Holy Moly Make Sure You Have Tissues Nearby For This One (ok Yes For That Reason Too But GET YO MIND

holy moly make sure you have tissues nearby for this one (ok yes for that reason too but GET YO MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER)

(also massive spoilers read the fic first you monster)

this is a work of art: i am lying on the floor absolutely wrecked in pieces for so many reasons let’s start with

1) “ITS GOING TO BE OKAY” which we’ve already covered in the comments i had to STOP reading the fic to say isahwijsjwkkama

2) i just can’t get over the good relationship she has with her mother (couldn’t be me um can anyone say mommy issues oops) and the supportive and comforting conversations they had during this chapter 😭

2b) HER MOM SAYING YOU GO GIRL AHHHHH i want them to end up together and literally this was the last barricade PLEASE IM BEGGING

3) also the smut in this chapter was top TIER holy shit um remember to breathe folks

4) i may have sobbed when she realized he wasn’t there. um. i’m actually having emotions about him leaving without saying goodbye i know it was going to be hard but 😩

5) anyway um this was a first for me so i really appreciate this fic dragging me out of the comments section and making a real post because @yoongiofmine deserves so much love 🫶💜

Internal Conflicts | KSJ | Day Three

Pair: Kim Seokjin x f!reader 

Summary: Kim Seokjin was everything any girl could want in school . Handsome, kind, popular. Many girls in your class had a crush on the man; including you. Being a few years older than you meant that after he graduated, you didn’t think you would ever see him again. Fast forward to seven years later, the oldest clichê in the book: Your mother marries a man, the man has a son. That son was Kim Seokjin. And now, you’re coming home for a family trip to a cabin in the woods, with a very much awakening crush on the man that is now one hundred percent off limits. A shared bathroom, a snow storm, a small town. What could go wrong?

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, step brother (not related, not raised together, not weird)

Chapter Warnings: Smut, tears, angst, goodbyes. Our story is almost over! :(

WC: 13k

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[07:18]

Being woken up by a very annoyed Min Yoongi shaking you after snuggling up into Seokjin all night was not the best way to start your Sunday. You groaned and grumbled and tried to go back to sleep, but his rushed words made not only you, but the man next to you, jolt awake. 

“Jesus fuck, you want to het caught?!” he whisper-shouted. “Your parents just got here!” 

“Oh, shit–” you were throwing the covers off of you in a second, getting up so fast that the whole world started spinning and if it wasn’t for Yoongi holding you, you would have fallen on your face. “What– where–” 

“I think your mother was coming up the stairs.” Yoongi was already pushing you into the bathroom you shared with Seokjin, so you could cross it and get out through the other door. 

Keep reading

oooooh that’s a fun reveal!!!!!! hahah i’m so glad tae said let’s not drag this out 😂 i’m actually really excited for them to chat- i feel like she’s ready?? also SO GLAD that she is leaning on her support system 🥰 that conversation with joon was everything!! i’m constantly amazed by how much complexity this story has it’s absolutely incredible :)))

Little do You Know | OT7 | Eighty Six

Pair: Bangtan (ot7) x f!reader 

Summary: In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose. 

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, playmate au, idol au. 

Chapter warnings: Back to our normal programming!! Is that angst I see coming? 

WC: 2.6k.

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“So what are the rules on the set?” you asked nervously as you tried to stop fidgeting. 

“I thought this wasn’t your first music video.” Tae chuckled, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. 

“It’s not, but it’s the first time I’m actually dating the artist." 

It was early afternoon when Taehyung showed up at your apartment to pick you up in one of HYBE’s many cars and drivers. You were on your way to the filming location Hoseok was shooting his newest music video for More; which would mark his debut as a solo artist. 

"Companies had different rules when I was a playmate.” you explained your nervousness. “JYP didn’t like it when we took pictures of the set. And P NATION was very particular about their space.”

Keep reading

---

ok but seeing this made me tear up i’m so proud of him and excited for him 🫶

to be chosen for your authenticity?? your creativity?? your empathy??? in today’s world?? 😭😭

---

help my heart is BURSTING ohhhhh

i thought i could handle those two prompts together and oh BOY was i wrong 🥹😭😂 (in the absolute best way i love this so much) this is oh so sweet and soft and lovely and !!!!!

the silence after HAD ME BY THE THROAT THOUGH i’ll tell you oh i was like oh no oh no oh no oh no it’s out there and what if he just smooshes her heart into the floor what will we all do then i simply don’t know

but then he didn’t and iiiiiiiiiiii 😭

this was so excellent my heart is so full 🥰🥰

i am also in love with my best friend and will also never tell them BUT i will live vicariously through this reader because wow 💖✨🥰

hello hello!!!!! ooooh for the 1k drabble requests: would love to see our lovely jimin, #12 and #70, and fluff, smut, or whatever you’re feeling!!!

i may or may not (absolutely did) have based this off real life experience. except instead of a sad and miserable ending, i made it happy. thank you for requesting this! I hope you enjoy. 💜 again, unedited

Masterlist | AskBox | Coffee? | Patreon

pjm x reader | just some cute fluff and a dash of angst | 1,003 words | pg15 | Honey blonde Jimin, some kissy kissy, I lived out the first half of this.

You shouldn’t be here. You should have gotten a rideshare home or taken the bus. You should not have gotten in Jimin’s car. You should not have let him drive you home where you both are now sitting in his car in front of. 

And you should not be even considering saying what you want to say, what you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.

You’ve had a crush on your best friend since high school. But of course, you never said anything. You’d rather live in a world where the fear of rejection is greater than the fear of watching him be with someone else. 

And boy, did you. You watched him fall in love many times, and watched the heartbreak that resulted after as well. He rushed to you after every single one, though. And that alone was enough to get you by. 

But you went out with a group of friends tonight. Where he was constantly next to you, touching you, smiling at you with that beautiful smile that makes his eyes essentially disappear. And you had too much to drink. So you ended up in the bathroom with your friend, resting your head on her shoulder while crying about how much it hurts that you can’t tell him about your feelings. 

The problem is, however, your friend is an enabler. And drunkenly advised you to just tell him. 

The worst he can say is no. 

She repeated that godforsaken phrase many times until you finally decided you’d do it…another day. 

But he noticed how drunk you were and insisted on giving you a ride home. And you idiotically agreed, thinking this was a great opportunity. Maybe he’ll return your feelings and kiss you and you’ll live happily ever after. 

The drive home was quiet. You let the window down to allow the cool wind to help you sober up just enough to realize how stupid this plan was as he parked in front of your apartment. 

“Need help getting to your apartment?” His voice was sweet, genuinely concerned about your safety. 

You love him. 

Again, you stupidly agree to the help, wanting just a bit more time with him. He jumps out of the car, running around to your side to open the door and help you out. You’re sober enough to walk on your own, but he still holds onto you, his hand safely on your waist, the other holding your purse and heels. 

When you finally approach your door, he lets you dig in your purse for your keys, sticking them in but leaving them hanging as you replay your friend’s stupid advice. 

The worst he can say is no.

“Hey, Jimin?” You question, looking down at his feet. 

“Hmm?” 

“I… I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified…? Is…is that okay?” 

Nothing. 

Silence. 

Never ending silence. 

Turns out there is something worse than him saying no. That would be literally not speaking. 

After what feels like eons of silence, you can feel the tears building behind your eyes. So you take the key out of the lock, open your door, and grab the purse and heels out of his hand. 

“Okay. Message received. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Pretend this never happened. Thanks for the ride home, I can cover the gas if needed. Goodnight.” You rush through your words, not allowing yourself to look up at the man who just fully rejected you without saying a word. You rush into your apartment, slamming the door closed and locking it, resting your forehead against the door and sighing. 

You hear his feet walk away from your door and sink down against the wall trying not to scream as the tears finally fall. You stay there, curled up on the floor, regretting every decision you’ve ever made for about fifteen minutes when there’s three hard knocks on your door. 

“Y/n, open the door, please.” Jimin’s voice strains as he knocks again. You slowly get up, wipe the tears off your face with the sleeve of your jacket, and open the door. 

“Please, don’t come back to make fun of me. I regret saying anything at all earlier and I jus—” 

“Can I kiss you?” The words quickly stumble out of his mouth, his eyes wide. 

“Can you…what?” 

“Kiss you. Can I kiss you?” He steps closer, hands cradling your face, “please?”

You’re in too much a state of shock, so you slightly nod, and suddenly his lips are on yours. One hand leaves your face to hold your waist and the other slides to the back of your neck, keeping you close. 

It’s fucking magic kissing him. His full lips on yours, moving perfectly in sync with you as his tongue teases the seam of your lips, begging for entry. And just who are you to deny that? 

His tongue slides past your lips and you feel weak, your fingers tangling in his beautiful honey blonde hair. You tug his hair a little harder than intended, resulting in him groaning as he pulls away, resting his head on your shoulder. 

It’s silent again, except for you both panting, until he finally speaks again. 

“I have been wanting to do that for years.” He finally says with a faint chuckle.

What?

“Oh?” Is the only response you can come up with, hands sliding down to his forearms. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you with a smile. 

“Y/n, I know I’m in love with you and I’ve only been terrified of you rejecting me.” He places a soft kiss on your nose, grinning at your smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. It was just sudden and a shock and I didn’t know if you were still drunk and I jus—”

“Do you wanna come inside and kiss me again?” You say, a little louder than intended, but with no shame. 

“Very much so, please.” He grabs your face again, guiding you back into your apartment. 

---

oh my LORDY I AM STILL PROCESSING

wow this read like an entire series i am constantly impressed by the writing genius that is m 😫

1. “sinning through the act of worship.”

*cough cough* WHAT

2. “You bloom for him, pretty and pliant”

BESTIE i am on the FLOOR with this imagery every single word is perfection

3. “he can’t stop thinking that your body is art, a relief sculpture of curves against soft white bedding, a carved out and fucked out beauty.”

see above bc holy moly i am breathless!!!! the descriptive imagery has me by the throat i simply adore how much attention is given to the atmosphere and moments like this

4. “He’s all determination when he wants to be, synapses hard as steel, can shove down desire and self-hatred and something too desperate to quite be love until it goes still again and he can put the smile back on.”

😩😩😩 HOBIIIIII

i simply can’t get over this fic it’s elegant and an incredible mix of angst and beauty. i feel like he’s walking through a museum and can’t touch the art that is the reader (absolutely gut wrenching)

5. “to muffle the animal sound of shame and need, a force of habit”

ajkxsbjiwksn 😫 he deserves the world

6. “Guilt is a bitter chaser to pleasure”

THIS LINE FUCKS SO HARD oh my GOSH i feel like someone reached into my soul and ripped something out thank YOU VERY MUCH

7. “His chest constricts in the way that’s become so familiar it’s almost soothing”

this line reminds me so much of the vine imagery in nabiolive’s (excellent) dollhouse series and lemme just say

FUCK

(that is all.)

haha i kid i kid but truly the idea of finding comfort in chronic pain is a heavy one. i hope that he gets to breathe deeply in the future (mayyyybe with the reader’s help 👀)

last thoughts: i cannot believe this is only 1k. i was absolutely hooked from the first line through to the end— this fic is incredible.

self control (explicit)

genre: my first foray into angst !!!! with a side of smut~

pairing: hoseok x reader (imagined)

summary: you'll never know the way hoseok really feels about you.

word count: 1k

contains: explicit sexual content ~ member POV, unrequited love, masturbation, imagined: [infidelity, cunnilingus, sex, choking, & dumbification if you squint], hobi is rly hard on himself :'( also a small allusion at the end to rituals around cleanliness or obsessive-compulsive tendencies

A/N: please don't ask me what inspired this because i haven't a clue my friends 💀 just deep in my cancer season/yearning feels over here I GUESS. but i let myself write a little differently to fit The Vibe and i think i like how it turned out~

i like don't even want to post this considering i just dropped so much on you (and i said i was on a break but shhhh the muse came for me), buuuuuut doing it anyway ack!!! ENJOY!!

this is also on AO3!

~*~

Hoseok makes himself sick when he’s like this.

His hyungs warned him that this would hurt. He didn’t realize they’d meant it so literally. It physically hurts, a thumbprint-shaped bruise blossoming inside his chest, molded that way because he keeps fucking pressing on it, putting an ache in himself for no good reason, thinking of you, like this, like now.

He sees himself down on his knees in front of you, where he belongs, sinning through the act of worship. Begging some god he doesn’t believe in to forgive him, because he sure as hell isn’t forgiving himself, not when he isn’t even sorry.

So fucking insane, to be on the verge of tears and somehow stupidly horny at the same time. Make that make sense.

A hotel room on a high floor, a king-sized bed, egyptian cotton. Only the best for you, fuck a pricetag. The irony of infidelity framed in double-pane windows, city lights blinking impartially as he unzips your dress, says a prayer into your mouth, don’t have to tell anybody, just us, just tonight.

The way you want it, too. You bloom for him, pretty and pliant. At least that’s his hope.

He turns listlessly, his bed– his real bed in his new, too-big house, where every room throws an echo because he doesn’t have enough furniture to fucking fill it– suddenly hot, legs a frustrated tangle in the blankets, dick stirring to attention between them. He doesn’t want to be here (he doesn’t want to be anywhere, really, blipping out of existence for the night would be ideal), so he closes his eyes, lets himself sink back into it.

Just a little longer, then he’ll be good.

Your hair fans out on the pillow beneath you, makeup a mess but you’re smiling anyway, breathless and raw and so real inside this fantasy. Reaching for him, fuck-me eyes, come on, insatiable, give it to me, need you nownownow.

He fucks you down into the plush hotel mattress, and he can’t stop thinking that your body is art, a relief sculpture of curves against soft white bedding, a carved out and fucked out beauty. His, tonight. It’s enough. More than.

The sheets are damp at the place where your bodies meet, arousal and sweat and saliva from nearly an hour spent between your legs (he loves the way they shake when you’re close) because he’s learned that once he gets you started, you don’t stop coming.

He strokes deep because he loves the way you whimper with each pass, the way you squeeze tight enough to tear a growl from the back of his throat, he’s fucking feral with it now. Braces himself on one hand while the other holds your throat but applies no pressure; he knows better than that, can’t have you going home marked up.

Hoseok is good for you, leaves no trace behind that won’t wash off in the shower. He has excellent self control.

Excellent enough that he should’ve ripped himself out of this dream already. He’s never let things go this far before, in his mind. He’s all determination when he wants to be, synapses hard as steel, can shove down desire and self-hatred and something too desperate to quite be love until it goes still again and he can put the smile back on.

But tonight feels different. It’s like he wants the pain, would elect to be gutted and splayed down the middle if only for proof that his heart remains there in his chest, beating quiet consistency.

Yes, like before, even now.

Just the same, even now.

Always, probably.

He’s hard, has been hard. Sticky sweet kisses of precum press over the inside of his briefs, then into the hollow of his stomach when he flips his length up, as if that might help.

He doesn’t want to touch himself. It’s another line he’s yet to cross, the last thing he has to cling to when he needs to believe that he isn’t depraved, disgusting, for harboring all of this inside himself, carrying this pathetic torch for far too long.

But the thought of rutting into you, the little gasps you make, eyelashes fluttering and pussy quivering as he works yet another one out of you… Shit. It’s too much. When you tip up to find his lips with yours, whining nonsensically into his mouth– fucked too dumb to make any sense, he thinks he might not ever let you leave this room.

And that snaps his last thread of restraint.

Hoseok only needs to thrust up into his fist three times before his climax hits, painting over his stomach, chest, hand, sheets, fuck. He bites down so hard on his other palm that he threatens to break skin, all to muffle the animal sound of shame and need, a force of habit– he lives alone now, the walls of his empty house don’t give a fuck.

He comes like a virgin, he thinks to himself, critiquing a performance the second he steps off the stage as is his way. The thought that finally sent him over the edge was PG-13 at best: his tongue in the heat of your mouth.

He really does think he could get over all this if you kissed him, just once.

Embarrassing.

Guilt is a bitter chaser to pleasure, downed before bliss even shows up, if there was any. He’s a mess: emotionally, literally– cum all over himself, the bedsheets too. Creepy, dirty, wrong.

His chest constricts in the way that’s become so familiar it’s almost soothing, makes no fucking sense yet somehow it does. A self-invented problem he knows how to solve, a specific set of steps begging completion in perfect order.

Scalding-hot shower. Exfoliate. Lotion. Cleanser, toner, serum; wait for it to sink in. Sheets in the wash. Detergent, fabric softener. Vacuums the floor while he’s at it. New sheets on the bed, hospital corners tucked sharp, pillows fluffed, immaculate. Back to the bathroom, moisturizer that he adds two drops of rose-hip oil to and mixes against the back of his hand, sleeping pack to lock it in.

He swears he’s got new lines along the corners of his mouth, feels stupid that he’s ruining his skin with smiles that aren’t even real.

He can exhale, then, still with a tight grip on the edge of the sink. Once it’s all done, every trace of indiscretion cleaned up and put away, and he’s good again. At least until the next time his self control slips.

---

AHHHH THIS WAS SO GOOD i absolutely adore the namjoon/yoongi/reader relationship they are so FUNNY and quippy and comfortable with each other it’s EXCELLENT. I read this after politico and i! can't! get! enough! I never knew I needed them in a political satire setting but oh BOY is it doing something to me (in the iconic words of swing!namjoon, "I didn't know I had a kink for that")

without further ado my favorite parts:

the namjoon/yoongi baby exchange had me dying with laughter and going awwwww about every other line

Namjoon looks sheepish, Yoongi scowls, and the baby smiles like it’s having a great time sandwiched between the two men. 

hi my name's mg and I do accept that I am jealous of a literal BABY what I would give to be sandwiched between the two of them (the namtitties 😩)

parking him on his hip like he’s a dad of four who mows the lawn on a Sunday and coaches junior baseball. 

dad yoongi has my heart iiiiiiiiii 💖💜✨🥰😍💛

he just snuggles deeper into Yoongi’s side like he’s enjoying it there. 

to whom it may concern i would like to submit my application for yoongi snuggles please and thank you

‘I didn’t know I had a kink for that,’ Namjoon says thoughtfully. 

this had me CACKLING i love him.

but you keep going down, past his flat stomach, the drawstring tie of his shorts, the bulge of his —- ‘Fucking cock,’ hisses Yoongi.

THIS TRANSITION IS ICONIC YES LMFAO I DIED followed immediately by yoongi being protective over the reader 🥹🥹

‘Hobi?’ you wonder out loud.

ME TOO BESTIE ME TOO what happened I wanna knoW

just generally tae is so sweet and gentle in this and really giving politico's jk a run for his money (even though this is a prequel ahah)

He pulls you into his side, close like he held that baby he stole the other day, and like the baby, you can’t help but lean into his warmth. 

absolutely crying why are they so emotionally intelligent (maybe I just need a hug idk)

‘Of course. These hips don’t lie.’ Hoseok sneers, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes as he walks away.

the crack in this fic is STRONG I am obsessed with all of them 😂

‘So,’ you say, brightly. ‘What should we do next?’

BESTIE THAT'S A REALLY GOOD QUESTION 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

I ABSOLUTELY loved this :)))

Swing

You're navigating your way through the political ranks. Your boss, Assistant Secretary of State Kim Namjoon, is sexy and unpredictable, and your colleague Min Yoongi is cynical and hard-nosed. And then there's Taehyung, whom you know you can't trust. You've got no idea how you're going to survive any of this, but you've sure as hell got to try.

A prequel to Politico.

Pairing: Taehyung x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut, weak political satire

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, sneakiness

Min Yoongi swears like his life depends on it, emotion making each word vibrate in the air. 

‘Shitting fuck!’ 

In another life you think he’d be great spitting verses as a rapper. 

He’s got the persona for it, he’s got the steely determination, the don’t give a fuck swagger, the ability to give the impression he’s one screw away from going totally unhinged. 

Today, though, you’re struggling to follow. 

‘What? These optics are great!’ you say, gesturing to your boss, Assistant Secretary of State Kim Namjoon, dimpling prettily as he holds a chubby baby at the meet and greet he’s doing. 

Yoongi doesn’t answer, already lunging forward like he can see the future. 

‘Ah shit,’ you mutter, jumping forward to help. 

You’re too far away, but Yoongi isn’t, one hand already out pressing against the baby’s back as Namjoon stumbles and nearly drops him. 

Namjoon looks sheepish, Yoongi scowls, and the baby smiles like it’s having a great time sandwiched between the two men. 

Impatient, Yoongi hooks an hand under the baby’s armpit and hoists him fully into his arms, parking him on his hip like he’s a dad of four who mows the lawn on a Sunday and coaches junior baseball. 

You wait for the baby to have an adverse reaction to Yoongi’s stern expression and the caffeine emanating from his pores, but to your surprise, he just snuggles deeper into Yoongi’s side like he’s enjoying it there. 

Namjoon and Yoongi keep moving, walking up the line, greeting people, and you wonder how they’re going to return the baby to its rightful owner. 

By the time you catch up, Namjoon and Yoongi have reached the entrance of the community centre. 

‘You need to return this baby,’ you say, waving a hand. 

The baby waves back at you, and you realise he has dimples just like your boss. 

‘Ah shit, Namjoon, is this actually your child?’ 

‘The only paternity test I’ve had done came back negative,’ Namjoon informs you, holding out his arms for the baby. 

Yoongi takes a step back, avoiding Namjoon’s arms. ‘That’s not the way paternity results are reported,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘Besides, that woman was way out of your league.’ 

‘Shit, did you try to entrap someone?’ you ask. 

‘Stop swearing in front of the baby,’ Namjoon complains. 

You hold out your arms, and Yoongi passes you the baby. 

The baby looks at you expectantly. 

‘Oh, are you waiting for me to suck the happiness out of the room? Only your Uncle Yoongi does that,’ you coo. 

‘You look really sexy holding a baby,’ Namjoon says, nodding approvingly. 

Yoongi glances at you. ‘She kind of does,’ he agrees. 

‘Who does this baby belong to?’ you ask, ignoring them. 

‘I didn’t know I had a kink for that,’ Namjoon says thoughtfully. 

‘What? What about that girl you dated in college? The one you kept saying had ‘child bearing’ hips?’ Yoongi scoffs. 

‘Forget it,’ you mutter, hoisting the baby up. ‘Come on, kid, I’ll find your mom.’ 

***

You’re trying not to stare at your boss doing pull-ups, grunting on each upward pull, sweating into his fitted workout gear.

‘Write it down,’ says Yoongi, raising a knowing eyebrow at you.

‘Write what down?’ you inquire, reasonably. ‘He’s just grunting.’

‘Kisung’s angling for a spot on the Angleson inquiry panel,’ Namjoon pants, giving you a sideways look as he lowers himself back on the floor.

Your eyes follow a particularly juicy looking drop of sweat as it rolls down his forehead, slips past the dent of his dimple, trickles down his jaw and down his thick neck, disappearing in between his glorious pecs.

It’s blotted out by his fitted, white, sweat-wicking top, but you keep going down, past his flat stomach, the drawstring tie of his shorts, the bulge of his —-

‘Fucking cock,’ hisses Yoongi.

Your eyes snap up guiltily but neither of them are looking at you.

There’s a waft of clean scent, pleasing and somehow expensive, accompanied by two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

‘Hoseok,’ says Namjoon, pleasantly.

Yoongi snorts with unconcealed contempt.

‘Namjoon. Yoongi,’ says Hoseok. He smiles charmingly at you, and you can’t help but smile back.

He holds out his hand. ‘Jung Hoseok,’ he says.

Yoongi steps in front of you. ‘Don’t touch my minion, Hoseok,’ he snarls.

‘I’m not a —-‘ you start to protest, when Namjoon steps in front of you too.

‘What would you like to tell us about, Hoseok?’ 

Hoseok’s smile never falters. ‘I wanted to give you a heads up,’ he says. ‘Han Kisung’s in a meeting with Lee Min Hyeok right now. Isn’t Min Hyeok leading on your police accountability campaign?’

‘Thank you for the information,’ Namjoon says, evenly. ‘Why would you tell us this?’

‘I’d like to make amends, of course,’ Hoseok says, smoothly. 

The second man, silent thus far, catches your eye when he shifts his weight.

You glance at him and he’s staring back at you, eyes hooded. 

When he sees you’re looking he smirks and slips the tip of his tongue over his lips so deliberately you’d be blushing if you weren’t already dead inside from this job.

He holds out his hand. ‘Kim Taehyung.’

‘Y/N L/N,’ you say.

Predictably, he runs the pad of his thumb over your knuckles as you shake.

Unexpectedly, you find yourself not disgusted.

‘Young love,’ muses Hoseok.

‘Get away from the snake’s minion, Y/N,’ Yoongi snaps.

Hoseok looks hurt, perfect lower lip pushed out in a pout.

Taehyung ignores them both. 

‘I’m going out with a bunch of other interns tonight,’ he says, voice so low it’s almost a purr. ‘We’ll be at that new place in town, near the river. You should come.’

You have no idea how he makes perfectly normal words sound so nasty, but you’re getting more interested in finding out with every passing minute.

He smiles at you, and you blink, blinded by how ethereally beautiful he is. 

You can only stare after him as he and Hoseok leave the gym.

‘Don’t fall for anything that snake or his minion says,’ Yoongi warns, snapping you out of your daze.

‘Of course not,’ you say, quickly. 

You weren’t born yesterday. You know you can’t trust anyone. 

Especially if they’re as beautiful as Kim Taehyung.

***

You’re by the bar, sipping your drink, when there’s a familiar waft of cologne.

You’re about to turn when Kim Taehyung slides in next to you smoothly.

He’s standing much too close, but you like it.

He leans down, his velvety voice as intimate as a caress. 

‘I was hoping you’d come,’ he says.

You smile at him coolly, trying to conceal the fact that you’re melting under his intense gaze, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. 

Fuck. Is it warm in here?

‘I heard the drinks were good here.’ 

‘The food’s good too. Come join us, my friend Arisu has a table.’ 

You wind up sitting next to Taehyung. There are a few faces you recognise, more you don’t. Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance to feel anything but welcome. 

He props an arm on the back of your chair, so close you get wafts of his cologne every time he moves. 

So close you can feel the heat radiating off his bare forearm. 

You remind yourself he’s not to be trusted. 

So then why are you here? Why are you leaning against his arm, finding excuses to turn his way, sipping your wine to fortify you?

The fact is, he’s the best looking man to show an interest in you in a while, and you need a man to lust after who’s not your sexy and intelligent boss Namjoon or your volatile and sharp colleague Yoongi. 

Your skin prickles as Taehyung leans even closer and you feel the warmth of his breath by your ear.

‘Want to get out of here?’ he asks.

‘My apartment’s round the corner,’ you reply. 

‘Perfect,’ Taehyung says, and the approval you hear in his voice makes pleasure pool low down in your belly.

The walk to your apartment is short, full of delicious anticipation.

You find you like the height difference between you, the way his broad shoulders nudge against yours as he places a hand on the small of your back.

You push your front door closed behind you and turn to see he’s shrugging off his coat.

He smiles, offers to help you with yours.

His thumb presses a scorching circle into the back of your neck as he takes your coat off.

When you turn to face him again he’s leaning over you.

You reach out, curl a hand around his neck and kiss him.

He’s soft, lips parting against yours in slow, drugging kisses that make you shiver. 

The warm heat of his mouth makes you press into him more, your hands sliding around his waist to his back. 

His belt buckle presses into the softness of your torso.

Taehyung nudges you flat against the door. One hand curls around the back of your head, the other splays low down on your back, making slow passes over your ass until you whine into his mouth and he cups your ass fully, pulling you into his frame.

He pulls back, eyes hooded, so dark they look almost black.

‘Upstairs?’ you ask. It’s half an invitation, half a plea.

When he speaks, his voice has dropped so low you can barely make out his words.

You grasp his hand and he follows you to your bedroom.

He undresses you like he dressed you himself, fingers nimble over the buttons of your blouse. 

He hums with pleasure as your blouse slides off you, followed by your skirt.

Your skin feels hot as his eyes roam, you’d be self-conscious if he wasn’t getting undressed himself, stepping out of his trousers, letting his belt fall to the carpeted floor with a muffled thud.

He unbuttons his shirt, and then he’s standing before you in just his boxer briefs, all golden skin and a smirk on his face that only turns you on more.

He reaches out, cupping the weight of your breast, tongue flicking out from between his lips as your nipple presses against the thin lacy material of your bra.

Your hips move of their own volition, and he lets go of your breast to sit on your bed like he belongs there.

He spreads a little, pats his thigh. ‘Sit on me,’ he says, voice thick, buttery.

You settle into his lap, legs either side of his taut torso. The bulge of his cock nestles between your legs, hard and hot against your centre.

He cups your breast again, reaches behind your back. ‘Can I take this off?’

You unhook your bra and he presses a kiss over the upper curve of your breasts. He nudges your flesh with his nose and licks a firm stripe over your taut nipple.

You whimper as he lavishes attention on your breasts, lapping at your nipples, sucking a hickey into your left breast.

Your panties are ruined, bunched between your legs, and you’re rolling your slit over his bare cock. Taehyung lifts his lips from your breasts just long enough to groan and grip your hip.

‘You’re so wet, baby, look at you making a mess on my dick,’ he says, grunting as you roll your hips again. 

‘Want you,’ you plead.

He grins at you as you pass him a condom, and he’s so pretty he takes your breath away.

‘Put it on me,’ he says. 

He groans as you pinch the tip and roll the condom down over his shaft.

Then you’re lowering yourself down on top of him, whining at the slide. His cock is thick, girthy and curved so that it hits you just right when he’s fully inside you.

Taehyung looks up at you, somehow still in control even though you’re on top of him.

He bucks his hips up into you, gripping your hips so he can fuck you in hard, deep strokes. 

You lean over his chest, and he opens his mouth eagerly, capturing your lips, one hand leaving your hips to cup your head.

‘Easy, baby, easy,’ he murmurs against your skin, voice slurred, a deep baritone that makes you clench around him helplessly. 

He splays a big warm hand over your ass, helping you ride him.

‘Tae,’ you gasp, ‘I’m —-‘

You cry out as you come, waves of pleasure making your breath quicken and your teeth clamp down on his lower lip.

He hisses but he doesn’t stop, grinding up into you until he comes with a deep groan. His fingers are so tight on your ass cheek you’re sure he’ll leave marks. 

You collapse down next to him, panting.

Taehyung ties off the condom, tosses it on the floor and you’re so fucked out you can’t find it in yourself to care.

He pulls you into his arms with a confidence that takes your breath away.

‘Can I stay for a bit?’

‘You can stay over if you want,’ you offer.

‘Good,’ he says, half-asleep already. ‘Let’s do this again later.’

***

Yoongi’s sipping something from a hip flask as you both wait for Namjoon to finish reading a story to the second grade class he’s visiting.

You nudge Yoongi. ‘What is that? Let me have some.’

He glances at you and hands over the flask.

You take a big gulp and double over as the whiskey burns its way down your gullet.

Yoongi, amused, takes the flask back.

It’s a while before your eyes stop watering.

‘Yoongi,’ you rasp, accusingly, ‘what the —-‘

He shrugs. ‘Didn’t know what a lightweight you were.’

He claps politely as Namjoon finishes his story. 

The very pretty class teacher steps forward, and you can see how her knees buckle a little as Namjoon looks up from the tiny chair his big frame is sat on and stands to his full height.

He flashes her a smile and there’s a collective sigh from the crowd in the room.

Your boss, as always, is killing it.

He closes the book and hands it to her. ‘It’s one of my favourites,’ he says, giving her another charmingly dimpled smile.

‘You’re one of my favourites,’ the teacher blurts out.

She recovers valiantly. ‘I mean, your police accountability policy is truly meaningful.’

‘Thank you,’ says Namjoon. ‘Perhaps we can discuss it over a drink sometime.’

Yoongi, beside you, rolls his eyes. ‘You can take the fuckboi out of university but you can’t change his stripes.’

‘You’re mixing up metaphors,’ you say drowsily.

Yoongi glances at you. ‘Fuck! You really are a lightweight.’

He says, ‘go sober up. Namjoon and I will meet you back at the office.’

You’re waiting by the main road for the bus when a metallic grey sports car pulls up in front of you.

The window rolls down, and you’re greeted by a familiar very beautiful face.

‘Need a ride, pretty girl?’ Taehyung asks.

You’ve met up a couple times since that first time. The last time you met him was last weekend when he ordered you Chinese takeout and then ate you out until you cried. 

‘Where you headed?’ Taehyung asks, openly ogling your thigh where your coat’s fallen open and your skirt’s ridden up. 

‘Back to the office,’ you say, giving him your own admiring look back.

He’s dressed sharply, you can’t tell if his clothes are perfectly tailored or if his build is perfect for the clothes he chooses.

It’s probably both, you’ve seen him naked, you can verify how perfectly proportioned his body is. 

‘Want to get lunch?’ he asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. 

His hand crosses the console between you, his finger traces a line down your hand.

‘Do you mean lunch?’ you ask.

Taehyung laughs, warm and rich. ‘Yeah. I mean lunch. We’re still on for drinks later, aren’t we?’

This time, you know he doesn’t just mean drinks.

‘Yeah.’

Taehyung laughs again, faintly mocking, and hums to himself as he picks up speed, concentrating on the road now.

His hand curves over the gear stick, gripping it with a confidence that you really fucking like.

You wonder if you’re playing with fire.

***

Taehyung pulls up to the front of your building and tilts his chin.

‘Looks like your big brothers disapprove of me,’ he says, nodding towards Yoongi and Namjoon standing on the front steps, a spark in his eyes that makes you smile.

‘Please they’re not my brothers. They just don’t want to train another minion. I’m good at my job,’ you say, waving a hand. 

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Taehyung replies. ‘I’ll pick you up after work, ok?’

Yoongi crosses his arms as you approach, head tilted. 

It’s Namjoon who speaks. 

‘What are you doing with the snake’s minion, Y/N?’

‘We went for lunch,’ you reply truthfully. ‘And his name’s Taehyung.’

‘How can he afford a car like that at this stage in his career?’ Yoongi wonders. ‘It must pay well working for a backstabbing lying cutthroat slimefucker.’

‘Slimefucker,’ you muse, trailing behind Namjoon as you head into the building. 

Namjoon stops so suddenly you run straight into his back. 

Namjoon reaches behind him to steady you. 

‘Speaking of.’ 

You peek over Namjoon’s broad shoulder to see Jung Hoseok. 

He’s dressed in an exquisitely cut maroon suit, hair styled away from his face.

He smiles at you over Namjoon’s shoulder, and Namjoon straightens to his full height before you can smile back, obscuring your view. 

Yoongi closes the gap between him and Namjoon, blocking you off completely. 

‘Hoseok,’ Namjoon says, in greeting.

‘Spoken to Han Kisung lately?’ Hoseok asks, all light and innocence.

‘If you have something to say, spit it out,’ Yoongi says, bored.

For the hundredth time you wonder what the beef is between your bosses and Jung Hoseok.

He seems perfectly nice to you. 

‘Just asking,’ Hoseok says.

You can hear him walking, footsteps getting further away.

‘Say hi to Taehyung for me,’ he calls over his shoulder.

You freeze.

Yoongi snorts. 

Namjoon says, thoughtfully, ‘I wonder if he’s really trying to help us.’

‘Hobi’s always got his own agenda,’ Yoongi says, scoffing.

‘Hobi?’ you wonder out loud.

Both men ignore you.

***

The Mendehlson-Shin fundraising gala you’re attending with Namjoon and Yoongi has better food than most other galas you’ve been to.

‘Fuck the mini-quiches,’ Yoongi says, voice a low, hard drawl by your ear. He takes your arm. 

‘Namjoon’s in a meeting with Min Hyeok,’ you say, eyes on the door of the meeting room they disappeared into. ‘Let me eat in peace.’

Yoongi lets go of your arm. ‘Damn how do you know that and I don’t?’

‘I’m good at my job,’ you reply. The rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at him properly.

‘What the fuck Yoongi?’

Yoongi pokes his tongue into his cheek, lip curling in a smirk so cocky you want to slap it off his face and ask him to slap your ass back.

He’s dressed in a black tux, silverware glinting in his ears, skin flawless, eyes dark with cynicism.

He’s stunning.

‘You don’t look bad yourself,’ he allows. His eyes scorch a path over the tops of your breasts, visible above the low neck of your black dress.

Yoongi leans over, closer to you, mouth close to your ear. 

Your eyes close involuntarily as his breath warms your cheek. 

‘We need to get a handle on Han Kisung’s motivations,’ he says, voice low. ‘If he’s whispering things in Min Hyeok’s ear, if Min Hyeok’s not going to push our police accountability campaign, hard, then we need to know before Namjoon meets the commissioner tomorrow.’

Your eyes open. ‘Sure,’ you say, a little shakily.

‘His team are by the Mendehlson table,’ Yoongi says. He holds out his arm for you to take. 

You accompany Yoongi to the throng of snarky looking politicos that make up Han Kisung’s team. He works in treasury, and honestly, anyone you’ve ever met from treasury bores you to tears.

You’re making small talk with a man who smells like the mini-quiches you never got to eat when Taehyung catches your eye from a corner of the room.

He’s making his way towards you, all besuited perfection and languid confidence, when the man besides you says, ‘hey isn’t that —-‘

You’re barely listening, curling into Taehyung’s side at the barest of pressure from his hand on your back.

‘Hey, you hungry? Let me get you something,’ Taehyung says. 

You glance at Yoongi, currently making everyone around him vie for his attention by simply withholding it and staring at his phone.

Your phone lights up. 

Yoongi: Don’t even think about leaving me here.

You sigh. ‘I gotta work, Tae.’

Taehyung says, ‘I’ve got intel on Min Hyeok and Kisung.’

You look at him uncertainly. 

You know you aren’t supposed to trust him.

Taehyung gives you one of his dazzling smiles, the warmth in his gaze stopping your internal debate.

Your phone lights up again. 

You shove it into your bag.

‘Let’s go, Tae.’

***

You can’t fit all of Kim Taehyung’s fully erect cock into your mouth, but you’ll sure as hell die trying.

Taehyung’s fingers are laced loosely in your hair, supporting your head rather than pushing you down on his dick.

He groans, voice thick and deep, head arching back against the headboard of his bed as you flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock.

His breathing’s erratic, chest heaving as you move up and down on his cock. 

He looks stunning like this, legs splayed, hips bucking up into your face. His chest is flushed, lips swollen, cheeks and chin gleaming from having buried his face in your cunt moments before.

‘Gonna cum,’ he warns, hand on the nape of your neck.

You can’t answer with your mouth full of his cock so you cup his balls and tug.

Taehyung grunts, loud, and you feel him filling your mouth, cum slipping down your throat.

He whines at the sensitivity as you swallow and lick him clean.

You lift off his still impressively hard cock, and Taehyung catches your arm.

His voice is still so low it makes you shiver when he laughs softly and says, ‘wait, baby. We aren’t done.’

He pulls you under him, cock nudging between your legs. 

There’s a rip of foil, a snick of unfurling elasticity, and then he’s sheathed himself in a condom, and then you.

The stretch of him makes warmth spread out in your belly. 

He’s slow, driving himself into you with sure, hard strokes.

His chest gleams with sweat, his shoulders are so broad he blocks out the warm glow of the lamp behind him.

‘Don’t know if I can come again,’ you tell him, breathless, pinned under him.

‘I know you can,’ he tells you firmly. ‘I’ll get us there, baby.’

He buries himself all the way inside you, stays still, kissing your face, lips parting over yours.

You can feel him getting harder inside you as he cups your breasts. 

‘These tits,’ he says, admiring, squeezing.

You hook a leg around his hips, and his hand comes up to pin your thigh to his hip.

He’s so hard now he’s making you gasp with every lunge of his hips. 

‘You feel so good,’ he croons. ‘Taking me so well.’

Taehyung whispers praise to you, slow, unhurried, until you’re coming all over his cock, a burst of pleasure so intense you feel boneless.

You remember he promised you intel on Kisung and Min Hyeok, but you can’t make your lips form the words.

Taehyung kisses the side of your face as he lays down next to you, arm curled around your naked torso.

You’re out before you can finish your next thought.

***

You wake up to a fully dressed Taehyung and a sense of having missed something important.

The sun streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows of Taehyung’s gorgeous apartment makes you sit up hurriedly. 

‘What time is it?’ you croak.

You fumble for your phone, which doesn’t light up. 

Ah shit, the battery’s dead.

‘It’s nine,’ Taehyung tells you. 

You clap your hands over your face, panicked. 

‘Shit! Namjoon’s got a big meeting with the police commissioner in half an hour.’

You’re bolting out of bed, searching for your clothes, yanking them on.

‘Min Hyeok’s not going to support the police accountability campaign,’ Taehyung tells you. ‘Kisung has him over a barrel, some favour he owes him from last year’s bribery scandal.’

You stop dead and face Taehyung. 

‘What?’

‘I tried to tell you last night but you passed out,’ Taehyung says. 

You’re already holding out your hand, palm out. ‘I need your phone, Tae, I need to let Namjoon know before he goes into that meeting.’

Taehyung hands over his phone. 

‘Fuck! I don’t know their numbers!’

You toss your dead phone into your bag, frantic.

Taehyung grips your shoulders so you’ll look at him. 

‘I’ll drive you downtown to the meeting, we can probably get there and intercept Namjoon before he goes in.’

He’s firm, calm, and you feel the panic start to ease.

‘Ok,’ you breathe. ‘Ok.’

Taehyung pulls one of his shirts over your shoulders. It smells fresh, clean, calming.

‘Come on. Let’s go.’

You’re stuck in traffic with Taehyung, trying not to cry as the minutes tick by, taking any hope of getting to Namjoon and Yoongi before the meeting with them.

Your phone’s been charging in Tae’s car but neither Namjoon nor Yoongi are answering.

You glance at the clock on the dash. 

9.20.

Taehyung sees you looking. 

‘Put your belt on, babe.’

He pulls a highly illegal u-turn, going against traffic and slipping into an alleyway.

He pulls up a hundred yards from the building, and you’re already opening the door, mumbling your thanks, and stumbling out when he says something you don’t quite catch.

You signal to him to call you and then you’re running across the street, heading to the police headquarters.

***

You’re too late.

You’re waiting outside the building when Namjoon and Yoongi come out.

You step forward. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. ‘I’m so fucking sorry. I found out about Min Hyeok and I tried to call but I was so late and my phone died—-‘

You can feel both their eyes on you, and you’re so glad Taehyung put his shirt on you because it’s so big it hides how small you feel.

Shit, you’ve fucked up.

Yoongi sighs. 

He pulls you into his side, close like he held that baby he stole the other day, and like the baby, you can’t help but lean into his warmth. 

Namjoon says, very gently, ‘it was always going to be a long shot.’

‘Come on, let’s get breakfast.’

You’re in the car between Namjoon and Yoongi when Namjoon’s phone rings.

He answers, brow furrowed. 

Then he says, ‘your full support, sir?’

You sit up and glance at Yoongi.

Namjoon’s thanking whoever’s called him profusely. 

He hangs up, and turns to you both.

He smiles, and he looks so pretty butterflies start to flutter in your chest.

‘That was Senator Kim Seo Jun,’ he tells you. ‘He’s pledged full support to our police accountability campaign.’

Hope blooms in your chest.

‘And,’ Namjoon says, ‘he’s already spoken to the police commissioner about it. We’re good to go.’

Yoongi’s already on his phone, frowning as he brings up a profile of Senator Kim.

‘I wasn’t aware Senator Kim had an interest in this,’ he says. 

You glance at the photo he’s just pulled up, and you do a double take.

He’s older, but you recognise the family resemblance immediately.

‘Shitting cuntbucket,’ breathes Yoongi. ‘He has one son, Kim Taehyung.’

***

You’re told that there’s a Christmas party every year in the department of state affairs, but this is your first one.

You check your reflection in the rearview mirror only to find Taehyung looking back at you, dark eyes affectionate.

‘You look beautiful,’ he tells you. 

You’re still smiling at his compliment when he parks up the car and turns to you.

‘I have to tell you something,’ he says, seriously.

There’s the tiniest tug of foreboding in your heart at his expression.

He comes right out with it. 

‘I’m moving to Paris.’

You stare at him for a beat, two.

‘Wow,’ you say, finally. ‘When?’

‘Next week,’ he says. ‘For a year, maybe two.’

You take a moment. Then you say, sincerely, ‘sounds amazing, Tae, I’m excited for you.’

He takes your hand. ‘I’m going to miss you,’ he says, rather sweetly. 

‘I’ll miss you too,’ you reply.

You cup his cheek, and he turns his face into your hand.

His kiss is sweet and heart melting as always.

‘I’ll write you,’ he says. ‘When I’m travelling. Send you postcards.’

You laugh. ‘I’ll send you nudes.’

‘Please,’ Taehyung says instantly, so heartfelt you both laugh.

He presses a kiss to your hand. ‘Still want me as your date?’

You pretend to think about it.

‘Are you any good at dancing?’ 

‘I’ll do my best,’ he promises.

Taehyung offers you his arm. ‘Shall we?’

***

Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok watch you and Taehyung dancing together from where they’re propping up the bar.

It’s a disco beat but neither of you seem to realise it, holding each other like you’re the only two people in the world.

‘Young love,’ muses Hoseok.

He turns to Yoongi and Namjoon. 

‘Now do you believe I want to make amends?’

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. ‘You planned this?’

Hoseok looks bored. ‘Min Hyeok was always going to let you down.’

‘Takes one snake to recognise another one,’ Yoongi retorts.

Hoseok ignores him.

‘I knew who Kim Taehyung was the moment he walked into my office and asked for a job,’ he says, studying his nails.

He shrugs. ‘I also knew he wasn’t the cutthroat type.’

He glances at Yoongi and Namjoon. ‘I’m hoping you at least picked up that your minion had him wrapped around her finger?’

Namjoon frowns. 

‘She’s very wholesome,’ Hoseok remarks. ‘Interesting how working for you two hasn’t corrupted her yet.’

Yoongi scowls. ‘We’re not that bad,’ he says.

‘Exactly. You need someone like me to get down and dirty. Get the job done.’

Namjoon raises his glass. ‘Here’s to knowing your enemies,’ he says.

Hoseok smirks and clinks his glass with his.

After a moment, Yoongi clinks too.

Hoseok tosses back his drink and puts his glass down on the bar. 

‘Going to dance?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Of course. These hips don’t lie.’ Hoseok sneers, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes as he walks away.

***

You’re sitting by the window in the conference room, looking out at the city, when Yoongi finds you.

He nods to your half empty glass. 

‘Where’s Taehyung?’ 

‘Moving to Paris,’ you tell him. 

You try to muster a smile but you can’t quite manage it.

‘You weren’t wrong to trust him,’ Yoongi tells you.

‘Ah, but I was,’ you reply. You look up at him sadly. ‘I’m going to miss him, here.’

It takes Yoongi a moment to realise you’re trying to point to your heart.

He hides his smile because you seem completely serious.

‘Come on,’ he invites. ‘Namjoon and I are drinking in the situation room.’

***

You wake in a bed you don’t remember getting into.

The room spins as you open your eyes, and it takes you a moment to get your bearings. 

Nope.

You still have no idea where you are.

You hear noises outside the door and go outside to investigate.

Min fucking Yoongi’s brewing coffee. 

You nearly pass out.

‘Did we,’ you croak.

Yoongi just looks at you a moment. 

‘Trust me, if we had you’d sure as hell remember it,’ he drawls.

Belatedly you notice you’re still fully dressed.

‘I took you home because you and Namjoon were all over each other.’

You let out a squeak.

‘Did me and Namjoon?’

‘Nope,’ replies Yoongi, popping the ‘p’. ‘Judging by all the women who came through our apartment at uni, you’d probably also remember if you had.’

You sag against his kitchen counter, relieved.

Your stomach growls, loudly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, and you can borrow some clothes if you want to take a shower. I’ll fix breakfast.’

You take a quick shower and brush your teeth, and step out into Yoongi’s kitchen. You notice he’s laid out three plates just as a shirtless Namjoon emerges from another room. 

Your gaze flicks from Namjoon’s bare chest to the knowing smirk on Yoongi’s face.

You can feel the heat of their eyes on you.

‘So,’ you say, brightly. ‘What should we do next?’

©hamsterclaw 2023

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