❥ Summary: Why did you have to fall in love with the K-pop star? Things between you and Taehyung should’ve never gone this far, and walking away is the only way to fix it. Taehyung has other plans, though. The constant calls, desperate messages, showing up at your apartment at 2 a.m. He’ll do anything to prove that letting him go is a mistake. Because you may be ready to walk away, but Taehyung isn’t ready to lose you.
❥ A/N: Hellos I'm back luvs! I honestly didn't even think that I would be writing anymore, but after seeing BTS perform in person, something switched on in me. The love for them has always been there; I had just lost my passion for writing, but I've been feeling inspired lately, and I'm ready to give this a go again. I hope you guys enjoy this! It's going to have multiple parts!
"Please don't hide yourself from me," Taehyung begs as he leans on the bathroom door. You could hear the soft thuds echo through your hotel room each time his head fell against the wood.
You knew a day would come when you would feel this way, but you never expected it to happen so soon. Here you were looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, wondering why he was with you. Every day, there was a new rumor circulating about him linked to Korea's hottest model or another girl group member. It was a constant reminder that the two of you came from completely different worlds.
"I don't know if we should keep doing this, Tae," you softly whisper, fingers gripping the edge of the sink, trying to keep your voice steady. The pained gasp that escapes his lips is hard to miss in the quiet room.
"Baby, please."
Would you be making a mistake giving up after being together for 2 years? You don't want to throw away all the beautiful memories and moments created together, but how much longer would you be a secret?
"I think you should really just go, Tae," you manage to get out.
As you stare into the mirror, you can't help but think your mom was right. If the two of you were in a relationship, why was he always spotted with different actresses or models? You didn't want to come across as an insecure girlfriend, so you rarely questioned him. When you did, however, you'd get somewhat the same range of responses anytime you brought up a new rumor.
Business Dinner.
Networking.
Charity Event.
Music Collab.
It wasn't anything you could really argue about because, at the end of the day, everything was connected with his career, and he didn't exactly have a normal career. He just happened to have the one where you could never be seen with him, or so he made it seem. Then again, he met you while on vacation, and what should have just been a short summer fling turned into more.
He chased you down the beach and asked for your number on the last day of your vacation.
He flew you out to Korea to witness his comeback performance live.
He introduced you to his friends and parents.
He moved you into your own luxury apartment not too far from him.
"I'm not leaving. Can we talk about things?" The desperation in his voice grows with each word.
"There's nothing for us to talk about," you reply, feeling more sure of your decision.
The rattle of the doorknob causes you to turn around as Taehyung continues to struggle with it, except it won't budge. You needed your space from him; it was the only way you could think clearly.
"Y/N, unlock the door for me. You can't just end things like this!" His voice rises at the end, and you can hear the frustration building up.
"Well, this is me ending things, Taehyung. Just leave," you say louder, your voice feeling even more firm and steady as things start to add up in your mind.
"Open this door and stop hidin-"
"Stop hiding?!" Your hand swings the door open and Taehyung stumbles from the sudden loss of support. He quickly regains his balance, hands reaching towards your face.
"You want to talk about hiding?" You swat his hands away from your face as you try to push past him, but before you can get further, his fingers circle your wrist, pulling you to him.
"YOU'VE BEEN HIDING ME OUR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP!"
You shout, yanking your wrist from his hand, watching his eyes widen at your sudden outburst. You had never said it out loud before, and it even shocked you. It was a small ember that was slowly building in your relationship for months, and it wasn't until this moment that it finally erupted into flames.
Taehyung opens his mouth to respond just as a knock sounds from the door.
"Taehyung? Y/N? Everything okay in there?" Namjoon's voice is full of concern, and suddenly you realize the entire hall must've heard the two of you.
You can see the wheels turning behind Taehyung's eyes as he stands there, tongue pressed against his cheek before turning away from you. His fingertips brush through his honey blonde hair as he opens the door, not to find only Namjoon, but Jungkook and Jimin standing at his sides as well.
"Y/N, hey, are you okay?" Jimin pushed past Taehyung, not even glancing at him as he walked straight over to you. You hadn't realized it, but at some point tears began to fall, and now they were running uncontrollably down your cheeks.
"What did you do?" Jungkook pressed as he walked up to Taehyung.
There was no point in questioning him. Taehyung couldn't take his eyes off you and the way you tried to turn away from him, almost burrowing into Jimin's arms so he couldn't see you.
"I want to leave."
You manage to get the words out softly without your voice cracking.
"Y/N, maybe you guys should talk befo-"
"Please, Namjoon. I can't." The words are so soft and barely above a whisper as more tears begin to fall.
"Oka-"
You flinch, turning around to see Taehyung with both hands against the wall, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with each heavy breath. The clenching and unclenching of his right hand is enough for you to register the loud sound that came from his hand slamming into the wall. You didn't like to see him hurting, but it was unfair for you to be hurting as well.
"Look, maybe you two just need some space to cool down, and you guys can talk later," Namjoon explains to Tae with a reassuring hand on his back. He leans in and whispers something in his ear, but you can't make it out.
All you witness is the slight nod from Tae as he straightens up and runs a hand across his face before turning to face you. He takes a step in your direction, and you can't help but take a step back. You could feel the blood rushing through your veins.
You weren't scared of him, not one bit. You could never be scared of him. You were scared of falling back into his lap, easily giving in to keep the peace and returning to being his secret.
Tae closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, visibly hurt by you stepping away from him.
"We can talk after the concert. I'll give you some space," he breathes out, quickly leaving the hotel room, not giving anyone a chance to speak.
"I'll go talk to him," Namjoon manages to say, giving Jungkook and Jimin a look before rushing out of the room.
"It's my fault. I should've left a long time ago," you say, sliding your body down until you're sat on the floor, arms wrapped around your legs.
"Hey hey, that's not true," Jungkook says, walking over and crouching down to your level.
"Yeah, we all know how much Taehyung loves you. You're all he ever talks about," Jimin chimes in as he runs his hand across your back.
"I just feel like I can't handle it anymore. I've been a secret for so long. It's so hard living in the shadows," you express, resting your head across the top of your knees.
"Okay, how about this? You take a bubble bath, relax, clear your thoughts, and just put on a movie instead of coming to the concert," Jimin suggests as he begins walking towards the bathroom door.
You look up at Jimin, not expecting that response at all. Tae would be expecting you there and probably looking out for you in the crowd. Even during previous fights, you would always show up, standing in the same designated spot for him to find you.
"Wait, Jimin, I don't know if Tae would be okay-"
Before Jungkook can finish his sentence, Jimin is already cutting him off with an explanation.
"They need a little bit of space; missing one concert isn't going to ruin things."
Jungkook hesitantly nods before standing to his full height and reaching his hands down to help you up.
"Grab your clothes, and we'll run you a bubble bath before we leave," he smiles before rubbing your head, ruffling up your hair, and chuckling as you rush to fix it.
You watch as he follows Jimin into the bathroom and softly closes the door. As you move to rummage through your suitcase, the steady sound of water falling into the tub fills the room. You settle on some fluffy pajama pants and one of Tae's old oversized T-shirts you slept in every night.
Even though the running water echoes through the room, you can still hear the quiet mumbles of Jimin and Jungkook. It sounds like they're going back and forth, and you can't help but step closer to the door.
"Come on, Jimin, you know it's not right!"
The roughness in Jungkook's voice takes you by surprise. What could cause such a reaction from him?
"It's not our place at all. It's not our relationship," Jimin's voice sounds seconds later, just as rough.
It's Jungkook's next sentence that causes your heart to drop. It feels like the wind is blown out of you as a truth is revealed. Your head begins to spin as question after question clouds your mind.
"Management told him two months ago he could go public with their relationship. So why hasn't he?"
❥ Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! I love to hear your thoughts ✨
synopsis: you & namjoon have been inseparable since kindergarten. as you navigate through college life that bond continues with pretty kisses and set routines. when you're in a bad mood on a busy day, namjoon has to remind you to not act out.
warnings: 8k words, no usage of y/n, somewhat underground!bts, touches of dom/sub relationship, brat tamer!namjoon, bratty/spoiled! reader, hyperfem! reader, fingering, reader is described as “little” and namjoon “big” but only in height, spanking, face slapping, reprimanding, car sex, exhibitionism (only for the foreplay,) oral (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise, mating press, rough & unprotected sex, creaming, choking, hair pulling, backshots, very mean!namjoon, calls himself daddy towards the end, he has a filthy mouth, size kink, AGAIN...
ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ. author's note: repost from my old account. luv joon & his short hair so that’s what i’m referring to >.<
since the first "get to know you" day of kindergarten, you and kim namjoon have been inseparable. having clicked as soon as a light blue clad joon's eyes met pastel pink and bows you during lunch time.
he could vividly remember the sloppily written lettering of your name on the small "hello, my name is" sticker laid prettily on your left shoulder, the thick curls of your hair pulled back into a ponytail with pink ribbon decorating the base.
the way your eyes lit up as you opened your hello kitty lunch box to find it full of sweets and a quick, homemade meal with chicken cut up into the shape of a bunny. watching as you pushed the box between the two of you to share, chubby cheeks stuffed to the brim.
though, he loved to leave out the part where he cried as the school day came to a close, balling a tiny yet impossibly tight fist into the fabric of your dress to the point where he had to be pried away by his eomma and promised that he'd see you the next day.
as time went on and in middle school came, you two would be seen attached at the hip: walking to school together with namjoon carrying your bag and tying your shoes, bringing you to class, and so forth and so on.
it was safe to say that from then on, the pair of you had wreaked havoc on each of the poor teachers of your school careers; gossiping in the back of class, being utterly unproductive during group projects, and many, many others that led to weeks spent in the library after school for detention.
see, as you graduated to high-school nothing changed.
sure you'd grown far maturer and became introduced to a world full of negative influences, but the bond between you two never wavered. the red ribbon of fate still connects you thoroughly by the pinky finger.
namjoon became captain of the robotics team and you a cheerleader, but your set routine as best-friends lingered—strengthening even.
he began growing protective, seeing as you were the same pretty little innocent thing you'd been since elementary, still dressed in pink and bows but now catching the unwanted attention of the outside world.
and when rumors of the two of you being together found themselves slithering into the minds of the student body, joon didn't do a thing to stop them, reveling in the comfort it gave him with assurance of your safety.
it even landed you a golden spot in the high-school yearbook of superlatives, both your names written in bold letters under 'Most Likely to Stay Together After Graduation.'
and stay together is exactly what you did.
fast forward to your senior year of college, it's the first semester and you and namjoon share a small yet comfortably luxe apartment in the heart of seoul, decorated to a distinct mixture of the two of you—lots of greenery and wooden accents for namjoon with pink throw pillows and hello kitty shaped plant pots for you.
it's endearing, seeing traces of your familiarity and passion like a juxtaposition throughout the home. wouldn't want it any other way.
about nine thirty is when you pop up out of bed, your hair strewn about your head askew to the left, proof of your habit of being quite the wild sleeper.
you make quick work of hopping the shower and starting your daily routine, lathering yourself in your favorite honey vanilla lotion and layering the scent with a lightly scented perfume.
by the time you throw on a matching set and your favorite robe, fuzzy slippers on your cold feet before trudging into the living room, you catch sight of namjoon bare chested with a pair if oversized plaid pajama pants hanging low on his waist, a watering pot in hand as he tends to the plants he likes to call your children.
the morning sun beams brightly between the white, linen curtains of the room, the harsh light bothering your eyes and makes you bring a nimble hand up to try and block it out whilst grimacing.
"and she finally awakes. morning, baby," he smiles, eyes low but ever so expressive as he looks at you with nothing short of adoration.
"there's tea and oatmeal for you on the counter. go on and eat for me, okay?" namjoon's always been a morning person, finding himself awake at the ass-crack of dawn to read, meditate, and do a little bit of writing here and there.
so it doesn't surprise you that he's chipper so early, cheesing, voice a little louder than intended. though, it does make you grumble with annoyance and pout, mood sour as your head pounds.
not saying much as you walk to the marbled island counter that sits dead smack in the center of the kitchen, your kuromi mug steaming from the peach tea he'd made and next to it, a brown wooden bowl and spoon filled with warm oatmeal that's topped with berries, honey, and vanilla granola—just to your preference.
"remember, we have to stop by the studio to meet up with the guys today," he's calling out to you. "gotta leave out by eleven."
"i know, joon," you grumble, snarky and mean but you really don't mean it. you just weren't feeling the best and your words escape you without the slightest thought of how they might sound.
"don't start. fix the attitude before we leave out," he says, voice stern and commanding as he washes his hands, drying them before leaning back onto his palms when he goes to glare at you shoveling food into your mouth.
you pause, cheeks round and swollen with oatmeal. "'m just tired."
"i know, princess. once we get back home, you can take the rest of the day resting up," he's promising, kissing your forehead from across the counter, and reassuring you that it'll be quick.
you hum and namjoon finds it all too amusing when you stomp your little self over to the sink, sulking and pouting as you wash out your dishes.
it takes everything in him not to take matters into his own hands and straighten you out right then and there. spanking your lil ass raw 'till you remember your manners but it's early, and hopefully the combination of food in your system and sun on your skin puts you in a better mood.
you drag your feet up the stairs, the sound of your slippers scrapping against the wooden flooring making him groan. "pick up your feet," he says, scowling when you merely put your middle finger up in his direction.
that's strike one.
at the vanity situated on your side of the room specifically dedicated to you and your makeup process, you sniff whilst putting the finishing touches to your beat: gold highlighter in your inner corners and a black wing on the outer, pink blush on your cheeks. you put extra attention on your makeup today, hoping that it would help with your mood.
just a heads up, it didn't.
namjoon stands dressed in all black: a pull over hoodie with a white tank underneath that's peeking out at the bottom, oversized, black sweatpants, a leather bomber jacket, and pairs it with low top, nike blazer courts. he leans against the door frame with crossed arms, admiring as you line your lips with brown and fill the inside with pink gloss.
"how are you feeling," he asks as he makes his way toward you, hands grasping onto your shoulders when he stands behind your chair. you make eye contact in the mirror, him almost immediately catching sight of your lip jutting out on instinct.
"do you think i look pretty?" you disregard his prior question, responding with your own because you need confirmation on days that you feel like shit.
he smiles at your reflection, bending down to speak into your ear and takes pride in seeing your reaction. squirming in your seat. "the fuckin' prettiest, baby."
"do you really think so?" he coos at your round eyes that stare back into his within the mirror. “or are you only saying it because you have to?”
"i know so, my love.”
you commend him for his efforts but it just wasn't enough. you were too far deep.
"god, i just want this day to fucking end," you say and it makes joon press his lips together and you know why. he's always hated when you cursed, believing that pretty girls shouldn't say ugly words, and he's right, usually is. but right now, you're blind to what differentiates ugly from pretty.
the angel on your shoulder tells you to revert back to old ways, fall into line and be his good girl for the day, but the devil on the opposite reigns supreme, poking and stabbing at namjoon's buttons that are clearly lined with the warning, "do. not. touch." it’s just so tempting.
"what'd i say about today?" you hear his voice ask, eyes now low and mean, just waiting for you to give him reason to take you over his lap. you're working your way up to strike two. just about one and a third now.
"to not act out and to fix my attitude." you roll your eyes as you recite the words, standing before nudging him out of the way so you could get pass. grabbing your bag, you leave the room with knitted brows. "ugh."
it takes namjoon a moment to gather himself. you hear him speak a few sharp words under his breath before bringing the skin of his lip between his teeth to stop himself, feeling the pot start to boil with each passing moment. but he breathes, tells himself that this run should be quick, the faster it goes, the quicker he can get you in bed and figure out a way to make this tantrum go away.
joon can't help the clenching of his jaw, chewing on his tongue as he heads downstairs, your jacket in his hand. taking care of you, he helps you work your arms into the sleeves of it: his old letterman jacket from highschool in which his name decorates the back with the number "7" underneath it. ironic, right?
his eyes peer down at you when he goes to open the door for you, shutting it and making sure to lock it once you know you have everything, because you're known for leaving things behind and throwing an absolute fit once you realize.
there's been so many times where you've been late for reservations, gathering, events, because fifteen minutes into the ride, you're only then noticing that you left your lip gloss on the kitchen counter and proceed to cry until he's forced to drive back to get it.
the boys have always told him that he's spoiled you rotten. giving you anything you could ever ask for at the drop of the dime just because he likes it when you're smiling from ear to ear. he's been giving you your way for the longest because you're so pretty when you look up at him with awaiting eyes.
it's been so long catering to you, expecting everything to fall into the palms of your hands. it's gotten so bad that whenever you hear the word 'no' directed towards you, you're immediately storming off and throwing a hissy fit.
it's not your fault for being princess, is what he likes to say. trying to justify both his and your actions but when push comes to shove, there's no other possible outcome other than being faced with the fact that you're a spoiled little brat and it's ultimately his fault.
that's why you huff when he goes to grab at the passenger side door handle just so that you wouldn't have to—just because you know you've got him so tightly wrapped around your pinkie finger.
he tugs at it, waiting for you to tuck your head under the frame and when you don't, he's bringing his free hand to the crown of your head, pressing down to force you into the plush of the seat as if he were a cop detaining a suspect before slamming the door shut.
there's nothing that you want more than to curl up into a ball and run back into the comfort of your own home, hands tightening into little fists and they rest on your thighs.
you can't help but take notice on the way namjoon's jaw bulges from its clinching, pearly white teeth grinding because he's this fucking close to being mean. this close to leaving you crying because that's the way you're trying to make him feel—like a fucking asshole.
he doesn't understand it. namjoon can't see to understand for the life of him how a girl so pretty can be so utterly filled with the overwhelming urge to be such a brat despite getting everything she's ever asked.
you wanna go out shopping for your girls trip next month? one that he's funding? yeah of course, he's holding your bags and trailing behind an empty handed you from store to store.
you've been looking at that one dior bag for the longest, right? the next day, you see a pretty box wrapped up in a pink bow with a bouquet of dozens of your favorite flowers resting in the bed when you come back from your weekly luxury spa visit.
but when he asks you for one thing. that being to put your attitude aside for just a couple hours, he's met with nothing. nada. zilch.
it infuriates him. the sweet, round faced namjoon with a thick wallet and a means to please you starting to fade into the version of himself who doesn't put up with your bullshit and isn't afraid of putting you in your place.
it's a rarity that you're in trouble—or even falling close to it. he's always been patient with you, able to talk to you in just the right tone to hold you off. gets your head floating and molding you until you break away from that more brattier side of you.
it's easy to do but quite frankly, namjoon is becoming fed up with your shit.
the night before, you had been fine. he'd held you in his arms, kissed both sets of your lips as a reward, whispered in your ear sweet nothings until your eyes fluttered shut. everything was perfect. absolutely what could've changed overnight?
when he made it to the driver's side of the car, lips pursed shut and pads of two fingers to the feature as he pulled out of the parking spot, you found yourself practically compressed against the passenger side door, head leaning against the cool glass, trying to melt and camouflage into it.
you know he still cares when he motions with his fingers and tells you to put something on the radio, eyes never moving from their position on the road.
and you do so, otw by khalid sounding from the speakers. it's mellowing, soothing. has the knot at the small of your back diminishing, making you sigh as you watch the blur of tall buildings and street lights shoot past you.
it's a fairly quick ride to the studio, being midday on a tuesday, everyone's already at work so traffic is minimal. namjoon's easily able to put an extra force behind his foot on the gas, weaving in and out of lanes because the streets are pretty much dead.
parking in the small lot situated at the back of the building, joon takes a look to his right to see you dozed off. eyes closed, hands folded in your lap whilst your neck bends uncomfortably to the right.
gently, he rests his hand on the side of your face, softly hoisting you up before unbuckling your seatbelt. "mama, we're here," he speaks just above what describes a whisper.
it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, squinting once they finally open before you realize a tense groan. "mm, joon, can i just stay in here," you ask, comfortable in your spot. it's not like you were going to do anything in there but sit off to the side. could he just let you be?
"i don't know how long i'll be here for. you have to come in," he's saying, shaking his head back and forth. one good look at the way your face morphs into an unfitting scowl, he knows he's gonna have to take a different approach.
he removes his keys from the ignition, stepping out of the car before he's rounding the hood and making his way to your side. you watch as he opens the passenger door, leaning his body forward to where his upper half is in the frame, face now leveled with your own and just a few inches away. so close that you can smell the mint on his breath.
"don't get in here acting a fucking fool," he says, gripping into your chin when you go to turn your head the opposite way. his tone catches you off guard. only then do you realize that he's had it about up to here with you.
you pull your face away from his, only to get back a thick hand wrapping around your neck, fingers pressing into the base tightly to have you drawing closer and closer. his lips ghost your own as he's growing more stern and stern. "do it, and see what happens. i'll embarrass you."
"okay, joon." your eyes water, but he knows it isn't real. big, fat crocodile tears because you know its his weakness. you think they'll work but he's too far deep, grabbing your hands to guide you from the car's seat.
still, your lip is jutted out in a pout, allowing for yourself to be pulled up to the stairs of the studio, dark double doors opening before you in which you're stepping into with your free hand pulled into a fist.
the other six that make up bangtan are already situated in their designated booth, engaged in playful banter as they wait for the leader.
upon walking into the room and immediately catching sight of two free chairs seated to the far left that you just know namjoon will be pushing you into, you quickly decide against it when you see an empty chair next to jimin. you're then pulling your hand from his larger one to make a beeline directly to it.
he cuts his eyes, leaving the situation alone for now. he'll let you think you've gotten under his skin when in reality, you're just digging yourself deeper into a problem you'll have to face once you get home.
at this point, it's inevitable.
jimin stifles a laugh when you make your way over. pretty face balled up tightly and he thinks you resemble an angry little bunny. "hi, pretty," he greets, smiling when you sit and wave.
"hyung, what'd you do to her," jungkook turns to ask namjoon, a ball point pen pressed to his small notebook in which holds the lyrics of their upcoming album. "looks just about ready to knock someone's head clean off."
that makes them all laugh and you have to grab onto the underside of the chair to stop yourself from calling an uber and leaving. pronto.
its humiliating when namjoon chuckles, sitting down and making himself comfortable on the couch in which yoongi and hoseok does too, legs parted with his arms crossed at his roomy chest. "she wouldn't swat at a fly, let alone lay hands on somebody," he speaks, having zero regard for the way you glare at him from the other side of the room.
you want to say something, want to argue back with a sharp tongue and harsh words but namjoon's voice back in the car played repeatedly in your mind, the look in his eye when he grabbed onto your throat. it was grounding enough to have you pursing your lips to keep them shut.
leaning back in your chair, you pull out your phone, your case glimmers and gleams, rhinestones catching onto the iridescent light illuminating the room, and namjoon watches as you type, biting down on his tongue while a smile forms on your pretty lips.
you're typing away to someone with eager eyes, fingers tapping and your nails clanking against the screen and it drives joon mad. so utterly and completely insane. it's a little irrational but you probably could've blinked in the wrong way and his top would pop the fuck off.
you've made his patience wear dangerously thin. just a little more pressure until it snaps.
an hour and a half passes, full of paperwork signing and a few touch ups to certain tracks here and there. at least forty-five minutes of it was spent with you giggling under your breath at whatever pops up on your for you page and direct messages from friends.
a few times, you even tilted your screen into jimin's direction in between topics to show something you found funny in which he would always watch and chuckle before shooting a quick glance into his hyung's direction, welcomed with the sight of slitted eyes and a clenched jaw, and he's quick to put two and two together.
when yoongi finishes playing the tracklist for their new album, bangtan decides to call it quits, even so much as setting up an impromptu hotpot and karaoke night for celebration amongst the guys.
but unfortunately for you, namjoon has other plans. "can i rain check tonight," he asks before continuing. "i have to have to get home and do some work around the house."
your eyebrows shoot up, dropping your phone into your lap to look at him incredulously knowing damn well it's a lie, but you keep your mouth shut and wait until they exchange words, saying that it’s no problem and to get home safely.
"don't touch me," you say, wincing when namjoon tightly grips onto your forearm, neck bulging with veins as he seethes.
you're done for.
each of his buttons are pressed, control switches in gear—set in stone. there's no running or hiding because now, you're on strike three and no amount of faux tears can get you out of the lesson you're about to get taught.
"walk or i'll throw your lil ass over my shoulder," he says, voice deep, demanding, and leaving no room for back talk, and you can't make space, either. "and i dare you to try it. i really fuckin' do."
it has you pressing one foot in front of the other, legs shaky whilst your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. seems you might've bitten off way more than you could chew.
you and jimin lock eyes and immediately you're met with a smile so sickly sweet because he knows that'll be that last touch of gentle you'll get. the dark glint in his hyung's eyes tells him everything he needs to know.
you're fucked. both literally and figuratively.
good luck, he mouths over before you're being dragged out of the studio by the intense grip on your arm. you'll need it.
you shake in namjoon's hold, back flexing away from his touch when his hand moves to the back of your neck, clutching tightly. it's grounding. keeping your head from straying too far from the harsh reality of the situation at hand.
"been acting out your fuckin' ass all day," he speaks, fumbling with his keys to press the unlock button. but he waits to put you in the car, turning you around so that you face him.
you're able to see the skin of his forehead crease in annoyance, his thin eyebrows that arch with anger, and his lips that utter sharp words.
"you're being mean, joonie. don't be mean to me," you say, thinking it's gonna get you somewhere but news flash: it doesn't.
"i'm being mean," he laughs but it's humorless. tongue drawing circle on the wall of his inner cheek to stop himself from causing a scene. “you've been mean to me this entire morning and when you finally get me to where you've wanted, i'm being mean?"
"get in the fuckin' car." when you go to interject, he's grabbing your face, digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks so that your lips jut out in a pout. "don't talk to me."
he then nudges you away, going to round the trunk till he's getting situated into the driver's seat, not even opening your door like the gentleman he is. because right now, fiery hot annoyance bubbles within him and he's ready to put you in your place. asap.
you huff as you get into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut at your side before your arms are crossing over your chest that heaves, pretty tits pressed against your forearms and it takes everything in namjoon not to pull your top down and suck on your pebbled nipples right then and there.
"don't slam my doors. you know how i feel about that," he speaks, not bothering to look at you because he knows it'll have him crumbling. he needs you to learn. to learn that there's a time and place for everything. and the day that he actually needs to get things done is absolutely not one of them.
"i honestly don't care," you say, looking out the window so that you wouldn't have to face namjoon's intimidating eyes. "wouldn't be slamming shit if you just left me home."
that's when you feel the press of namjoon's nike clad foot to the gas pedal. "you keep talkin'," he grunts out when the driver beside him honks, continuing when he bobs the lanes in order to get around them. "keep fuckin' digging a hole you can't cry yourself out of."
"but imma tear your lil ass up when we get home. don't even worry about it."
your lips part into a silent gasp, eyes widening. "what, that's not even fair. you've been acting like an asshole to me all day! i just wanted to stay home and get some rest because my head was fucking pounding, namjoon."
"i asked you to do one thing. one thing only. gave you tylenol, fed you, and asked you to do one thing as simple as be good and you do the exact opposite." his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. "and now you wanna cry wolf because you're in trouble."
he's chuckling, low in a deep rumble from the center of his chest. you can feel the irritation bubbling up, rising to his neck in the form of stubborn veins and its suffocating. too much.
it's only when the car slows to a stop at a red light when namjoon acknowledges you, looking in your direction with mean eyes. "get in the backseat," he's saying as he presses down on the lock of your seatbelt, hearing the familiar 'click!' before he's roughing you up. "hurry the fuck up."
tears swell your eyelids at his tone. "stop cursing at me," you retaliate, voice small though the increasingly wet patch in your panties is thick, filled with arousal because the duality of him has you spinning. it's satiating.
"you only seem to listen when i speak to you like this so get in the fucking backseat. now."
it has you scrambling, your miniskirt catching onto the rounds of your ass when you go to climb over the center console and into the back, legs feeling like jelly but it feels so good.
the light turns green and off joon goes, speeding down the streets but one arm reaches behind his seat that's already slightly pushed back to accommodate his size, making it easy for his hand to grasp onto your ankles placing them onto the console before he's pulling down your skirt, never removing his eyes from the road.
he’s always been good at multitasking.
"get her ready for me," he says and now it's crazily obvious why he put you there. the backseat windows are tinted, only being able to see out but not the other way around. it blocks the view of inside the car, giving the perfect place to have you spread out and completely at his mercy.
you give him what he wants without needing further instruction, fingers shooting down to pull inside the skimpy cloth you call underwear and immediately being met with cool air directly on your clit. it makes a shiver run up your spine before you're spreading your pussy lips open, fingers in the shape of a ‘v’ as they glisten with your honeyed slick.
sucking in a breath through your front teeth in the form of a hiss, you and namjoon lock eyes in the overhead mirror, and it makes you gasp when his free hand slaps at your clit, palm hitting repetitively until you squirm.
"joon, joonie, i'm sorry, baby," you whine and hiccup, closing your legs over his hand, leaving it between your thighs that spasm from the sensitivity of your clit. but you forget namjoon's strong, easily able to get himself out of it by nudging them apart with his elbow as if it was nothing.
"hold them the fuck open. stop playing with me," he speaks and it's so mean but nonetheless has you growing wetter and wetter with each passing moment.
you put your forearms underneath the backs over your knees, toes curling when they press up against the seats up front. so undeniably spread open that it's degrading.
simultaneously, your fingers resume their thumbing at your pussy, tips catching at your entrance before dipping in, making room for the thickness of namjoon's dick that's soon to come.
the squelching is obscene, loud over joji's 'night rider.' your pussy talks, singing along to the beat that plays lowly through the speakers. you wish you could block out the sound, finding it embarrassing as is.
the pace you build up is slow but ever so needy, clenching around your digits and they drag in and out before scissoring, stretching it out. but you need more, need to feel namjoon. have him inside you.
so you beg, plead, "please, joon. touch me, please. i'm so sorry." tears run down your face, eyeliner dripping already because you've never been able to handle what you dish out, and namjoon finds it funny. the irony.
the way you're so quick to break, being so apologetic and sweet when beforehand you were nothing close. again, namjoon can't help but laugh.
"you already crying?" and in response, you nod your head, still fucking yourself as you spew. "i'm so sorry. i-i didn't mean it."
his hand finds home between your legs and you think he's gonna slip his fingers in but are sadly mistaken when another forceful slap is laid to your cunt. "shut up. i don't want to hear any of that shit. you wanted this so deal with it."
"but—"
he cuts you off before you can get the rest of your words out. "but nothing. hush." by then, he's already pulling into the garage, car being placed in park.
but when he goes to step out, he merely uses the control gears on the side of the seat to maneuver it closer to the steering wheel, providing more space for him to join you in the backseat.
when he rounds the trunk of the blacked out audi, pushing himself into the seat behind the passenger's side, he's pulling you to him, legs dangling off the side of his wide shoulders. "been acting up all day," he mumbles, lips puckering up but they don't meet the ones north. they trail downward, latching onto your clit, sucking so that he can feel it rub against his tongue.
you moan, back arching against the coolness of his dark interior, hands trying to clutch onto him, to push or pull, give some sort of relief to the emptiness of you but he's grabbing your wrists, pinning them to your stomach. "you don't get to touch me," he speaks, the breath from his words battering up against your core, leaving you shaky and defenseless.
he licks a stripe before spitting, messy in the way he eats because he wants you dripping, easy enough to slide in and out of without working up a sweat. namjoon plans on wrecking your shit, leave you walking funny for days, a reminder that pretty girls don't cry when they get what they deserve.
you have no choice but to sit there and feel him spit, suck, lick, repeat, over and over again, the sound of his smacking and you gushing loud in your ears until your muscles flex, ankles crossing over one another behind namjoon's necks, the heels of your feet digging into his back.
"stay right there. please, please, please," you cry, hands thrashing in his unrelenting hold and best believe your pleas aren't anywhere near quiet. it has him bringing his free hand up to your mouth, middle and ring fingers tapping on your glossy lips.
you know what he wants, so like the good girl you're trying so hard to be, you open, letting the pads of his fingertips rest heavily on your tongue before you're wrapping your lips around them, tongue swirling around the length of them as a welcome.
he's momentarily given you a reason to shut up, fucking your mouth with his fingers whilst he eats your pussy like it's the last supper. namjoon has always found pleasure in pleasuring you, loving the way you tasted like honey on his tongue, the way your moans would pull him in like a siren would a sailor. it was a danger, the way you had him wrapped around your little finger.
your thighs tighten around his head in which he's blind to, the sharp strands of his buzz cut poking at the sensitive skin there but still, he never lets up his tongue's dipping into your entrance, licking into your gummy walls that clench as you near your orgasm.
you twitch, gargle around his fingers that press to the back of your throat until you're drooling, unable to speak. but you try, incoherent babbling mixing with the sound of namjoon between your legs.
when your spasms grow quicker, he's forced to let go of your wrists, palm striking down onto your hips that rut on his face, dragging your clit up and down his nose, and it's all too much. way too much. so involuntarily, you're stopped, body pausing in the shock of your orgasm that wrecks through you without warning.
"did i tell you to fuckin' stop? keep going," he spits, spanking your ass and urging your forward, drinking up every bit that pours from you.
the way you bunch up his jacket in tight fists is endearing, almost getting namjoon to reach up and smash his lips onto yours but he stops himself, keeps up his hard exterior because he knows he needs to put you in your place. learn your lesson.
"so good, joon. right there," you whine, head thrown back as he cleans you up with his tongue, lapping up any left over so that he can slide your underwear and skirt back into your lower half before bringing your face up to his with a grounding grip onto the column of your neck.
his lips hover over your own, practically daring you to kiss him. you know better though. his mean gaze on you says that you're in for a real treat, so you wait for him to speak, too scared to break the silence that blankets you.
"you've been out of line ever since you woke the hell up. i'm tired of you acting like you don't know shit."
"but i apologized," you say, eyes round and compliant as you look at him. you're a complete 180 of how you acted this morning. now docile in the way you shrink under his gaze.
his palm smacks against your cheek, stinging hotly but it adds fuel to the fire, makes your stomach full with butterflies. "mhm, but you don't mean it. just saying what you know i want to hear." namjoon's tugging you, putting his muscles to work as they sit you upright. "get out."
he's opening the door, ducking down in order to push himself out of the frame, and he doesn't look back because he knows you'll follow, making sure to press down on the lock button situated on his keys once he hears the shut of the car door.
your hair is messy, matting up in the back because of the friction between the strands and the fabric of the car seats. the wobbliness of your legs lead to the stairs, walking past the threshold and into your home in which namjoon holds the door and waits for you to get in just before gathering the thick strands at the back of your head, using it as leverage to urge you deeper into the home.
you gasp at his handling, his chest clung to your back as he pushes and pulls. you can't help but bring your hand up to his, clutching onto his wrist to try and ease his grip.
his breath is hot on your ear, whispering right into it as he bends forward to meet your level, ass pressed against his upper thighs while the growing bulge in his joggers swells. "by the time i get up those steps, you better be just how i want you."
and you bolt, quick to kick your chunky shoes from your feet and pull the jacket from your arms, left in a little skirt and an oversized soccer jersey, though you don't get time to dwell before rushing to take it all off, left bare save for the pink set of your bra and panties. the thickness of your curls resting at your shoulders.
heavy feet fall onto wooden flooring of the hall, partly creaky, or maybe it was the sound of your heart thumping in your ears. namjoon makes his way closer to your shared bedroom, his own outwear discarded and now left in a white tank and his bottoms.
your eyes are round and glassy when you look at him, regret all over your features because you know you're in for it. the way he rounds the bed to sit at the side of it before beckoning you over to him with the simple gesture of his fingers.
he wrangles you over his lap, right arm wrapping around your waist to keep you in place while his left hand rubs at the smooth skin of your ass before striking down, the smack so hard that it has you yelping.
"y'so pretty baby but act so fuckin' bad," he speaks, unwavering when he continues to reprimand you. "make it so hard for me."
“you know i hate seeing you cry.”
you call out for him, grabbing onto his calves for stability, thighs shaking in delicious pain because while it hurts, it feels so good, adding to the slick between your legs. the tears begin to run for the third time in the last half an hour, hands going to push at his but you're being stopped with the one along your waist, pinning your wrists to your lower back.
"you've done enough. be a good girl, would you," he questions but doesn't wait for an answer. "'s exactly why you're in this predicament now." ass perched up while he spanks it raw.
his hits are rough and repeated, taking the time in between to massage them just to take that momentary relief away once more at the bat of an eye. he even slides his finger between your folds to pick up a little bit of your wetness so that he can smear it across your ass.
namjoon's hungrily listening to every whine and scream that he draws from you, his cock unbearably stiff within his boxers, tip leaky and with a pinkened blushed undertone from its neglect.
it's only when he's done with you that he brings it to attention, pulling at the back of your hair to pull your face up level to his, eyeliner dyed tears streaming down your cheeks and he coos, kissing your forehead, but still, never touches your lips.
he knows you need it, the way your eyes are cloudy, waiting for him to get you exactly where it's easy to break to down: giggly and ever so moldable. pushing down your more bratty side and swapping it out for the good girl.
so he places you on the bed, sits you in his previous position whilst he rids himself of his clothes. chest and below bare and tanned with the small ribbon bow tattoo that represents you resting on his left pec, kneeling down just enough so that he can unclamp your bra and discard your panties before pursing his lips to leave a glob of spit catching onto your entrance, adding to your already drenched cunt.
"needed me, baby? you needed me to fill you up to put you in a better mood," he questions. “all you had to do was ask. you’on need to do the extra shit.” bringing a hand to his cock to jerk, standing back to his feet to drag his tip from your clit to the strip of skin just above your puckered hole. he just just keeps doing it, back and forth, up and down, until your grow restless, quivering, advancing to wrap your legs around his hips to bring him closer.
but namjoon easily slides into you and presses his palms to the backs of your knees, pushing so that they rest at either side of your head so that you’re completely folded.
the stretch hurts, makes you vulnerable and at the hands of his mercy but you wouldn't want it any other way, laying the future of your orgasm in his hold because you know he'll cater to you in every way possible.
his hips rut, pelvis to pelvis, heavy balls pressed to the swell of your ass as he digs deeper. and your pussy spasms, hugging him, sucking him in like a whirlpool. it makes namjoon lay his weight onto your chest, picking up his pace.
“slow down,” you whine, lips parted with your head thrown back, he takes one hand from your leg to wrap around your throat, bringing your attention onto him. maintaining gut-churning eye-contact.
"take this shit," he speaks, harsh and cruel. staring into your eyes and it makes you want to shrivel up. "been fuckin' with me all day so take this shit."
“d-didn’t mean to.”
he drops his hips a hurried slam, pounding into you like you owed him something. it was unrelenting. forceful. upon the impact of his dick sliding into you, your body jerks up higher onto the bed.
“mm, look at you. be actin’ all tough in public but as soon as you get on this dick, you go silent.”
leaning over, namjoon puts his thumb onto your bottom lip, sliding it between so that he can pry open your jaw, getting your mouth wide enough so that he can spit directly into your mouth but some inevitably falls onto your cheeks and he seals, smearing it, berry lip gloss smudging while your skin stings.
he laughs in your face, finding you to be the prettiest thing. even when you’re absolutely wrecked. pussy pulsing, titties bouncing, tummy folding, and knees resting beside your head.
“you boutta cream on me,” he asks when he feels you tighten and you nod, spent on the feeling of him splitting you open with a smile on his face. “this your shit. just go ‘head.” namjoon continues to dog you out, watching as the familiar white ring coats his dick at the base and he loves the sight.
before you get the chance to come down from the high of it all, namjoon’s taking matters into his own hands and is once again repositioning you as if it were nothing. the swiftness of it gives you whiplash. he's strong without reason, makes it entirely too easy to turn you to lay on your chest in the middle of the bed, arms behind your back whilst your ass points up, arched impossibly low that it strains your spine.
his palm is pressed to your cheek, pushing your head down into the mattress. one knee to the plush of the bedding while the other is bent with his foot flat as he thrusts entirely too deep.
it's hard hearing the soppiness of you taking him in, hearing your pussy talking back, pleading to take it easy because he's being so rough and you can barely keep up. he leaves you gaping when he pulls out and kisses your clit to see it jump just to push back in with fervor afterward.
with your face forced onto its side, watching through the mirror of your vanity as namjoon loses himself in your warmth, thrusts growing sloppy and straying away from its pattern, you blindly reach behind you, feeling the weight of his dick drilling into you.
"move your hand," he speaks sternly, calling you by name and its grounding. but you can't bring yourself to do it, trying your hardest to intercept his pace by pressing down onto his lower stomach. pretty nails dragging down the skin.
"i can't, joon," you plead, eyes rolling to the back of your head, toes curling. "god, it's too much." you involuntarily break your arch, back hunching, going to stand onto your knees to get namjoon to let up but he doesn’t let you.
pressing down on your back, moving your hand himself and pulling your hips up to get you right back into position he wants you, namjoon isn’t one for mercy as he digs back in. "nah, don't run from it.” he lays a heavy smack to your ass, watching as the flesh jiggles, so he does it again.
and again. and again. and again.
“fuck me back, baby.” he knows you’re gone when you do as he says without hesitation, smiling to himself as he feels his own toes curl. “yeah, you got it. fuck…keep goin’.”
and just like that, you’re back to your old ways. taking everything that he has to offer. throwing your ass back onto him to meet his thrusts. it has him reaching a hand down to pinch and roll your clit between two fingers, building you up so that you’ll be milking him in no time.
“all you wanted. this is all you wanted. you know daddy’s got you, baby,
a few more plunges in and you’re fluttering, cream flowing out of you, running down your thighs, and that causes a ripple effect on namjoon, his balls constricting as he paints your walls white.
and when you shake so much that you're one step away from sliding off the bed, namjoon chuckles before holding onto you tight, laying his sticky chest into your back and grabs the side of your face to smack his lips to yours.
warnings: This story contains dark yandere themes, heavy infidelity and cheating, extreme power imbalance, manipulation, coercion, and subtle forcing. It includes graphic gun threats, violence, raw and explicit hate sex, degradation, humiliation, creampie, breeding kink, and child trapping elements.
summary : In a toxic arranged marriage, you are bound to the ruthless Kim Taehyung, the violent head of Kaelum Enterprises. When you catch him with his secretary late one night..the mutual hatred between you explodes into raw and angry hate sex filled with jealousy, power play and dark possession.
Author's note : I seriously advise you to only read this if you’re into extremely toxic, unhinged and morally questionable vibes. This is pure fiction / I do not promote this behavior in real life (please don’t try to recreate any of this, you will end up in jail or therapy). Strictly 21+ only. If you’re easily triggered by dark yandere chaos, close this now and go touch some grass instead. Enjoy the ride~ 😈
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The marriage was never about love. This sham of a marriage was always about the goddamn business...fragile male egos and the violence that cursed everything it touched.
You never had a say in any of it though. Your father arranged your life like a chess piece. You were born into the kind of dirt you hated with every fiber of your being but maybe continuing to live in it was entirely your fault… you never mustered the courage to leave it all behind. Even though you despised where the money came from.....you still thrived on it. The expensive clothes.. the lavish meals.. the glittering accessories... the lifestyle had you hooked.
You couldn’t imagine going a single day without it all.
So you did what cowards do.. stayed silent and took whatever your father threw at you without making a noise. Nevertheless...you’d always thought he’d arrange you to a decent man. Someone less violent… someone more like you and less like him but he chose this darker and crueler version of everything you feared.
Lately, you’d been trying desperately to forget the ring on your finger because it bound you to the man you hated more than your own father... Kim Taehyung.
He wasn’t just your husband but was the one who built Kaelum Enterprises from the ground up.. dragging it to the top through blood.. deals and violence. You despised the kind of business he did because the underground violence followed him like a shadow.... it still gave you the luxury you couldn’t live without.
Taehyung always kept the mess away from you. He never came into the spaces you shared bloodied or disheveled. He kept you clean but that didn’t mean he was nice.
Kim Taehyung hated you down to your guts. He hated everything that threatened to snatch his free will. You were convinced that if he ever got the real chance.. he’d kill you without a second thought. The only thing stopping him was your father’s invisible leash... something you still couldn’t understand. Your father wasn’t the type of man who could overpower someone like your husband… but whatever it was, it had Taehyung right where your father wanted him.
_
You got home later than usual.. around past nine. The black strappy silk dress still looked flawless on you... clinging in all the right places. People always stared when you went out... sometimes because of how you looked and sometimes because of the guards who followed you everywhere because your husband told them to.
Dinner with your friends had been nice. You were tipsy.. just that warm buzz that made everything feel a little easier.
You stepped into the penthouse and kicked your heels off in the foyer not caring where they landed because the staff would fix it later.
The whole place was quiet and for a moment you thought maybe Taehyung wasn’t home yet.
Your mom had called earlier... asking again about the progress regarding the pregnancy. You gave her the usual excuses.
Six months married and still nothing. In their world an heir was basically required… but you barely let him touch you. How could you? You hated him too much. The only time anything had happened between you two was on your wedding night when you were both wasted....and you barely remembered it the next day.
You started walking up the stairs and that’s when you saw the light coming from his office. The door was cracked open.
Low... wet sounds were spilling out....Your stomach dropped hard.
You don’t even know why you pushed the door open... normally you would’ve just gone to your room and pretended you heard nothing... but the alcohol made you reckless.
Taehyung was sprawled back in that big leather chair like he owned the whole damn world. His black shirt was unbuttoned.. thick thighs spread. His secretary was on her knees between them.. lips wrapped around his cock.. sucking him like she was trying to win an award. The wet and filthy sounds she made churned your stomach.
For a second your chest got tight... Disgust.. anger and something you really didn’t want to name all mixed together.
Taehyung’s eyes opened slowly... sensing your presence. That lazy... lopsided smirk appeared the second he saw you standing there.
“Had a great night, wife?” he asked, voice low and rough... thick with pleasure. He didn’t stop her instead his fingers slid into her hair and pushed her down deeper as she gagged around him.
The question sounded so fucking normal.. but in this moment it made you sick. Hate burned hot in your chest and you let out a shaky and bitter laugh.
“At least have the fucking decency to close the door, you bastard,” you said, voice trembling.
“Why should I?” he shot back... head falling back against the chair like he was enjoying this way too much.
“Because people aren’t interested in seeing what a manwhore you are kim taehyung,” you snapped.. fuming.
Taehyung’s smirk didn’t drop but something flashed in his eyes. “Ah, is that any way to talk to your dear husband, kim Y/N?” he asked, voice mocking. “Hasn’t your mother taught you better?” taunting you.
“Haven’t you been taught to stop wetting your dick in every easy hole you find?” you snapped right back.. voice rising and anger visible in your eyes and posture.
You turned and pointed straight at his secretary. “And you- Ji-eun! Or Junhee! Whatever the fuck your name is..!! if even a single squeak gets out about this... I swear I’ll make sure you’re dead.”
Then the room went dead silent for a beat.
“Bold of you to threaten my people right in front of me… in my house, baby,” Taehyung said.. almost amused. His fingers flexed tighter in the secretary’s hair as he added, “Don’t forget your place.. dear wife. Trust me, I’d be more than happy to remind you.”
His voice had turned mean and dangerous.
Anger.. jealousy and frustration got the best of you. The words burst out before you could stop them. “I know my place very well, dear husband. Maybe you should remember yours too. There’s no fucking way I’m carrying the child of a bastard like you. You deserve to be back on the dirty streets where you crawled out from.”
The second the words left your mouth... even the secretary gasped... indicating that you’d crossed a line.
Taehyung’s expression darkened instantly. He shoved the secretary off him roughly. She scrambled to get up, trying to scurry away.. but he snapped, “Sit the fuck down.” He pointed at the leather sofa in the corner. She obeyed immediately... looking terrified like a kicked puppy.
He was already moving.. patience gone. In two strides he was right in front of you...his hand shooting out to grab your throat firmly.. making you gasp sharply.
“The moment I find something real against your family,” he growled.. face inches from yours, “you’re all fucking dead.”
You glared up at him...heart hammering still defiant. “You can’t do shit! Daddy has a tight leash on you...husband. Better remember your place.”
His grip tightened just a little more... thumb pressing under your jaw. His eyes were burning.
“You think so?” he said, voice dangerously soft. “Your father might have a leash on me right now… but I’ve got one on you too, baby. And I’ll gladly take it out on you whenever the fuck I want.”
The grip on your throat wasn’t choking you but it was more than enough to make your pulse race wildly under his fingers. Taehyung’s face was so close you could smell his cologne mixed with the expensive whiskey he must’ve been drinking earlier. He was pissed....really fucking pissed.
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who barely lets me touch her,” he muttered, thumb stroking the side of your neck almost mockingly. “What’s wrong, baby? Scared that if I touch you too much you’ll actually start liking it? That you’ll stop pretending you’re too good for my cock?”
His words hit hard...and yiu felt your eyes sting with unwanted tears...blinking rapidly so they wouldn’t fall. You weren’t about to cry in front of him...qtleast not like this.
You tried to shove his chest but he didn’t budge an inch...the room suddenly felt way too small and suffocating.
“Don’t touch me, you bastard. Get off,” you hissed but your voice came out breathier than you wanted...all shaky and weak.
Taehyung leaned in even closer...lips brushing your ear as he breathed, “You barged into my office without knocking, interrupting my personal time like you own the fucking place. and now you’re acting all high and mighty?”
“So now you’re gonna be a good little wife and pick up right where she left off,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “I’m your husband after all. It’s your duty to please me, right?”
“I will not,” you seethed, glaring up at him through blurry eyes. “I’ll bite it off. Don’t fucking test me.”
Taehyung’s laugh was low and ugly. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your pulse thunder under his thumb. “Try that and I’ll make sure the only thing you’re sucking for the next month is my cock until you learn obedience.”
You glared up at him with pure disgust burning in your eyes. “I’d rather die than put my mouth on your disgusting cock.”
His expression turned ice-cold in an instant..without a word...he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a sleek black pistol..aiming it straight at his secretary’s head. The girl broke instantly...sobbing in terror as she looked at you with desperate..tear filled eyes.
“Please… I don’t want to die,” she begged, voice shaking. “Please j-just do it… I’ll do anyhing, just s- suck him, please-”
The raw fear in her voice made your stomach twist..you hated him more than ever but you couldn’t let him pull the trigger just because you refused. She wasn't at fault overall.
“Fine,” you spat bitterly..humiliation burning through you. “I’ll do it. Jus-just let her go.”
Taehyung’s lips curved into a cruel..satisfied smile but he didn’t lower the gun. “No...She stays right there,” he said, voice dangerously soft. “She already saw too much tonight… let her at least have the full show, hm? Consider it a lesson for her on how a real wife pleases her husband..it'll help her in future.”
The secretary whimpered but didn’t dare move and You swallowed hard..pride shattering as you dropped to your knees in front of him. He had you where he wanted you...your hands were shaking when you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock and took him into your mouth...sucking angrily at first...rough and half heartedly.
At one point you bared your teeth..letting them scrape threateningly along his shaft.
Taehyung hissed in warning and yanked your hair back hard forcing your head up as he pressed the cold barrel of the gun briefly against your forehead. “Try that shit again,” he growled, low and deadly, “and I’ll paint the wall with your brains instead while she watches. Now suck it like you fucking mean it..wife.”
Terrified and seething with rage you obeyed. You relaxed your jaw and took him deeper..sucking him properly this time with wet..sloppy sounds your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock as you bobbed your head. Spit dripped down your chin while you worked him hating every second but too scared and turned on to stop. It was sick...he made you sick.
Taehyung groaned deeply his fingers tight in your hair as he guided your movements. “That’s it… good girl. This is exactly how you serve your husband.”
He kept you like that for several long..humiliating moments..enjoying your reluctant but obedient mouth and the terrified audience on the sofa before he finally yanked you off his cock with a wet pop..breathing hard. “You still need a lot of practice, darling, but don’t worry. I’ll train you for it later,” he commented...as if you were some broken toy that needed fixing.
He spun you around and bent you over the desk in one violent motion. Your cheek slammed against the scattered papers and spilled whiskey. The cold wet wood made you gasp. He kicked your legs wider yanking the silk dress up to your waist and tearing your panties off with a sharp rip.
You twisted...trying to push back against him even as he pinned your wrists behind your back with one large hand. “Get your filthy hands off me, you cheating piece of shit—”
His palm cracked against your ass hard enough to sting. “Filthy? Says the one who’s dripping down her thighs while calling me names.” Two thick fingers shoved inside you without mercy..curling cruelly. He took his time..pumping them slowly and deliberately stretching you open while his thumb circled your clit with lazy pressure. The filthy sounds of his fingers working in and out of your soaked cunt filled the office.
You hated how good it felt… absolutely hated the way your hips started rocking back against his hand despite yourself.
“You think you’re better than me?” he growled..scissoring his fingers deeper..stroking that sensitive spot inside you with infuriating precision. “Parading around in that dress, letting other men stare at what’s mine, then coming home to throw a tantrum because my secretary was warming my cock? At least she knows her fucking place.”
You laughed bitterly..breath hitching as another slow curl of his fingers made your toes curl. “Your place is in the gutter where you belong. Go finish in her mouth if you’re so desperate.”
Taehyung pulled his fingers out leaving you clenching around nothing. He glanced over at his secretary, still frozen on the sofa, wide-eyed and trembling. “You. Watch how a real wife takes what’s hers.” The girl was sobbing quietly as if too scared to make a noise and just nodded pathetically.
He pressed the thick head of his cock against your entrance and pushed in slowly..inch by inch, letting you feel every thick ridge as he stretched you open. When he finally bottomed out..hips flush against your ass he stayed there..grinding deep and lazy..letting you adjust to the fullness while his hand stroked down your spine almost mockingly.
“Fuck-” you hissed, nails scraping the desk as you tried to stay rigid and defiant.
He started moving then...deep and rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive nerve inside you. He fucked you like he had all night to ruin you pulling out almost completely before sinking back in with deliberate force. The slow drag made your eyes roll back. Your breaths came in shaky gasps.
“Feel that?” he murmured against your ear..leaning over you. One hand kept your wrists pinned and the other reached around to tease your clit with slow..slick circles. “This pussy was made for me. So fucking tight… greedy even when you’re spitting hate.”
You pushed back against him harder..meeting his thrusts with your own anger. “Is this all you’ve got? Pathetic. No wonder you need easy whores on their knees—”
He snarled and fisted your hair..yanking your head back so he could bite the side of your neck..sucking a dark mark into your skin. His pace picked up gradually and hips snapping harder the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. “Careful, Y/N. Keep running that mouth and I’ll put a baby in you just to shut you up.”
You laughed through a moan...breathless and venomous even as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Getting me pregnant so you can have some sort of control?”
Taehyung’s control slipped. He released your wrists and grabbed your hips with both hands and started fucking you deeper and harder..the desk creaking under the force. But you still fought twisting and desperately clawing at him...nails digging into his thigh hard enough to draw blood. He groaned at the pain..thrusting punishingly in response.
“Unfortunate for you, wife,” he growled against your ear, voice rough and dark, “but you will bear this bastard’s child. I’m done playing games.” His hand slid around to press possessively over your lower belly. “From now on this cunt is the only one getting filled...No more distractions… every last drop goes inside you until you’re swollen with my child.”
The sick promise hit you like a drug and you clenched hard around him a broken moan escaping despite your best efforts. Your body was bending..hips pushing back to meet every thrust..back arching as pleasure overrode some of your defiance. Tears of frustration and overwhelming sensation pricked your eyes.
“Fuck you—” you gasped, but the words dissolved into a whimper when he angled his hips just right and hit that perfect spot over and over.
Taehyung felt it...the way you were starting to give in. He smiled against your neck. “That’s it… let go, baby. Hate me all you want, but your body knows who it belongs to.”
He reached around again...rubbing your clit faster and perfectly in sync with his deep thrusts. The pressure built unbearably slow and intense. Your thighs trembled and your moans grew louder..less controlled. The secretary’s presence only made it more humiliating and strangely hotter.
When your orgasm finally hit..it tore through you like fire. Your walls clamped down around his cock...thighs shaking violently as you cried out. You came hard..soaking his length and body surrendering completely for those long shuddering moments while he fucked you through it...drawing it out.
Only then did Taehyung let himself go. With a guttural groan he buried himself to the hilt and came deep inside you..thick pulses of heat flooding your womb. He stayed buried...grinding lazily making sure it took.
When he finally pulled out his cum leaked slowly down your thighs. He turned you around..gripping your jaw firmly so you had to meet his eyes.
“Remember this… wife,” he said, voice low and dangerously soft. “My cock, my cum and my child..it's only you from now on…whether you like it or not… you’re mine.”
You stared back... chest heaving...legs still weak.. eyes blazing with the same toxic fire even after you’d bent under his touch. A twisted feeling settled over you... from now on.. maybe your marriage wouldn’t be so boring.
a/n: hi everyone!!! i missed being active and publishing things, I'm still drowning in work (this season's so busy for me ahhh) but I could not simply ignore this Min Yoongi idea that popped into my head one day, I hope you enjoy!! ♡
pairing: bf yoongi x fem!reader
themes: fluff, smut, public hookup, auralism >.< (Yoongi and his keen ear are really into your sounds), f rec. oral, missionary on a chair, lots of moaning and dirty talk/praise from both of you
wc: ~3.7k, 14 min
summary: Yoongi liked inviting you to join him in the studio for a few hours in the late evening whenever the rest of the team had left. The hourglass was draining of your time together before work took him out of the country again, and he wanted to make sure he had everything he'd want of yours to remember you by before flying out. Like recording a little private audio of the two of you for his safekeeping.
A familiar sigh from the desk caught your attention as you lay on the couch along the back wall.
“Tsk,” Yoongi kissed his teeth, the excessive clicking of his mouse accompanying the dampened hum of the computer.
You glanced up from your book, peeking over the pages at your boyfriend’s back. He was sitting at the desk, headphones nestled over his dark hair, and the quiet, faint sound of his instrumental played through the open back of his over-ear headphones. This was your favourite part of visiting Yoongi at the studio. After about 7 or 8, everyone else had gone home for the day, and you’d arrive with takeout and a book and get to appreciate his silent company while he puttered away with his tracks.
“Everything okay?” you asked, eyes curious, closing your book and heading over to stand behind him.
“The EQ is just messing me up,” Yoongi replied, adjusting his headphones and shaking out his hair.
He turned to look up at you with a soft smile and patted the chair next to him, welcoming you to join him at the mixer. You dropped into the rolling office chair, gazing at the collection of tracks and audio waves stretching across the monitor.
“Are you all packed yet?”
Yoongi frowned a little.
“No. And I don’t want to think about leaving right now.”
He clicked around the screen a few more times as you watched before he opened a new project window, the blank white glow of the screen illuminating both your faces in the dim room. Yoongi froze for a moment, just staring at the empty timeline, before turning his head to gaze at you.
You blinked at him, eyes curious.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Y/N. You know I love you."
You giggled.
"Yeah, Yoongi, I know you love me."
"And leaving you is torture."
"Mhm."
"Let me take a souvenir with me. Something to remember you by."
"Mm? Like what?" You cocked your head to the side, still staring at the open mixing program. Yoongi's eyes drifted to the rest of your body, scanning you up and down for a moment before landing back on your eyes with a smirk.
"Will you get in the booth for me, please?"
You let out a surprised laugh.
"And do what?"
"Just do it for me."
Yoongi turned his head back to the monitor, adjusting his headphones back onto his ears. You furrowed your brows in confusion, but stepped into the sound-dampened little room anyway. You sat down on the stool, right in front of the microphone and slid the headphones onto your ears. You gave Yoongi a little wave through the window, and he peered at you over the computer monitor with an amused, flirty grin.
He leaned forward and pressed a button on the board before you heard a little crackle in your ear.
"Alright, can you hear me okay?" His voice came through into your headphones.
You nodded and gave him a thumbs up.
"Let me hear you mic check for me."
You laughed before leaning into the microphone in front of you.
"Hiiii baby," you cooed into the mic. Your eyes were glued to your boyfriend sitting outside, watching his lazy smile grow at the sound of your voice in his ears. "You look cute sitting over there, your hair looks so pretty today."
Yoongi looked up from the computer monitor and gave you an amused, gummy smile, shaking his head. You grinned at his reaction: it didn't matter how long you two had been together, he always struggled a little to accept such sweet compliments from you.
His voice came through your headphones again.
"I'm going to adjust a few things, keep talking."
You leaned back into the mic, eyes never leaving him through the glass.
"Check check check, I'm sitting in a recording booth because you told me to," you giggled. He continued staring at the computer screen, pushing and adjusting the sliders on the master as you rambled to yourself.
"I'm going to miss you, Yoongi. It's what I get for dating a superstar, you're too loved by everyone. What am I going to do with myself while you're gone? Maybe take myself to all the restaurants I've always wanted to go to, without you..."
Yoongi snapped his head up, visibly mildly offended. You laughed into the mic before continuing.
"Okay, or I cook and order takeout from the same few spots until you come home. Does that make you feel better, handsome?"
Yoongi laughed to himself before taking his headphones off and standing up out of his chair. He opened the booth door, enveloping himself in the small room with you with a soft click of the door.
"Hi, you," you hummed with a smile as he stood next to you, hands in his hoodie pockets.
"You feel comfy in here?" he murmured, reaching out to adjust the mic stand so it lined up a little better with your mouth. You nodded, headphone cable still dangling from your ears. He gently lifted your headphones off of your ears and hung them back over the mic stand.
"I'm going to miss you," he whispered, taking a step closer towards you. You smiled at him as he closed the distance, tilting your chin up a little so that he could press a sweet kiss to your lips. You unintentionally let out a happy sigh into his mouth, and you felt him tighten his lips into the kiss.
"You know I love hearing all the pretty little sounds you make," he whispered into your mouth. "Even when I kiss you, you're so vocal for me."
You felt your cheeks warm up at his verbal observation: you knew that you were a little more chatty than your boyfriend was, but he always let you know how much he loved it when you filled the silence with your voice, and especially your sounds. It was like his ears perked up at the sound of you at any given moment.
His hands were wrapped gently around your face and neck, holding you against him firmly as he continued kissing you, just passionate enough to make you feel a little weak in the knees.
"Yoongi—" you sighed into his mouth again. Your lips parted a little more, and he took the opportunity to tilt his head further, pressing his jaw further against yours, nearly interlocking your mouths together. The deepening of the kiss sent a twitch directly in between your legs. His tongue swiped across yours in your mouth, the faint taste of mint on his tongue.
You whimpered into his mouth at the passion of his kiss, and he gave you a quiet groan back, his hands sliding down your neck and grazing down your sides until they landed on your waist.
"You're my everything," he murmured into your mouth, before his hands drifted even further south, gripping your hips and tugging you closer to him, the weight of you almost slipping off the wooden stool with how tightly he was pulling you towards him. Your legs were parted enough to let him stand between them, and you felt your boyfriend grind his hard-on into your clothed crotch, eliciting a stammered whine from you.
"Oh," you whined, your moan interrupted by another few wet smacks of your makeout. “What was that?”
Yoongi pulled away for a moment and looked at you with a smug smile.
“What was what?”
He continued kissing you, the pressure gentle enough to let you know that he was still calm and in control, but firm enough to make you feel dizzy. Every hand placement, every movement of his jaw against yours, was intentional, as if he were adamant about making the most of his limited time with you.
"You know you're the most beautiful thing in the world to me," he hummed as he slid his mouth down your jaw and planted wet kisses along your neck, his hands still roaming around your waist. Without hesitation, his right hand disappeared under your waistband, two fingers gliding possessively over your already damp underwear, just enough to make you jolt in your seat.
"Baby," you whined, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around your boyfriend's waist as he gently rubbed circles around your clit through your underwear. He hummed into your neck as he continued teasing you, his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist to hold you against him in the small room.
It wasn't long before he couldn't get enough of you, removing his lips from your collarbone with a wet smack and dropping to his knees in front of you. He started gently removing your sneakers from your feet for you, the sweetness of him taking such good care of you intensifying the burning sensation in your lower core.
He looked back up to you, still on his knees in front of you, before looping his fingers in your waistband again.
"Lift your hips up for me."
Your eyes widened at the realization of what he wanted to do to you in this rented studio.
"Yoongi, there are still staff out—"
"Who fucking cares," he muttered as he tugged your sweatpants and underwear down, sliding them down your legs until they were discarded in a neat pile by his knees on the ground. "I have you dripping in front of me like this, the last thing I'm thinking about is who else is still working."
Without another wasted moment, he leaned forward, establishing his home between your parted legs, and planted a soft, sweet kiss right over your clit, his eyes still glued to yours.
You let out a hesitant whine, your breath already hitched and shaky at the sight of your boyfriend so eager to eat you out.
"Let me taste how sweet you are for me while I'm still at work," he murmured, his eyes peering up at you from in between your legs. "Nobody else can hear us in here, I promise."
You gave a hesitant nod, still propped against him, and he gave you an appreciative, cocky smile.
He reached upwards towards the mic stand and adjusted the microphone so it was lined up a little closer to your mouth. He gave you a smug grin.
"I'm still recording, so make sure you sing a little extra well tonight, yeah, honey?"
Your mouth fell open at how forward he was, and you saw an extra little twinkle in his eyes at how shy you were getting.
"Baby, I—"
A visceral, high-pitched moan escaped your lips as Yoongi pressed his tongue firmly against your heat, licking a commanding stripe from bottom to top, parting your wet folds with his mouth.
"Fuck," you hissed, your eyes immediately fluttering shut as you held yourself up with your arms behind you, propping yourself up on the stool to give him easier access. "Oh, my god."
He chuckled into your heat at your reaction and began to lick quicker patterns against your trembling pussy, each flick of his tongue making you cry out directly into the microphone.
"Yoongi, fuck, that feels so good," you whined, bucking your hips against his face. He moaned in reciprocation, letting you grind your hips gently against his face.
"Mm, that's it."
He picked up the pace just slightly, dragging his tongue intentionally hard against your hole, letting just the tip of his tongue dip into your warm heat. You wrapped your legs around the side of his head, your body desperately encouraging him to continue. With a grumbly moan, he focused his attention on your clit, licking and suckling gently as he held you against him with his hands on your hips.
"Fuck, baby, you do that so well," you hissed, head fallen forward as you watched your boyfriend nudge his pretty face against your pussy, the lower half of his face entirely buried in you.
"Yeah, huh," he moaned back, the taste and reactions of you alone making his cock strain in his sweatpants. "You're always so easy to please, jagiya."
Yoongi looped his arms behind your knees and wrapped them around your thighs, locking his fingers together. You cried out as he held you down against his face like a seatbelt, pinning your thighs against either side of his head as he buried his face deeper into your wet heat.
"God, fuck," you cried, unable to move with the way he held you. His tongue worked your clit expertly, every massage of his wet muscle against you coaxing a whiny, pornographic moan from your lips.
"You sound so pretty for me, make such pretty noises," your boyfriend groaned into your cunt, the sounds of encouragement making him eat you out even more feverishly. "I could listen to you cry for me for hours."
Your legs were pinned down against him, unable to move or escape from the addictive sensation of your boyfriend eating you out so hungrily. You felt the familiar build-up in your lower stomach, and your pussy clenched desperately around nothing as you neared your climax.
“Yoongi I'm going to cum, fuck, Yoongi please—“
“That’s right,” he murmured against your skin. “Let me hear my name when I listen back to this.”
His one hand released you from his hold before he inserted two long fingers into your cunt, curling and beckoning against your inner wall, as if he was trying to make his tongue and fingers meet through the warm flesh of your pussy.
"Baby, oh my god, just like that," you cried, and you felt your boyfriend nod against your cunt, his tongue still connected to your clit unendingly.
Your climax overtook your body soon after; your back arched beautifully, head thrown back as you chased your ecstasy against Yoongi's mouth, his hands and arms still holding you hostage against his tongue.
The small room was filled only with the starving groans and sounds of Yoongi feasting as if you were the ripest fruit, paired with your desperate whines and cries as you rode out your high on his face. Each twitch and jolt of your body was reciprocated by another hungry, affectionate flick of his tongue against you, like he was limit testing how much of you he could consume before you were straight up crying.
“Fuck, you’re so delicious,” he groaned against your clit, his head nodding between your thighs as he drank you up. His nose was pressed firmly against your skin, desperate to feel every twitch and pulse of your orgasm against his face as you slowly dropped down from your high. His two fingers gently curled and massaged inside of you, helping you milk every last drop of pleasure out of your peak before gently slipping out of you.
Yoongi stood up, chin glistening under the single pot light in the insulated booth. Without another word, he repositioned the mic stand, angling the mic lower, about halfway between your mouth and your hips.
“Baby, what are you—“
“Gonna miss hearing the sound of you,” he murmured as he tugged down his sweatpants, freeing himself from his boxers with a yank of his elastic waistband. “Especially going to miss the sound of you taking my dick.”
Yoongi stepped closer to you and wrapped his one arm around your thigh, holding you up and open for him while his other hand guided himself into your already half-ruined entrance.
"Don't hold back," he whispered. "Wanna hear every little sound from you."
He pushed himself into your still sensitive pussy, the stretch of his cock feeling double as intense through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He let out a breathy groan at your warmth, testing your waters with a swift roll of his hips.
"Oh-oh," you whined, gripping your boyfriend's bicep, your nails desperately anchoring themselves to his muscle.
"Fuck, baby, you're wetter than ever," he moaned, his hands coming to hold your waist, giving him more leverage to pull you back onto his cock as he thrusted into you. "No keepsake can ever make me not miss this body."
You whimpered and nodded at him, unable to respond to how intensely the tip of his dick was knocking into your cervix. The angle at which you were sitting on the stool with your boyfriend standing between your legs was extra intense: the soft curve of his cock slotted perfectly inside of you this way, like the two of you were made for each other in every way.
"You make me so crazy," he muttered, rocking his hips into yours at a torturous, assertive pace. "Can't get enough of you."
The wet crude sounds of his pelvis smacking up against your drenched pussy filled the soundproof chamber. Yoongi watched you with half-lidded eyes as he fucked you in an upright missionary, your back leaned against the cushioned booth wall, your legs bent and spread wide for him as he made love to you.
"You hear that?" he groaned. "The sound of you taking me so fucking well? I can hear how wet your fucking pussy is for me, Y/N."
You nodded, your lower lip almost being pierced by how hard you were biting down. Another particularly sharp thrust of his hips made you cry out, your nails almost digging into the skin of his arms now.
"Yoo-yoongi-" you were panting now, your cheeks flushed beautifully. "Gonna-cum again, you fuck me so well, god-"
"Yeah?" Yoongi hissed, a small cocky laugh escaping his open mouth. "I know, babe."
Your walls were squeezed around him so tightly now, with how close you were to another orgasm. Yoongi dropped his head forward, cursing under his breath as he held out on his own climax, determined to finish after you had.
“You make such sweet sounds,” he murmured. “Love the way your body cries for me.”
Yoongi’s hand lifted your chin, tilting it up towards him. His mouth was half open, his pants acting as the perfect instrumental to your symphony of desperate whines. He could tell you were close, with your wide eyes and furrowed brows, lips parted in a perfect 'O', the most beautiful erotic image of his girlfriend he's ever seen.
"Close, huh," he tutted, cocky smile on his face. You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as you focused on the growing fire in your stomach.
He gave you an open-mouthed, breathy, wet kiss before lowering the mic stand closer towards your mouth.
“Into the mic, baby,” he instructed. “Wanna hear you loud and clear.”
You let out a strangled cry as your second orgasm of the night shook through your bones. Yoongi maintained his pace inside of you as you threw your head back, then forward, tossing in your chair desperately with how good every nerve ending was shocking you.
"Fu-fuck," you sobbed. "You feel-so-so good."
He raised his finger to your chin, tilting you up to look at him so he could plant another long, wet kiss on your lips.
"Fuck, Y/N," he moaned into your mouth before you felt the grip on your waist tighten, his fingers pressing so hard into your body that you felt like it could bruise. His thrusts became staggered and sloppy as he released inside of you, his warm climax flooding your insides in desperate, erotic spurts.
The wet, sticky sounds of skin-to-skin echoed throughout the room, accompanied by the whines and pants that escaped both of your lips as you came down from your highs together.
"Baby," you whimpered as Yoongi finally slowed and then halted. "Oh my god."
Your foreheads were pressed together, sweaty, warm, and both equally as spent. Yoongi's eyes were still glued to yours, a tired, panting smile plastered all over his face.
"You okay?" He grinned at you.
"Yeah," you panted, half-smile on your face, your chest heaving.
Yoongi pressed a peck to your lips.
"Good."
He slowly pulled himself out of you, the wet, sticky mess threatening to drip out of you. Yoongi picked up your underwear and sweatpants from the floor and helped you back into them. As soon as you stood up from the stool, your knees buckled and you collapsed slightly towards the floor.
"Woah," Yoongi muttered with a furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're okay?"
You let out a breathless laugh.
"Just a little wobbly, that's all."
All the concern in his expression dissipated into a cocky, smug little grin as he realized that your weak legs were a result of his performance.
"Mmkay," he tutted, tongue-in-cheek, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, helping you stand up fully. "Give me a second."
Yoongi pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before disappearing out the booth door, reappearing through the glass at the computer. The sight of him, sweaty hair, flushed cheeks, his afterglow always made your heart race. He looked so worn out, so yours.
You took a moment to yourself to readjust yourself, making sure you looked decent enough to walk past the staff out in the lobby again.
"I love you," his voice crackled through the headphones again, left abandoned, hanging on the mic stand. You heard his little voice come through the speaker and looked back up at where he was standing. He was grinning at you, leaning over the desk. "Say it back."
You leaned back into the microphone in the booth one last time, eyes still locked with his:
"I love you too, Yoongi."
He smiled widely and turned his focus back to the computer screen, finally stopping the recording.
"Cut." He said with a laugh.
"You're going to have to apologize to the staff for staying here so late," you mumbled with a laugh, finally stepping back into the studio and collecting your bag from the couch. "Let's go home."
"One second," he murmured, double-clicking the track title and landing his fingers on his keyboard. You watched as he typed out a new name for the file.
hidden track: Her
He grinned to himself before turning off the computer screen.
"Okay. Ready to head home?"
"Mhm. I'm sleepy now."
Yoongi chuckled as he stood up and grabbed his bag and headphones from the sofa, giving you a quick kiss as his hand guided you on your lower back.
( 𝓘𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 ) 𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. ˖Ი𐑼⋆ nsfw +++ mdni. no matter how embarrassing your deepest desires might be, your lovely boyfriend will always gladly let you take a seat in your fantasy... even if it means letting you ride his abs right there on the couch.
sitting on the edge of the sofa, you couldn't help but stare at your lap. your fingers tangled nervously in the hem of your shirt, your breathing just a little too shallow, and of course, HOSEOK noticed.
he was currently sprawled next to you, completely shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of loose black shorts because he was allowed to do whatever he wanted in his own home. but looking at the sculpted planes of his chest, the sharp line of his collarbones, the effortless way he exuded warmth, is when it suddenly hit you. how did i actually manage to bag someone like him? what did it even mean that jung hoseok, a global superstar and literal sunshine personified, was your boyfriend?
"baby," he murmured, his deep voice pulling you out of your trance. he leaned closer, his warm breath fanning over your cheek as you pointedly avoided his eyes. "you’re playing with your hands. you only do that when you have something on your mind. you know you can share anything and everything with me, right?"
"it's nothing, hobi," you whispered, face heating up.
"your heart is beating like crazy, though." he let out a low chuckle, reaching out to gently capture your wrists to stop your fidgeting, "tell you what... if you don't tell me in the next three seconds, i'm going to have to tickle it out of you. one... two..."
"i want to try something new!" you blurted out, the words rushing out in a desperate gasp. "i..." you squeezed your eyes shut, your cheeks burning. "i want to ride your abs."
hoseok froze, and his slightly shocked face was priceless. he took a step back mentally, blinking once, then twice. the man looked down at his own toned stomach, then back up at your red-hot face. slowly, a lazy and incredibly smug smirk spread across his lips.
“oh… oh, okay. we’re doing that tonight.”
without another word, he slid backward on the couch, spreading his long arms across the back of the cushions like a king settling onto his throne. his eyes tracked your every move as you hesitantly crawled onto his lap, sliding forward, lowering your soaked pussy directly onto his carved stomach.
you let out a soft gasp at the contact, your thighs trembling as you begin to grind. it was slow, the heat of your wet folds rubbing directly against the defined ridges of his abdomen. your boyfriend let out a low grunt, flexing beneath you, as the sudden pressure made a whimper tear from your throat.
"princess... you’re so wet i can hear it."
you groaned, your head rolling back. through your half-closed eyes, you watched the way your own slick was beginning to coat his golden skin, shining under the dim living room lights. his thick cock was throbbing just inches below you, but his abs were driving you absolutely insane.
"you’re getting off on my fucking stomach right now," hoseok rasped, his hand coming up to grip your hip, guiding your rhythm. "that’s the hottest shit i’ve ever seen."
"h-hobi..." you whined his name, closing your eyes tight as you rolled your hips up and down, the sensation of his flexing muscles pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“keep going, baby,” his thumb caressing your hip bone. “don’t stop until you come. wanna feel that pretty pussy cum make a mess all over me.”
with a broken cry and completely undone by his voice. he watched you with a proud gaze, squeezing your hip as you shuddered, your walls tightening, and when you cum, he doesn't move. just watches before he grabs your wrist and pulls you forward. as you collapsed against his chest, panting and trembling, hoseok wrapped his arms securely around your waist, pulling you close.
"my girl’s got a thing for abs, huh?"
hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a tiny whine slips past your lips as the reality of what you'd just done hits you like a hurricane. you are so incredibly down for this man, so weak for the way he praised you and loved every part of you.
" you did so well, yeah?" hoseok felt you tremble against him. his hands slid down from your hips to grip your thighs, lifting you just enough to align you with the bludge straining against his shorts. "now let's give you the real reward."
saw him on d1 munich, and this man completely bias wrecked me (and not him having the audacity to do the hip thrust move right in front of my face), so i had to write something !
taglist ( dm or comment to be added ) ⋆ @strhwa @way2jellyous @tinyfixon @thatonelocalbookworm @kookied
+18 mdni; namjoon-shaped, late night studio smut; oral (m!receiving), slight dirty talk, extremely domestic vibes, set during the la sessions, established relationship, f!reader, no "y/n"
they'll never call him effortless in the same way that hoseok is, never fluid like jimin in the practice rooms, but there is an undeniable magnetism to the way his hands move when he's "in the zone", fingers flickering and flitting through the space around him -- dragonfly-wings and hummingbird-things. you allow yourself a breath, a moment of admiration before tapping him on the shoulder.
"-- joon -- kim namjoon --"
"mm?" he tugs off the headphones; music filters through the air, crackling, popping, fizzing with energy. his eyes are dark and too-focused when he turns to you. it takes a moment before he sees you and you just know (with a familiar pang of guilt) that you'd just pulled him out of some creative flow-state.
you shoot him an apologetic smile.
"you gotta eat, babe."
his lips purse, his eyes dart back to the multitude of dials and knobs in front of him, a glittering mass of man-made stars.
namjoon's lips lilt into a smirk, eyebrows cocking up.
"oof -- babe, huh? it must be really late."
he spares a glance at the large digital clock on the wall -- 3:32am.
you give him a half-hearted shrug as he reaches out to pull you into his lap, resting his chin on your exposed shoulder, his breath warm, his heartbeat thudding against your arm as he holds you. you feel him groan more than you hear him, the gravel of it rumbling through his chest to send goosebumps dancing along your skin.
you twist, looping an arm behind his neck, fingers gentle as you massage at his skin. he sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. you lean forward to press your lips to his forehead, smiling against his skin as he lets out another (now audible) sound caught somewhere between a moan and a whine. his fingers dig into your waist; his hips shift.
you swallow down a giggle.
"joon..."
"man's gotta eat -- you said so yourself."
you swat at you, pulling back, "you know that's not what i meant!"
he laughs, dimples digging deep into his cheeks, looking somewhat abashed. you feel your stomach clench as his eyes tilt up to meet yours. he's looking at you the way he usually looks at music or a line of lyric he's particularly proud of. there's a world-hungering darkness swallowing the width of his gaze, even as he leans in, pausing half an inch before his lips meet yours -- waiting.
you allow yourself a tiny grin, your heart a tiny skipped beat (yes, even after all these years.)
"such a gentleman."
even after all these years.
his laugh is a half-caught breath before you lean forward to swallow it whole. somewhere between one kiss and the next, it melts into another mind-fizzling groan, deep enough to ground through your bones, leave you shaking.
by the time you come up for air, he's shuffled you into his lap proper, your thighs bracketing his hips, your fingers tangled in his stress-mussed hair. you lean your forehead against his and force a long breath.
"let's go home -- i can make you late-night ramyeon and --"
he steals another kiss, large palms slipping up the edge of your oversized shirt.
"-- and?" he asks, his voice whiskey-drenched, smoke-crisp at the edges, and for a second, you feel drunk -- the witching-hour lateness sticky against your skin.
you suck in another breath between your kiss-bruised lips, pressing your hands to his cheeks to hold him still before he can lean in for yet another kiss.
"and, we can finish this."
you feel his cock twitch through the fabric of his shorts, pressed against your inner thigh as you rock your hips down over him. he hisses out between his teeth, eyes half-lidded, his lips plump and spit-slicked.
"mm... but i'm almost done, baby." he casts a look over your shoulder at the dim glow of the monitor screen. you lean back, the edge of the table digging into your lower spine.
"wow, baby -- you must really wanna finish this, huh?" you tease.
namjoon grins again, dipping his head, his hand leaving your waist to scratch at his forehead.
"yeah, it's the first album after everyone's back so --" he sighs, rubbing at his eyes.
"no, i get it," you say, reaching forward to push his hair back, "but you're always telling me that chasing perfection is like chasing the horizon -- you're never gonna reach it and --"
"-- you'll be too tired to admire all the sunsets along the way --" namjoon rolls his eyes, "baby, you don't gotta quote my own sayings back at me."
you poke your finger into one of his dimples.
"don't i? cause you seem real good at forgetting them."
he puffs out a laugh before shrugging.
"what's that one saying again -- do as i say --"
"-- not as i do?" you finish for him, your own grin spreading wide as he nods, shuffling the studio chair forward to cage you against the work desk. he noses into your neck with a long sigh and you soften.
you let the moment linger, the silence unspooling around you like so many silken threads, feathering over the shape of you and him, bodies entwined, your breaths caught in tandem. you absently card your fingers through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and he makes that soft, low sound again.
you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you push against him, slipping off his lap onto the floor by his feet, pillowing your cheek on his thigh as you grin up at him.
"10 minutes."
namjoon lets out a choked, strangled noise as you press your mouth to his growing cock over his shorts.
you smirk, "maybe not even."
his fingers find their way to your hair and he gives your head a tiny, firm shake (you silently thank the gods that he can't see the way your thighs squeezed beneath the shadow of the desk).
"behave, baby, please."
you bite back a giggle, nosing into the growing bulge with an indulgent sigh. you've always loved this -- just this -- the slow, sensual, sweetness of it all. even with the sharp yellowjacket sting of desire prickling up your spine, his fingers tight in your hair, there's comfort caught in the negative spaces, in the way your palm rests against his thigh, in the way he whispers your name --
so much like a prayer, or a plea.
you tug at the waistband of his shorts (la summers have never been forgiving, even in the odd hours of the early morning) and find the fingers of his free hand already scrabbling there, pushing it down. you let yourself laugh this time, batting your lashes up at him even as he lets out a chuckle of his own, breathy and needy and warm.
"c'mon babe," he says, his voice crackling along the edges.
you glance up to catch his eyes, holding his gaze as you lean in to lick a slow strip along the underside of his cock. the sound he lets out is animal and deep.
you let out a small, pleased hum as you push up to swallow around his leaking tip, your mouth watering at the familiar taste of him -- salt and bitterness coating your tongue.
"shit -- ah -- fuck --"
you work him slow, your hand stroking along the base where you can't quite reach without bumping your head against the bottom of the table. namjoon laughs, pushing his chair back a few inches so you can crawl out from beneath it's shadow.
he strokes your hair with loving fingers, pressing his thumb to the bulge in your cheek as you take him into your mouth again, this time, pressing down till you feel him hit the back of your throat.
"sweet fuck -- baby --"
you smile to yourself, letting your spit run down the shaft, thumbing at the pulsing vein running up the underside. he loves it like this -- sloppy and slow, midnight and messy. the sleepy kind of urgency as he ruts up into the heat of your mouth, the way you always try to keep yourself from gagging, but you can't help the noises that spill from you anyway.
"could write some shit about this mouth," he murmurs, fingers sinking into your hair again, guiding you as you start to work along his cock in a steady rhythm. you'd like to think that if you didn't have your mouth full, literally, you might've had a good retort. but as is, you settle for deepthroating him again, long enough for him to fold over you, hissing out as his whole body convulses with the pleasure.
"gonna cum, babe -- fuck -- where -- where d'you want it?" he loosens his grip, giving you the option to pull back if you want to. you don't. instead, you suck in a deep breath and swallow him down again, drawing out a deep, guttural moan.
it doesn't take long after that, a few more pumps of your spit-slick fist, and he's spilling hot and needy into your mouth, the bitterness hitting the back of your tongue. you huff slightly, but when he pulls back to hand you a tissue, you stick out your tongue.
namjoon's eyebrows fly up; his dick gives a kick even as he tugs up the waistband of his shorts and boxers.
"i thought you didn't like swallowing?"
you roll your eyes.
"didn't feel like holding it in my mouth -- it tastes like cum for way longer if i do."
namjoon laughs as he helps you up, pulling you into his lap again and handing you a half-finished bottle of water. you make a show of gargling before swallowing, eliciting a soft laugh from your boyfriend.
"damn, i'm hungry," he says, after a second's pause, this words punctuated by a loud growl from his stomach. you dig your finger into one of his dimples, making a face.
"i told you -- you gotta eat!"
"yeah, yeah -- okay, lemme just finish this last bit --" he wheels the chair forward with you bracketted between his arms, reaching around you for the wide variety of dials and knobs.
"wanna hear?" he asks; you nod, even before he finishes asking, kicking your feet as he hits play. the beat is heavy, fresh, but not unfamiliar, the and the melody catchy, if a bit moody. you nod along, turning to grin at him over your shoulder.
"wow, this is nice."
"yeah? you think so?"
you lean back against him, feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest, faster than it's usual steady beat.
"i do. i really, really do."
"good... i'm glad -- and this is the bit i was working on --" he taps a button and the song breaks off. a tiny frown carves into his forehead as he puts on the headphones and starts fiddling with the dials again. you let him, taking the time to admire the planes and contours of his face, the sharp forward jut of his chin that tells you he's really thinking about something.
he pushes a thing here, twists another one there.
then, a smile breaks across his face as he starts to jive with whatever he's hearing in those massive headphones. you smile with him, happy to see him happy. when finally, he tugs them off, he leans forward to give you a kiss.
"wow, i really think i got it. i'll have yoongi listen to it tomorrow but... i think this is it!"
you laugh as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your chest.
"woohoo!!! one down, a hundred more to go, or something like that, right?"
you giggle as he nuzzles against your skin with a tired groan.
"c'mon, let's go home."
together, the pair of you slip out of the darkened studio, fingers laced, letting the quiet seep from the soundproof walls into your skin.
"you still gonna make me ramyeon when we get back?" he asks, pulling you into his side you reach for the car keys to the single bmw parked in the long-empty lot. you grin as you slide into the driver's seat and hit the ignition, namjoon buckling himself into the passenger's side.
"depends," you answer, "are you gonna finish what you started?" you let your gaze flick down to his lap, where the outline of his half-hard dick is clearly visible through his pants. he lets out a loud bark of laughter, reaching over to pat your thigh, leaving his hand there as you pull out of the parking lot.
"i did say i was hungry," he says, giving your thigh a teasing squeeze. you bite back a shiver, glancing in the rear view mirror. at this hour, even the notorious la traffic has slowed to a thin trickle, leaving the roads largely empty.
you floor the gas and the beamer shoots forward.
"then, yeah. i'll make as much ramyeon for you as you want."
SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)
WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink
RATINGS m (18+)
WC 9.5k
NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for… except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon…. as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don’t make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!
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