On behalf on a little Blue Jay, can I request Jay smut #10?
I can do that! I hope that little blue jay is doing okay. She is missed! 💕
Jay + finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them
Warnings: so much teasing, Jay is down horrendous, use of sex toys, fingering, eating pussy, masturbation (M)
Minors fuck off!!
********************
It's Jay's first time sleeping over at your apartment, and you're a little nervous.
The two of you have been dating for a few weeks, but you'd always ended up at his. Tonight, though, you'd invited him over to yours to watch a movie. When the credits started rolling, he'd turned to you and asked if you wanted him to go, in that quiet, gentlemanly way of his. Most people would describe Jay as funny and sharp, just as likely to make you laugh as cut you down. That's because he reserves his sweetness only for you.
"Stay," you'd replied simply, though your heart was pounding as you said it. He'd agreed to it with a kiss, cupping your cheek, and you'd fallen into him like you always do. Kissing on the couch leads to you on your back, squirming beneath him while he lays on top of you, fingering you open. When you're about to start begging for his cock, you urge him to sit up so you can take your clothes off.
He stands up. "Where do you keep your condoms?"
You gesture over the back of the couch at your bedroom. "Bedside dresser," you say, shimmying out of your pants. "Top drawer."
Jay strips off his shirt as he walks away, and you're so focused on the ripple of his bare back muscles that it hits you a few seconds too late what you said.
"NO WAIT - second drawer!!"
"Um, hello, what's this?" Jay calls out, and you cover your face with your hands, groaning at what you've done. When you open your eyes again, he's leaning in your bedroom doorway, down to only his boxer briefs, holding your bright pink rose toy, and grinning like the cat who's caught the mouse. "I didn't see the condoms but I found this."
"I said the wrong drawer." You lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, hoping your voice doesn't give away how flustered you feel. You've always envied others who are open about their sexuality and their desires. You've never been able to talk about these things for very long without feeling the urge to flee the conversation screaming.
And for some reason, the more you like a guy, the less you can talk about it. You get so shy, for no good reason.
Jay sits on the couch by your feet, and spins the little sex toy around in his hands. "What is this, a little speaker?"
You can only groan, throwing an arm over your eyes. Jay knows how shy you get. He loves it.
"You know what that is, stop playing."
Your boyfriend laughs, and you feel his hands on your ankles. He reclines back against the couch, sliding your legs over his lap, and taps the rose on your thigh so you'll look at him.
"Yeah, okay, I do." He rolls the edge of the toy down your leg while you watch raptly. "Never had the chance to use one before."
Your entire neck is on fire as you look away from his raised eyebrow. "Please put that back when you get a condom."
"I will, in a minute." He drags the toy back up to your thigh. "Would you do something for me first?"
You already know what question is coming, and this is your opportunity to dodge it.
You nod instead.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. "Will you show me how you use it?"
"Jay," you moan, overcome by the question, even though you'd predicted it. Doesn't make it any less sexy coming out of his mouth.
"Please, jagiya." Especially not when he asks in that hushed tone of voice.
You have to look at the ceiling again, but you hold out your hand. Once the toy is nestled snuggly between your folds, hugging your clit, you press the button to turn it on. The first vibrations punch the air from your lungs - of all your toys, this one's the most intense, and it takes you by surprise every time.
But you breath through it, and before long, you're lifting your hips, pressing yourself against the toy, so the vibrations will spread along your sensitive lips.
After a moment, you risk a glance at Jay. The sight of your boyfriend sitting transfixed by your movements, eyes glued to your cunt as you expertly move the toy, is only the more arousing when he slides his cock out of his boxer briefs, and begins to stroke himself.
You moan his name, and he looks up at you.
"Will you come like this?" he asks. "Can you?"
"I can, b-but I don't always." Sometimes it takes you a long time to come this way, especially if you're not focused. And right now, Jay jerking himself off to you is super distracting.
"What do you need?" His voice dips lower.
"A f-finger or something, inside." Sometimes it's your finger. Sometimes it's another toy. But that's a conversation that can wait for another day. You're already about to explode from a mix of shame and desire.
Jay grunts. "I got you."
"Oh!" You arch your back as his finger slips inside you. He hasn't let go of his cock, tugs on it harder as he starts to fingerfuck you, slow and steady. You beg for more, and he adds another.
Then he moves, leaning forward and lowering his face to your cunt. "Let me just..." He presses his tongue flat over your folds, then licks his way inside. You ride his tongue, gaping when he adds a finger back into the mix, and nearly lose your grasp on your toy. It shifts slightly, sucking on the edge of your clit, and your eyes roll back in your head.
"Oh, shit, oh, fuck!"
Jay moans his agreement into your clenching pussy. You coat your boyfriend with your release, grinding it out on his face. Drops of cum splatter your legs as he finds his own climax.
Post-orgasm is when the nervousness fades. It's helped by the way Jay takes care of you afterward, cleaning you up, and then cuddling you until you're putty in his hands again. This was likely just the first round tonight, a point emphasized when your boyfriend, spooning you on the couch, whispers -
words FAIL ME right now bc this caused the NASTIEST mess on my emotions OH my god please sunny bare with me my excuse of a brain will try to formulate some kind of response for this fucking masterpiece. 😫💘
When i tell you i spent the first 10minutes RE-READING the first paragraph!!! Bc YES that’s exactly how i picture Jay, all soft spoken and polite and sO FUcking sweet only for his girl!!!!!! The kiss while cupping her cheek 😫😫💗💞💕💖💘 I WAS SO GIDDY IN MY ROOM FOR THIS JAY!!!!!!!! kicking my feet crying biting my fist type shit IM SO SERIOUS
‼️🚨PLEASE SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE “squirming beneath him while he lays on top of you, fingering you open” JAZ IS GOING TO PASS OUT🚨🚨🚨🆘‼️
spacing out while watching his bare back is so realisjxhdksndksjsjs BC THIS MAN IS THEEEE FINEST MEAL 🔥 your mind, i love it😭😭‼️‼️‼️
"Um, hello, what's this?"he's leaning in your bedroom doorway, down to only his boxer briefs, holding your bright pink rose toy, and grinning like the cat who's caught the mouse. "What is this, a little speaker?" OH MY GOD HE IS SO ANNOYING GO AWAYYYYYYYY (do not!!!!) this man loves to be a tease (both sexually and non-sexually) and no one can convince me otherwise!!!
"Will you show me how you use it?” "Please, jagiya."
i nearly diED !!! THE AMBULANCE!!!!!!!! WHERE IS ITTTTT🚨‼️🔥🔥🚨🔥🔥🆘😫😫
the “What do you need?” while touching himself?!?!?! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥MYYYY FUCKING MANNNNN service top at his finessssttt
And obviously he’s the sweetest with the aftercare as if he was not a fucking menace minutes before🙂🙂🙂 the whiplash 🤤🔥💘🦋🦋🦋
There is someone as feral for this man as me out there and i know this bc HOWWWW you literally went into my head and pulled this Jay from my deluluest fantasies and jfc iiiii am in love with this drabble. BEST thing i’ve read in a while i’m so serious. But who can be shocked? everything you write is pure perfection and it’s always a pleasure (literally 🙂)
Thank youuuu and @minttangerines for this incredible masterpiece 💘💘💘💘 the “this made my day” was never more accurate🥹 🫶🏼 this little bluejay is SO happy!!!
this jay is for me and me only! everyone else back off!!!!!!!!!!!
𝓦arnings :: excessive attachment, jealousy, soft obsession, “can’t be away from you” behavior
𝓐/n: I’m tired of searching for BTS stuff and only seeing Jungkook or the same repetitive things.
𝓦ords::6k
M.list / m.bts / TAGLIST
Amante Amado — Jorge Ben Jor
𝐫𝐦
he’s the type who pretends he’s perfectly fine, calm, mature, and completely in control… but he’s not. Not even close. Namjoon tries so hard to embody the image of the wise, level-headed leader who respects your space and independence. He quotes philosophy, talks about emotional intelligence, and gives everyone around him wise advice about balance. But when it comes to you, all that composure quietly crumbles. His clingy love is wrapped in intellectual excuses and gentle gestures, yet it runs so deep that he genuinely struggles to let you go, even for a few hours.
he starts the day sending casual texts that are anything but casual. “Did you get home safely?” at 11:47 pm even though he knows you left only forty minutes ago. “Have you eaten yet?” at lunch time with a follow-up heart emoji he deletes and re-adds three times before sending. “Are you tired?” at random hours, always with that soft concern hidden behind simple words. He tells himself he’s just checking in like a good friend would, but the truth is he feels unsettled the moment your presence isn’t near him.
when you take longer than usual to reply, his mind spirals. He sits in his studio surrounded by books and half-written lyrics, phone in hand, refreshing the chat every thirty seconds. “Maybe she’s busy. Maybe she’s driving. Maybe something happened…” He tries to focus on work, opening his laptop only to stare at the same paragraph for twenty minutes. The more minutes that pass, the more he overthinks — imagining worst-case scenarios while reminding himself he’s being ridiculous. When your reply finally comes, the relief on his face is instant, shoulders dropping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
if you disappear for several hours — maybe a busy day with friends or work that keeps you offline — he becomes completely unfocused. He paces around the apartment, picking up a book only to set it down after two pages, rearranging plants that don’t need rearranging, standing at the window staring at nothing. The members notice immediately. “Hyung, you’ve walked past the same spot six times,” Jungkook teases. Namjoon just laughs it off with that deep, dimpled smile and says “Just thinking about lyrics,” but his eyes keep drifting to his phone screen.
he loves pulling you close by the waist without even realizing he’s doing it. You’ll be standing in the kitchen talking about your day and his arm naturally slides around you, large hand resting possessively on your waist, thumb drawing slow circles. He does it while reaching for something in the cabinet, while listening to you tell a story, while waiting for coffee to brew. It’s instinctive. When you point it out with a smile, he blinks, looks down at his own hand like it betrayed him, and mutters “Ah… sorry. Habit.” But he doesn’t remove it. Instead, he pulls you a little closer, chin resting on your shoulder as he breathes you in.
“I know how to give you space… but I don’t want to.” That’s the quiet war inside his head every single day. He wants to be the mature partner who encourages your independence, your dreams, your alone time. He genuinely believes in it. Yet every fiber of his being aches to keep you close. So he finds excuses: “The new exhibition looks interesting, want to go together?” “I made too much dinner again, come eat with me?” “The weather is nice for a walk… if you’re free.”
in public he tries to be subtle, but his clinginess slips through. At events or dinners with the group, his hand always finds yours under the table. Fingers intertwined, thumb stroking your skin like it calms him. If you sit across from him, his leg presses against yours, anchoring him. When you laugh at something someone else said, his gaze softens and he reaches over to tuck your hair behind your ear without thinking, only realizing how intimate it looks when the others smirk.
at night it gets worse. After long days, he texts you voice notes instead of typing — that deep, soothing voice slightly hesitant: “I hope you’re resting well. Let me know when you wake up, okay?” If you’re together, he becomes the ultimate cuddler. He pulls you into his chest, arms wrapped securely around you, legs tangled with yours. “Just five more minutes,” he whispers when you try to get up, even though it’s been thirty. His chin rests on top of your head, one hand gently rubbing your back in slow patterns while he talks about deep topics — the universe, feelings, the future — all while holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.
he remembers every tiny detail and uses them to stay close. Your favorite tea is always stocked at his place. He downloads the book you mentioned wanting to read so you can discuss it together. He learns your schedule by heart so he can “coincidentally” be free when you are. All under the guise of being thoughtful, when really it’s his way of weaving himself deeper into your life.
when you’re away for work or travel, he sends photos of things that remind him of you — a cloudy sky that looks like the one you watched together, a street musician playing a song you like, a book quote he thinks you’d appreciate. Each message ends with “miss talking to you” or “can’t wait to hear your voice,” always trying to sound light but carrying the weight of how much he truly misses you.
he gets shy about his own clinginess. Sometimes he catches himself staring at you for too long and quickly looks away, dimples appearing as he smiles sheepishly. “What? I was just thinking,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. But the way his eyes follow you around the room tells a different story. He’s completely captivated.
Namjoon’s clingy love is quiet, intellectual, and overwhelmingly tender. He can talk for hours about giving people freedom and healthy attachment, yet with you he becomes the man who hates every second you’re not beside him. He pulls you close by the waist, sends caring texts, overthinks your silence, and holds you like the world outside doesn’t exist when you’re in his arms.
Because even though he pretends to be the calm, mature one… he really, really doesn’t want to let you go. And every gentle action, every worried message, every lingering touch proves that his heart has already decided: you’re his favorite place in the entire universe, and he wants to stay there as long as you’ll let him.
————
𝐣𝐢𝐧
he is clingy in the most dramatically adorable way possible, turning every little moment of separation into a full theatrical performance that somehow melts your heart instead of annoying you. Seokjin doesn’t just want your attention — he needs it like oxygen, and he’s not afraid to be extra about it. He complains constantly that you don’t give him enough love, even though he’s the one blowing up your phone and showing up unannounced like a lovesick prince who can’t survive without his favorite person.
“Baby, you haven’t looked at me in ten whole minutes,” he whines dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside you with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead like he’s fainting. “I’m dying here. Actually dying. Is your phone more interesting than Worldwide Handsome? Be honest.” He says it with that signature pout, lips pushed forward, eyes wide and sparkling with mischief, but underneath it all there’s real longing. He craves your eyes on him, only him.
when you take more than five minutes to reply to his texts, he sends the most extra selfies. A photo of him making the biggest, saddest bico (pout) imaginable, maybe with a hand on his chest like his heart is breaking. “I’ve been waiting for 7 minutes and 42 seconds… are you ignoring me now? After everything we’ve been through?” The next message is usually a voice note in his dramatic voice: “Jin is very sad right now. Jin needs attention. Please come save Jin.” He knows it’s ridiculous. He does it anyway because your laugh when you finally reply makes everything worth it.
he appears out of nowhere just because he misses you. You’ll be in your room working, focused on something, when the door slowly opens and there he is, leaning against the frame with a dramatic sigh. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt this… emptiness. Like part of my soul was missing.” He walks over, wraps his arms around you from behind and buries his face in your neck. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me? Say it. Say it like you mean it.” Even if you saw each other two hours ago.
he makes full-blown drama about everything. “You like your laptop more than me. I can see it in your eyes,” he declares while dramatically throwing himself across your bed. “I cooked your favorite meal, I sent you memes, I even did the aegyo you like… and still you choose the screen over me? This is betrayal. Pure betrayal.” But the second you look at him and give him attention, his whole face lights up, dimples deep and eyes turning into happy crescents as he pulls you into his arms.
his clinginess is loud, proud, and impossibly cute. In the dorm, he’ll sit right next to you on the couch, thigh pressed against yours, arm around your shoulders, playing with your hair while complaining, “The members get more of your laughs than I do. This is unfair. I’m the funniest one here.” If someone else talks to you for too long, he starts fake-crying. “She’s forgetting me… my girlfriend is leaving me for Jungkook’s bunny smile. I should just go eat alone and cry into my ramyeon.”
he constantly pulls you into his lap, no matter where you are. “Come here, I need my daily dose of you,” he says, grabbing your waist and settling you against his chest. Once you’re there, he wraps his arms around you tightly and sighs happily, resting his chin on your shoulder. If you try to get up, he whines loudly, “Nooo, five more minutes! I’m recharging. You’re my charger.”
when you’re busy with work or studying, he sits nearby doing his own thing… but not really. Every few minutes he glances over, sighs loudly, and says things like “I’m dying of loneliness over here” or “My handsome face is going to waste because no one is looking at it.” He sends you selfies from two meters away. Selfies with captions like “Notice me senpai~” or “Your boyfriend is feeling neglected.”
at night he becomes even more dramatic. He pulls you close under the blankets, legs tangled with yours, arms locked around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear while he sleeps. “Don’t leave me even in your dreams, okay?” he whispers, pressing soft kisses all over your face. If you move even slightly, he wakes up immediately. “Where are you going? The bed is cold now. Come back and love me.”
he’s the king of guilt-tripping in the cutest way. “I made you lunch and you didn’t even send me a heart emoji… I see how it is.” Or “You replied to the group chat faster than to me. I’m going to cry. Actually, I’m already crying. Look at these tears.” (There are no tears, just the biggest pout you’ve ever seen.)
but underneath all the drama and loud complaints is the softest, most sincere love. When he says “Look at me. Only at me,” it’s because you’re his favorite person in the world and he genuinely feels happier, brighter, and more complete when your attention is on him. He shows up unannounced because being away from you for too long feels wrong. He sends pouty photos because making you smile is his favorite thing. He clings to you so tightly because he nevebr wants to let go.
Seokjin’s clingy love is loud, theatrical, and overflowing with affection. He may complain that you don’t give him enough attention, but he’s the one who keeps coming back for more, again and again, with dramatic sighs, adorable pouts, surprise visits, and endless “I missed you”
Because in his world, there’s nothing better than having your eyes on him, your arms around him, and your laughter filling the space between his silly complaints. And he’ll keep being the most dramatically clingy boyfriend in the world… as long as you keep looking at him like he’s your whole universe too.
————
𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚
he’s clingy in the most silent, heavy, and intense way possible. Yoongi doesn’t need many words — his love shows up in quiet presence, heavy stares, and an almost gravitational pull toward you. He pretends to be indifferent, the cool, low-energy genius who doesn’t need anyone too close. But with you, that facade is paper-thin. He hates being away from you, even when he acts like he doesn’t care. His clinginess is quiet, but it runs deep, like a current you can feel under still water.
he watches you all the time. Not in an obvious, dramatic way — just constant, quiet observation. In the studio, while he’s working on a beat, his eyes drift to you every few minutes. When you’re in the same room, he tracks your movements without saying anything. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear, how you bite your lip when focused, the small sigh you make when you’re tired. He notices everything. Sometimes you catch him staring and he just looks away slowly, like it’s no big deal, but the intensity in his gaze lingers.
he leans on you like it’s automatic, like his body needs yours to stay grounded. On the couch, his shoulder presses against yours. In the car, his hand rests on your thigh without thinking. When you’re standing together, he leans his head lightly against your arm or back, breathing quietly like your presence alone recharges him. He never asks for permission — it just happens. If you move even slightly, he follows without a word, seeking that contact again.
if you leave his side, he becomes too quiet. The moment you get up to grab water or go to another room, the energy in the space shifts. He doesn’t complain or call after you. He just goes completely silent. Headphones on, staring at his screen, but not really working. The members notice how his typing slows down or how he keeps glancing toward the door. When you come back, he doesn’t say anything, but his body relaxes instantly and he pulls you back close again — a hand reaching for yours, an arm around your waist, a soft sigh of relief only you can hear.
his messages are short and dry, but heavy with worry. “Where are you?” at 9:47 pm when you’re out later than usual. “You okay?” when you haven’t replied in a while. No emojis, no long paragraphs. Just those few words that carry everything he doesn’t say out loud. If you take too long to answer, he doesn’t spam you — he just gets quieter in person later, pulling you into his lap or against his chest like he needs to reassure himself you’re really there.
he pretends he doesn’t mind the distance, but he hates it. “Go ahead, I’m fine,” he says in that low, raspy voice when you mention going out with friends or having a busy day. He acts unbothered, maybe even gives you a small smirk. But the second you’re gone, the studio feels too big, the bed too empty, and his thoughts keep circling back to you. He works more intensely when you’re not around, like he’s trying to fill the space you left, but it never quite works.
he shows his clinginess through small, heavy actions. When you sit together, he pulls your legs over his lap without asking. At night, he wraps himself around you completely — chest pressed to your back, arm locked around your waist, face buried in your neck. He holds you like he’s afraid the night might take you away. If you try to move, his grip tightens just a little, followed by a sleepy mumble: “Stay.”
in public, his clinginess is more subtle but still intense. His hand finds yours in crowded places, fingers laced tightly. At events, he stays close, shoulder brushing yours, eyes scanning the room but always returning to you. He doesn’t say much, but the way he positions himself between you and the crowd speaks volumes.
he gets especially quiet and intense when he’s missed you. After long schedules or days apart, he doesn’t run to you with dramatic hugs. He just appears beside you, pulls you close, and stays there. No big words. Just his warmth, his steady breathing, and that heavy, comforting presence that says everything. Sometimes he’ll rest his forehead against yours and close his eyes, like he’s soaking you in.
That’s his vibe in its purest form. He doesn’t need to explain how much he needs you. He shows it by being there — always watching, always touching, always pulling you back into his orbit the moment there’s any distance. His love is silent but incredibly heavy, the kind that wraps around you and doesn’t let go.
Yoongi may act like he’s fine on his own, like the independent, cool Agust D who doesn’t get attached. But with you, he becomes someone who quietly hates every second you’re not beside him. He observes you like you’re his favorite melody, leans into you like you’re his safe place, and holds you like he never wants to let go.
Because even in complete silence, his clingy, intense love is loud in every small touch, every quiet stare, and every dry message that really means “I need you here with me.” And he’ll keep being that silently clingy version of himself — as long as you let him stay close.
————
𝐣-𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞
he is clingy in the most energetic, bright, and almost desperate way possible — like his love for you is a sun that never stops shining and refuses to let even a single cloud come between you two. Hoseok’s affection is loud, warm, and overflowing with energy. He doesn’t just want you close… he needs you close, like you’re the main source of his sunshine. And when you’re not around, everyone can tell — his usual bright aura dims, his smile becomes a little smaller, and the dance studio feels strangely quieter.
he calls you all the time, inventing the smallest excuses just to hear your voice or see your face. “Jagiya, come here really quick! I need your opinion on this new choreography,”excessive attachment, jealousy, soft obsession,he says excitedly on the phone, even though he already knows what he wants to do. You show up thinking it’ll be fifteen minutes… and suddenly three hours have passed. He pulls you into the practice room, plays the song, dances while holding your hands, laughs loudly, and keeps finding new reasons to make you stay. “Wait, wait — now tell me if this part looks better like this or like that.” Anything to keep you there a little longer.
when you’re not near him, he loses his energy. The usually hyper, sunshine Hoseok becomes quieter, less talkative, his movements slower. The members notice immediately. “Hyung, you’ve been staring at your phone for twenty minutes without moving,” Jimin teases. Hoseok just laughs softly and says “I’m fine,” but his leg keeps bouncing and he keeps checking the time, waiting for the moment he can call you again. Your presence is literally his battery — without it, the light dims.
he hugs you like he’s trying to keep you forever. His arms wrap around you tightly, almost desperately, squeezing you against his chest as if he could merge you two into one person. He lifts you off the ground sometimes, spinning you around while laughing brightly, then buries his face in your neck and holds you there for long seconds. “Don’t go yet,” he whispers against your skin, voice still cheerful but with a hint of real need. His hugs feel like safety, warmth, and a silent promise that he never wants to let go.
he smiles so much when you’re with him — that big, beautiful, eye-smiling smile that lights up entire rooms. He laughs at everything you say, even when it’s not that funny. He takes hundreds of photos of you (and selfies of both of you) because “I need to save this moment forever.” But the second you say you have to leave, that smile falters. It doesn’t disappear completely — he’s still Hoseok — but it becomes softer, a little sad, almost pleading. “Already? But we were having so much fun…”
That’s his mantra. He says it while holding your hand, while pulling you back to the couch, while hugging you at the door. Five more minutes turns into thirty. Thirty turns into an hour. He’ll follow you to the elevator, still holding your hand, still smiling but with those slightly sad eyes. “Just until the car arrives, okay? I’ll miss you too much.”
he gets adorably dramatic when you have to go. “My sunshine is leaving me… how am I supposed to dance now? How am I supposed to smile?” He pouts cutely, doing aegyo on purpose to make you stay longer, then laughs at himself and pulls you into another bone-crushing hug. When you finally leave, he stands at the window or door watching you go, waving enthusiastically until you’re out of sight. Then he sighs, the bright energy dropping again until the next time he can call you.
even at night his clinginess doesn’t stop. He video calls you before bed just to say goodnight, but the call lasts an hour because he keeps finding new topics. When you’re together, he cuddles impossibly close — legs tangled, arms locked around you, face pressed against your chest or neck. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?” he asks softly, even though he knows he’ll try to keep you awake as long as possible.
he’s desperate in the sweetest way. Desperate for your laugh, your touch, your attention. If you’re busy for a whole day, he sends messages every couple of hours: funny memes, videos of him dancing, voice notes saying “I miss my favorite person.” When you finally meet again, he runs to you, picks you up and spins you around, hugging you so tightly you can barely breathe. “Never leave me for that long again, okay? My heart gets sad.”
Hoseok’s clingy love is pure sunshine mixed with a deep, almost desperate need to keep you by his side. He may be the brightest member, the one who lifts everyone’s mood, but you are his personal source of light. Without you, the world feels a little less colorful. So he calls, he hugs, he smiles, he begs for “just a little more time” — because every second with you makes his heart feel full in a way nothing else can.
And even when he’s waving goodbye with that brave smile, you know he’s already counting the minutes until he can say "Come here quickly" again… because for J-Hope, “a little more” is never really enough when it comes to you. He wants all of your time, all of your presence, and all of your love — and he’ll give you every drop of his sunshine in return.
————
𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧
he’s clingy in the most emotional, intense, sweet, and almost dependent way imaginable. Jimin doesn’t just want to be close to you — he needs you like air. His love is soft on the surface but carries a deep emotional weight, like his heart is quietly terrified that one day you might slip away. He follows you around the house without even realizing he’s doing it, always a few steps behind, like a little puppy who can’t bear any distance between you two.
he touches you constantly, as if his body needs constant reassurance that you’re real and you’re his. His hand finds yours without thinking, fingers intertwining naturally. When you’re sitting together, his head rests on your shoulder, or his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer. Even when you’re cooking, he’ll come up behind you, chin on your shoulder, arms around your middle, swaying gently while humming. It’s never overwhelming, just constant, warm, and full of quiet affection. If there’s any space between you, he closes it immediately, like it physically hurts him.
he follows you everywhere. You get up to grab a glass of water? He’s right behind you. You go to the bedroom to change? He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with those big, sparkling eyes. “I just wanted to be with you,” he says softly when you notice, smiling like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He doesn’t even realize how attached he is — it’s pure instinct.
he gets incredibly needy when you talk to other people. If you’re laughing with one of the members or giving attention to someone else, Jimin becomes quiet, a little pout forming on his lips. He doesn’t interrupt, but he’ll move closer, resting his head on your arm or slipping his hand into yours, silently asking for your focus again. Later, when you’re alone, he’ll use that soft, tiny voice: "Are you mad at me?" even when you’re not. He asks it so cutely, eyes wide and slightly anxious, because the thought of you being upset with him breaks his heart a little.
his emotional side comes out strongly at night. Jimin loves sleeping close to you — extremely close. He curls up against your body like he was made to fit there perfectly. Legs tangled with yours, chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, face buried in your neck. He falls asleep breathing you in, but even in his sleep his grip doesn’t loosen. If you move even a little, he wakes up halfway, mumbling sleepily “Don’t go… stay with me” and pulls you back tighter. He needs the warmth, the closeness, the feeling of your heartbeat against him.
when you have to leave, even for a few hours, his clinginess becomes more obvious. He holds you at the door for longer than necessary, face hidden in your neck, squeezing you like he’s trying to memorize how you feel. “Just five more minutes…” he whispers, even though you both know it’ll turn into ten, fifteen. When you finally pull away, he stands there watching you go with that beautiful but slightly sad smile, waving until you disappear. Then he sighs, already counting the minutes until you come back.
he sends the softest messages when you’re apart. Voice notes in that gentle, sweet tone: “I miss you already… when are you coming back?” or “Can you send me a photo? I want to see your face.” If you take a while to reply, he doesn’t get dramatic — he just gets quieter, a little more emotional, waiting patiently but with his heart feeling heavy.
he’s intensely dependent on your affection. A single hug from you can fix his whole day. When he’s tired after practice, he seeks you out immediately, melting into your arms with a soft sigh of relief. “You make everything better,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and full of feeling. He looks at you like you hold his entire world in your hands, because in his heart, you really do.
sometimes his clinginess makes him vulnerable. He’ll look at you with those expressive eyes and say quietly, “I know I’m a lot sometimes… but I can’t help it. When you’re not here, it feels like something is missing.” He gets shy after admitting it, hiding his face in your chest, but the honesty is so pure and raw that it makes you fall for him even harder.
That’s exactly how he feels. Every time you leave, it’s like you’re taking a piece of him with you. So he clings — emotionally, physically, desperately but sweetly. He follows you, touches you, needs you, loves you with every fiber of his being in the most tender and intense way.
Jimin’s clingy love is like a warm blanket you never want to take off. Soft, emotional, and so full of devotion that it wraps around your heart and refuses to let go. He may be the sweetest, most affectionate person in the world, but with you he becomes even softer — a man who just wants to stay close, stay loved, and stay yours forever.
Because for him, the best place in the world is right beside you, touching you, breathing the same air as you. And he’ll keep following you, holding you, and whispering “don’t go” with that beautiful, loving gaze… for as long as you’ll let him.
————
𝐯
he’s clingy in the strangest, most artistic, and breathtakingly beautiful way possible. Taehyung doesn’t love you in ordinary ways. His affection is poetic, surreal, and deeply intense — like he sees the entire universe inside you and wants to capture every second of your existence. He doesn’t just want you close… he wants to experience you, observe you, turn moments with you into living art. His clinginess is quiet, unexpected, and full of wonder.
he looks at you like you’re his greatest masterpiece. Those deep, expressive eyes stay on you for long moments, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of your face, every shade in your eyes, every small movement of your lips. Sometimes you catch him staring and he doesn’t look away. He just tilts his head slightly, a soft, dreamy smile forming, like he’s seeing colors and light no one else can. “You’re so beautiful… like a painting that moves,” he whispers once, voice low and sincere, before going quiet again, still watching.
he takes secret photos of you all the time. Not in a creepy way — in a reverent, artistic way. You’ll be reading a book, looking out the window, or simply laughing at something and he’ll quietly raise his phone, capturing the moment like it’s sacred. Later, you find them in his gallery: candid shots with golden hour lighting, black and white filters, or edited with his own drawings and notes in the corners. “I couldn’t help it,” he says softly when you discover them. “You looked like poetry.”
he holds your hand without any warning. In the middle of walking, while you’re cooking, even when you’re both scrolling on your phones — his long fingers suddenly slide between yours, gripping gently but firmly, like he needs the connection to stay grounded in reality. Sometimes he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles while looking at you, saying nothing. Other times he just holds it against his chest so you can feel his heartbeat, steady and warm.
he keeps calling you for the most random, whimsical things just to keep you near. “Jagiya, come here for a second. I need your opinion on this cloud,” he says, pulling you to the window. Or “Let’s listen to this song together right now — I think it was written for your eyes.” What starts as “five minutes” becomes hours of him playing piano for you, showing you his new drawings, or lying on the floor together staring at the ceiling while he talks about dreams and galaxies. He always finds new excuses. He needs your presence like an artist needs his muse.
sometimes he becomes completely quiet, just watching you breathe. He’ll lie beside you in bed, propped up on one elbow, eyes tracing the rise and fall of your chest, the way your eyelashes flutter, the peace on your face. No words. Just pure, intense observation. If you ask what he’s doing, he answers in that deep, velvet voice: “I’m studying you. I want to remember how life looks when it’s inside you.” Then he leans in and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he’s sealing the moment forever.
his clinginess is artistic and unpredictable. He’ll suddenly pull you into his lap while he’s painting, resting his chin on your shoulder so he can work with you close. He takes you on spontaneous midnight drives just to watch the city lights reflect in your eyes. He writes your name in the condensation on the bathroom mirror after you shower. He collects small things that remind him of you — a flower petal, a ticket stub, a strand of your hair he keeps between pages of his favorite book.
when you have to leave, even for a short time, his artistic soul feels the absence deeply. He doesn’t whine loudly like Jin. Instead, he gets softer, more melancholic. He hugs you at the door for a long time, arms wrapped around you, breathing you in like he’s trying to store your scent for later. “Come back soon,” he murmurs against your hair. “The colors feel wrong when you’re gone.”
he sends you the most beautiful, random messages. Photos of sunsets with captions like “This reminded me of the way you smile.” Voice notes of him humming songs he wrote thinking about your hands. Sometimes he just sends a single heart emoji at 3 a.m. because he woke up and missed the sound of your breathing beside him.
he’s emotionally and artistically dependent on your presence. You are his favorite color, his favorite melody, his favorite form of art. When you’re together, the world feels more vivid to him. He becomes more inspired, more alive. And when you’re apart, he carries pieces of you in his art, in his thoughts, in the way he touches everything with the same gentleness he touches you.
That’s exactly how Taehyung loves you. Not casually. Not simply. He loves you like an artist loves his eternal muse — with quiet intensity, with stolen photographs, with long silences filled with admiration, with sudden hand-holding and random invitations to exist together. He doesn’t just cling to your body. He clings to your soul, to your light, to every small detail that makes you who you are.
Because to Kim Taehyung, you aren’t just the person he loves.
You are living art.
You are poetry in human form.
And he will keep observing, capturing, and holding onto you in the most beautiful, strange, and devoted way possible — for as long as you let him stay by your side, quietly creating masterpieces out of every shared breath.
————
𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤
he’s clingy in the most intense, competitive, and protective way possible. Jungkook doesn’t do anything halfway — especially not when it comes to you. You are his favorite person, his favorite routine, his safe place, and he wants to be part of every single second of your day. He tries to play it cool, calling it “just looking out for you,” but everyone can see it’s pure, deep, unstoppable clinginess mixed with that golden maknae competitiveness and his strong instinct to protect what he loves.
he wants to be near you all the time. Literally always. If you’re in the living room, he’s there. If you move to the kitchen, he follows two steps behind like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You’ll be brushing your teeth and suddenly see him leaning against the bathroom door, arms crossed, watching you with that soft but intense gaze. “What? I was just passing by,” he says with a shy smile, but he stays right there until you’re done. He follows you around the house so naturally that it feels like you two are magnetically connected.
he touches you constantly. His hand finds your waist when you’re standing, pulling you gently against his side. His shoulder brushes yours when you walk together. He rests his chin on top of your head when you’re cooking, arms wrapped around you from behind. Even when you’re sitting on the couch, his leg is pressed against yours, or his fingers are playing with the hem of your shirt. The touches are warm, firm, and almost possessive — like he needs the physical reminder that you’re really there with him.
he gets adorably sulky when you give attention to others. It’s subtle at first — a small pout, a little frown, his bunny teeth disappearing as his lips press together. If you’re laughing with Jimin or talking too long with Taehyung, Jungkook suddenly becomes extra competitive. He’ll start showing off: doing push-ups in the living room, singing loudly, or coming over and wrapping his arms around you from behind while saying casually, “Baby, come help me with something.” He doesn’t get angry, but that little jealous pout appears and only goes away when you give him your full attention again.
he’s extremely protective, even in small things. “Wear this hoodie, it’s colder today,” he says, already putting it over your shoulders. If you’re going out, he checks the weather, makes sure you ate, and texts you “let me know when you get there, okay?” He says it’s just him being responsible, but the truth is he worries the second you’re not under his watch. When you’re together in public, he walks on the side closer to the street, keeps a hand on your lower back, and scans the surroundings like he’s ready to fight anyone who looks at you the wrong way.
"I'm just looking out for you," he repeats often, with that sincere, slightly shy look. But you both know it’s more than that. It’s carência. It’s the way his chest feels lighter when you’re close. It’s how he sleeps best when you’re curled up against him, his arm locked around your waist like an anchor. At night he pulls you as close as physically possible, chest pressed to your back, nose buried in your hair, legs tangled with yours. If you try to move away even a little, he makes a small, sleepy sound and tightens his hold.
he turns everyday moments into his favorite routine. Morning workouts? He wants you there watching or working out with him. Gaming session? He pulls you onto his lap so you can play together. Cooking? He’s hugging you from behind the entire time. Even when he’s focused on his own projects — music, workouts, drawing — he keeps stealing glances at you and eventually gives up, coming over to rest his head on your lap or pull you into his arms. “I work better when you’re near,” he admits quietly.
his competitiveness shows even in his clinginess. If one of the members hugs you for too long, Jungkook is suddenly there, lifting you up in his strong arms and carrying you away while laughing. “My turn,” he says playfully, but there’s a real edge of “she’s mine” in his eyes. He loves winning your attention, your laughs, your time. He wants to be your favorite person just as much as you are his.
when you have to leave, even for a few hours, he becomes extra intense. He walks you to the door, hugs you tightly, buries his face in your neck and sighs deeply. “Come back soon, okay? The house feels empty without you.” He texts you throughout the day — not too much, but enough. Photos of his food, videos of him working out, random “I miss you” messages with that cute pout selfie. When you finally return, he lights up completely, picking you up and spinning you around before carrying you straight to the couch to cuddle.
he’s intense about the little things too. He remembers exactly how you like your coffee, what makes you laugh the most, which side of the bed you prefer. He competes with himself to be better for you every day — stronger, sweeter, more present. Because to Jungkook, loving you is a full-time commitment, and he throws his whole heart into it.
"You are my favorite routine."
That’s the deepest truth. His days feel better when they start and end with you. He loves the ordinary moments — brushing teeth together, sharing snacks, quiet evenings where he can hold you close while playing games. You’re not just someone he loves. You’re his peace, his motivation, his favorite part of every single day.
Jungkook’s clingy love is intense, protective, and beautifully devoted. He follows you, touches you, watches over you, and gets a little sulky when your attention strays because you’ve become the center of his world. He may say he’s “just taking care of you,” but the way he holds you like you might disappear, the way his eyes soften when you’re near, and the way he smiles the brightest when you’re in his arms… it all says the same thing.
Synopsis: You knew the moment Niki texted you back at one in the morning to come pick up your stuff, that it would end up like this.
Genre: angst, psychological, smut (soft core)
Pairing: Niki x Reader
Warnings: toxic relationship, manipulative bf, emotional manipulation, mind games, power play, gaslighting, sex as a form of manipulation
Author’s notes: friends, trigger tf warning: Niki’s a mean, mean man in this fic. if you’ve dealt with and/or are dealing with a toxic partner and you’re still traumatized I probably wouldn’t read this. I wrote this and even I was a lil triggert. That said, happy gooning!
Word Count: 1.7k
MDNI 18+
You knew the moment Niki texted you back at one in the morning to come pick up your stuff, that it would end up like this. Not with dignity, not with closure, but like this—folded on his couch, legs on his shoulders, apologizing to him...again.
You're not even sure how it always happens.
You always show up to his place steeled and justifiably angry, then Niki stands too close, looking too good, smelling even better, calling you baby in that low drag that fogs your brain and makes your heart stutter. Then, someway, somehow, Niki gets what he wants.
He always does.
Maybe it's the way he drops his voice an octave when he's 'explaining himself,' like he already knows you're going to concede.
Maybe it's the way he touches you, rubbing slow circles on your hips, coaxing you to believe the fight was an overreaction, the betrayal just a hiccup—something you're too strong, too smart to 'let ruin everything.'
Maybe it's the way your heart twists to believe him, telling yourself it's just a mistake, just a stepping stone, just one last time, and that if you let it go, things will be better. Stronger. Fixed.
Whatever it is, it works.
Because you always tell yourself you won't actually go inside. That you'll just grab your stuff at the door and leave. That you won't let him talk you onto your back, or your knees, or whatever position he's decided counts as an apology that night.
But you fail every time because Niki's persuasive, but only in the worst ways. Because this is the only way he knows how to apologize. Or the only way he's willing to anyway.
Niki knows you too well. He knows you don't actually want to leave; you just want him to give you a reason to stay. You want him to want you. To chase you. To choose you.
You want the illusion that he needs you. Proof that his cheating isn't a verdict on your worth but just another lapse in judgment, a stupid habit you're both supposed to outgrow together on the way to your imagined happily ever after.
And he uses that. He turns your need for reassurance into a leash, tugging only when you start drifting too far. He tosses you bits of remorse to reset your hope, trains you with just enough softness to make you stay.
Not because he means it, but because he's learned it's the simplest way to reel you back in every time.
It's almost effortless at this point. Sometimes Niki can't help but roll his eyes at how easily you let him back in. He never needs grand gestures or big declarations with you—just an opportunity, a few words, and a heated look, then you're right where he wants you, pliable and predictable as ever.
All he has to do is make sure he's showing enough skin when you come—a nice fitted tank that clings to every line of his abdomen, and those loose, grey sweatpants that leave nothing to the imagination—just enough to short circuit that little spark of resolve you try to walk in with.
And all he needs is a couple shots to drop his voice into that slow baritone you never think straight around. So when he steps close and asks where you want it—it's lazy and low enough to tilt your brain off its axis and make you wonder if he means his dick, his mouth, or that useless little box he set out as bait to get you here.
You don't know this, of course, but he never really unpacks the box. Not unless you're coming over. Then he'll spread things out just enough to seem settled. After you leave, it all goes right back in.
It makes it easier to keep track of and move all your shit once you're gone, so when other girls come over, no one accidentally finds anything to interrogate him about.
But it works well for nights like this too, when you show up all teary eyed and willing to be fooled. When he passes you the box, but still keeps a firm hold on it so you'll look at him all doe eyed and confused, already softening.
You do it every time. Right before you let him toss it aside and hug you...then kiss you...then lay you across whatever surface will let him make you forget that you ever called him a lying, cheating bastard.
He wasn't even really thinking about it the first time he tried to soothe you with sex. He panicked. You were crying, arguing, connecting one too many dots, and he needed that to stop.
He only apologized through it to kill two birds with one stone, so he wouldn't have to deliver some bullshit monologue later, once the post nut clarity kicked in and reminded him he honestly couldn't give less of a fuck if you wanted to dump him over another girl or not.
So when you start apologizing to him five minutes in—voice breaking, logic gone—he's genuinely surprised. Then later, impressed. Ever since then, he's kept the same method:
apologize just enough to keep you from leaving, and fuck you hard enough to keep you from thinking.
And it always works.
Because of that, Niki has a working theory that all girls' common sense is stored somewhere near their g-spots, and if you hit it just right, it scrambles their logic like an internal reset button.
He's convinced he's right—if you and that girl from his psychology class are anything to go by.
Sometimes Niki genuinely feels sorry for you.
Not in a remorseful way. Just in that pitying way he gets when you make things too easy. Sometimes, when you've cried yourself out in his arms, he wonders if he'd be this gullible if he were a girl; if softness would hit him as stupidly hard as it hits you.
But then he remembers he's not some love sick dummy with no boundaries and even lower self esteem.
Speaking of...
"Fuck you."
You say it through gritted teeth, eyes shut tight, as Niki pants above you, hips still rolling.
"I know..." he coos.
Your voice is raw, and your eyes are rimmed red from crying earlier, but he’s looking down at you with the softest, most effortless smile because he knows you don’t mean it. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you.
"You're an awful person," you choke, struggling to even breathe.
"I know..." he says, then he kisses the calf of the leg slung over his shoulder. "I know, baby."
He grinds into you hard, pushing until you’re pressed together pelvis to pelvis, until the angle steals your breath and has you clutching the armrest, gasping, “oh my god!”
Your other hand shoots to his hip for purchase. Niki swats it away gently before sliding a hand up to cradle your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours. He needs you overwhelmed—full of him—for what he’s about to say to actually land.
"Look at me,” he whispers softly, and your eyes snap open, meeting his gaze with that vulnerable expression Niki can't help but exploit. "I'm sorry, okay..."
He leans in and whispers it into your open mouth, warm and convincing, letting it slide down your throat and wrap around your heart. You nod against him and Niki has to bite back a laugh.
"You know I love you, right?" He asks, hips still rolling slowly.
You nod again, and this time he nods with you, practically controlling the movement.
"Good. Cause I do. So...fucking...much."
He punctuates each word with a slow, deep thrust, driving them in like nails so you'll never forget. So you'll never get them out. So even when he screws up again—which he will—you'll forgive him anyway, because he's lodged those words deep inside you, in a way only he can.
You moan in time with him, fingers clawing at the couch so hard it tears a little at the seam. You don't notice because your eyes are squeezed shut again, shutting out the world, shutting out reason. Exactly how Niki wants you.
Because this is when you're easiest to steer, when you're blind, off balance, and soft enough to mold.
Anything he says now will slip straight past your defenses and take root where it'll hurt to pull out later. So he goes for the jugular. He chooses the words he knows will linger long after he doesn't deserve them.
"Tell me you love me..."
And you do.
Of course you do. You don't just say it, you choke on it. The words spill out of you in that soft, eager way he's come to expect: automatic, unguarded, and mindless.
He picks up the pace just enough to make your voice crack, pressing you to keep going. To say it again. And again. And again.
And you keep repeating it, louder and louder, until the words tumble out on their own, raw and frantic, stripped of every ounce of caution you walked in with.
Your hands find his face, shaky and searching for a reassurance he has no intention of giving. Instead, he leans in and kisses you, slow, deep, and dirty. Tongue laving over yours like he means every soft sound he pours into your mouth.
It's the kind of kiss that feels like safety to girls like you. Like something real. It unravels you. He's sure whatever hurt you came in with feels far away and half imagined by now.
By the time he pulls back, you're already whispering into his mouth, dazed and pliant:
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," you whimper. "I love you. I love you, I love you—"
That's all Niki needs to hear to wrap up the charade. He moves with a purpose now, fucking you hard and fast. Not because he's overwhelmed by the confession, but because he's accomplished his goal. He’s succeeded in talking—or rather fucking—you off the ledge once again.
You come like that. Hands wrapped around his biceps, mind wrapped around his finger, still whispering you love him, still clinging like any of this means something.
And Niki just watches, breathing hard, looking down at you with that familiar mix of pity and amusement—and he thinks to himself...
THIS MF IS A FUCKING MENACE ohhhhhhhh i wanted to punch him so bad BUT ALSO EXCUSE ME WHY MAKING HIM EXTRA HOT AUTOR?!?!!!!!
the white tank the gray sweats HIS PERFUME that low tone of his THE SLOW CIRCLES ON THE HIPSNSBDBFKSJS yeah y’all should go to jail. oh id let him cheat alr but NO bc wdym he keeps the box unpacked so thAT OTHER GIRLS WONT ASK QUESTIONSNDBDHSBDD and he tries not tO LAUGH MID-THRUSTBCJSBDNDNSKSJ I HATE HIM
author, this was so good❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥!!! thank you for this!!💜🫶🏼
YALL HEAR THAT! JAZ IS PIVOTING OVER TO BTS! JAY IS UP FOR GRABS!!!!
this is NOT true MY HUSBAND IS NOT “UP FOR GRABS” and please nobody here fight me for him bc I love everyone here and I can’t/won’t fight and I’ll probably be nice about it BUT YALL SHOULD KNOW IM CRAZY OVER HIM AND I WONT SHARE HIM NO
UGH you and your obsession with breaking us apart YOU WONT SUCCEED