Away From The Sun

away from the sun

↳ soulmate au 

◇ pairing: taehyung | reader ◇ genre: fluff and soft angst ◇ word count: 20.409 ◇ warnings: none ◇ author’s note: this story involved a whole lot of research involving many topics (read on if you want to find out hehe). I tried to represent them in the best way I could, but there are probably a few inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. anyway, this is just another long plot with a bit of cheese on the side. please enjoy :) 

Once every five years, when the June solstice arrives and graces the sky with the midnight sun, a comet dashes by.

It is more than just a blinking light that moves at an unhinged speed. According to what you’ve heard, it looks like it stills in the middle of the vastness of space, and its tail flickers and shimmies in long tendrils of vibrant colors full of meaning — a subtle force that speaks to the humans who look up to the stars and set their eyes on the glowing meteorite, unique but just as intense for every single gaze. It speaks of soulmates and fate, of heavy truths and indelible bonds.

Each person sees a different pool of colors. You’ve heard more than a thousand stories, of people who saw the colors of the fireplace and others who were seized by the soothing hues of woodland during dawn. You’ve read about colors that go from the red blush of a beach beneath the sunset to the ivory traces of a wintry hill covered in thick snow. The colors do not give them the name of their soulmates, but once they find their other half, they will see those rich tones reflected in their lover’s eyes.

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📕BTS Fic Reads - 2022 Mar to May (Pt 1)

I have been doing this monthly reading lists for years now 🥺.

I was supposed to do something for my blog anniversary but I couldn’t find the time  👉🏽👈🏽🥺.  I couldn’t organize my readings enough to share (and went back to silent reading too 🥺). But anyway, I’m sort of back and here’s my attempt to organize fics reblogged, commented on, bookmarked, etc. from March to May🌹

💟 Please show these authors appreciation the most by commenting/ reblogging their fics and sending them nice asks =). Thank you, dearest authors! Days are usually tough and your stories have been part of my activities to de-stress💟

[around 100+ fics]

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OFF THE TABLE - KTH

“just know that with us, it’s never off the table..”

↬ synopsis: a horrific case from 1993 has resurfaced 29 years later, leaving kim taehyung & mei yuna to argue in favour of the public to keep the defendant in jail for life. the only problem? the pair despise each other.

pairings - taehyung x female oc

genre - smut, fluff, angst

warnings/tags - enemies2lovers, co-workers au, office romance, age gap?¿ (taehyung and oc are 5 years apart), explicit smut, implied public indecency, manipulation, blackmail, sexual tension, teasing, mentions of childhood abuse, vague depictions of torture, swearing + more

a/n: i hope you’re all into steamy office romances. this is something i’ve been writing on the side, which i posted on wattpad, but i’m also looking to start posting on tumblr so here we are! hope you all enjoy <3

(if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please send in an ask and i’ll be more than happy to add you!)

likes and reblogs are appreciated ^^

CONTENTS

CASE DETAILS + PROFILES

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8 - NEW!

CHAPTER NINE - coming soon!

Of Lace and Lust | KTH {M}

friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing. 

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: smut, fluff, a sprinkle of angst words: 11.8k contains: college au, roommate au, childhood best friends to lovers, underwear kink, masturbation, fingering, oral (f), condomless sex, so much softness, light dirty talk, definitely too much plot

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better than sex | myg | 1

🍑Pairing: Yoongi x Producer!Reader

🍑Genre: fluff, smut, studio!au

🍑Summary: As Min Yoongi’s studio neighbor and self-proclaimed nemesis, you’ve always seen him as someone who knew how to maintain a clean, well-put-together image without any careless slip-ups. But after nearly walking in on him with a hand around his cock, you gain a new perspective that leads to steamy fantasies in your bedroom and much-needed inspiration in the studio for Bantan’s next album. A week before track submissions are due, you give Yoongi a taste of the dirty demo, and now the selfish bastard wants to claim it for his own solo album. In exchange, he offers to help you produce another Bangtan track by the end of the week. Your only condition is for this track to be better than the sexual fantasies that inspired its predecessor.

🍑Word Count: 4.7k

🍑Warnings: yoongi touches boobs, masturbation (m/f), a lot more smut to come in future chapters

🍑A/N: this fic started as a shower thought🚿

As a songwriter and producer, you’re expected to create something out of nothing. You’re expected to turn a blank canvas into the next big hit—something unique, something that would never exist without you. But the thing is, nothing is truly ever spawned out of thin air. Like superheroes who save the world, every song has its own origin story.

This, of course, includes the final track you’ve been working on for Bangtan’s next album. As with many of your best tracks, inspiration hit you while you were showering at one in the morning. Sometimes the inspiration is a reflection of how good or bad your day went. Sometimes it’s sparked by the fruity dessert you just devoured, or the heated breakup you witnessed on your walk home. But not this one.

This one was lust. More specifically, it was the lust you felt after entering Genius Lab with pure intentions and leaving with the vivid mental image of Min Yoongi jerking off in his studio. You hadn’t caught him outright with his hand around his cock, but you certainly walked in before he had time to hide the evidence. You’d always thought him to be a man who never slips up, never shows any sign of weakness. 

But boy did he slip up.

One week ago

“Hey Piano Guy, can I borrow you for a sec?” You knock on the studio door next to yours. “I have a melody in my head right now, and I think it’d sound kinda sick on the piano.”

After 30 seconds, there’s still no response. You could always work it out on the piano by yourself, but it’s a lot easier with an extra set of hands. And besides, you don’t hate the idea of spending time with the handsome boy.

“Yoongi, please. Before I forget how it goes. My memory is fading, please.” Just as you raise your fist to pound on his door some more, it swings open. Yoongi leans against the doorframe with a hand in his pocket. The first thing he does is pinch down on the hem of your sleeve, coaxing you to lower your fist out of his face. You don’t think too much about how his forehead and cheeks are looking extra dewy today. He smells like his usual cedarwood cologne, so you don’t suppose he just finished working out, either.

“Isn’t it too early for you to be picking fights with me?” His voice is low and calm, almost like he’d just woken up. On most days, you probably would fight him—he’s the enemy, after all. Not like an actual enemy, though. Just someone who goes along with your banter and gives you something to look forward to at work. Unfortunately, there’s no time for his teasing when there’s a billion-dollar melody on the line.

“I’m not picking a fight with you.” As you correct him, you do a mental calculation of the space between Yoongi’s body and the opposite side of the doorframe. A tight fit, but it might be just enough room to weasel your way in. “I’m enlisting your help for a potential song idea.” 

He must’ve caught a glimpse of that mischievous sparkle in your eye because he’s quick to put his arm up across the entrance. “Don’t even think about it.” 

You frown, but it doesn’t last long. With a playful grin and fluttery eyelashes, you say, “C’mon, this could be the hook that wins Bangtan a Grammy.”

You notice his fingers slowly slipping against the doorframe. The ends of his lips curve upward ever so slightly. This barricade is coming down whether he likes it or not.

Yoongi looks behind him, combs his fingers through his hair, and lets out a sigh. “You need me? Like right now?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely trying to shoo you away or if he just wants you to admit that you enjoy being around him. Usually, it’s the latter. But he does seem a bit off today.

“I mean, I could ask Namjoon—”

“Five minutes,” Yoongi cuts you off, dragging you with him into his lair and mumbling to himself about “the things he does for you” and how “you act like you can’t figure it out yourself on the guitar.” You take a seat at the piano bench and pull the boy down right beside you. He supposedly only has a handful of minutes to spare in his busy schedule, and yet here he is, taking his sweet time warming up with some scales.

Either he doesn’t trust Namjoon’s piano skills, or someone’s a little jealous.

For as many times as you’ve watched Yoongi at the piano, it never gets old. His long fingers stroke each key so gracefully, yet with purpose. It takes way more than a few years of dedication and a genuine love of the instrument to be at his level. It’s mesmerizing.

“So what’s this Grammy award-winning banger you speak of?” he asks, creating his own piano version of Yet To Come. Oh right, the banger. How did it go again?

You search every inch of your brain, but instead of recalling the melody you felt so confident in, all you find are Yoongi’s piano covers of Bangtan songs. Well this is awkward.

“It… kind of disappeared from my memory,” you say in a hushed voice, still staring down at the keys. In your defense, Yoongi was a huge distraction with those dexterous piano fingers.

He stops mid-measure and shakes his head at you. “Tsk, tsk, Y/N.” Rather than annoyed, he’s amused. “So were you just using that as an excuse to infiltrate Genius Lab or what?”

You roll your eyes. Yoongi always acts like his studio is some sort of sacred chamber only accessible to those he deems worthy. Maybe you should set up your own high-tech security system for your studio so that you don’t get 20 weekly visits from him like an alley cat coming back for more table scraps.

“Bold assumption, but I only came here with the purest of intentions.” With a hmph, you slide your ass off the bench. Instead of heading for the door, you wander over to the side of his studio with all of the fancy producer equipment. You make yourself comfortable and spin around in his big cushy chair. It’s still radiating leftover heat from Yoongi’s own ass cheeks. “Were you in the middle of something just before I got here?”

The boy strides over, waiting for you to have your back to his desk. He steadies the chair with a strong hand so that you’re facing him and can’t spin around anymore. “That’s confidential information.”

“This chair is still warm, so you were obviously sitting here working on something. You might as well fess up.” You hug your knees to your chest and peer up at him with wonder. “Is it your solo album?”

He doesn’t answer you right away. It’s a yes-or-no question. There shouldn’t be anything to think about. Eventually, though, he shakes his head.

You try not to frown so he doesn’t see your disappointment. Ever since D-2, you’ve been patiently waiting for a solo album from him. Because you’d love to snag a spot on it as one of the producers he collaborates with. But Yoongi doesn’t need to know that right now.

“Can you at least give me a hint, then?” You hop out of the chair, scurry around the boy, and examine his desk. Not much is on it aside from his computer, a few MIDI controllers, and a black bottle of cologne. You wiggle the mouse around to wake the computer up, but the screen remains dark. “Seriously? You turned your computer off so I wouldn’t be able to snoop? Is that why it took you a decade to answer the door?”

“We all know how nosy you are. Like a curious kitten.” His voice comes from right behind you. With the clicks of several buttons, the computer screen flashes on, and he types his password in faster than you can decode it. He takes control of the mouse, but you don’t move out of the way. You can feel just how close his body is to yours, and the cedarwood is starting to drown your mind in mildly dangerous thoughts.

As Yoongi looks through his files for a track that’s “safe enough to show you,” your eyes lock onto the fancy black bottle of that intoxicating cologne. It looks expensive, sleek, and something you’d want to get your paws on. 

You scan the bottle for a brand, a name for the scent—anything that will help you get ahold of what’s on Yoongi’s body. But all you find on the front side of the bottle is a simple product description: Personal Moisturizer.

That’s definitely not cologne. 

You quickly turn back to the computer screen. An unfinished hip-hop track you’ve never heard before is playing in the background. You don’t even know when Yoongi pressed play. All you know is that you can’t exactly focus on music right now.

You’ve been in Yoongi’s studio plenty of times, and you’ve never seen this bottle sitting so casually on his desk like that. Probably because it’s normally stored away where curious kittens would never check. If it’s still lying around out in the open, then… 

Oh god. You’re so fucking oblivious.

No wonder he was trying to shoo you away. No wonder he looked like he’d just gone through an intense workout. No wonder his chair was still warm but his computer wasn’t on. He wasn’t in the middle of work when you knocked on the door. Min Yoongi was in the middle of jerking off, and you just entered his studio without a single clue.

Oh no. You can’t unsee it. It’s too vivid—the image of him panting, slumped in the same chair you were spinning around in like an idiot, hand around his hard wet cock. The long fingers that danced across the piano keys so elegantly were the same violent set of fingers that stroked him into a fervorous state where every ounce of his stoic demeanor had come undone. If his computer wasn’t on with porn plastered across the screen, you wonder who or what he was getting off to. 

A tiny, tiny part of you hopes it was you on his mind.

The funny thing is, you’ve never once even thought about him like that. Sure, the two of you have some flirty banter going on, but to you, he’s always been the kind of guy who’s more focused on his music than his sex life. And to be honest, it never actually occurred to you that Yoongi did in fact have a sex life. With that small bit of information, you feel like you’ve gained a whole new perspective. This is why they say curiosity killed the cat. It completely shattered the perfect, well-put-together image you had had of him all this time.

You’ll never see Min Yoongi the same way ever again.

When you return home that night, you aren’t thinking about the company meeting you have tomorrow morning, or what you should pack for lunch, or the award-winning melody that vanished into the abyss along with the rest of your rational thoughts.

You plop your body onto your bed and let yourself think of Yoongi. It’s probably a big mistake, but you can’t help it. 

He’s incredibly handsome, you’ve always thought so. And you admire the work he puts into each and every one of his tracks. Likewise, you know he respects you the same. After all, he lets you into his sacred studio more than anyone else. He couldn’t say no to you, even with a whole ass bottle of lube still out in the open.

The image of him with his fingers gripping tightly around his swollen cock haunts your mind once more. His head is thrown back, sweat running down his neck, and he’s out of breath. You want to know how he sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure, when he’s lost all control. His voice is already so raspy, so low, and so goddamn hot. You want him to call you kitten again, but maybe without the “curious” part attached to it. Anything to hear his bedroom voice. A single moan from him might be enough to set you off. 

You unbutton your shorts and slip your fingers beneath the lace of your underwear. To your surprise, you’re already soaked in these erotic fantasies you never thought you’d be having about your studio neighbor. You’ve known the guy for two years, and it’s only now that you’re lusting after him? How did you have that much self-control for so long?

A gasp escapes your throat as you rub around your center. You squirm to your own touch as you apply more pressure and speed. Harder, faster. You love it, but it’s familiar and predictable, and it’s been a while since you’ve been pleasured by someone else’s hands. Your body aches for those long veiny fingers to play with you like a piano.

As the pleasure builds, you wonder how far Yoongi had gotten before you rudely interrupted him. It’d feel pretty shitty to be so close yet denied of it all because you decided to knock on his door right at that moment. If you had known what was truly going on behind that door, would you have still chosen music over lust? Or would you have thrown that Grammy away to learn what Min Yoongi tastes like when he’s overtaken by his deepest desires? 

In the end, it doesn’t really matter because you came out of his studio with neither.

After a rather underwhelming orgasm, you roll off your bed and drag your feet into the bathroom for a hot shower. 

You know you should stop while you’re still ahead. Fantasies need to remain fantasies and nothing more. Sex between you and Yoongi isn’t going to happen. It’s not worth sacrificing the music you need to be making with him instead of love. You hate that you were considering it for even a second.

But your irrational desires need an outlet.

As hot water trickles down your body, the steam clouds your thoughts. And in the haze, you long for something new and different. Now that you know what you know, you wish Yoongi would show you that other side of himself, the side he keeps hidden behind those studio doors. 

You want it so bad.

And that’s when it hits you.

It’s been a week since you visited Yoongi in his studio on that fateful morning. You’ve been hard at work, piecing together the final track for Bangtan’s album. The demo is nearly complete, and you’re actually super satisfied with how it’s turning out. The vibe is sensual, full of temptation, and far dirtier than any other track with your name on it. 

It only makes sense that the file name for this track is “sex.wav,” which will of course be changed before anyone else sees it. You’ve always had a bad habit of naming your track files based on the first thing that comes to mind, and it really shows where your head has been at this week.

Even Jimin, who helped you record the demo, asked if there was some sort of recent breakthrough in your sex life. When you told him no, he winked and said, “Yoongi is single, you know.” Sometimes you regret confiding in Jimin about your desire to make it onto Yoongi’s solo album because now he’s under the impression that you have some sort of crush on the rapper.

For the record, you don’t have feelings for Yoongi. It’d just be nice to fuck him once, get it out of your system, and the two of you will probably be back to the usual harmless banter that keeps you going every day.

You have to admit, though, your sexual urges came through when you needed them most. After losing the precious (and very wholesome) brain cells containing that award-winning melody, you were in desperate need of a new idea to go off of for that final track. Thanks to the hot and bothered part of your brain, you became super inspired and productive. 

For once in your music career, you’re actually a whole week ahead of schedule instead of just barely meeting deadlines at midnight. With the sex.wav demo near completion, you’ll have this week to relax and take time for yourself.

Thank you, Min Yoongi.

“Y/N, can I come in?” Speaking of the devil, Yoongi pops his head in the doorway. It’s his third visit to your studio this week, and it’s only Monday.

“Come, come,” you say, gesturing for him to hurry on in. You’re confident he’ll vibe with the track, and you’re excited to hear what he has to say about it.

“Jimin told me you guys finished recording the demo,” he says over your shoulder. He places a hand on top of your chair and leans his weight against it like he owns the place.

“We did.” You sit up tall in your chair with a healthy glow and hand the boy some headphones. “I might still go back and tweak a few things, but it’s pretty much done.”

You stare up at him shamelessly as he focuses all of his attention on your demo. Yoongi is the type of guy who doesn’t react or say much on his first listen. He’ll always listen with an open mind and give you his honest opinion once he’s had time to take it all in. That’s why he’s always one of the first people you show your work to.

When the demo ends, he doesn’t hit replay. Instead, he hangs the headphones around his neck and stares at your computer screen, deep in thought. You start to think he hated it so much that he can’t even give it a second listen and he’s trying to find the right words to tell you.

“Why did you name the file sex.wav?” Ah shit, he wasn’t supposed to see that. No one was.

“It’s sexy, isn’t it?” you say softly, starting to shrink in your chair. He still hasn’t said whether he likes it or not.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He drums his fingertips against your desk. You wonder if those fingers have touched any cock lately. “It’s different from your usual stuff.”

You just blink at him, unsure of how to react. Good different or bad different?

“Good different,” he clarifies, as if he’s read your mind. He’s still not giving you much to go off of, though. And you’re starting to get impatient.

Yoongi looks at you, opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. You’ve never seen the boy so speechless.

“What?” you ask. If he doesn’t spit it out right now, you’re going to lose it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Please.” It’s hard to read his straight face, but something’s definitely on his mind. You need to know what’s bothering him.

“Who inspired it?” he asks. Not what. Who. This must be his not-so-subtle way of asking who you’ve been sleeping with. It’s none of his business, really. And he knows it. That’s why he was so hesitant to ask in the first place.

“Are you sure you want to hear about all the guys I’ve had sex with?” You casually raise an eyebrow at him and watch closely for a reaction. Maybe it’ll make him jealous.

“It’s about all the sex you’ve ever had?” He looks like he’s not fully convinced. No, it’s actually about the sex you haven’t had. The good kind. The wild kind. The kind that ends with you all tangled in the sheets with Min Yoongi. But you can’t tell him that.

“I’m just fucking with you. I wish I could say I’ve had good enough sex to inspire this track.” You take a jab at yourself, but you really hope you aren’t coming across as lonely or needy for a man. 

Yoongi’s face relaxes a little more, still drumming those fingers against your desk. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

He doesn’t elaborate on that, nor do you ask him to.

“Can I have it?” he asks out of nowhere. Have what? Sex with you? “On my solo album?”

Oh.

“You want this track on your album?” Is the boy really tempting you with something you’ve waited so long for? Of course you want to scream yes, but… “You’d really steal from Bangtan to claim it as your own?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a selfish asshole,” he pouts. Since when did Min Yoongi ever pout? You’ve never seen this side of him either. It’s fascinating.

You bite your lip. “Yoongi, I’d be down, but the deadline is approaching and I’m going to be one track short if I give you this one.” 

“When’s the deadline?”

“Next Monday.”

The boy pulls out his phone and flicks his thumb across the screen. If you had to guess, he’s checking his schedule.

“I’ll help you produce another one for Bangtan,” he says so casually and confidently.

“Are you sure you’ll have time for that?” You don’t know Yoongi’s full schedule off the top of your head, but you do recall Jimin mentioning this week would be hectic for the group.

“I’ll make time.” All he does is shrug. “I should be free after 10 on most nights. Sunday, I can be in the studio by 6AM—”

“Yoongi.” You stop him before he can say anything else outrageous. Not that you’re being any more rational. You’re about to kiss your much-deserved week of freedom goodbye all for this boy with a pouty lip. “I’ll see what I can do, and you can pitch in. But please don’t overwork yourself for this.” You point at the screen, at the track he wants so badly.

He nods. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You want to ask Yoongi what he’ll give you in return for doing him this favor, but you aren’t really interested in anything from him aside from his company. And maybe sex. 

Instead, you ask, “May I ask why you want this track so badly?”

“Because I like it.” He pulls the headphones off his neck and hangs them around yours. There’s no way he fell in love with the track after listening to it only once. That’s unheard of for him. There must be another reason. “Oh, and I also heard you wanted a spot on my solo album.”

You’re going to kill Park Jimin.

“Right,” you say, spinning your chair around so that Yoongi can’t see the nasty texts you’re sending to his friend.

Y/N💅 [8:23PM] “fuck you park jimin”

Y/N💅 [8:23PM] “i thought we agreed not to tell my nemesis that id like to be on his solo album”

Jimin🍡 [8:24PM] “Yoongi’s your nemesis?”

Jimin🍡 [8:24PM] “I thought you had a raging boner for him🍆”

Y/N💅 [8:24PM] “i hate you btw”

“You have a raging boner for me?” You hear a mix of shock, amusement, and arrogance over your shoulder. But mostly arrogance. You lock your phone screen even though it’s already too late. You’ve been caught. Evidently, you aren’t the only nosy one here.

You swing your head around, practically nose to nose with your nemesis. He can probably feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. But you don’t back off. Instead, you glare. “Neither you nor Jimin know what you’re talking about.”

“I guess only you know then, Y/N.” Yoongi doesn’t back away either. He eyes your lips the way you eye a strawberry popsicle on the hottest day of the year. You make a conscious effort to not let your eyes do the same. You don’t need to be reminded of how perfectly plush his lips must feel against everything they touch.

But if he wants to play this game with you, you’ll play along. And you won’t lose.

You lean in closer and graze your cheek against his. In a hushed voice, you say, “Do you want to know who really inspired that track?”

He nods against your skin. Your lips tickle his ear.

“I was visiting a friend last week, and I left his place with a new perspective. I thought, maybe this guy wasn’t just the grumpy asshole workaholic I knew him to be. Maybe he’d been hiding this dirty, sexed-up side of himself the whole time.” You pause for dramatic effect. “Do you want to know why I thought this?”

He nods again.

“You forgot to hide your personal moisturizer before I walked into your studio.” You finally lean back to see the look on his face. His pupils are huge, his lips are parted, but he doesn’t necessarily look embarrassed for someone who was practically caught with his hands in his pants.

In fact, the more time he spends thinking about it, the more he realizes what your story says about you. “So what you’re saying is that you do in fact have a raging boner for me and I was your inspiration for that sex track? I’m honored.”

You hate that he’s such a good listener who knows how to dissect every word you say.

“Would y’all quit saying I have a raging boner?” You roll your eyes, but it does feel oddly satisfying when Yoongi and Jimin treat you like one of the guys.

“What should I call it then?” Yoongi chuckles. He doesn’t do it often, but you like it when he laughs. “Horny eyes? Unfulfilled sexual desires? A wet p—”

You get up and give him a light shove against the desk. He’s still got a smirk on his face as you pin him there. “Call it a severe distaste for your bullshit,” you say sweetly with a handful of his shirt in your fist. 

A strong hand cups your chin. He leans in close enough for you to smell the minty lip balm you always see him applying. You want to taste it. “Admit it,” he says, “You like my bullshit.”

You feel each of his words against your lips. By the time he reached “bullshit,” you’d already pressed your lips into his. He doesn’t fight it. You taste the mint, then his tongue.

His hands start to wander along your curves. He finds the bare skin between your crop top and high-waisted shorts and works his way up your ribs. You hope he can’t feel the goosebumps when his thumbs sneak into your bra and flirt with the sides of your breasts. You just want him to keep exploring and familiarizing himself with your body. 

In the next moment, he has you pinned in with your ass on top of the desk. In front of you is not the grumpy idol boy you’ve maintained a clean, professional relationship with for the past two years. The Yoongi standing here between your thighs is an irresistible temptation. He’s your fantasy turned reality. And maybe he wants you as much as you want him. 

But before you can loop your limbs around him and lasso him in for more, he steps back and points his thumb at the door. “I have to get back to my studio.”

No, he doesn’t. He’s just playing hard to get. And you hate him for it.

“To work or to jerk off?” you call out as he walks further and further away from you.

“Work, of course,” he sings. You don’t believe him. He’s a liar and a tease. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Y/N. To work on the new track.”

You almost forgot about that replacement track. After all, Yoongi’s hands and lips were pretty big distractions that you once again fell victim to. But regardless of the hold he thinks he has on you now, you still want to establish strict criteria for the song you’ll be working on with him. Only one thing comes to your flustered mind.

“Wait, Yoongi.” You wait for him to turn back around in the doorway. There’s still a hint of a smile lingering on his face. He probably thinks you’re calling him back for some more studio mischief. Too bad he’s wrong. “I have one condition for that new track.”

“Go on.”

“It has to be better than the sex track I’m giving you for your solo album.” You kick your legs back and forth—the same legs that could’ve been squeezing Yoongi’s waist in a heated makeout session right about now. “Way better.”

You won’t accept anything less from the man.

“So it has to be better than your cute little erotic fantasies of me?” Yoongi puts a hand up. Then he’s gone. “Shouldn’t be an issue.”

☆ favorite bts fics ☆

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*edit note: i was up real late when i made this and i didn't think about the possibility that i didn’t credited the authors properly. so thanks to the people who pointed out, i looked over and made sure everything is credited to the original authors who wrote the stories listed here! i will make sure next time the stories i put up here are credited to the author! thank u!*

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋfluff: 20%

Ψ(☆ｗ☆)Ψ smut: 80%

🦋  - fluff

🦇 - smut ( you’ll be seeing a lot of these)

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☆ Kim Namjoon ☆:

WET | joon-com 🦇

seat 287 | knjsnoona 🦇

Ramen? | solarwonux 🦇🦋

Problem Solved (M) | sugasbabiie 🦇

Hard, Harder, Hardest | honeymoonjin 🦇

Sexual Healing | honeymoonjin 🦇

☆ Kim Seokjin ☆

Breeding Kink | your-daily-biaswrecking 🦇

☆ Min Yoongi ☆

Vanilla!yoongi discovers he likes choking | your-daily-biaswrecking 🦇

☆ Jung Hoseok ☆

needy | grinnieyoongi 🦋 🦇

Hard, Harder, Hardest | honeymoonjin 🦇

Message Recieved | sunshinerainbowsbts 🦇

☆ Park Jimin ☆

You Have To Be Quiet | your-daily-biaswrecking 🦇

☆ Kim Taehyung ☆

Hard, Harder, Hardest | honeymoonjin 🦇

girls like you.| bratkook 🦇

greengreengreen | njssi 🦇

Player Two. ( w/ jjk) | minjoonalist  🦇

☆ Jeon Jungkook ☆

REQUEST | joon-com 🦇

A Lazy Saturday | silmiastories🦇 🦋

come over. | bratkook 🦇

The Art of Boxing (M) | seokiie 🦇

Player Two. ( w/ kth) | minjoonalist 🦇

Missed You More | spiderlilyserendipity  🦋

Make You Silly | dreamescapeswriting 🦇

Game Over | rmverse 🦇🦋

caught me | jeongie 🦇

quickie | melaninkpopimagines 🦇

☆ OT7 ☆

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