish my kindness, sweetie.” 
Indignation immediately floods your system, puffing your cheeks at him. “Shut up, you didn’t win for shit, your tolerance isn’t even that much better than mine.” 
“Yes it is.” 
“No it isn’t.” 
“Yes it is.” 
“No it isn’t.” 
“Yes it is!” 
“No it isn’t!” 
You and Taehyung immaturely fight again, stuck in a constant back and forth of who gave into who first. 
“Actually, it started at the dinner table when you couldn’t even keep your hands off me, you were clearly trying to make me horny!” You screech.
“Actually, it started when you purposefully wore that skirt and those thigh-highs, it wouldn’t be the first time you weaponized your outfits to make me horny!” He retaliates.
Hollering at each other for another five obnoxious minutes, you grow fed up. 
“Ugh! You’re an insufferable sore loser, you can never stand letting me be right with your damn ego!” You irritatedly shout.
“My ego? You never stand for an option where you’re wrong, you’re worse!” He loudly counters.
“Goddamnit, you’re so stubborn!” 
“You’re more stubborn!” 
“Fuck you, Taehyung. You know what? Let’s just never have sex again, yeah?” You condescendingly finalize. 
“Okay, fine, no sex.” Taehyung nonchalantly shrugs. “Suffer without it, you horny brat.” 
Your jaw drops at his audacity, eyes burning with anger. “Fine!” 
“Fine!” Taehyung yells after you, his eyes similarly simmering with frustration. 
“Fine, no sex!” 
“No sex!” He repeats. 
“No sex, ever again, never ever!” You bark.
You stare at him, and he stares at you. Your blood boils with anger underneath your skin, but your cunt vibrates, grinding your teeth to manage the feeling. Taehyung remains unbothered with his folded arms and reprimanding eyes, but his constant swallowing gives him away. 
Nobody says a word, nobody moves a muscle, and yet the tension enlivens whatever frustration is simmering, the energy absolutely palpable. 
Holding your gaze, Taehyung grinds his teeth, biceps tensing underneath his dress shirt as he seriously contemplates something. He lets out a long, deep sigh afterwards, shaking his head. “Godamnit, so what if I lose…” 
Suddenly, Taehyung kicks out his chair, abandoning his desk to walk over to you. He grabs your face faster than the speed of light, and crashes his lips against yours. 
You’re winded, eyes wide with shock at the sheer force of his kiss, but the carnality excites you, wantonly swinging your arms around his neck. His eager  hands glide down your body, feeling all of you in your thin babydoll before clasping the back of your thighs, encouraging you to jump. 
You instantly moan into his mouth when you hop into his arms, having missed the taste of him. He’d just had something sweet; the hint of vanilla cream and strawberries explodes over your taste buds, slithering your tongue further into his mouth.
Taehyung shudders out a deep groan, swirling his tongue around yours when greedy lust overwhelms him. He becomes impatient, effortlessly carrying you towards his long corduroy couch. Taehyung quickly seats himself as he positions you over his lap, his hands greedily wrapping around, hungirly embracing you.
He presses your body into his, encouraging you to grind your hips over him. He pries away for air, breathily speaking against your lips. “Not wearing anything underneath, huh?” 
You lightly chuckle, swiping your tongue over his pillowy lips. “Nothing at all.” 
With mischief gleaming in his eyes, Taehyung attacks your lips, making out with you shamelessly as his hands travel downwards, suddenly cupping your bare ass. He squeezes you, even teases your damp core in a way that makes you jump in his arms, squeaking. 
He heartily laughs before snatching the ends of your babydoll, his timbre husky when he speaks. “I really love this on you; a babydoll for my babydoll,” he pecks you, “but I’m tearing it off.” 
Simultaneously, Taehyung strips off your nightwear in one swift motion, leaving you bare over his clothed figure. Your fingers grapple onto his hair as your pussy earns god-like friction over his dress pants, whimpering like a needy slut. 
The feeling ignites an insatiable hunger inside you, biting down on Taehyung’s bottom lip. You tug on it, watching it bounce back to its place with dilated, ravenous eyes. His look of sheer bliss leaves you craving him like a drug, done with denying yourself your gorgeous husband. 
Grabbing his shirt, you pin Taehyung down on his couch, his eyes excitedly shimmering when his back crashes into the cushions. “Fuck, baby…” 
“I’ll go insane without you.” You unevenly breathe, fingers making quick work of his buttons. “Take this off, now.” 
Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, ripping open his shirt as your hands visit his pesky belt, nearly ripping it off him. Your husband eagerly watches as you shove down his pants, smirking as he tucks a casual hand underneath his head. “Seems like someone couldn’t go any longer.” 
Playfully narrowing your eyes at him, you suppress a laugh. “Says you of all people.” 
For your revenge, you clasp Taehyung’s unoccupied hand and tuck it against your soaked, dripping pussy folds. You let out a broken shudder, bracing your hands against his strong, expansive chest. Taehyung curses underneath his breath, fascinated by your wetness. 
“Shit, baby, you’re fucking soaked.” He coos. “Is this for me? Do I make my baby this wet?” 
You obediently nod, lightly grinding your hips into his hand, adoring the way his gigantic palm easily envelopes your cunt. You bite your lip to suppress raunchy moans, Taehyung’s caramel-smooth voice gracing your ears. “Do this over my cock, baby. Put me inside, yeah?” 
You mewl hearing his words, wrapping your palm around his erect member. You free him from the confines of his boxers, gushing brand new arousal when you feel how deliciously hard he is. His thick veins, his impressive girth, the delicious heft of him. Stroking his pulsing shaft, Taehyung melts underneath you; clearly you’re not the only one who’s been dying for sex. 
“Seems like someone couldn’t go any longer.” You mock him. 
“Fuck off.” 
“Fuck me, Taehyung.” 
He lightly laughs at your wittiness, and without further ado, you elevate your hips, aligning him with your entrance before piercing yourself on his dick. 
You gasp when he enters you, surprised by how large Taehyung feels. He’s always been big, but something about your recent promise of abstinence made Taehyung feel foreignly large, falling forward upon his body. 
It’s imperative you stop, digging your nails into his chest when the ache harms you. “Fuck…” 
Taehyung worriedly grips you. “What’s wrong, Princess?” 
“You’re big… you’re so big, Taehyung.”You struggle to speak, breathing through the intrusion of his flesh.
“Shit, I feel too big after a while, don’t I?” He curses, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, soothing you. “Take what you can, Princess, only what you can.” 
His gentle voice nearly waters your eyes, feeling your love for him meld with your incredible horniness. Your walls soak him in thereafter, as though Taehyung were returning home. The pain simmers long enough that pleasure explodes inside you, walls adjusting to his size. They pulse erratically, but adore the familiar insertion, welcoming him with open arms. 
Once you’re entirely speared over Taehyung’s cock, animalistic grunts leave you both. Your body feels as though it’s on white hot fire, and Taehyung’s stomach contracts attempting to hold back his load, hungry eyes beaming up at you from below. 
“Y/N, I swear to God…” He breathes, barely able to speak, throwing his head back to regain himself. “If you ride me right now, I’ll fill you with an entire fucking soccer team.” 
Ligtly chuckling, you elevate your hips, slowly drawing him out of your sex just to slowly sink back over him. You both shudder with pleasure at the electrifying sensation, hormones raging, bodies eager for each other. 
Taehyung’s tight groans drive your tenacity, slowly sliding his cock in and out of you until you become addicted to him, addicted to the feeling of him constantly entering and leaving you, filling the very end of you. His dick is akin to ecstasy, riding him as though nothing else could satiate you’re intense hunger.
You reach your hands back to clasp onto his thighs, letting your body bounce over his cock without shame. The drag of his flesh inside you feels earth-shattering, losing your mind to the explosive friction, the slippery, sloppy sliding. 
Taehyung becomes obsessed with the erotic scene before him, greedy hands worshipping your jostling body, his tender words praising you for the goddess you are. 
“Holy fuck, Y/N.” He groans with blown out eyes, gripping your maneuvering hips. “This so fucking hot, you literally drive me insane.” 
Eating up his words, you are gyrating your hips, serving your clit the attention it deserves. This time you lean forward, fingers digging into Taehyung’s taut stomach as you relish in his perfectly shaped member, feeling his thick veins and throbbing meat serve you heaven on a silver platter. 
Taehyung’s hand snakes up your body, lightly clasping around your neck. He listens to your moans heighten in pitch as he carefully grips your throat, watching your hips roll over his spasming meat. 
“My fucking god,” he swallows, timbre deep and husky—needy. “You’re the most gorgeous woman on Earth.” 
Simultaneously, Taehyung slips his fingers into your adjacent mouth, prompting you to swirl your tongue around his digits. Your moans become muffled as a result, eyes falling to your crazed husband beneath you. He eats up your fucked out expression, tears brimming your eyes as your orgasm deliciously simmers inside you, burning brightly between your thighs. 
You suck his fingers, riding him like a Harley, so close to losing yourself in the throes of your pleasure, it’s hard to maintain your equilibrium. Your head is spinning, your body is aching, blood is rushing so rapidly inside you you can’t even manage to keep up—you’re only able to register your cunt smothering Taehyung’s cock as though it were fostering a symbiotic relationship. 
Light-headedness plagues you before Taehyung suddenly rises from his laid position, drawing his fingers out of your mouth. He cautiously cradles your weak body against his front, protectively enveloping you in his warmth. 
“Stay with me, baby.” Taehyung purrs, softly throbbing inside your sex. “I know it’s good, but don’t let it all rush to your head; you’ll have a sub drop, babygirl.” His loving voice resurfaces you, feeling him guide your chin downwards to find his eyes. “Stay awake for me—I need more of you.” 
He casts some strands from your face as you deliriously nod, mimicking his calmer breaths. Once your breathing is more leveled, Taehyung’s gigantic hands weave around your ass. He grips you hard as he taked the wheel, controlling the tides of your sex, languidly, sensually fucking up into you. 
You whimper, sighing as Taehyung masterfully maneuvers your hips downwards as he thrusts up, burrowing a home inside you. He continuously sheaths himself inside your velvety walls as you gasp against his mouth, suppressing your moans. 
“Why are you being quiet, Princess?” He lightly reprimands, pecking your lips. 
“Mrs. Choi… and Seo,” you moan, hiding your flushed face in his neck. “They’ll hear us.” 
“Let them,” he growls in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Let them hear it; let them hear how good I fuck you.” 
Tired of holding yourself back, you relax every limb in your body, letting yourself openly react to your husband’s godly love-making. Your breasts jostle as you bounce up and down his cock, skin slapping against skin, addicted to the heat of his body. 
“God, how was I ever gonna survive without this, huh?” Taehyung groans, holding your body hostage as he jackhammers into you. “You and your perfect pussy? My pretty girl?” 
You gasp for dear life when Taehyung pierces himself so deep inside you, you nearly scream. “Fuck-!” Your body’s vibrating, ecstasy coursing through your veins as you lose all sense of sanity, hands clutching his sturdy shoulder for dear life. “Taehyung, let me reverse cowgirl you, turn me around.” You breathily request. 
Taehyung lets out a proud huff as he maneuvers you over him, positioning your back to face his front. You sigh out pronographically as he guides your hips over his cock this way. The leverage you gain is powerful, your palms grappling his knees to develop a crazy, pornographic pace over his dick. 
You indulge in the angle change, freely bouncing as you please. His flesh constantly scrapes your frontal walls, losing your mind. Taehyung lets out a string of breathy curses, fucking you from underneath in accordance with you. You reach back for support, your husband instantly intertwining your fingers as you incline forward, and he reclines back, both of you fucking each other like horny bunnies. 
Your salacious noises are endless, no doubt echoing throughout the house and reaching the working housekeepers in your home, but neither of you care when the sex was so god-tier, your orgasms feel as though they’ll be cosmic.
“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, baby, slow down.” Taehyung warns you, hissing with pleasure. “I’m literally gonna cum, holy shit I can’t hold back.” 
“Then don’t,” you coo, swiveling your hips over his perfect cock, toes curling with undeniable pleasure. “Fill me up, Taehyung. I meant what I said last night, I want your babies.” 
“I meant what I said, too.” He suddenly tugs your back flush agains his front, embracing you from behind. He morphs his fast and hard thrusts into slow, deep strokes, moaning into your ear. “I’ll give you all the babies you want.” 
You bite your lip as you whimper, hugging his hands around your stomach as he intimately fucks you, laying affectionate kisses across your naked shoulder. Your hand snakes into his hair behind you, sighing pleasurably as he kisses your pulse point, languidly making love to you. 
“Tae… don’t drag this out.” You beg, gripping his locks. “I need to cum, it’s been too fucking long.” 
“Yeah? Want me to make cum?” He huskily whispers, hands closing around your breasts to fondle them, seductively caressing your nipples. You jolt with white hot electricity, whimpering over him with a nod. 
He suddenly lays a hand on your tit, lightly slapping it. “How many times do I have to tell you about words, Y/N?” 
You shudder as essence oozes out of you, coating his throbbing dick. “Yes, Taehyung, please.” 
You feel him smirk against your skin, suddenly gripping you. “Then you better hold on tight, babe.” 
Swiftly, Taehyung lifts you up from the couch and shoves you against the coffee table in front of you, pinning your front to the frigid, cherry wood surface. It takes you some seconds to realize you’re bent over, ass out for him before he plunges back inside your pulsing pussy, grappling onto your hips. 
Your fingers scratch the table as Taehyung delivers hard, rough thrusts from behind, fucking you with delicious ferality. He pleasures himself to the nines, grunting animalistically as he gives it to you. “God, your ass, Princess, I’m in love.” 
You moan loudly, shoving your face into the table. “Fuck, Taehyung, my clit, please fucking touch my clit.” 
Taehyugn doesn’t need repetition, slithering his hand towards your throbbing pearl and fondling it with tight circles, drawing tantalizing patterns. You practically screech, shivering with pleasure as he fucks you senseless, does you right in every possible way. 
Your husband’s hips slam against yours with each thrust, each precise stroke coiling that wire inside you so, so tight, you’re crying out with unprecedented pleasure. 
“Fuck, I need to see your face,” Taehyung breathes, releasing a throaty groan. “Let me see your pretty face when you moan like that, baby.” 
Taehyung grabs where he must to turn you on your back, effortlessly man-handling you. He hands slam either side of you, now entangled in an incredibly intimate missionary position. Your legs automatically lock around Taehyung's waist, and his hands cradle the back of your thighs, spreading you wider. 
He brokenly groans when he shoves himself deeper inside you, his face mere inches from yours. “Holy fucking shit, fuck…” 
“Such a foul mouth, Mr. Kim.” You tease, voice lilting with a moan when he thrusts into you. 
“Sex this nasty with a gorgeous wife like you can do that to a man.” He snarks, burrowing deeper to reach the end of you. Your eyes physically glimmer with wanton need as he strokes your fluttering sex, feeling your heart glow brighter which each delicious fuck. Taehyung hoists one of your legs up on his shoulder, cradling it to him as he becomes impossibly close, smothering your smaller body underneath. He cleverly rolls his hips, serving both himself and your throbbing clit. 
You moan against his mouth, Taheyung relishing in your breathy little reactions. His other hand slips underneath your head to cushion you, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His beautiful coffee irises pierce yours, ensnaring your heart.
“Princess…” he breathes, grunting as he rocks his hips. “I love you; I love making love to you.” 
Your chest explodes with colours, eyes revealing your emotion as you keep his gaze. 
“That’s why… I like having sex. It’s not about getting my dick wet… or blowing my load in you…” he shudders out a painful moan as he slows down his thrusts, no doubt pulsing with his release. “I love feeling your skin on mine, being intimate with you, feeling our bodies move like they belong together.” 
You swallow back tears; something about the sincerity in his voice softens you, puddy in his hands. 
“I love making you feel good, I love seeing the pleasure in your eyes, the way your body craves me. I love it all, baby, I love you.” He affectionately coos, passionately shoving himself inside you. “And I want us… to have a baby. I want a little me and you running around, I want to have a family with you, to share my life with you.” 
It’s no surprise moisture floods your vision, sniffling it away. “Taehyung…” 
“So please, never think I’m only here for the sex. I’m here for you, I’m in this because I love you, Y/N.” His tone seeps with saccharine sweet truth, watching his coffee orbs softly swirl. “And I wanna show it to you like this, by making love to you—making love for hours and hours until you finally grasp how I feel about you.” 
Emotions clogs your chest with undeniable tears, narrowly able to manage them before a sudden long, deep stroke of his ultimately unravels you—both physically and emotionally. Your hands clutch his bread-like cheeks, eyes glistening with genuity. “I love you more, Tae.” You coo. “I love making love with you, I want to share a family with you, too.” You speak from the heart, feeling every cell in your body vibrate with such intense arousal, you suddenly erupt with an earth-shattering orgasm, nearly blacking out. 
This feels far too powerful compared to a regular orgasm, though, left completely winded, body jelly-like. It’s only when you feel something incredibly wet dribbling down your thighs do you sense what’s really happening. 
“Fuck, oh fucking hell… baby, you just squirted.” You hear your husband enthusiastically voice. “Oh that’s sexy, that’s so fucking sexy.” Taehyung’s voice is rich with fascination, his cock picking up the pace inside you. “Oh shit, I’m coming, I can’t hold it back—” 
“Come, Taehyung, come inside me.” You sweeten your tone, sloppily kissing him. “Come inside my tight pussy, baby.”
And Taehyung paints your walls entirely white with his hot, abundant cum, letting out a feral grunt that indicates the sheer size of his load. He hisses as he slowly fucks you, watching your fluids mix together between your bodies. 
“Shit…” he lightly curses, viewing your chest constantly rise and fall, your legs terribly trembling. He gains enough viable strength to draw out of you, your cunt immediately leaking out his seed, but Taehyung’s quick to swipe it back inside you, tucking his palm against your battered hole. 
“Soak my cum back in, baby.” Taehyung softly requests. “Let me feel you do it.” 
Following alon , you squeeze your walls as firmly as possible, letting him feel your fluttering pussy. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, fascinated as he watches. You’re barely conscious, only able to register his words and movements, but your surroundings are fading, limbs utterly spent. 
You nearly fall over when you attempt to rise, Taehyung catching you in his arms with panic. “Woah, woah, are you okay, Princess?” 
Taehyung seats himself back on his couch, cradling you in his sheltering arms over his lap. He curls your hair behind your ear, analyzing your sleepy, exhausted features. “Was it too much, baby?” 
You can’t even speak, simply shaking your head—only one thing remains fresh on your mind. “Let’s… never… do that again.” 
Fondly chuckling at your weary state, Taehyung presses his lips to your temple, affectionately kissing you. “Never again, babe.” 
Smiling at that, you cozy into his chest, letting sleep drift you away from the real world. You’re almost a happy goner when you hear your husband’s rich, caramel voice, his palm rubbing your back.
“So… wanna go for round two?” 
You pry an eye open, shooting him a puzzled look. “Wh-what? 
Taehyung snorts. “Round two, babe, in our sex dungeon. Did you really think you could make me go sexless for a week and I wouldn’t want to fuck you for hours?” 
Swallowing, your eyes soften with pleading. “Taehyung, you’re insane!” 
“What’s insane is that I didn’t get to make love to you for 6 days,” he counters, grabbing your chin to lift it, his amused eyes meeting yours. “Now I’m going to make up for each day I didn’t get to, starting with a little surprise.” He suddenly leans down towards your ear, letting his lips ever-so-faintly brush you. 
“I’m edging you with the very same vibrator you dared touch yourself with.” He grits, fierce eyes piercing your very soul. “And we’re gonna do it for each and every time you disobeyed me.” 
Choking on air, your eyes widen, begging for Taehyung to grant you mercy, but he only shoots back an evil, devilish grin, spelling your inevitable doom—you’re not surviving this at all.
Your erotic, needy moans resound around your home later that day as Taehyung deliciously punishes you, bouncing off the walls to even reach your silent listeners downstairs.
Mrs. Choi and Seo can’t help but giggle together as they vacuum the first level, their cheeks coloured a bright red. 
“My my, what young love they have.” Mrs. Choi light-heartedly jokes. 
Mrs. Seo snickers in response, knowingly smiling. “I have a feeling they’ll stay young for a long, long time.”
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starcatching · 1 month
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221031 GQ: 10 Things Jin of BTS Can't Live Without
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