you guys really liked the first twt link, so I made a pt.2 <3
cw: fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, masked men (ghostface), 'making a sex tape', dry humping, car sex, riding, angry sex
You knew the consequences of what would happened to you if you stepped out of place. Who can blame you? Maybe acting out of line will force him to treat you like the whorish little slut you are~
Just before he was about to leave he decided he needed to give you...a small reminder of him~
streaming was something you really liked doing on the weekends...you decided to bring a special guest for a special collab~
having a man is nice...but having a man who knows how to use his fingers to (actually) make you reach orgasm??? Thats a rare find...
You went to his house with the intention of watching movies. well...you did end up watching some random ass film-but 20 minutes in you guys decided to make your own homemade movie~
your boyfriend was such a gentleman-took you out to a nice restaurant, payed for dinner and treated you like a princess! You were spent, all you wanted to do was go in bed and stay up all night...lets just say the 2 of you were way too excited to wait~
live laugh fucking LOVE dry humping.
It doesn't take a lot for your boyfriend to get jealous. Today you found out that it's actually really fucking easy-laugh and playfully hit another guy and your bf will be FUMING.
──𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 :: when they’re secretly in love & get jealous
𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎::emotional tension, clingy behavior, silent jealousy,smut,dom x sub,
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀::11k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ╰ bts x reader
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✧ 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧
On the surface, Namjoon was the embodiment of calm control. The leader who carried the weight of the group with quiet strength, always composed, always measured in his words and actions.
But beneath that polished exterior, a fierce storm brewed whenever he had to watch you interact with anyone else. He was secretly in love, the kind of deep, unspoken affection that had been building for months behind closed doors and stolen moments.
You two had agreed to keep everything hidden—the pressures of idol life, the fans, the contracts—it all demanded secrecy. Yet that secrecy only sharpened the jealousy that clawed at him.
He sat in the corner of the spacious backstage waiting room, one leg crossed over the other, pretending to immerse himself in a thick philosophy book he'd carried from the hotel. The pages turned slowly under his long fingers, but his sharp eyes weren't absorbing the text.
Every sound from across the room pulled his focus: your soft laughter, the low murmur of the backup dancer's voice, the way the man leaned in just a fraction too close. Namjoon's chest tightened with that familiar burn.
He told himself to breathe, to stay rational. You weren't his in the eyes of the world. Not yet. But in his heart, you were already everything.
The dancer said something that made you laugh again, brighter this time. Namjoon's grip on the book pages tightened until the paper creased. He forced his expression to remain neutral, but inside, his mind raced with possessive thoughts. That smile belonged to him.
Those sparkling eyes when you were amused—they were for him during late-night conversations in hidden hotel rooms. Not for some guy who didn't know the way you sighed when his hands traced your spine.
Then it happened. The dancer reached out, his fingers brushing your arm in what was meant to be a casual gesture. But it lingered.
The touch dragged slowly, too familiar, too bold. Namjoon's jaw clenched hard, the muscle ticking visibly for a split second before he schooled his features. He closed the book with a deliberate snap, the sound cutting through the room like a quiet warning.
Rising to his full height, broad shoulders straight and presence commanding, he crossed the space in unhurried strides. The air seemed heavier as he approached.
"Are you done talking?" His voice was low, deep, and smooth like velvet over steel. It wasn't overtly rude—Namjoon was too intelligent for that—but the underlying edge of authority made the dancer straighten immediately.
The man mumbled something about checking on choreography and excused himself, retreating quickly under the weight of Namjoon's steady gaze.
You turned toward him, one eyebrow arched in that knowing way that always sent heat through his veins. A small, secret smile played on your lips.
Namjoon didn't speak further in front of the others. Instead, he placed a large, warm hand on the small of your back, the touch firm and guiding. It was possessive without being obvious to anyone watching.
He steered you out of the main room and down the quieter hallway toward his private dressing area.
The second the door clicked shut behind you, locking out the world, the composure cracked wide open.
Namjoon backed you against the wall in one fluid motion, his tall, muscular frame pressing flush against yours.
One hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up as his mouth claimed yours in a hungry, demanding kiss. His tongue swept in, tasting and dominating, pouring out all the jealousy he'd bottled up.
When he pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours, eyes dark and intense.
"You enjoy testing me like this, don't you?" he murmured, voice rough around the edges. His free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist hard enough to leave faint marks. "Letting him touch your arm, laugh with you, stand so close... knowing I'm right there watching every second."
You started to respond, but he silenced you with another deep kiss, teeth grazing your lower lip. His hands worked quickly but deliberately, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside.
His mouth trailed hot kisses down your neck, sucking at the sensitive spot just below your ear until you gasped. He marked you there, a subtle bruise that only the two of you would know about later.
"I hate it," he admitted between kisses, voice low and honest. "I hate pretending I don't feel anything when someone else gets even a piece of your attention. You're mine in every way that matters, even if we can't say it out loud yet."
He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his hips as he carried you to the wide couch against the far wall. Laying you down gently but with clear urgency, he hovered over you, stripping off his own shirt to reveal the defined lines of his chest and shoulders.
His skin was warm as he pressed down again, mouth exploring every inch of exposed skin. He took one nipple between his lips, sucking firmly while his fingers teased the other, rolling and pinching until you arched beneath him with a soft moan.
Lower still, he went, kissing down your stomach, nipping at your hips as he removed the rest of your clothes. When you were fully bare, he knelt between your spread thighs, eyes locked on yours with burning intensity.
"Look at me," he commanded softly. His tongue dragged slowly through your folds, savoring your taste with a deep groan that vibrated against you.
He took his time, licking and sucking with expert precision, two thick fingers sliding inside you and curling just right to hit that perfect spot.
Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, hips rolling against his face as pleasure built fast. Namjoon held you steady with one strong arm across your lower stomach, refusing to let you escape the overwhelming sensation.
He alternated between slow, teasing licks and intense suction on your clit, fingers pumping steadily until your thighs trembled around his head.
" Namjoon... please," you gasped, right on the edge.
But he pulled back at the last moment, lips glistening, a dark smile on his face. He stood, shedding the rest of his clothes to reveal his thick, hard cock already leaking with need. He stroked himself slowly, watching you writhe on the couch.
"Tell me who you belong to," he said, voice husky with restrained desire.
"I'm yours, Joon. Only yours."
He moved over you again, positioning himself at your entrance and pushing in with one long, deep thrust. The stretch was perfect, filling you completely.
He groaned your name, hips starting a slow, grinding rhythm that quickly built in intensity.
One hand pinned your wrists above your head, the other gripping your thigh to hold you open wider for him. Each thrust was deliberate, possessive, skin slapping against skin in the quiet room.
"You feel incredible," he breathed against your neck, biting down gently. "So tight, so wet for me. No one else will ever have this. No one else gets to hear the sounds you make when I'm inside you."
He angled his hips to hit that sensitive spot inside with every stroke, driving you higher. Your moans filled the space, mixing with his low grunts.
The jealousy fueled him, making his movements harder, deeper, more claiming. When your orgasm crashed over you, walls clenching tightly around him, he kept going through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were shaking.
Only then did he let himself go, thrusting deep one final time and spilling inside you with a guttural moan, his body shuddering against yours. For long moments afterward, he stayed buried deep, holding you close as your breathing slowed.
He eventually pulled out carefully, gathering you into his arms on the couch. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, the earlier storm of jealousy easing into tender affection. "I'm sorry for the intensity," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"I know we have to keep this secret for now. The timing isn't right, the world isn't ready. But seeing another man touch you, even innocently... it drives me insane. I just want you completely. Mind, body, everything."
You nestled closer against his chest, smiling as you felt his heartbeat under your cheek. "I love when you show me how much I mean to you. It makes me feel wanted in a way no one else ever has."
Namjoon chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine now. His hand slid down your body again, cupping your ass possessively. "Good. Because we're not done yet. I need to remind you a few more times before we have to go back out there."
He kissed you slowly this time, building things up again with patient touches and whispered praises. Round two was slower, more intimate—him taking you from behind while you gripped the back of the couch, his chest pressed to your back, one hand between your legs rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.
He murmured how perfect you were, how no one could ever compare, how he fell more in love every single day.
By the time you both finished again, the room felt warmer, heavier with the scent of sex and shared breaths.
Namjoon helped clean you up gently, then held you in his lap, stroking your hair as you talked quietly about nothing and everything. The jealousy hadn't vanished completely—it never did when love ran this deep and had to stay hidden—but it was soothed by the certainty of your connection.
He was calm again on the outside when you eventually returned to the others.
But now you carried his marks, his touch, his claim beneath your clothes. And that was enough for him, for now.
✧
✧ 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐣𝐢𝐧
Seokjin had always been the dramatic one, the member who could turn even the smallest inconvenience into a full theatrical performance.
But when it came to you, his secret love, that drama wasn’t just for show—it masked something much deeper. He was head over heels, the kind of love that kept him up at night thinking about your laugh, your voice, the way you looked at him when no one else was watching.
You two had agreed to keep it hidden for now, protecting the relationship from the intense spotlight of idol life. Still, every time someone else stole your attention, it hit him harder than he let on.
The backstage area buzzed with pre-concert energy. Staff members hurried around, stylists adjusted outfits, and the members stretched or reviewed last-minute details. Seokjin lounged against a table, flipping through his phone with practiced nonchalance, but his eyes kept drifting to you across the room.
You were chatting with one of the newer lighting technicians—a friendly, outgoing guy who had been making everyone laugh all week. The technician leaned in closer as he explained some technical detail, gesturing animatedly, and you smiled at him, nodding along.
Seokjin’s fingers paused on his screen. He forced a smile, but inside, irritation prickled. It’s just a conversation, he told himself. You’re allowed to talk to people.
Yet the way the guy’s hand brushed your shoulder lightly as he pointed something out on a tablet made Seokjin’s stomach twist. He cleared his throat loudly, but no one noticed. Fine. He could play this game.
“Wow, okayyyy, I see how it is,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to potentially hear if you were paying attention. You didn’t turn. The technician said something else, and you laughed again—that bright, genuine laugh that Seokjin usually earned with his dad jokes and cooking stories.
He pushed off the table, wandering closer under the pretense of grabbing a water bottle. “Guess I’m invisible now,” he added in a sing-song voice, dramatic and pouty, drawing a few amused glances from nearby staff. But his eyes stayed on you, sharp and needy.
Deep down, it wasn’t just theatrics. He genuinely felt the sting. He wanted your focus on him, your smiles directed at him, your time reserved for stolen moments in hotel rooms or quiet van rides where he could whisper how much he adored you.
The technician touched your arm again, this time resting his hand there a second too long while showing you a funny video on his phone. That was it.
Seokjin stepped forward with exaggerated flair, placing a hand on his chest like he’d been wounded. “Ah, I see the new lighting expert has taken over my role as the funniest person in the room. Should I just disappear into the background? Maybe become a stage prop?” His tone was light, teasing, but the undercurrent of real upset made his words sharper than usual.
The technician blinked, suddenly awkward, and pulled his hand back quickly.
You turned to Seokjin, catching the flash of genuine hurt behind his dramatic mask. The technician excused himself with a nervous chuckle, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
As soon as the two of you had a moment of semi-privacy near the edge of the room, Seokjin’s facade cracked further. He crossed his arms, lips pursed in that signature pout. “You like him more than me now? Be honest. I can take it. I’m just the handsome chef who makes you laugh and cooks your favorite meals at 2 a.m. No big deal.”
You rolled your eyes fondly, but before you could respond, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward his private dressing room down the hall, closing the door firmly behind you. The lock clicked, sealing you both away from prying eyes.
The moment the world was shut out, Seokjin’s dramatic complaints melted into raw emotion. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight back hug from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.
His breath was warm against your neck. “I hate this,” he whispered, voice dropping the playful tone. “I hate pretending I don’t care when someone else touches you or makes you laugh. I want all of it. Your attention, your time, your everything. It’s selfish, but I’m in love with you. Secretly, stupidly, completely.”
His hands roamed up your sides, pulling you closer against his chest. The clinginess kicked in hard—exactly as expected after his jealousy flared. He pressed a series of soft forehead kisses along your hairline, then turned you in his arms to face him. “You like me more, right? Tell me. I need to hear it.”
“Of course I do, Jin. Only you,” you reassured him, and that was all it took.
His mouth descended on yours in a kiss that started tender but quickly ignited with pent-up need. Seokjin kissed like he performed— with full commitment and flair.
His lips moved against yours hungrily, tongue teasing until you parted for him. He backed you toward the couch, never breaking contact, his large hands cupping your face as if you might vanish.
Clothes came off in a heated rush. He peeled your shirt away slowly, savoring the reveal of your skin, then shed his own to expose his broad shoulders and toned chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion and desire.
He laid you down on the couch, hovering over you, dropping more forehead kisses and soft ones along your collarbone. His hands explored everywhere—squeezing your waist, tracing your curves, gripping your thighs as he settled between them.
Seokjin took his time, despite the urgency of his jealousy. He kissed down your body, lingering at your breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his fingers played with the other. You arched into him, fingers threading through his dark hair.
Lower, he went, until his breath ghosted over your core. He looked up at you with those expressive eyes, still a hint of that dramatic pout lingering. “This is mine. Only mine.”
His tongue delved in, licking a slow stripe through your folds before focusing on your clit with precise, teasing circles. Two fingers slid inside you, curling expertly as he worked you open. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending sparks up your spine.
Seokjin ate you out with the same dedication he put into everything—thorough, passionate, a little extra. He brought you right to the edge, then eased back, kissing your inner thighs while you caught your breath.
“Not yet,” he said, climbing back up your body. “I want to be inside you when you come. I want to feel how much you want me.”
He positioned himself, rubbing the thick head of his cock against your entrance, slick with your arousal and his saliva. With a deep push, he entered you, both of you groaning at the perfect fit.
Seokjin’s hips rolled slowly at first, savoring the connection, but jealousy still simmered beneath the surface. His pace quickened, thrusts becoming deeper and more insistent.
“Tell me again,” he panted between kisses, pinning your hands above your head with one of his. “You like me more, right? Say it while I fuck you.”
“I like you more—fuck, Jin, so much more,” you moaned, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper.
That spurred him on. He released your hands to grip your hips, angling you so every thrust hit that sweet spot inside. The room filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your shared gasps, and his occasional dramatic whispers. “That’s right. No one else gets to make you feel like this. No technician, no staff, no one. Just me.”
He shifted positions, pulling you up so you straddled him on the couch. You rode him while he guided your movements with strong hands on your ass, thrusting up to meet you. His mouth latched onto your neck, sucking marks that would be hidden under your clothes later.
One hand slipped between you, thumb circling your clit in time with your bounces.
Pleasure coiled tight in your belly. Seokjin could feel you tightening around him. “Come for me, baby. Show me I’m the only one.”
Your orgasm hit hard, waves crashing through you as you clenched around his cock, crying out his name. Seokjin followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a long, satisfied groan.
His arms wrapped around you tightly in another back hug as you both came down, even while still connected.
For several minutes, he just held you like that, pressing forehead kisses to your temple, your cheeks, anywhere he could reach. The clinginess returned full force.
“I’m sorry for being dramatic out there,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck. “But I can’t help it. When I see someone else getting your smiles, it makes me realize how badly I want to tell the whole world you’re mine. Until then… stay close to me, okay? Lots of hugs like this. Lots of kisses. And always tell me I’m your favorite.”
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “You are my favorite, Jin. Dramatics and all.”
He smiled, genuine and warm now that the jealousy had been soothed by your touch. But he wasn’t done. After cleaning you both up gently, he pulled you back into his lap, hands wandering again. “Round two,” he announced with a playful wink. “I need more reassurance. And more of those sounds you make just for me.”
This time was slower, more intimate. He took you from behind while you leaned over the couch arm, his chest pressed to your back in a constant hug.
One arm wrapped around your waist, the other between your legs, rubbing you as he thrust steadily. He whispered praises and silly jokes mixed with love confessions, keeping things light even as pleasure built again.
By the end, you were both exhausted in the best way, tangled together on the couch with his arms securely around you. Seokjin’s dramatic jealousy had led to this—raw passion, tender aftercare, and a deeper bond strengthened in secret. He kissed your forehead one last time.
“Don’t forget who loves you most, even when I have to pretend I don’t in front of everyone else.”
The concert would start soon, and he’d be back to his charismatic, funny self on stage. But you would carry his touch, his words, and the quiet promise of more hidden moments like this.
✧
✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢
Yoongi didn’t need to raise his voice or put on a show for his jealousy to land like ice water down the spine. It was the silence that made it terrifying—the way his face stayed almost neutral, sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction, while the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
He was in love with you in the quietest, most consuming way possible. A love built on late-night studio sessions where words weren’t necessary, on shared headphones and fingers brushing under tables. You kept it secret because that was the only way it could survive right now. But secrets had a way of sharpening everything else, especially the possessiveness he rarely let show.
The green room hummed with the usual pre-show chaos. Staff adjusted mics, members chatted in low voices, and you stood near the couch talking to one of the tour photographers.
The guy was friendly, talented, and clearly interested. He leaned against the wall, camera slung around his neck, smiling as he showed you some shots from the previous night on his screen. “You always end up looking perfect in these,” he said, voice dropping a little. “The way the light hits you… I could shoot you for hours.”
You laughed politely, flipping through the images. Yoongi sat on the opposite couch, hood up, earbuds in but no music playing. His expression didn’t change. He looked half-asleep, legs stretched out, cap pulled low. But his gaze followed every movement.
The way the photographer stepped closer. The way his hand brushed your elbow to point at something on the screen. The way you smiled back—not flirtatious, but warm enough to twist something deep in Yoongi’s chest.
He didn’t speak. Not at first. His answers to the staff member asking about setlist changes became short, almost curt. “Yeah.” “Fine.” “Whatever works.” The calm shifted. People around him started glancing over, sensing the subtle change in the air without understanding why. Yoongi’s eyes stayed locked on you, dark and unreadable, tracking the photographer’s every gesture like a predator deciding exactly when to strike.
When the guy laughed at something you said and let his fingers linger on your arm, tracing a light path down to your wrist while complimenting your “natural presence,” Yoongi moved. No words.
No dramatic sigh. He simply stood, crossed the room in that slow, deliberate way of his, and slid an arm around your waist from behind. His hand settled firmly, fingers pressing into your side with quiet ownership. He pulled you back against his chest, chin brushing your shoulder for a brief second before he released you—but not really. His presence stayed right there, a wall of silent warning.
The photographer straightened immediately, mumbling something about checking equipment, and disappeared faster than expected. Yoongi didn’t smile. He didn’t gloat. He just looked at you once, eyes saying everything his mouth wouldn’t: We’re leaving. Now.
He guided you out with that same hand on your waist, touch deceptively light but impossible to ignore. Down the hallway to his private dressing room.
The door shut with a soft click. The lock turned. And then the real shift happened.
Yoongi leaned against the door for a moment, staring at you. Still silent. The jealousy didn’t explode out of him like it might with the others. It coiled, controlled, and burned hotter because of it. He crossed to you slowly, backing you against the makeup counter without touching you at first.
His hands finally came up, framing your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks with surprising gentleness before his grip tightened just enough.
“You let him touch you,” he said, voice low and rough, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a question. “Laughed with him. Let him look at you like that.”
His lips crashed into yours before you could answer—slow, deep, devastating. Yoongi kissed like he produced music: layered, intentional, every movement building something heavier. His tongue slid against yours, claiming, while one hand dropped to your waist again, pulling your hips flush against him.
You could feel how hard he already was, pressed against your stomach.
He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down your neck, sucking lightly at first, then harder, leaving marks that would hide under your collar. “Mine,” he breathed against your skin. No theatrics.
Just fact. His hands worked methodically, peeling your shirt off, then his own. The sight of his pale skin, slim but toned torso, and the faint lines of muscle made your breath catch. He lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your legs.
Yoongi’s possessiveness showed in the calmest, most intense ways. He didn’t rush. He unbuttoned your pants and dragged them down along with your underwear, eyes never leaving yours. When you were bare, he ran his palms up your thighs, spreading them wider.
Two fingers traced your entrance, feeling how wet you already were, before sliding in deep. He curled them slowly, perfectly, watching every flicker across your face.
“Eyes on me,” he murmured when your head tipped back. His free hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to his. Those dark eyes held you captive while his fingers pumped steadily, thumb circling your clit with maddening precision.
The room filled with the wet sounds of his hand and your growing moans, but Yoongi stayed mostly quiet, only letting out low, controlled breaths.
He brought you right to the edge, then withdrew his fingers, ignoring your frustrated whimper. He freed himself from his pants, thick and flushed, stroking once before pressing the head against you.
One smooth thrust and he buried himself to the hilt, groaning softly into your neck. The stretch was perfect, overwhelming.
His hips rolled in deep, measured strokes. Not frantic—deliberate. Each thrust claimed you, reminded you exactly who you belonged to. One arm wrapped around your back, holding you impossibly close, while the other braced on the counter. Skin met skin in rhythmic slaps, but his voice stayed low.
“No one else gets this,” he whispered against your ear, biting the lobe. “No one else hears you moan like this. No one else feels how tight you get when I’m inside you.” His pace increased gradually, still controlled, but the jealousy fueled every snap of his hips. He angled just right, hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes.
You clutched his shoulders, nails digging in. “Yoongi—”
“Say it,” he demanded quietly, voice dark. “Tell me who you belong to while I fuck you.”
“You. Only you.”
That seemed to break something in his restraint. He lifted you off the counter, turning you around and bending you over it. Your hands braced on the cool surface as he entered you again from behind, deeper this way.
One hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, the other reached around to rub your clit in tight circles. His chest pressed to your back, lips against your shoulder as he thrust harder, faster, but still terrifyingly silent except for the occasional low groan.
The orgasm built like a wave you couldn’t escape. When it crashed over you, your walls clenched around him, legs shaking. Yoongi followed moments later, burying himself deep and coming with a quiet, shuddering breath, filling you completely.
He stayed inside you for a long minute, arms wrapped around your waist, face pressed to your back.
Finally, he pulled out carefully, cleaning you both with a warm cloth from the side table. He didn’t speak much even then. Just pulled you into his arms on the small couch, holding you against his chest.
His fingers traced slow patterns on your bare skin—possessive, soothing. The silent jealousy had morphed into this: quiet intensity, the kind that wrapped around you like smoke.
“I hate it,” he said eventually, voice barely audible. “Seeing someone else flirt with you. Touch you. Makes me want to pull you away every single time. I know we can’t say anything yet. But you’re mine. In every way that matters.”
You turned in his arms, kissing his jaw. “I am yours, Yoongi. Always.”
He nodded once, eyes softening just a fraction. But the possessiveness lingered. His hand slid down to grip your thigh, pulling you closer. “Good. Because we still have time before soundcheck.”
His lips found yours again, slower this time, but no less hungry.
The second round was different—slower, face to face on the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved inside you with those same deep, claiming strokes. He kept his forehead against yours, eyes locked, forcing you to feel every emotion he rarely voiced.
When you came again, whispering his name like a prayer, he followed, spilling into you once more with a quiet curse.
Afterward, he held you tightly, pressing soft kisses to your temple. No dramatic declarations.
No over-the-top clinginess. Just Yoongi—silent, steady, and terrifyingly in love. The kind of love that didn’t need noise to be felt in your bones.
He helped you dress eventually, adjusting your clothes so the marks he left stayed hidden.
When you stepped back into the hallway, his expression had returned to that neutral calm. But his hand brushed your lower back one last time, a secret reminder.
The mood around him stayed shifted for the rest of the evening. Short answers. Watching eyes. And when anyone got too close to you again, that arm found your waist without a word.
Because Yoongi’s jealousy didn’t roar. It simply took what was his, quietly, completely, and left no room for doubt.
✧
✧ 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤
Hoseok was sunshine personified—bright smiles, infectious laughter, and that endless energy that lit up every room he entered. But when jealousy crept in, especially over you, the person he was secretly, deeply in love with, that sunshine didn’t disappear. It just burned hotter, more focused, until it consumed everything else.
He tried so hard to play it cool, to keep things light and fun like always, because that was his role. The one who kept morale high. The one who made everyone feel at ease. But with you, his ult, his hidden heart, the mask slipped faster than he could catch it.
The backstage lounge was alive with pre-rehearsal chatter. Members stretched, stylists touched up makeup, and you were standing near the snack table talking to one of the new choreographers—a charismatic guy who’d been brought in for a fresh routine. He was funny, confident, and clearly drawn to your energy. He demonstrated a quick footwork move, laughing as you tried to copy it, his hand lightly steadying your waist for balance.
“See? You’ve got natural rhythm,” he said, eyes lingering a second too long. “We should practice together sometime. I could teach you a lot.”
Hoseok, who had been sipping water across the room while chatting with staff, felt the shift instantly. He forced a wide smile, the one that usually lit up stages worldwide, and sauntered over with his signature playful bounce. “Yah, what’s this? Stealing my favorite dance partner?” he teased, voice bright and sing-song.
But the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. It tightened at the corners, turning a little sharp. His laugh when the choreographer joked back sounded forced, almost brittle.
He tried again, keeping it playful. “Careful, she might outshine you on stage if you teach her too well!” Another laugh, but it fell flat even to his own ears.
Deep down, it wasn’t funny. Not when this guy had his hand on your waist. Not when you were smiling at someone else the way Hoseok wanted you smiling at him in every stolen moment—those quiet van rides, late-night texts, and hidden hotel nights where he whispered how much he adored you. You were his secret, his everything, and watching someone else flirt so openly made his chest ache with a need he couldn’t voice publicly.
The choreographer chuckled and touched your arm again, leaning in to say something quieter. That was the breaking point. Hoseok’s playful facade crumbled in an instant. He moved smoothly but decisively, sliding right beside you. One arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side. His other hand found yours, fingers intertwining tightly.
He rested his chin on top of your head, nuzzling in just enough to make his claim crystal clear without words. The warmth of his body enveloped you, that familiar mix of cologne and stage energy that was so distinctly him.
“Actually,” Hoseok said, voice still light but edged with something deeper, “we have some partner work we need to go over. Right now.” His smile stayed plastered on for the choreographer, but his grip on you tightened. Everyone in the room could see it—you two were close. Very close.
The choreographer got the message, nodding awkwardly and stepping back with a quick excuse about checking the stage layout.
As soon as the guy was out of sight, Hoseok didn’t let go. If anything, he held you tighter. His arm around your shoulders became a full embrace, chin still on your head as he swayed you gently side to side like you were dancing to music only he could hear. “I hate that,” he murmured into your hair, voice dropping the playful tone. “I try to act cool, but seeing him touch you… it makes me want to pull you away and keep you all to myself. You’re my person. My favorite. I need everyone to know how close we are, even if we can’t tell them everything yet.”
He guided you down the hallway to his private dressing room, never once releasing your hand. The door closed behind you, and the lock clicked. In the quiet space, Hoseok’s energy shifted completely.
He turned to you, eyes soft but burning with that mix of love and jealousy. “You know you’re my ult, right? My everything. I can’t stand the thought of someone else thinking they can have even a piece of you.”
His hands cupped your face tenderly, thumbs brushing your cheeks, before he kissed you. It wasn’t rushed—it was deep, passionate, full of all the affection he poured into every performance. Hoseok kissed like he danced: with soul, with fire, with every part of himself.
His tongue moved against yours in perfect rhythm, drawing soft sounds from you that made him smile against your lips.
Clothes disappeared between heated kisses and wandering hands. He peeled your shirt off slowly, worshipping every inch of skin he revealed with his mouth. “So beautiful,” he whispered, voice husky.
His own shirt came off next, revealing his toned dancer’s body, lean muscle honed from years of powerful performances. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the wide couch.
Hoseok laid you down like you were precious, but his touches grew more urgent. He kissed down your neck, sucking gentle marks along your collarbone—marks only the two of you would see.
His hands explored your curves, squeezing your hips, tracing your thighs as he removed the rest of your clothes. When you were bare beneath him, he took a moment just to look, eyes full of adoration. “Mine,” he said softly, almost reverently. “All mine.”
He settled between your legs, mouth hot and eager as he tasted you. His tongue moved with expert precision—playful flicks on your clit mixed with deep, languid strokes that had you gripping his hair. Two fingers slid inside you, curling in that way he knew drove you crazy, matching the rhythm of his mouth. Hoseok moaned against you, the vibrations sending sparks through your body.
He looked up at you the whole time, eyes locked, making sure you felt exactly how much he needed this.
But he didn’t let you finish that way. He wanted to be closer. Needed it. Hoseok climbed back up, shedding the last of his clothes, his cock hard and flushed with need.
He rubbed the tip against your entrance, teasing just enough to make you whimper, before sliding in deep with one smooth thrust. The feeling of him filling you completely drew matching groans from both of you.
He started slow, rolling his hips in that fluid, dancer-like motion, grinding deep. One hand held yours above your head, fingers still intertwined, while the other caressed your face. “Look at me, baby,” he breathed, forehead resting against yours. “I need you to see how much I love you. How crazy you make me.”
The pace built gradually, thrusts becoming more powerful, more possessive. Skin met skin with rhythmic slaps, the couch creaking softly beneath you. Hoseok’s usual playfulness returned in little ways—he nipped at your lip with a small smile, whispered silly-sweet things between moans—but the jealousy fueled an intensity that made everything hotter. He shifted you onto your side, lifting one leg over his shoulder so he could go even deeper, hitting that perfect spot with every stroke.
“You feel so good,” he panted, sweat glistening on his skin. “No one else gets this. No one else gets to hold you, touch you, love you like I do.” His free hand slipped between you, thumb circling your clit in tight, perfect patterns. The combination sent you spiraling fast.
When you came, it hit like a wave—walls clenching around him as you cried out his name. Hoseok followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a long, throaty moan, hips stuttering through the pleasure. He collapsed gently on top of you, careful not to crush you, arms wrapping around you in the tightest hug.
Even in the afterglow, the clinginess stayed. He pressed kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, nose, lips—while still inside you. “I’m sorry I got jealous,” he whispered, nuzzling your neck.
“But I can’t help it. You’re my ult, my sunshine, my reason for smiling even on hard days. I need the world to see how close we are, even if it’s just through little things like holding your hand or resting my chin on your head.”
He pulled out eventually, cleaning you both with gentle care before pulling you into his lap. The second round came naturally, slower and sweeter this time. You rode him on the couch, his hands guiding your hips as he looked up at you with pure adoration.
He sat up midway, arms around your waist in a full embrace, mouths meeting in messy kisses while he thrust up to meet you. More forehead kisses, more whispers of love, more of that special energy only Hoseok could bring.
Afterward, tangled together and breathing softly, he kept you close. Fingers tracing patterns on your back, chin resting on your head again. “Promise me something?” he asked quietly. “No matter who flirts or how hard we have to hide this… you’ll always come back to me like this.
Let me hold you, love you, remind you that you’re my favorite person in the entire universe.”
You smiled, kissing his jaw. “Always, Hobi. You’re my ult too.”
Hoseok’s bright laugh returned, genuine this time, as he hugged you tighter. The jealousy had faded, replaced by warmth and certainty.
He would go back out there soon with his playful energy, but everyone would still see it—that extra closeness, the way his arm found your shoulders so naturally, the protective glint in his eye. Because when it came to you, Hoseok didn’t just love quietly. He loved with his whole heart, his whole body, and everyone nearby would feel it.
✧
✧ 𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧
Jimin carried his heart in his eyes. That was what made his jealousy so devastating—not loud or possessive in a flashy way, but a quiet ache that turned those expressive eyes softer, almost glassy, like the light inside him had dimmed. He was deeply, secretly in love with you, the kind of love that bloomed in stolen glances during rehearsals and whispered confessions in the dark of hotel rooms.
You kept it hidden because the world demanded it, but that only made moments like this cut deeper. He wasn’t angry. He was hurt. The kind of hurt that made him question everything.
The waiting area backstage before the showcase was filled with the usual energy—stylists rushing with last-minute fixes, members warming up their voices, and low chatter bouncing off the walls. Jimin sat on a low couch, legs tucked under him gracefully, scrolling through his phone. But his attention wasn’t on the screen. It was on you, across the room, talking to one of the backup vocal coaches.
The guy was kind, experienced, and had a gentle way of speaking that clearly put you at ease. He laughed at something you said, leaning in slightly as he offered tips on a tricky harmony, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder in encouragement.
Jimin’s smile, the one he’d been holding for the staff earlier, faltered. His eyes softened, the usual sparkle dulling into something quieter, more vulnerable. He looked away for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek, but his gaze kept drifting back. Do they make you happier than I do? The thought crept in uninvited. Am I bothering you lately? Maybe I’ve been too clingy in our secret texts. Maybe you need someone who doesn’t have to hide. His fingers tightened around his phone, but outwardly, he stayed composed—almost too still, too quiet. The members noticed the shift; Jungkook asked if he was okay, and Jimin just nodded with a small, forced curve of his lips.
When the coach’s hand lingered on your arm a second longer while demonstrating a breathing technique, Jimin couldn’t stay seated. He stood gracefully, crossing the room without fanfare. No dramatic words, no tight smiles like Hoseok might use. Just a gentle touch—his hand slipping into yours, fingers intertwining as he tugged you lightly toward him. “Hey,” he said softly, voice barely above a murmur. “Can we talk for a minute?” His eyes met yours, pleading in that subtle way only you could read. The coach sensed the moment and stepped back with a polite nod.
Jimin led you down the hallway to his private dressing room, his hold on your hand never loosening. Once inside, with the door closed and the world locked out, the overthinking spilled quietly from him. He turned to you, eyes even softer now, almost misty. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead pulling it up to press against his chest so you could feel his heartbeat—steady but a little faster than usual.
“I saw you with him,” he whispered, voice gentle but laced with that hurt. “The way he made you laugh… it was nice. Really nice. Do they make you happier than I do? Be honest with me. I can take it, I think. But lately I keep wondering if I’m bothering you. If all these secret moments, the late calls when I can’t sleep, the way I always want you close… maybe it’s too much. Maybe you need space.”
His free hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, touch feather-light, as if afraid you might pull away. Those beautiful eyes searched yours, vulnerable and open in a way he rarely showed the world. Jimin melted when he felt loved, but right now, the jealousy had him unraveling in the softest, most heartbreaking way.
You reassured him immediately, cupping his face and telling him how much he meant to you—how no one compared, how his attention was your favorite thing. The words worked like magic. His shoulders relaxed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he leaned into your palm. “Really?” he breathed, voice cracking just a little. And then he melted completely, stepping closer until his body pressed against yours, arms wrapping around your waist in a needy embrace. “I need you,” he murmured against your neck. “Show me I’m still your favorite.”
The kiss started tender, almost hesitant, like he was afraid to ask for too much. But as you deepened it, pouring reassurance into every brush of lips and tongue, Jimin came alive. His hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer, fingers tracing the curve of your spine with familiar reverence. Clothes came off slowly, between soft kisses and whispered affirmations. He peeled your shirt away like unwrapping something precious, lips following the path of exposed skin—collarbone, shoulder, the dip between your breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, eyes drinking you in. His own shirt slipped off, revealing the lean, sculpted lines of his dancer’s body, skin glowing under the warm lights. He lifted you onto the vanity table, stepping between your legs, hands gentle but sure on your thighs. “Tell me again,” he asked softly, forehead resting against yours. “That I’m the one you want.”
“You’re the only one, Jimin. Always.”
That was all he needed. He kissed you deeply, tongues sliding together as his hands explored. He cupped your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peaked under his touch, drawing quiet gasps from you. Lower, his fingers trailed, slipping between your legs to find you already wet for him. Two slender fingers eased inside, curling slowly, perfectly, while his thumb brushed your clit in lazy circles. He watched your face the entire time, eyes soft and locked on yours, feeding on every moan like it was oxygen.
“Please,” you breathed, and he nodded, removing his fingers to free himself. His cock was hard, flushed, curving beautifully as he stroked it once before pressing against your entrance. He slid in slowly, savoring every inch, both of you sighing at the connection. Jimin’s hips rolled in fluid, graceful thrusts—deep and unhurried, like a dance only the two of you knew. One arm wrapped around your back, holding you close, while the other braced on the table.
“Feel me,” he whispered, voice husky with emotion. “I’m yours too. Completely.” His pace stayed tender at first, but reassurance turned the heat up. He buried his face in your neck, sucking soft marks as his thrusts grew firmer, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. You clung to his shoulders, nails lightly scratching his back, and he shivered in pleasure.
He pulled back to look at you again, eyes half-lidded but shining. “I was scared for a second… that maybe someone else could make you smile bigger. But this—us—it’s everything.” The vulnerability mixed with desire made it intensely intimate. He shifted you slightly, angling deeper, one hand slipping between you to rub your clit in time with his movements. The build was slow, overwhelming, until you came with a soft cry, clenching around him, pulling him over the edge too. Jimin moaned your name quietly, spilling deep inside you, hips stuttering as waves of pleasure washed over him.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, holding you tightly, foreheads pressed together as breaths mingled. Then the melting happened fully—soft kisses all over your face, gentle hands cleaning you both with a warm towel from the side counter. He carried you to the small couch, curling around you like a koala, legs tangled, arms secure around your waist. “Thank you,” he murmured, nuzzling your hair. “For always making me feel wanted. I get so scared sometimes that I’m not enough in all this hiding.”
“You’re more than enough,” you reassured him again, fingers carding through his hair. He practically purred at the touch, eyes closing in contentment.
The second round came naturally, slower and even more emotional. You straddled him on the couch, sinking down onto him inch by inch while he gazed up at you like you hung the stars. His hands guided your hips, but gently, letting you set the rhythm. Every roll of your body drew soft praises from him—“So good… you feel perfect… I love you like this.” He sat up midway, chest to chest, arms wrapped fully around you in a tight embrace as he thrust up to meet you. Mouths met in lazy, deep kisses, tongues dancing as pleasure built again. When you both came this time, it was together—whispers and shudders, bodies trembling in sync.
Afterward, Jimin kept you in his lap, tracing invisible patterns on your skin, chin resting on your shoulder. The hurt jealousy had dissolved into pure, warm affection. He was quiet again, but this time it was peaceful, content. “I don’t want to go back out there yet,” he admitted with a small smile. “Just a little longer like this. You make everything better.”
He would return to the others soon, eyes bright once more, that charming stage persona slipping back into place. But the secret marks on your skin, the way his hand would brush yours a little longer than necessary, and the soft glances only you understood—they would remind everyone, subtly, that his heart was already claimed. Jimin’s love was like that: not loud, but profound. And when reassured, he gave it back tenfold, melting completely into the person who made his world feel right.
✧
✧ 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠
Taehyung felt everything deeply. Love, joy, sadness — and especially jealousy. Out of all the members, no one burned with it quite like he did. You weren’t dating. Not officially. You had never put a label on whatever this was between you: stolen kisses in the studio after midnight, fingers brushing under tables, late-night talks where he called you his soulmate in that low, sincere voice of his. But the lack of a title didn’t stop the fierce possessiveness that surged through him every time someone else got too close to you. If anything, it made it worse. Because without a label, he had no real right to feel this way — yet he felt it all the same.
The green room before the soundcheck was lively. Members sprawled across couches, staff moved around with tablets and cables, and you were sitting on the arm of a chair talking to one of the new international staff members — a tall, friendly guy who had been helping with translations. He was charming in an easy way, laughing as he showed you something on his phone. Taehyung sat across the room, legs spread wide, wearing an oversized hoodie, but his usual boxy smile was nowhere to be found.
Instead, his dark eyes were locked on you. Brows slightly furrowed. Lips pressed into a straight line. He didn’t even realize how obvious it was until Jungkook nudged Jimin and both of them started smirking.
“Hyung, you’re staring again,” Jungkook teased quietly, loud enough for the others to hear. “Looking like someone kicked your puppy.”
Taehyung blinked, trying to school his expression into something neutral, but it was too late. The frown was already there, deep and sulky. His gaze flicked back to you immediately. The staff guy leaned closer to show you another video, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair. Taehyung’s jaw tightened. That should be him. Sitting next to you. Making you laugh like that. Being the only one allowed in your space.
He stood up suddenly, long legs carrying him across the room without thinking. The members watched with knowing grins — they had seen this side of Taehyung more than once when it came to you.
“Hey,” he said, voice deep and a little rough as he stopped right beside you. He didn’t even acknowledge the staff member at first. His eyes were only on you. “Come sit with me instead.”
You looked up, catching the unmistakable sulk in his expression. The staff guy paused mid-sentence, suddenly aware of the heavy aura surrounding Taehyung.
“I was just—” you started, but Taehyung was already gently taking your hand, fingers wrapping around yours with quiet determination.
“Please?” he added, softer this time, but the jealousy was written all over his face. Big brown eyes, slight pout, shoulders a little hunched like the weight of watching you with someone else actually hurt him physically. The staff member cleared his throat awkwardly and found an excuse to leave.
The second you let Taehyung pull you over to the couch and sit beside him, his entire mood shifted. The frown melted away. That beautiful boxy smile broke across his face like sunshine after rain. He immediately draped one long arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side, chin resting lightly on your head. Soulmate behavior. Like the universe had clicked back into place now that you were close again.
“Much better,” he murmured happily, voice low enough for only you to hear. His fingers played with the sleeve of your shirt, absentmindedly tracing patterns. The members exchanged amused looks but didn’t comment further.
But the jealousy hadn’t disappeared. It had simply been redirected into need.
A little while later, when the room cleared out slightly, Taehyung leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “Come with me for a minute.” No room for argument. He took your hand again and led you to his private dressing room, locking the door behind you with a soft click.
The moment you were alone, the intensity returned. He backed you against the wall, hands framing your face as he stared down at you with those soulful eyes.
“I hate it,” he confessed, voice husky. “I know we’re not… official. But seeing him next to you, making you laugh, touching your chair like that — it drives me crazy. You’re mine in here.” He pressed a hand over his own heart. “You feel like my soulmate. Even if we haven’t said the words yet. I get so jealous I can’t hide it.”
His kiss was deep and consuming, the kind only Taehyung could give — passionate, emotional, like he was pouring his entire soul into it. Tongues moved slowly, tasting, claiming. His large hands slid down your body, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him so you could feel how hard he already was.
Clothes came off with urgent but reverent touches. He peeled your shirt away, kissing every inch of skin he revealed, whispering how beautiful you were, how no one else should ever get to stand that close to you. When he removed his own hoodie and shirt, revealing his broad shoulders and toned chest, you couldn’t help but run your hands over him. He shivered under your touch.
Taehyung lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the couch and laying you down. He hovered over you, eyes never leaving yours as he removed the rest of your clothes. “So perfect,” he breathed, kissing down your stomach until he reached your core. He took his time, tongue moving in slow, sensual strokes, savoring you like fine wine. Two long fingers pushed inside you, curling gently while his mouth focused on your clit. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting through your body.
But he didn’t let you finish there. He needed to be closer.
Rising up, he freed himself, thick and flushed, and rubbed the tip against your entrance. “Look at me,” he whispered. The eye contact was intense as he pushed in slowly, stretching you open inch by inch until he was buried deep. Both of you groaned at the feeling.
His thrusts started deep and rhythmic, hips rolling in that smooth, artistic way of his. One hand held yours above your head, fingers intertwined, while the other cradled the back of your neck so he could keep kissing you. “You’re mine,” he panted between kisses, even though you weren’t officially. “Even if the world doesn’t know yet. Tell me you feel it too.”
“I feel it, Tae. Only you.”
That reassurance made him melt and burn at the same time. His pace picked up, thrusts becoming harder, more desperate. The jealousy that had been simmering all afternoon poured out in every movement — possessive but full of love. He shifted you so your legs wrapped higher around his waist, going deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars.
When you came, clenching tightly around him and moaning his name, Taehyung followed right after, burying his face in your neck as he spilled deep inside you with a low, broken groan. His body trembled against yours, arms wrapping around you tightly like he never wanted to let go.
Even after, the clinginess stayed. He cleaned you gently, then pulled you into his lap, arms locked around your waist, chin on your shoulder. “I know I get too jealous,” he admitted quietly, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “But I can’t help it. You’re my person. My soulmate. Watching someone else get your attention feels like losing a piece of myself.”
You stayed like that for a while, his hands gently stroking your back, mood completely bright again now that he had you all to himself. When desire built once more, the second round was slower, more intimate. You rode him on the couch, his hands guiding your hips while he looked up at you with pure adoration. He sat up to kiss you deeply, chest to chest, whispering sweet nothings and jealous little confessions between moans.
By the time you both finished again, you were tangled together, breathing softly. Taehyung kept you close, refusing to let go just yet. “Stay with me a little longer,” he murmured, voice warm. “I need more of this. More of you.”
He would go back out there soon with that signature boxy smile, acting like nothing happened. But everyone would notice how his eyes followed you, how he found excuses to sit next to you, how his hand always seemed to find yours when no one was looking too closely. Because Taehyung’s jealousy wasn’t subtle — it was obvious, deep, and rooted in a love so strong it didn’t need a label to feel real.
He was the most jealous for a reason. You were his soulmate. And he would keep reminding you — and everyone else — of that fact, one stolen moment at a time.
✧
✧ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤
Jungkook tried so hard not to care. He really did. He told himself a thousand times that you weren’t officially his, that the secret moments you shared—late-night gym sessions where he’d spot you, quiet studio cuddles, and stolen kisses behind closed doors—didn’t give him the right to feel possessive. But he cared the most. Out of everyone, no one’s heart twisted quite like his when someone else flirted with you. It made his ears burn red, his usual bright energy go quiet, and his big doe eyes stay glued to you like you were the only thing in the room.
The backstage lounge before the final rehearsal was buzzing. Members were scattered around, some playing games on their phones, others stretching or chatting with staff. Jungkook sat on the floor against the couch, pretending to scroll through his camera roll, but his attention was locked across the room where you stood talking to one of the young backup dancers. The guy was energetic, funny, and clearly interested. He kept leaning in, demonstrating a move and laughing when you tried it, his hand brushing your arm more than once.
Jungkook’s ears turned pink, then bright red. He pressed his lips together, trying to look unbothered, but his eyes never left you. That should be me,his brain repeated like a mantra. Making you laugh. Touching your arm. Standing that close. He stayed silent, jaw tight, fingers gripping his phone a little too hard. The members noticed. Jimin nudged Taehyung with a smirk, whispering something that made them both glance at Jungkook’s obvious struggle.
When the dancer stepped even closer, placing a hand on your waist to “correct your posture” while showing another step, Jungkook couldn’t stay back anymore. He stood up, ears still flaming, and crossed the room with that effortless athletic grace. Without a word, he slid right beside you, one arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you gently but firmly into his chest.
His other hand found yours, fingers intertwining tightly. To everyone else, he acted completely normal—casual smile, soft “hey” like he was just joining the conversation—but his body told a different story. His thumb stroked the back of your hand, and his fingers rested possessively on your waist, right where the other guy’s hand had been.
The dancer got the hint quickly, mumbling something about warming up and backing away. Jungkook’s ears were still red as he kept you pressed against him, chin resting lightly on top of your head for a second before he pulled back just enough to look normal. But inside? His brain was a mess of cute, jealous thoughts. Mine. Should be me. Only me
A few minutes later, when the room thinned out, he leaned down, voice low and a little shy. “Come with me?” He didn’t wait for a full answer, just gently tugged you toward his private dressing room, hand still holding yours the entire way. The second the door closed and locked, the shy act cracked open.
Jungkook turned to you, ears still tinged pink, big eyes soft and vulnerable. “I know I’m not supposed to care this much,” he admitted quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re not even… you know. But seeing him touch you like that? It makes me crazy. That should be me. Only me.”
His jealousy was the cutest thing in the world—those wide eyes, the way he tried so hard to play it cool but failed adorably, the soft pout forming on his lips. You smiled and stepped closer, cupping his face. The reassurance made him melt instantly. Jungkook leaned into your touch like a puppy, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he pulled you into a tight hug, arms wrapping fully around you.
The kiss started sweet, almost shy, but quickly deepened with all the pent-up emotion. Jungkook kissed like he did everything else—with full commitment and passion. His hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against his strong body as his tongue moved against yours. He walked you backward until your legs hit the couch, then gently laid you down, hovering over you with those sparkling eyes.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, voice husky but still carrying that adorable nervousness. He helped you out of your shirt, then removed his own, revealing the sculpted muscles he worked so hard for. His hands were gentle as he explored your body, kissing down your neck, across your collarbone, and lower, sucking soft marks that made you shiver. When he reached your waistband, he looked up at you for permission, ears still faintly red.
Once you were both bare, Jungkook settled between your legs, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs before his tongue found your core. He was eager and attentive, licking and sucking with focused dedication, two fingers sliding inside you and curling just right. He moaned softly against you, the vibrations making your back arch. His free hand reached up to hold yours, fingers intertwined again—like even here, he needed that connection.
But he didn’t let you finish that way. He wanted to be closer. Jungkook climbed back up, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his lips. He stroked himself a few times, then lined up and pushed in slowly, groaning your name as he sank deep. The stretch was perfect, his thickness filling you completely. He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing shakily.
“That should be me,” he whispered again, almost like he couldn’t help it. “Only me touching you. Only me making you feel good.”
His thrusts started deep and steady, hips rolling with that powerful athletic control. One hand stayed laced with yours above your head while the other gripped your thigh, holding you open for him. Jungkook’s jealousy melted into the sweetest, most intense lovemaking—every movement full of adoration and quiet possessiveness. He buried his face in your neck, kissing and nibbling as his pace gradually quickened.
“You feel so good,” he panted, voice adorably breathy. “So tight… so perfect. I get so jealous because I like you so much. Like… really like you.”
The confession made your heart flutter. You pulled him closer, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. Jungkook’s thrusts grew faster, deeper, hitting that spot inside you repeatedly until you were moaning his name. His hand slipped between you, thumb rubbing your clit in perfect circles. When you came, clenching hard around him and trembling, he followed right after with a cute, broken moan, burying himself deep and filling you with warm spurts.
He collapsed gently on top of you, careful not to crush you, arms wrapping around your body in the tightest hug. His ears were still pink as he nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft kisses everywhere he could reach. “Sorry if I was too obvious out there,” he mumbled, voice muffled against your skin. “I tried not to care… but I care so much. You’re my favorite person.”
The aftercare was pure Jungkook—sweet and attentive. He cleaned you both carefully with a warm towel, then pulled you into his lap on the couch, arms locked around you like he never wanted to let go. He kept playing with your fingers, intertwining them over and over, chin resting on your shoulder.
The second round came naturally, slower and even cuter. You straddled him, sinking down onto his cock while he looked up at you with those big, sparkling eyes full of affection. His hands guided your hips gently, but he let you set the pace, whispering praises and little jealous confessions between kisses. “No one else gets to hold you like this… only me, right?” He sat up halfway, chest pressed to yours in a warm embrace, thrusting up to meet you as you rode him.
The closeness made everything more intense. When you both came again, it was with soft moans and foreheads pressed together, bodies trembling in sync.
Afterward, Jungkook refused to let you move, cuddling you tightly against his chest, one hand stroking your hair. His jealousy had turned into the fluffiest, warmest afterglow. “Can we stay like this a little longer?” he asked, voice shy but hopeful. “I just… I like having you close. Makes me feel better.”
He would go back out there soon, acting cool with that signature Jungkook confidence, but everyone would notice the little things: how his hand always found yours, how his eyes followed you protectively, how his ears turned pink whenever someone got too friendly. Because when Jungkook got jealous, it wasn’t scary or dramatic—it was the cutest thing in the world.
A big, strong guy reduced to blushing ears and needy hugs, all because he cared the most.
synopsis: The big bang signified the universes creation, but also it's destruction. Regardless of the side of history you lie on, you are the catalyst either way.
ot7 bts x f.reader (poly)
ㄨ : wc: 10.7k
ㄨ : genre: yandere au, a/b/o au, zombie apocalypse au, survival thriller, dark “romance”, dark content
ㄨ : content: alpha bts!, omega!reader, post apocalyptic themes, hiding of second gender, light panic attacks, unreliable narrators, one flashback (1st scene), light torture in a flashback, references to dead bodies, namjoon kills someone, yoongi is a lil angsty, delusional jk (we’re never escaping him), major character injury (!!), bombs, explosions, light angst, light fluff, mostly action, omega stereotypes (omegaphobia? lol), hoseok is insane i fear, omg reader is back too i missed her, light religious symbolism, hoseok is a sadist and a masochist lowk, blood, guns, general violence, referenced masturbation, lowk i thought there were more? Lmk if i missed anything!! -> series warnings here
ㄨ : notes: HAPPY ARIRANG I AM OBSESSED WITH THE ALBUM AND ALSO SORRY FOR HOSEOK HE'S A BIT OF A MESS <3 Our little reader gets to meet the pack soon! Yippee!
ㄨ : chapter 4 <- index -> chapter 6
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
THEN.
BANG!
Seokjin’s form crouches low to the ground, his thighs spread while his arms hang precariously over his knees, wrists limp as they settle angling towards the ground. He simply just stares.
Well, the business deal Seokjin’s alpha was trying to procure had certainly gone south, that much is clear enough.
In front of him, lying on the floor, is one of the Jeon clan’s higher ups– clan’s beta, if Seokjin’s sources were correct
They were.
Though now, he looks like nothing more than a neutered puppy. The man's whimpering certainly doesn’t help with the picture either. It almost makes Seokjin want to laugh.
Namjoon is crouched on the other side of the body– body because that is simply what this man is, if he doesn’t start to give them answers. He doesn’t have much of a face left now anyway, so he might as well be.
The pack alpha’s hand is fisted into the betas hair, the tendon in his arms twitching from the effort of forcing the man's head into the ground over, and over, and over again. Slamming his head into the cold hardwood floor of the office, other bodies scattered around their forms.
The pool of red is still growing.
The pack alpha is huffing, there is a glorious fire in his eyes. Seokjin thinks he looks beautiful.
“Should I ask you again?” Seokjin questions, head tilting to the side. A small, placid smile dotting the corner of his lips, condescension radiating from his entire being as Namjoon pulls the man's head up just high enough once more.
What an ugly thing he has become. Maybe he’s the unlucky one, the lucky ones are probably the corpses scattered across the floor. At least they didn’t have to undergo their combined fury.
He should have just given Seokjin the answers he wanted already.
Seokjin sighs once more, looking up at Namjoon, “It doesn’t seem like he wants to, does it?”
Seokjin registers the opening of the office door. Huh, he really did not think anyone else was in the house today. Not that it matters much, Seokjin will deal with them the exact same way.
He sighs, closing his eyes as he stands. His arms feel tight in his suit, but he raises one anyway. Cresting it on the same side of his neck where Namjoon had left his bite, using its force to aid him in cracking his neck.
Seokjin doesn’t have time to dilly dally. He’ll be sure to make this quick.
The intruder relieves a sharp gasp from his lungs, the lazy drawl of Seokjin’s lids to draw upwards, taking him in for the very first time.
Soft, perfectly cut straight brown hair. Large doe eyes. Perfectly sculpted nose with little moles dotting around his face in constallations.
Seokjin’s recognition of him is instantaneous.
Jeon Jeongguk. 23. Important.
The Jeon pack alpha’s only child. The last progeny remaining in their all-alpha familial line.
Well damn, Seokjin was sure he wasn’t here. From the information Seokjin gathered before setting out to the groups's territory, the kid was practically treated as royalty. Spoiled rotten, coddled. There were even rumours he had never gone outside before.
Seokjin didn’t believe them, of course not, that would be a rather auspicious thing to do. But with how much he had heard about Jeongguk’s treatment, he didn't think they would just let the kid wander around on his own in a clan meeting house like this. He doubted Jeongguk would be involved in territorial conflicts at all. He was a member of the familial pack, not the territorial one like Seokjin… interogates… now. The distinction is clear as clear as day.
Looks like his intel may have been wrong.
Not only is he here and involved with them, he looks like a deer in headlights. His cheeks are turning a bright shade of red. It looks as though there are sparkles in his eyes. To be honest, Seokjin is taken aback. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but not something so… passionate. Something so devoted.
Is…. is this kid staring at Namjoon with… admiration…? While Namjoon has Jeongguk’s mom’s right hand is in a bloodied heap on the floor?
Huh. Well, this is certainly a surprising change of tune.
“S-Sir! Please leave! Don’t get yourself involved with this!” Huh, so the body still did have a voice. He was sure Namjoon had squeezed it out of him by now. Regardless, the words have Seokjin turning his head back towards the mess on the floor, back towards his alpha.
Oh. Seokjin’s eyes go wide.
Namjoon is staring right back at Jeongguk, that same star-crossed lovers expression on his face. Looking at him like the universe just changed for the better.
Turning back towards the younger, Seokjin confirms it– they are simply enamoured with one another.
When he makes the motion, when all the attention in the room is directly only at Jeongguk, it is clear the kid notices. His posture straightens, his chest puffing out just slightly. The most determined look that Seokjin has ever seen is as obvious as ever written across his features.
One of his arms raises up– certainly not the arms of someone who has had experience fighting– a single finger pointing towards both Seokjin and Namjoon. A cocksure smile on the pure alphas lips.
The world spins. This is nothing like Seokjin had been expecting out of the day.
“I want you.” He pauses, the determined smile blooming brighter. Seokjin doesn’t know how the kid could be so positive in such a thing– Seokjin needs time to fall, he guesses Jeongguk doesn’t. “Both of you.”
A sickening crack sounds throughout the room, the betas death as clear as day, though no one really pays attention. Instead, everything revolves around Namjoon rising to a stand right next to Seokjin, a similar smile on his own face.
“I feel like there are a few questions you should be asking instead of just saying something so bold.” All the rage Namjoon spoke with before the entry of Jeongguk is gone, a similar confident air in his tone. “Like who are we, why are we in your office. Why we just killed your clans beta.”
“I don’t care.” Jeongguk, though Seokjin just met him, looks like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “I didn’t like him anyway. He was shitty at taking care of me.”
Spoiled.
Namjoon hums, “Shouldn’t you be worried we’re going to kill you, too?”
Jeongguk thinks for a second, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he considers. “No. You want me.”
Maybe not spoiled. Maybe just sheltered if he thinks that simply about such things.
“You’ll have to deal with a few more than just us.” Namjoon leans forward a bit, the air around him bending to his will. Haughty. Attractive. “We have 4 other mates.”
Oh. Jeongguk now looks as though he is simply vibrating with delight. His teeth– ones Seokjin notices look like a bunnies– make an appearance, biting his lower lip.
“I want them, too.”
Well, Seokjin’s dealings are certain to become a lot more smooth from this point onwards.
NOW.
Jeongguk hasn’t slept.
Well, okay, to be honest, he’s not sure he remembers the last time he actually had a full nights rest.
Wait– no, that isn’t true either. The last night he did it was the night after he saw you for the first time, he remembers it clearly, actually. He would rather die than forget it. He would never in a million years forget dreaming of you.
He was in the woods, you were there too, obviously. Scampering between trees, looking so cute and playful. God, you were so fucking adorable– calling out to him, asking him to chase you.
Fuck, who was he to say no? He simply he complied. He would be an idiot to deny you of anything ever.
When he caught you? It felt like the last of his dreams had finally come true.
You were giggling underneath him, his body pinning you down by your shoulders. Your eyes in the prettiest little crests that he kissed over and over again.
He remembers the end, where you made him promise to find you when he woke up, too.
…Yeah.
He hasn’t had a full night's rest since then. But especially last night, last night he didn’t get a wink. Not even the half-hearted nap he usually gets by on.
How was he supposed to sleep after Joon broke the news that they would be going to your house the very next day? The house that he knows belongs to you now, all thanks to Yoongi. The house where– where–
Jeongguk clenches his fist, lets his nails dig into the skin of his palms as a way to manage the putrid smell that was already beginning to leak from his pores. In the tight confines of the armoured truck, he knows everyone else will be able to smell it.
Should he really care? Probably not. But he doesn’t want the second– first?-- time you smell him to be so… so unpleasant. He wants you to smell the real him. The alpha who your heart and soul belong to, the one you’ll build a future with. The one that can provide for you, that can take you out of whatever hell you’ve been keeping yourself in–
How long would it take before you let him give you a bite? How long will it take for you to give one to him?
Soon, hopefully. God, he can’t even count how many times he’s stroked his cock to the thought of your cute little fangs piercing the skin of his neck. How blown out your eyes would be with pretty red dotting your mouth. Do you even know that he saved the left side of his neck for you? Waited so many years just for his perfect omega to leave tangible evidence on his skin of your simple belonging to one another.
… Well, he hasn’t thought about it in awhile, but the point still stands. He hasn’t been able to, not since your face began to retain the essence of a shadowless blob whenever you appear in his mind, when you appear in front of him. Just…just out of reach.
Fucking had been in reach for over two weeks.
His top lip curls at the thought. He reminds himself to stop thinking such shitty things.
It doesn’t work.
He just needs to see you, and then everything will be right again. He’ll be able to protect you. His pack will be complete. The last piece of his soul, the part that felt like it has been missing will finally click into place.
Everything will be perfect.
You’ll be perfect.
Jeongguk forces his head back into reality as the wheels of the vehicle roll to a stop. His neck cocking to the side, deep eyes locking on Seokjin in the driver's seat. The clicking of metal registers in his ears, his hand clenching around the barrel of his semi-automatic a little tighter, the gun propped up against the floor, muzzle facing the sky.
“We're here.” Seokjin hums, completely carefree. Jeongguk isn’t sure how, to be honest. “We have a bit of a hike, if Jimin’s map is right.”
Today determines the rest of his future… do they not get that? Of course they don’t. They don’t understand what you and him have, no matter how much they might try to. They don’t understand the levels at which his entirety calls out to you.
He’s already reaching for the handle of the door, his entire body itching to leave, when another voice stops him– Joons’, “Gguk-ah, do a scan for us.”
His nose scrunches up while a little wrinkle finds itself between his brows, “Huh? Why me?”
That isn’t his job. He’s not good at that sort of thing.
At that, Joon only shrugs, handing the binoculars back behind him, “I trust you more to do it.”
Heat washes over Jeongguk instantly. The simple words have an even simpler effect on his body– his ears and eyes perk up a bit more, right alone with his chest swelling. No matter how much he just wants to get moving, that line has Jeongguk already hauling his upper half through the sunroof of the armoured vehicle, eyes scanning the distance.
From the top of the hill the pack has managed to find themself on, looking off into the distance is an easy task. Any subtle clearing is discovered, especially the very one they think contains your cabin.
Jeongguk sees it easily, mentally comparing it to the map he had been studying the entire ride over– the piece of paper that Jimin and Taehyung marked your approximate location on. Seems like they were paying enough attention to get that right, at least. Even if they might have messed up your potential first meeting.
No. As much as Jeongguk is angry at them, he’s even more upset with Yoongi. At least Jimin and Tae could plead ignorance. What they did was only a reaction to Yoongi.
What Yoongi did to him was straight malice.
Hiding you. Keeping you after he found out you were an omega. Only confirming it after Jeongguk was on the verge of a breakdown because he couldn’t fucking remember–
He takes another deep breath, centering himself. He’s lucky he’s been practicing the breathing exercises Seokjin-hyung has been prescribing and that the thought of meeting you soon is somewhat settling.
“Yeah. House is where Jimin said.” Jeongguk states, plain as day. Giving one final sweep before getting ready to hop down. Nothing much falling along the dense forest tree line.
Lucky that autumn was on their side– if it was any warmer out, the tree leafs may have kept you covered.
“It looks–” Wait, what was that?
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of light in the distance. Too solid to be a solar flare, too obvious to be a trick of the mind. Twisting the lens to make it focus, something different comes into view.
A truck, hardly hidden at all against the trees. Standing out so loudly it might as well be a homing beacon to anyone who wanted to discover its presence.
“Wait, hyung, I think–” Jeongguk scrunches his eyes, the hard plastic of the binoculars digging into his skin as he pushes his face into them deeper, like that will help him see better. “I think there's a truck over there?”
“Mm.” He hears the shifting of guns, probably Joon following the direction of his pointed finger from where the first car had already unloaded onto the ground. “About the same distance away as the house?”
Fuck if he knows, Jeongguk has always been shit with distances. It’s normally Yoongi’s job to take note of the perimeters like this– he still doesn’t know why he’s been put on the case instead. Why has he been given a job when all he wants to do is think about you. It's annoying.
He doesn’t need to be managed. He doesn’t need to be distracted.
“Yeah, looks like it.” Jeongguk pulls the binoculars from his face before taking a second to inhale, tasting the scent of the wind on his tongue. He won’t make the same mistake again.
He pulls himself the rest of the way out of the sunroof, heavy gun clattering against his shoulder as he jumps to the ground with a practiced ease only gained from experience. His form landing with a thud, both feet on the ground as he squats, one balled hand taking the brunt of the force not received by his knees.
He stands, eyes glued into the distance.
“We didn’t see any cars out here before.” Jimin’s voice is in his ears, but he half ignores it. He’s not focused on the conversation of his mates right now, all he can think about is the alpha in his head. The one telling him that these are your woods.
“Tracks.” Taehyung is supplying his mate, just like he always does.
“Yeah, there were tire tracks, but they didn’t lead to a car or anything.”
“Hm.” Joon is too analytical. Seokjin, too.
“Does it really matter?” Hoseok groans out the words– Jeongguk hears him cracking his knuckles, “We don’t have all fucking day, and if these two don’t stop laying it on thick there won’t be hiding from the little doe.”
Jeongguk knows Hoseok is referring to the pheromones he’s releasing, but he really doesn’t give a shit. At least the alpha is speeding the whole thing up– Jeongguk can feel his muscles burning. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves and just goes to get you himself.
His patience is a tether that is not withstanding gale force winds.
“We're triangled right between them.” Jeongguk’s eyes roll, unable to stop himself at the sound of Yoongi’s gruff voice chiming in. He guesses at some point he set up shop looking out of the top of the other car with his sniper. “About 750 meters that way is the car, 875 to the house. 1000 between ‘em, too.”
Soon, Jeongguk hears the footfalls of Yoongi jumping, followed by the scribbling of a pen on a map. He’s starting to get frustrated with all these semantics. These alleged important parts of the job.
He still doesn’t understand why they have to be so careful about this.
You’re his soulmate, you’ll understand even if you are a little scared at first.
“It would be worth it to check it out, at least.” Seokjin’s voice is there– one of Jeongguk’s only hyungs along with Joon that seems to care about how hungry Jeongguk is to have you already. “If Jimin and Taehyung wrecked her house, she could be staying there for cover.”
What? Jeongguk’s alpha is howling in pain. How could he let his omega live inside of a car?! Even if it’s just for the night, that’s too much for you to go through. It’s just too much.
You deserve to be in a nice big house, bundled up in his clothes– not anyone elses right now– relaxing in his big bed, the softest blankets surrounding you while he feeds you the meat he’s hunted.
Joon nods his head, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Jimin, Taehyung, Jeongguk, you go to the truck. Radio us with what you see.”
. . . Jeongguk blinks.
He blinks again.
He’s not half listening to the conversation anymore.
“What?!” His head snaps before his brain can process the words, eyes finally leaving the distant trees you resided in for so long. So long, all alone. So long without him.
…You missed him, right? Don’t worry, you won’t have to for much longer.
They want him to go with them to the fucking car?! To the fucking car instead of your house?! They’re insane. Fucking insane. The growl is already in his tone before he can manage to stop it. “No.”
Hoseok’s expression is bored, Namjoon’s is blank, Seokjin’s is sympathetic. Jeongguk couldn’t give any less of a shit.
“Gguk-ah…” Seokjin is using that tone of voice he always does when Jeongguk gets riled up like this, the one that means he’s treating him like a pup. Sometimes he likes it. Today is not one of those days. “We need Yoongi with us at the main house…”
Wrong thing to say.
Jeongguk scoffs, “So he gets to see her before me? Are you joking?”
His bonds pang– the internal urge of half of him wanting to soothe the others displeasure combating with his temperament still burning from the night before. The rest are lucky Hoseok managed to calm him down before he took off on his own last night.
“No.” There could be something more to it, something they’re not telling him. They never tell him things. Or maybe they do– either way, it doesn’t matter. He’s pissed right now. All he can feel is that. “We just…”
“They don’t want you to see what the others did and freak out.” Jeongguk has never been more thankful for Hoseok’s blunt tone– at least someone will tell it to him like it is, even when he is worked up like this.
“Thats…” He would like to argue against their stance– that he totally would not blow up and pounce seeing what Jimin and Tae had done– but the words die on his tongue. He knows it's more than likely, so… he chooses a different route to argue his case.
He stands a little taller, “I just want to see. I should get to know how my mates been living.”
“You can see that after, can’t you?” Jimin grumbles, finally merging himself back into the main conversation from where Taehyung had him dragged away before.
Oh, of course, it would be Jimin saying that very thing. The one who wants to avoid Jeongguk seeing whatever state they left his soulmate's den in.
“Jimin, be quiet.” Seokjin sighs, trying once again to be the mediator. Jeongguk normally thinks it’s an incredible skill to have. He respects Seokjin a lot for him stepping up as second in command of the pack, but he’s having trouble retaining any of that sense now as he feels the biting breeze against his cheeks. As he feels the woods trying to speak to him.
“We need you to take the lead here, okay? Manage these 2 and direct them if she’s at the truck instead of the house.”
He feels like he’s going to scream.
See, the issue here is that Gguk doesn’t give a shit about pack dynamics.
He feels like a broken record due to how often he repeats it, but all he cares about is you.
He doesn’t give a shit that more people are needed to case a house than a truck. He doesn’t care that Jimin and Yoongi can’t be in a group together out of fear of them fighting. Doesn’t care that he can’t be with Yoongi either due to the fact he will definitely be fighting him.
Hell, it doesn’t bother him that Hoseok doesn’t see the point in getting you, or that Seokjin is only following along because of Joon’s lead. Sure, he’s frustrated by the way Yoongi’s eyes light up whenever you are discussed, and by the way that Tae shrinks away at the same mention. He didn’t even argue last night when he was excluded from Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin’s meeting last night while they were plotting today out.
He doesn’t care that the groups split makes the most logical sense– that the packs 3 highest in command should all be at the larger site. He doesn’t even care that the rest of them probably don’t even realise that he understands all of it– that he accounts for every minor detail, too.
He doesn’t give a shit about fucking anything other than getting to you and it feels like the others just aren’t listening to how his wolf howls for you.
He feels like he’s going in circles.
His head certainly is.
He should just go. He should just start listening to his instincts just like everyone else does. He should–
Namjoon’s solid hand comes down on his shoulder, his frame leaning down just slightly to look in Jeongguk’s eyes. “Gguk-ah. I’m counting on you. If you find her, you’ll catch her.”
Fuck. Jeongguk does care about that.
Cares about Joon. About the other pure-alphas approval.
As his heart begins to beat a little faster, he takes a step back while tossing the strap of his gun over his shoulder. His boots crunch against the solid soil as he turns his back to the rest of the pack, making sure his face is hidden before any sort of blush tries to rise to his cheeks.
Joon always makes fun of him for that.
“Whatever.” He grunts out, trying to keep it a secret how affected by his pack alpha he is. He’s not the pack’s pup anymore. He shouldn’t get so worked up over little things. “Let’s go.”
“If you see anything, radio.” Hoseok reminds, a slight strain in his voice from what Jeongguk can only imagine is another stretch. Another part of the generals routine. “Kill anything you see, infected people or alive ones. Doesn’t matter to me.”
As if Jeongguk doesn’t know that already.
He grunts, marching off down the unbeaten path with his two elder packmates in tow. His brain tuning out the words of the other four as his brain already moves onto the next thing. As the woods start to feel more and more familiar the deeper he finds himself going inside.
…He’s going to make sure the promise he made to the you in his dreams stays alive and well.
Yoongi's pace meanders a few behind the rest of the group, the heavy metal of his favourite gun thunking against his back with every step he takes. The smell of the damp forest floor invades his nostrils with every small pant he takes, the morning dew making the floor wet as mud decides to cling to his boots.
He never thought he would be out in the woods again.
His head tilts towards the sky as he thinks, lets his mind wander away from the sounds of birds while he has a moment to do so. His body instinctively following the guidance of the rest of his mates without having to put any conscious effort into doing so, something in him knowing they would keep him safe even if he got a little distracted.
The last time Yoongi stepped foot into the forest… into any woods like these… it had to be at least 10 years ago.
He doesn’t know how you live in them. How you survive it.
He knows the crushing weight of the trees.
He’s been trying to figure out how since last night, to be honest. Ever since Jimin mapped out roughly where you had been staying, he’s been wondering why you forced yourself out here. How long you’ve been managing.
The woods are so tall, how do you fight against them all on your own?
Yoongi couldn’t. Still can’t, probably.
Logically, he has to remind himself, something dense like this is probably safer from intruders– not safe enough, if Jimin and Taehyung were able to find you– and zombies. There were far less out here than there were constantly battering against the walls of their compound. Hoseok had only managed to spot 2 on their hike so far, both are double-dead now. So comes safety from others in isolation, he guesses. Maybe that’s how you view it. He almost wishes he could, too.
Still not safe enough.
Yeah, for once Yoongi has to agree with his inner alpha. You’re not safe enough. Not if two of his pack mates were able to track you down. Not if what they say is true about you having been out here alone for who knows how long.
As much as he hates the idea of taking that decision away from you, he hates the idea of you dying even more. He hates the idea of not being able to keep you safe from pain, from letting you rot out here.
That’s all forests do. They infest your brain with rot.
Yoongi can’t stand the idea of stumbling upon you, fungus covering your skin.
He can give you back other freedoms later. It’s what he’s promised himself. You’ll– okay, you probably won’t like his pack at first. He would be the first person to admit that, regardless of how much he cares for them. But… but eventually you might come around. You might like hi–
Yoongi shakes his head, forcing himself away from the train of thought his alpha keeps forcing him down.
He’s coming to get you, to protect you as a friend. Someone he considers a friend, even if it was only one night spent together under fictional stars. Even if he did just plan to let it all blur away.
He’s not coming to you as an alpha with a prerogative. He just… he wants you to be okay. Especially after what Jimin and Taehyung did. He just wants to make sure that you're safe. That you’re not spiralling like he would be under the same circumstances.
Yoongi hates the woods.
…Yoongi wants Jeongguk to forgive him.
He probably won’t.
He should probably stop worrying himself over it. He has more pressing matters to deal with– ones that are only a few meters away, not in an entirely different group, heading to another location.
The guilty part of him hopes Jeongguk will find you first, but the selfish part of him, the ever present one that seems intertwined with his wolf, hopes that he will get the honour.
It isn’t good for you to be alone. You shouldn’t have to suffer through it.
Yoongi is projecting, he knows it. He also can’t stop it, and honestly, doesn’t want to. He wants to feel connected to you. Maybe he’s being selfish again by allowing himself to do so.
…Well, he is the only one who’s actually met you. He’s the one you felt– feel safe with.
His fingers twitch, he wants to just hurry up with it all, already. He wants to get you out of here, bring you to the house. Comfort you, if you’d let him.
…Would you let him?
His heart starts beating a little bit faster. That can’t be good.
“You’re thinking too much.” Hoseoks’s hushed voice makes its way into his muddled mind, a broad shoulder bumping into his unsteady frame.
Yoongi’s eyes slowly draw back from the sky, instead finding their place upon Hoseoks’s handsome face instead. Too handsome. It looks like it was carved by one of the greats. It isn’t fair.
“That’s rich coming from you.” Yoongi deadpans like he definitely wasn’t just admiring the pack's chief of combat.
He totally wasn’t. “You never think when Namjoons’ ‘round.”
God, they’ve been together how many years and Yoongi still pretends to be coy. He knows Hoseok sees through it, though, so there’s really no harm. Not like when the Jeongguk first joined the pack and became acquainted with Yoongi’s sharp, unrelenting tongue. Yoongi will never forget the complete embarrassment of having to explain what Jimin dubbed his ‘cuteness aggression.’
Bleh.
It was the most embarrassing day of his life.
Thankfully, Hoseok likes it when Yoongi gets mean. Says it ‘gets him going’.
Hmph.
“Yeah, well it’s their job. I’m not on the clock right now.” Hoseok smiles, both of his arms raising up to hold the back of his head up. “Let Seokjin deal with it. Looks like he has a stick up his ass, anyway.”
Yeah, Yoongi guesses that’s true. Hoseok isn’t leading the pack’s recruits on any kind of clearing mission, nor is he leading anyone into war. Still, he doesn’t know how he is just so relaxed about everything when Yoongi feels like he’s dying inside.
Still, he doesn’t think he agrees with the idea of it being anyone else's job, especially not Seokjins’.
Yoongi hazards at the body next to the pack alphas. He still doesn’t understand why Seokjin acts like a saint. Their rooms are next to each other, he’s heard the elder’s rants. Yoongi’s one of the few other than the pack alpha that knows his position.
Huh, maybe Seokjin never realised how thin the walls are.
“Bullshit. You’re a control freak.” Yoongi grunts, “If Namjoon didn’t force you out of taking the lead, you’d be up there instead.”
Hoseok simply hums, acknowledging Yoongi. Probably agreeing that it's true in his head.
“Jin!” Hoseok calls up ahead, pulling Seokjin back towards the tail end rather than the front. Yoongi watches as he turns, as he lets his footsteps slow to allow for Yoongi and Hoseok to catch up.
Yoongi feels Hoseok’s hands on his shoulders, forcing him up in front, a big heart-shaped smile on his lips, “This one’s thinking too much. Calm him down.”
“Yah. Stop it.” Yoongi tries to shrug off the younger, but fails miserably. Hoseok’s grip is tight, his fists massaging the flesh, “That’s not his job.”
The conversation feels easy. Too easy, for the current conditions. Zfor the way Yoongi is feeling. He doesn’t fully feel like he deserves their care.
“Aish! What are you talking about! It’s what I was recruited for!” Seokjin huffs, a fake glare directed at Namjoon’s back steady across his features.
“Receuited?” Yoongi almost wants to laugh, “Not the story I heard.”
As much as Yoongi likes to feign disinterest, he certainly does not miss the colouring of red rising to Seokjin’s ears. The corners of his hips curl, already completely aware the elder is going to go on one of his tirades.
Cute. Seokjin is cute.
“Yah!” The elders whisper raises a hair, his lips pouting out a bit more as his words increase in pace. “That brat wouldn’t leave me alone— what did you expect me to do?! He wasn’t even in my department—“
Yoongi shakes his head, eyes staring at the ground. Yoongi doesn’t even try to deny the expression is out of fondness. “You trying to let the whole forest know we’re here?”
“I—“ Seokjin pauses, eyes going wide as he realises just how loud he was getting. His ears get just a bit darker, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, the eldest in the pack just clears his throat, standing a bit straighter. “What were we discussing?”
The corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirks, “How Namjoon pursued you for years before you gave into him.”
“Other than that.”
He shrugs, not really remembering. He wasn’t paying much attention, more so looking for a distraction.
“Ah,” The weight of Seokjin’s arm is dropped over Yoongi’s shoulder, his head shaking along with the addition. “That’s right. You were thinking too hard. Is it being out here?” There's a slight pause before Seokjin continues, “You don’t need to think about back then anymore.”
He wishes it was that easy.
Hoseok’s echo of the past blinks fresh in his mind— ‘Live in the moment with me.’ That’s what Hoseok had said back then.
Seokjin’s smile feels warm when it’s directed just at Yoongi, “Just let hyung take care of it, okay? We’ll be home soon.”
Now he is sure his heart is moving at a faster pace than before.
Hyung.
Yoongi never used those sort of honorifics with Seokjin— it just wasn’t in the nature of their relationship. The elder never outwardly seemed to care, anyway, other than in half-assed jokes. It’s only in times like these that it felt like it mattered.
Suddenly, Seokjin’s face loses all sense of peace, a cold mask of stone falling over it at the exact same time his body freezes in place, the hike coming to a close. Namjoon’s hand in the air being the direct cause.
Well, it was nice while it lasted. It is time for action now.
Namjoon's fingertips curl towards his palm in a silent instruction to lower their frames closer to the ground. The slow, controlled approach to the house already having been planned out since the night before.
Namjoon sends a glance towards the pack’s general, signalling the change of power between them, Hoseok taking over direction.
Yoongi follows it silently without question, waiting for Hoseok’s motion to continue the pursuit forward. He’s always been in awe of the way Hoseok is able to direct everything, to make the motions of a unit seem fluid and conjoined rather than just heaping bodies following orders.
It only takes a glance from Hoseok before Namjoon is moving– the pack alpha gliding through the underbrush as he makes his way around the back of the cabin where he is meant to be stationed in case you try to make a quick exit from the rear.
Yoongi’s job is a lot more simple than the rest of theirs, he is only meant to be a lookout. Honestly, he’s thankful for it. He’s not sure he could manage much more upon seeing you again. Upon seeing the new conditions of your home.
A few seconds pass, a soft cooing whistle from Hoseok along with the tilt of his head telling Yoongi it’s his turn to move. He does as ordered, moving up from his squat, though certainly not returning to full height as he takes a light jog through the underbrush. Only settling himself down when he finds the angle he was looking for.
Checking left, checking right– yeah, here will do just fine. He can see your front door, as well as both sides of your house. He’ll be able to spot you if you try to make it through a window. With fewer guys, it might be a little more difficult to catch you, but Yoongi knows Hoseok enjoys the chase.
… He hopes it doesn’t come down to that, but if he does, he’ll try his best to comfort you even if he isn’t the best at it.
Carefully, Yoongi lowers himself down to the forest floor, pulling the gun off his shoulder right along with the action. He clicks the legs of it down, lowering himself to his stomach to check the view.
Just as he suspected, it’s perfect. He can see everything. Will definitely be able to spot you if you try to move.
Fucking hell. Those goddamn assholes broke most of your windows– he can only assume they weren’t like that before.
It isn’t long before Hoseok and Seokjin come into view, their bodies doing similar low jogs to the ones Yoongi just performed himself. Though their angle was towards the door– if you were here, they were going to get to you first.
Yoongi shakes his head, forcing the jealousy out of his gut. It’s fucking stupid. There isn’t any guarantee you’re still here, anyway. Yoongi knows he would have cleared out first thing if it was hi–
His breath stops in his throat, his head raising from his site. Pupils darting around the scene in front of him.
Fuck. Fuck. No, no no. Why is this happening now? Why?
Everything should be fine. Everything is going smoothly. Namjoon should be positioned around the rear of the building by now, Hoseok and Seokjin are counting down in front of your door, ready to make their move. Yoongi is keeping an eye out as he lays against the forest as Hoseok’s hand raises, starting from 5. There are no zombies around, nor other people that Yoongi can smell.
So why why why why why is this happening right now?
Why is something wrong?
That same sensation that settled over him yesterday has returned at a ten-fold.
Yoongi feels an overwhelming sense of dread in his gut. Worse than he’s felt in a decade.
Panic starts to take over before he’s able to calm it down, his body rising to a stand. Something shakes against his thigh, but he can’t comprehend it. Not when he knows something is about to go wrong, but he doesn’t know what yet.
The universe had to curse him with the ability to know, but not with the ability to do anything about it before it’s too late.
His legs are moving before his mind can catch up, his body rushing towards the door to stop them. He can’t breathe, he can’t think. Words are willing themselves to leave him. They have to regroup, they would understand. They trust him. They trust his judgment.
Just a little bit further. A little bit further.
He should have said something.
The last of Hoseok’s fingers fall, Seokjin’s shoulder slams into the door, breaking it from its hinges. He thinks another figure swoops in, but he isn't really sure.
The entire world has just become red.
Yoongi, he can’t move. He can’t do anything. The world stops rotating on its axis, everything moves to a standstill right along with Yoongi’s form. He’s positive things are happening around him, but he can’t process a single one. He can’t.
One second, everything is red. The next, it’s white.
He can’t hear anything, he can only feel red hot pain blossoming in his gut as something hits him. As he is tossed backwards several feet.
The trees quake due to the force.
Boom.
It doesn’t take Jeongguk long to get to the truck– or maybe it does. He doesn’t remember half of the journey.
He remembers splitting off from the pack, Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind him. He remembers hearing something reminiscent to a giggle beyond that was similar to the ones in his dreams. Remembers deciding that they meant he was on the right track to find you, that his alpha would never steer him wrong.
He didn’t talk at all the entire journey there, staying focused on the prize. There isn’t time for any distractions. He needs to see if you’re at the truck, then rush over to the cabin in case you’re there instead. He needs to hold you, tell you that you’re safe now, and bring you home.
Simple enough. There isn’t really much to do but actually do it. He can stop fantasizing about you once you’re actually in his arms. Maybe then the wolf inside of him will finally settle.
He just wants to breathe you in. For you to build a nest in his room.
He promises he won’t go in it! Not until you give him permission to. But just knowing you feel safe enough around him, safe enough around his scent, shit he wants it more than anything else.
He even has the perfect corner picked out for you already, he’s cleared out space in his closet, too, if you’d rather go there. Sure, he did that forever ago when he still remembered your face, but he’s been keeping it open ever since. He’ll keep it open forever waiting for–
A large hand tugs at the back of his shirt, halting him in his advance forward. The heat of it is almost blinding, but Jeongguk doesn’t let himself get distracted. Of course not, he’s an alpha on a mission.
A haphazard glance over his shoulder is the only thing he offers, finding Taehyung standing there, Jimin still quite a ways away, keeping himself separated. Hm. He’s been like that since yesterday, keeping himself a bit more closed off.
Good. He should feel bad, even if it was a mistake. Even if Jimin didn’t know you were his.
Another tug and Jeongguk is brought back to the moment again, a grunt signalling from his throat as a question meant to ask Taehyung what he wants.
Taehyung’s tongue comes out to lick at his bottom lip lazily, his eyes moving from their stare on Jeongguk to farther ahead on the path. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Taehyung wants him to look, too.
His head turns back to the main trail, vision narrowing.
Fuck. He didn’t notice that.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Jeongguk’s heart swells, hope filling him to the very brim. Butterflies already dancing in his gut as his eyes go wide, as he feels a gentle heat curve into his cheeks.
Footprints. There are footprints on the same path they’re following now.
If Taehyung’s insistence is anything to go by, shit, it means your scent still dots the trees, too. Means that recently you followed the same path Jeongguk trails now. That you might just be living in the very truck Jeongguk is called towards now.
You– are you really waiting at the truck for him?
God, his entire being in inflating. His alpha is howling at him to go get you– that something as perfect as you shouldn’t be living out here. You shouldn’t be subjected to living in your truck because of what his idiot mates did.
Jeongguk’s legs are moving faster than before– he doesn’t really know when his pace picked up, but he knows the others are close to follow. 3 pairs of heavy thuds are marking up the forest floor, along with the sound of clanging guns against shoulders.
Within a few minutes he’s there. He’s standing in front of something you call your own.
It takes his breath away. Of course his omega would drive something cute like this– it makes perfect sense for you. Even if he doesn’t know you well yet, he’s sure of it. Oh, or wait… maybe you only use this one cause it’s convenient? Maybe another vehicle style suits you better?
He’ll get you a hundred cars, if you want. That way you can know what all of them feel like. It’ll feel so good to provide for you.
He moves in without really thinking, stalking towards the car, his noise unable to stop itself from the constant sniffing, attempting to weed out your scent from the rest of the woods. It’s difficult for him to, if he’s being honest. He always gets overwhelmed when so many different odours surround him, but he tries for you anyways.
He thinks he gets some of it, something that smells like beta– he knows better, he knows that even if you smell wrong, you’re still an omega– with hints of eucalyptus. Like some kind of herb used for healing, if he were to guess.
He frowns.
Now, standing only a few feet away from your truck, away from the source, he can tell it’s at least a day old. There isn’t anything that smells more fresh, there’s no sign of life within the cabin even with how forgetful he was at the volume of his approach.
It isn’t his fault though! He knows he was supposed to be quiet just in case but you distracted him. It doesn’t look like it matters anyway, you’re clearly nowhere to be found.
Jeongguk’s shoulders drop– all that hope that had been welling up drifts out. A laboured sigh from Jimin behind him, along with a kick to something– when Jeongguk turns his head, he identifies it as a fishing net with brush interlaced with the rope– signals that the others are sure of the same thing.
“She’s not here.” Even though Jeongguk is on better terms with Jimin than Yoongi, he still would rather not hear him talk right now. It’s not really any fault of his own, but stating the obvious when it’s clear Jeongguk is already irritated? When he can clearly see that you’re not here? It just makes Jeongguk’s teeth clench together a little tighter.
“I can see that.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, one hand closing around the passenger cabin handle. The muscle in his arm straining in preparation for it to resist the movement, for the door to jerk back.
It doesn’t. It’s unlocked.
Jeongguk grunts as he stumbles just slightly, not enough to cause worry or for him to actually fall, but enough for his eyes to go wide. One hand reaching to steady himself on the top of the interior doorframe. His shoulders hunching just slightly while a small, growled ‘fuck’ slips from the back of his throat.
Thank god you aren’t here. That would’ve looked totally uncool.
He grunts, forcing himself to stand straight and only give half checks to his right and left to re-confirm your absence. Even if he wants to see you, he doesn’t want to look so lame. “We’re still checking. Maybe she left something to say where she’s going.”
“Or maybe she’s at her house.” Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, the back of his throat itching with a warning growl that wants to be let through. Didn’t Jimin hear Joon? Jeongguk is in charge, he shouldn’t be–
Jeongguk hears a sniffing sound right next to his ear, distracting him. It’s Taehyung taking the chance to scent the inside of the cabin, he guesses. Doesn’t really know what the other is looking for though. All he can smell is a slightly distressed undercurrent to your beta– it’s okay, he knows what you actually are, even if your scent is trying to lie to him– scent, most significantly clinging to the bag lying right across the passenger seat in a heap.
His frown deepens. Probably those two that made you smell like that. Made you scared with no one around to comfort you. There is a 0% chance Jeongguk is going to feel less bitter about it any time soon.
In the back of his head, Jeongguk realises the sniffing has stopped
He doesn’t offer Jimin any kind of response, instead focusing on the bag. Maybe you had left a map in there? Some supplies? Maybe just anything that would make him feel closer to you?
He should take it, right? That way, when you come home, you won’t be missing whatever's inside.
His lips purse just slightly, head nodding in agreement as his hand reaches out to grab it.
Well, he was grabbing it. Now, he’s on the forest floor, his head banging against the surface. Taehyung on top of him, his head pressed into Jeongguk’s throat, not even thinking about letting him up.
The growls begin to leave Jeongguk instantly, a second nature swelling up to the top.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of me!” He still won’t let up. He’s keeping Jeongguk pinned with everything he has. Jeongguk can’t see Jimin either. Can only feel the pounding in his head and shoulders from being throttled to the ground.
Is this a fucking coup or something? Were they just waiting to get Jeongguk alone so he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore?
Jeongguk’s growls increase in volume, his limbs thrashing to try and get out from underneath Taehyung. He can’t believe this. He can’t believe they would fucking try something like this.
“Bomb.” Taehyung’s panicked baritone sends a lightning bolt through Jeongguk’s spine. He’s not fighting anymore. “Bomb inside. Bomb in bag. Don’t touch. Don’t touch! Can smell it! Intentional! Bomb! Don’t touch! Don’t!”
There’s…? You left a…?
Jeongguk looks back towards the car, his entire face morphing into that of complete disbelief.
You were trying to protect yourself… did you…? They said they didn’t see your car yesterday.. The covering was pulled off to the side, making the truck noticeable. Your footprints were in a clear line in the mud when you could just have easily veered off the beaten path, covered up your trail.
This was on purpose. You were trying to protect yourself if Jimin and Taehyung came–
What would have happened if Taehyung wasn’t there?
Jeongguk’s blood runs cold.
Joon doesn’t have a Taehyung at the house.
His mates can’t smell if the same trap has been laid just beyond the door.
Jeongguk shoves Taehyung off of him, adrenaline pumping through his veins. A newfound strength adorning his features as he manages to rattle the big puppy off. His frame rolling onto its stomach, reaching for the radio in his belt loop as he looks towards the direction of your cottage, his pupils shaky.
“Joon– Joon! There was a bomb in the truck! Abort the pursuit! Abort it!” His voice is yelling, crackling as it bounces through the radio.
Time feels like it’s extending itself, 30 seconds morphing into half an hour as he waits for a response.
There is none.
Shit. Shit. Shit! Shit! SHIT!
Jeongguk bolts upright, forgetting about the car, leaving it in the past while his mates are in danger in the present. “Fuck! Go! We have to go now!”
His pheromones, the same ones Joon used last night are unintentionally leaking from his pores, his body already beginning to rush through the tense trees. His head is spinning– he doesn’t know if the others followed. Only that he has to get to the rest of his mates before, before–
The sound rattles the trees, a deep ball of red rising above them.
Jeongguk freezes, his mind blank as he stares towards the distance in awe.
If it wasn’t his mates you were targeting, he would think you’re incredible. But right now, you’re not a thought in his mind. He’ll be upset with himself later over that fact. The fact of the matter, he knows where his bonds lie. He knows how much they’re in pain.
You didn’t know it was them. You don’t know it’s your soulmates. You’re just so scared, just so… everything hurts. His body is on fire. 4 spots across his form are radiating a pain he’s never felt before.
It hurts so bad.
So bad.
He wants to crumple to the floor. He wants to sob. He doesn’t know what to do.
“Get a fucking hold of yourself!!” Oh, Jimin’s screaming at him. He wonders when that started. When the shorter of the two grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him, when the look in his eyes became so deadly that they lost all of their spark.
The slap to his face stings, but he’s thankful for it. It finally brings him back to the moment, finally forces him to do what he needs to do.
“Stupid purebred! Fucking move! You’re useless to them if you can’t even do that!” Jimin’s shouting should sting, but it doesn’t in the slightest. He knows the words are true.
Jeongguk is running again, faster than he thinks he’s run in his entire life. He doesn’t really remember the rest of the interaction with Jimin, his memories feel jumbled. He knows at one point Jimin began dragging him towards the house, then he remembers overtaking Taehyung on his own while running.
The sight he sees when he finally reaches the cabin is one he’ll never forget.
He’s so lucky he’s never had the experience of his mates being in abject danger before. He doesn’t know if he could ever take feeling like this again.
The house, what's left of it, is up in flames. Wood panels have been blown off the side, half of the covered porch has caved in upon itself.
His chest heaves as he finally spots his pack. His soulmates. The ones he loves the most in the world. Namjoon’s form is on top of Seokjin and Hoseok’s bodies, looking like he pushed them out of the way just in time. Wood scattered debris lays around them still burning bright, though none directly on top.
A whizz of air passes by Jeongguk, Jimin’s shorter form running past him in the direction of Yoongi.
Yoongi.
Jimin is hauling a piece of burning wood off Yoongi’s stomach, his hands shaking his shoulders. His voice is yelling, but Jeongguk can’t really hear it. At some point he began to move, too. His body acting for him while his mind remains scattered.
His arms haul Namjoon off of the others, it’s clear all of them are injured– they’ll need to get medical attention when they get home. Seokjin, as much as he wants to, likely won’t be in the state to provide it. Jeongguk will yell at him if he tries.
Taehyung frame finally joins Joengguk too, following his lead in grabbing Seokjin instead, propping his body up rather than continuing to let him lay against the forest floor. From Jeongguk’s extremely limited medical knowledge, he knows his knee looks bad. But so does Hoseok’s shoulder. And god, Jeongguk has never been more thankful for the fire-resistant lining of the gear they wore today. He can’t imagine what the state of Namjoon’s back would be without it.
“Hyung! Hyung!” Jeongguk hears his voice, but he doesn’t remember willing it to sound. He finds himself in the same place as Jimin, his hands shaking the pack alpha's shoulders, trying to wake him from his passed out state.
Fuck. If only he was faster getting to the truck, if only Taehyung was able to tell him sooner none of this would have happened! He would have been able to tell them and, and, and–
“”M fine.” Jeongguk feels air enter him for the first time at the sound of Joon’s voice, even if it does sound a little weak. When Joon wheezes, his heart still pangs, “‘M fine. No one died. Take care of the others, they need it more.”
Jeongguk has never wanted to sob more in his life from relief.
The relief is short-lived when his eyes shift towards Seokjin being coddled by Taehyung.
Hoseok has propped himself up, too. He’s looking off in the distance.
He’s smiling.
You know, when Hoseok said he wasn’t interested in having an omega, you didn’t have to go and be such a fucking brat about it.
Yeah, yeah. Sure. Whatever. He was going to let his packmates have their new little toy until they got bored of it– he didn’t mind. Pretty pussy is pretty pussy, and alphas have their urges. Hoseok has never minded sharing a beta between a few of them for a night in the past, though that stopped when Jimin joined and started killing them.
Hoseok still didn’t really care.
He didn’t have any loyalties to them. Didn’t wanna bite them. They were just for fun.
If the youngest wanted a new pet, he wouldn’t deny him. He bets he would look cute staring at you like you were the world. Teetering after you while Hoseok had his.. Fun.
He wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure of playing with you, too. Again, pretty pussy.
And sure, Hoseok never really cared much for the second gender that seems so– his upper lip wants to curl– mystifying, almost like mythical creatures with their decline. He remembers even back in school when he was learning about them, being bored out of his mind.
Everything about them just seemed so boring.
Helpless.
Culling.
Too much work for what? Something that just likes to sit around the house all day pretty? God, sounds like his fucking nightmare.
Hoseok has always thrived on the exciting. On whatever could get his blood pumping the fastest.
It’s what Namjoon promised him. The alpha never did disappoint.
Months ago, when Namjoon first came to him about the idea of getting an omega, Hoseok thought that it might be the first time he would. He never expected a desire so… simple, baseline… traditional, from the pack alpha. He agreed, sure, but he didn’t expect anything from it. Thought that the alpha might finally be becoming boring.
He should be admonishing his past self for ever doubting him, but his present self feels high as a kite.
This is certainly a motherfucking treat.
Even with the pain radiating from his shoulder socket– it’s definitely popped out– he doesn’t deny it. His tongue, despite its pain from biting through the meaty flesh during the blast, runs over his teeth. Copper tang in every breath he breathes.
Awwwww, and you planned it all yourself, huh? Laid out a little bomb to catch the wolves in a trap? What an adorable little doe, thinking you could be big.
He raises himself up on his forearms, flinching a little at the weight put onto his shoulder. He should be screaming from it now, right? That’s what anyone else would do. His cock is hard.
“Hyung! Hyung!” Shit. He really can’t hear now. Most of it just rings. Call it love the way he was still able to hear Jeongguk through it. Whatever. It’ll come back soon. He’s got other things to focus on.
His eyes continue to scan the tree line, looking for something. He’s not sure what.
He’ll find out soon.
Ha, you really did a number on all of them, huh? Did alllllllll of this just for them? Wow, you must really care. You must really want Hoseok to think you’re worth it, huh? That you’re better than all those other little omegas out there?
You want him? That's the message you were trying to send, huh? That you want a chase?
You’re fucking lucky Hoseok loves them. You want him to love you, too? Are you ready for something like that? You really think so?
His lips crack open, a splash of red coating the inside edge. Another trail of blood running down his cheek from where he nosedived into the dirt.
You wanted his attention? That’s why you pulled this bratty little stunt? Well now you have it.
He sees a glint of light in the distance, way beyond the trees. Light reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, huh? Cute.
His smile grows, blood on his teeth. The taste of copper still coming through on his punctured tongue. His canines have never been more excited to bite.
Found you, baby.
Let’s play red riding hood.
“Boom.”
Your voice is soft, cusping just on the edge of the wind. Certainly nowhere near as loud as the sound that just permeated the forest, but felt as though it was even greater than it. A beautiful, radiating fire lighting the trees in the distance, a new glow.
On your face rests a satisfied, self serving smile.
You, and your predictions, had been right. They came back.
Now, there was no way you could be certain it was the same alphas that came to destroy you yesterday, of course not. It would be silly to completely presume but… it was nice to think it was, anyway. Had your legs feeling lighter as they rest against the wooden edge of the fire escape, your body slumped against the high-back stool that you just so happened to find in the fire tower.
Ha. Fire tower. Ironic.
Either way, you knew they would be back, and now they knew the consequences of doing such a thing, even if it is a pity the second bomb hadn’t gone off alongside the first.
The corner of your lips quirk a little higher, hand finally reaching to grab the binoculars from their place hanging against the chair. The cool metal raising to your eyes, allowing you to see even more of the beauty you had just created.
Mmm, the view isn’t too much better– you suppose you did walk pretty far– but still. The act of seeing everything is divine. Your house, the place you had crafted for years, may now be in shambles, but so are the alphas. Poor things.
Well, you’ll build your life back better, anyway. Every new start has become more and more easy. Lessons have taught you the proper steps, especially the steps to properly disappear. That everyone should have the tools and the knowledge to make an out if need be.
Your bottom lip perks out in a bit of a mocking pout, head tilting to the side as the fire begins to grow. It won’t make it far, you know that. The conditions aren’t great for it to actually spiral, but it feels prophetic almost. It feels perfect.
Leave no witnesses.
Mhm, and after they saw your nest, you knew you had to. Fixed up the house to make it look like you were planning on trying to stay, left your car uncovered as a second honeypot. Disabled your trip wires to make it seem like you didn’t know what you were doing. Packed all the suppressants you could. Made sure to leave a little trail to each.
Agitated clucking sounds from your left, drawing you out of your thoughts. The binoculars leaving your eyes as your head twists down towards her, instead.
Ah. Of course, there was Cheryl, too.
To be honest, you tried to leave her. To let her go back to the woods and live with the wild flock but… she wouldn’t stop following you.
Pack has to stick together, you suppose.
“Shhhh, shhh shh…” Your fingers slowly stroke down Cheryl's back, her plumage puffed up from the noise that rang throughout the forest. “You gotta be quiet. They could be watching us back.”
You stand from your spot, moving back towards the interior of the little fire tower. One hand scooping up Cheryl from her tummy, the other slinging your pack over your shoulder. A continued soft hushing leaving as you walk.
You have no plans of unpacking, you’d be leaving this location soon enough.
A small buzzing sensation runs through your entire being, the aftereffects of your successful plan still migrating through every one of your nerves, lighting each up like little stars in little galaxies.
Your lips curl once again, little sharpened canines hanging from below your upper lip, the corner of your smile tweaking upwards. “Well, if they’re still alive, that is.”
chapter 4 <- index -> chapter 6
⌬ : notes:
"oh, these weren't homemade. they were made in a factory. a bomb factory."
🧍♀️
ha..haha.. right guys?
*a tomato is thrown at me*
DAMN! Fine! Lemme just pack my shit and--- lmaooooo I'm joking!! Seriously though, I am desperate to hear what you guys think about this chapter. What I have been teasing for awhile has finally kicked off!! Like i said, reader still had a few things up her sleeve. She's crafty, huh? Either way, it isn't too much longer before she meets the guys!! it should be happening next chapter, isn't that exciting? It is to me!!
I am desperate to hear all of your thoughts on this chapter-- it really is my favourite one that I've written so far. Especially now that we have 6/8 povs unlocked for the main cast... mwahahah, hoseok is certainly a treat, isn't he? I have full confidence you will either hate him, or think he is entirely too hot (i am of the later group lmao, I know what I am) (a freak, if that wasn't clear LMAO)
Jeongguk too, with how desperate he is to have you :'< poor guy. Plus a look into the way he joined thep pack ?! Either way!! As always, please let me know any and all of your thoughts, I absolutely love hearing them!! Everything coming together, and the objects set in motion are rolling super fast now, even if it doesn't totally seem like it yet.
Ahhh, anyway, this is entirely too long! As always, thank you for reading and falling into the story of summer rain just like I have!!! We have officially hit 100 pages in my google doc! See you guys when the next chapter finishes out!! MWAH!!!
Summary: When your neighbor Jin is dealing with a leaky pipe in his kitchen, you rush to his aid. But oh no, now you're both soaked... Guess what happens next.
Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, cheesy barely there plot that's straight from some 90s porno, reader is a bit shy, based on Jin's only scandal (he has a horse c*ck), comedy, first time together, heavy make out, oral (both receiving), PiV, protected sex, bit of dirty talk where Jin is still a comedy king as always, Jin being very sweet even though he is so big that you can see MC's stomach bulging from the outside :)
A/n: Inspired by Jin's recent habit of exposing his stomach. Which I approve of. Heavily.
Wordcount: 4.8k
Masterlist
It’s Saturday afternoon and you just sat down on your couch, strawberry matcha latte in one hand, your phone in the other. That drink got popular for a reason and since you finally gave in and tried it yourself, you’ve been indulging in it almost every other day. It might be partially due to the hot weather, but your new obsession even dethroned your long time favorite, a dirty chai latte. Now instead of having to replace your chai syrup every month, you keep pureed strawberries in your fridge.
You shuffle back on the sofa, cozying into the pillows behind you, ready to aimlessly scroll on your phone for a while.
A sudden loud thump, followed by a hissing sound and cursing makes you almost drop your cup. God damn, you almost spilt the matcha on yourself and the couch. The noise undoubtedly comes from your next-door neighbor. You would have strangled Jin had he made you soil your new cushions.
He was actually the one to put you on to the strawberry matcha. Jin’s always in for a fruity treat, never one to care about being judged for his ‘girly’ drink choices. Just yesterday he knocked on your door, as you were getting ready to go out with some girlfriends, to borrow some of your strawberry mush. With a pout and a big sigh too, as if he’d die weren’t you to provide him with the missing ingredient for his matcha. Jin is big on dramatics, that’s also why hanging out with him is always a fun time. You think he might actually implode if he doesn’t do anything dumb for a few minutes.
So, what the hell is he doing now, causing all this ruckus on a sunny Saturday afternoon?
Jin’s voice keeps thundering through your shared wall. “Fuck, fuck, shit, no!” you hear him yelling. Well, now you’re worried. Did he hurt himself?
You sigh and put your drink on the coffee table, already mourning the relaxing day you had planned to enjoy. With urgency in your step, you hurry out of your door, not even bothering to put on shoes. You know Jin never locks his door when he’s home, a habit you’ve scolded him for multiple times. Now though, you are glad about it as you fling open his front door.
“Jin? Are you alright? What the fuck?” you call out.
“Kitchen!” he just yells in reply, and you scurry further into his apartment, following the loud clamor.
Your worry immediately dissolves into incredulous laughter when you spot Jin. He’s on his knees in front of the open cupboard under his sink. The pipe is spraying water all over him with the pressure of a fucking fire hose.
“What the hell did you do?” you ask him, still snickering. He looks up at you, obviously trying to glare at you for laughing at his misery, but you can tell that there’s a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. Even in the worst situations imaginable, Jin is always keeping his spirits high. You always admired this about him, his endless optimism.
“Grab my sweater from the table,” he pleads, kneeling there in the relentless spray of his sink pipes, in a white shirt and some light blue cotton boxers.
Not trying to draw out his troubles, you move to take the hoodie that’s slung over the back of one of the dining chairs. Turning back to Jin, he waves you down to the floor next to him. You crouch and put the sweater towards the leaking pipe, trying to stop the fountain of water. The fucking cold water you realize as the stream hits you, immediately soaking your clothes. You shriek and now it’s Jin who’s laughing.
“The drain was blocked, I just tried to check what the problem was,” he chuckles while wiping his wet hair out of his face with the back of his hand.
“Did you empty the coffee grounds in the sink again?” you immediately accuse him. “I’ve told you not to do that!” This is not the first time his kitchen sink is mysteriously clogged.
“I might have,” he admits with a sheepish smile. You snort and lean towards him to nudge him with your shoulder, hands occupied trying to unsuccessfully stop the water from leaking. You are basically sitting in a puddle by now and the hoodie around the pipe is already soaked through as well.
Jin is now scrambling to get up from the floor, moving to finally turn off the kitchen’s water supply. You slump your shoulders in defeat, feeling useless as you cover the leak with the dripping sweater, but you’re huffing out a laugh while doing so. This is not how you imagined - or hoped - your weekend to go.
Suddenly, the water stops flowing and you sit back on your heels with a relieved sigh.
You hear footsteps and when you turn, Jin is standing in the kitchen door, scratching his neck. Now that the chaos has come to a stop, you finally look at him properly for the first time. He’s just standing there, water dripping off his body. Your eyes start to wander further down, from the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead, to his chest, where the white t-shirt is clinging to him, at this point completely see through from the involuntary shower. Damn, when did Jin start working out for his body to look like this? Absent-mindedly, you start nibbling on your bottom lip as your gaze lands on his very defined v-line, uncovered as the shirt has ridden up a little, revealing the skin above his boxers. When your eyes roam even further down, you gulp, almost choking on your own saliva. You can basically see his whole dick through the wet fabric, calling it an outline would be the understatement of the year. And dear god, is that one hell of a dick. Fuck, get a grip. You try to snap yourself out of ogling Jin when you start to imagine what his cock would be like hard if it’s already this impressive soft.
You shake your head to get rid of the thought and return your gaze to Jin’s face.
The corner of his mouth is pulled up into a smirk and you can tell he caught you drooling over his body.
“Hey, my eyes are up here,” he pouts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “At least take me on a date first, Jesus.” His fake frown only lasts a second - Jin was never good at keeping a straight face - before he chuckles.
You know he’s not actually offended but you’re still embarrassed, even though he managed to draw a little giggle from you with his dumb comment.
You drop your gaze to the puddle you’re kneeling in, mumbling more to yourself than him while doing so.
“Well, why’d you have to walk in here all indecent and wet?”
“You’re one to talk.” His reply makes you lift your head to find his eyes, not immediately grasping what he’s getting at now.
And, oh. He’s staring right back at you. With his mouth slightly agape, he’s eyeing you up and down. A cold shiver runs down your spine and suddenly you are very aware of what you are wearing. A white flowy dress. Which is not so flowy anymore in its wet state - it’s clinging to your curves instead now. Why, of all days, did you have to wear white today? With horror, you remember that you are also not wearing a bra. You look down to your tits and find your nipples sticking straight out through the translucent fabric, hardened from the cold. A bead of water is currently running down between your breasts and Jin's gaze is unabashedly following it.
With heat spreading up from your neck to your cheeks, you clumsily get up from your kneeling position. When you lock eyes with Jin for a moment, the tip of his tongue slips out and licks a droplet of water from his lip that’s dripped off his hair. You feel a familiar tightening in your abdomen and look away in shame, mortified by the fact that all it took for you to be turned on by your neighbor of 8 months was a leaking pipe. Maybe you should have listened to your friends and downloaded a dating app after your last relationship because this is ridiculous.
“Um, you should probably mop up this mess,” you mutter as you get up and try to move past Jin, your head lowered, eyes trained towards the floor. Well, he definitely should, because after just three steps, you slip in the puddle on the tiles and stumble until arms wrap around you and keep you from falling on your ass.
“You okay?” you hear Jin’s soft voice close to your ear. When the adrenaline of the almost-fall wears off, you find yourself pressed against him, his arms around your back holding you close.
Your breasts are squished against Jin’s chest and one of his legs ended up being wedged between yours. His heartbeat is synced to yours, going fast and hard.
“Yeah,” you breathe out with your forehead resting against his shoulder. “I’m fine.” Neither you nor Jin make any effort to move. It’s as if time has frozen and you’re stuck in his embrace, turning your cold and clammy bodies warm again.
His breath is fanning over the side of your face with each exhale and when you finally turn your head up to face Jin, he is, once again, already looking at you. This time, a shy smile is painted across his face. An unusual sight for you, but to be fair, the whole situation is new territory. Yes, you’ve hugged before, but only quickly and mostly in greeting or to say goodbye. You’ve never been flush against his body without an inch of space between you. You are very aware of the thigh between your legs too, applying slight pressure to your groin. It’s making your stomach flutter with each tiny movement of his leg as you’re standing there, holding on to each other. Consciously fighting the urge to rut against his thigh, you blink up at him through your lashes as one of his hands moves from your lower back up to your face and he pushes your hair behind your ear.
“You’re pretty when you’re flustered,” he whispers, his fingers still softly resting against your jaw. You could swear his leg moves against you with more intent as you feel your cheeks heat up at his words. Feeling shy, you nuzzle your face into the space where his shoulder meets his neck.
Not letting you evade his eyes, he gently lifts your head up again, cupping your face.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly, looking down at you.
All you manage is a nod.
When he bends down and his lips meet yours, the fluttering in your stomach intensifies and you sigh against him. Jin is softly slotting your lips together, the pads of his fingers caressing your cheek. He’s humming when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth and tug carefully. His tongue slips out and traces your lips, before licking into your mouth to meet the tip of your own tongue. It’s a sweet kiss, unhurried, but it has you in a frenzy nonetheless.
Your hands are holding on to Jin’s sides when his own palm moves to the back of your neck and the arm around your waist pulls you against him harder. You unintentionally rub over his thigh with your crotch when he presses you to him and you whimper into the kiss, surprised by the sensation. Your reaction has an obvious effect on Jin as he immediately licks into you with more urgency. His digits slowly wander down from your back to the curve of your ass. He doesn’t quite squeeze but firmly rests his hand there with splayed fingers.
At this point, you can feel Jin all over your body. He’s pressed into all your sensitive parts and your body is about to go up in flames. You can’t hold back and your hips start moving on their own accord, seeking stimulation where you need it most. Your obvious excitement isn’t lost on him. You can feel his mouth twist into a grin and his hand snakes down further and under the moist fabric of your dress. He properly grips the flesh of your ass now as if to guide your movement. His dick is twitching against your right leg, slowly filling out.
That’s when Jin breaks the kiss and pulls away from you a little.
“Are you alright with this?” he asks you with slight uncertainty in his eyes.
The sight is making you giggle. It’s not like you were just humping his leg from how horny he’s got you by just making out.
“Am I giving you the impression I’m not?” you ask him grinning with your head cocked to the side.
He just huffs out a laugh and you get up on your toes to catch his mouth in another kiss while he’s kneading your ass cheeks with both of his hands now. After a moment of your mouths tangled and bodies rubbing against each other, he peels away, breathing heavily.
“Let’s move out of this mess,” he smiles and playfully slaps your butt to get you moving into the direction of his bedroom.
With your naked feet you carefully trudge through the water still all over the kitchen tiles, producing squelching sounds with each of your steps. It’s making you laugh for some reason, your head feels airy and you giggle like a teenager as Jin leads you through the apartment.
Once inside the bedroom, he grabs your hand and spins you around, so you are back in his arms. He walks you towards the bed while placing kisses all over your face, neck and shoulders. When the back of your legs hit the bedframe, you go to plop down on the mattress but Jin stops you by picking you up with his arms under your thighs. He turns around and sits down himself, placing you in his lap in the process.
With your knees on either side of Jin’s legs, you grind down immediately, making Jin groan and fall back. His fingers are pressing into your sides while you roll your hips, gliding over Jin’s now hard cock still confined by his boxers. You giggle again, elated by the fact that he’s already so unraveled too.
You remember your wet dress in that moment and lift it up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Your initial coyness has completely dissipated. Although this is far from a normal situation between you, you feel at ease with Jin. The fact that the horniness is mutual might have played a part in that.
“Fuck,” you hear him breathe out from under you and when you look down, you see that he’s propped up on his elbows, watching. With his eyes darkened by hunger, he comes back up and catches one of your nipples in his mouth. You lift up on your knees to give him better access. His tongue is flicking over your hardened nub and he sucks before releasing your tit with a plop to kiss up your neck again, now gently rolling your nipple between his fingers instead. You bite back a whimper, but apparently you’re not doing a good job as you hear Jin tease you from where he’s attached to you.
“You’re gonna be all shy now? I'd love the feedback.”
You groan, but as his tongue runs over the skin of your throat and he latches on to mark you with bruises straight after, you erupt into goosebumps and finally let out a high-pitched whine. You are going crazy between the soft and harsh sensations, impatience gradually building up until you can’t take it anymore and you push Jin back down into the mattress.
Before you settle in his lap again, you grind down hard just once, eliciting a low moan, a stark contrast to his airy laugh from just a few minutes ago in the kitchen. Your fingers grip on to the moist fabric of his shirt and you slide it up until his stomach and chest are bare. You could already make out his abs through the white top earlier, but now, out in the open, the sight is making saliva gather in your mouth. With your gaze trained on his skin, your fingers splay across his torso, feeling the taught muscles beneath your touch. Your index finger traces from his abs to the line that’s leading from his side down into his boxers. It’s so fucking hot, you’ve always loved a good v-line and Jin’s is absolutely driving you insane currently.
His breath hitches when you don’t stop at the waistband of his underwear but instead start to peel it off of him while moving from his lap to get down on the ground between his legs. He lifts his hips up to help you pull the clingy fabric down his thighs until his dick slaps up against his stomach. Dear. God. That is the biggest cock you’ve seen in your life. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear Jin chuckle at the sight of you drooling over his dick with your mouth agape.
“Before you ask - no, I don’t need a license for that.”
He shuts right up though when you wrap your hand around his shaft, not wasting a second. You tug once before letting a big bead of spit drip down on the tip of his dick where it’s mixing with the precum already pooling there. You spread the slick around with your thumb, easing the glide of your palm when you start to slowly pump him. With each flick of your wrist Jin huffs out quiet hisses.
His dick looks so damn delicious between your fingers that you can’t resist leaning in and licking at the head. Jin’s thighs tense up when you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. You let your tongue swirl through his slit before carefully lowering yourself down on his length. There’s no way you’re getting him all the way in. You get about halfway down his shaft before you feel your gag reflex kick in so you move back up. His hands are gripping the sheets as you bob your head up and down. Just as you’re getting a good rhythm going, his fingers tangle in your hair and he gently peels you off his cock.
You look up at him, a string of saliva still connecting your mouth to his dick and he mutters out curse words at the sight.
“Come back up here,” he directs you and takes your hand to help you up the bed. You move to straddle him again, but once you’re on top of him, he grabs your hips and rolls you off his body onto your back.
He is sitting back on his heels next to you, his eyes roaming over your body.
“Beautiful,” he whispers before leaning over you and catches your mouth in a kiss. While his tongue is gliding against yours, he comes up on top of you, one knee between your spread legs and one of his hands finds its way between your thighs. His fingertips are trailing the seams of your panties, just ghosting over the soft skin where your pussy meets your inner thighs. You whine against his lips, you can’t take the teasing touches.
“P-Please,” you stutter.
“Hm?” he hums into another kiss, his fingers still not where you need them.
“Jin, please,” you almost beg. You can’t be arsed to think about how pathetic you sound; your composure has long crumbled to dust by now. “Touch me.” It comes out in nothing but a whisper, but it’s enough for Jin to finally comply.
His fingers press into your clothed pussy, the fabric is pushed in between your folds by the movement. Jin hums when he feels your arousal seeping through it.
“Did I make you so wet or was it the sink?” he wonders while his fingers rub up and down your labia, feeling the slick that’s soaked through your panties. “You’re dripping.”
He shuffles back to remove your underwear, lifting your legs up to slide them off and discard them on the floor. He places a soft kiss on your calf before lowering your feet back to the mattress. The shirt still bunched up at his chest follows suit as he slips out of it and throws it to the side.
Jin pushes your legs up into a bent position and spreads them with his hands on your knees. He gazes at your exposed pussy with droopy lids and blown pupils. “I want to taste you so bad,” he exhales before his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “Can I?”
“Yes, please,” you mutter and rest your head on the mattress as he leans in closer to your core. Your hand finds the back of his head while he slips his arms under your legs to pull you towards his face. It sends sparks through your body when his soft lips finally make contact with your pussy. He buries his face in your heat, his nose brushing against your pubic mound as he immediately licks between your folds. His tongue drags from your entrance up to your clit, not quite focusing on it yet though. He’s savoring the taste of your arousal, eating you out as if you were the juiciest fruit he’s ever gotten his mouth on to. He moans into your body while he’s working his tongue. He’s not in a rush to leave his place between your thighs anytime soon it seems. All you can do is gasp each time he makes contact with your clit, as he keeps increasing the pressure before finally giving all his attention to your most sensitive spot. He’s switched to harder flicks now, dragging you close to the edge with each pass.
With one hand in his hair and the other gripping the blanket you’re lying on, the coil in your abdomen finally snaps and your legs press close around his head, trembling. Your voice comes out in a high-pitched shaky moan as your back arches off the bed. Jin doesn’t stop until you basically melt into a puddle under his mouth. He detaches from your pussy just as you start to get overstimulated and moves back up to your face, caging your head in with his arms. He kisses you swiftly, before lifting himself back up.
“See how sweet you taste?” he asks you, looking down at you fondly.
Heat rises up your face and you have to avert your eyes, but you still reach up to stroke his arm next to your head.
Your eyes fall to Jin’s hard cock twitching between your bodies and your pussy clenches around nothing.
“Need you inside me,” you whisper, not quite meeting his gaze.
“Okay,” he breathes against your neck, leaving another trail of kisses down to your tits. He flicks his tongue over both of your nipples before he sits back up on his heels.
One of his hands is caressing your thigh, the other wraps around his cock and strokes a couple times before he reaches for his nightstand and fishes out a condom.
XXL, you can make out on the foil. Well, shouldn’t be a surprise, but it still makes you giggle in excitement. You can’t wait to find out how he feels inside you. Your pussy throbs, just as impatient as you are, so you grab for his leg, trying to urge him to hurry up.
He rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls the rubber over his length before giving it another tug. His eyes are locked on where he lines his cock up with your entrance then and he curses under his breath as he slowly watches it sink into you.
Without any prep, you feel your pussy stretch around him with every inch entering you and you whimper.
“Hurts?” he asks you when he notices your scrunched up face and halts his movement.
“A little,” you huff. “But in a good way. Keep going.”
Jin nods and you can tell he’s going slower than before, but he keeps pushing into you until he feels the resistance of your cervix and backs up an inch. He stills for a moment, looking into your eyes for any signs of discomfort. He pulls out a little before thrusting back in slowly. It’s a delicious drag against your inner walls as he goes in and out, the feeling eliciting moans from you each time.
He is biting his lip while watching his cock disappear inside you with every pump until he finally picks up pace and he falls forwards, head lowered now as he grunts synced with his thrusts.
You lock your hands behind his neck and your legs are wrapped around him, pulling him closer.
It doesn’t take long until his movements start to go a bit choppy and his breathing increases in speed. He sits back up again and places his hand on your lower abdomen. When your own palm follows his to your stomach, your eyes go wide. You can actually feel his cock bulging out from inside you. You press against it, making Jin lose his rhythm for a moment as he huffs out swear words again. You let your hand rest there, stunned by the new sensation. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs in tight circles that immediately make you clench around his cock. You didn’t realize how close to another orgasm you were already until his touch sends bolts of electricity through you.
You meet his thrusts with a lift of your ass, pressing yourself into his hand harder in the process as well. All you can feel is Jin, Jin, Jin. All over you, in you, even protruding from your insides. The room is filled with the nasty sounds of skin slapping against skin and your moans and grunts meddled together as he fucks into you. He’s going harder now, but you can tell he’s still trying to be careful. You wish he’d just let go. You could take it, you are sure.
“Gonna come,” he warns you before his hips start to stutter as his head shoots up with his eyes squeezed shut. His mouth hangs open as he releases inside you, every spurt of cum accompanied by loud, broken moans echoing through the room.
You look at him unraveling on top of you and the sight takes you over the edge too. With a gasp your pussy throbs, milking Jin through his own orgasm as you whimper, his thumb still brushing over your clit, dragging out your bliss. You throw your head back, panting, all your limbs tingling and twitching, just as Jin is on top of you, his orgasm slowly ebbing down. He finally collapses, his arms giving out, but he’s careful not to crush you, so he plops down next to you on his side. His chest is heaving as you turn to look at his blissed-out face. You reach out to stroke his cheek softly and he sighs into the touch.
He throws his arm around your middle after pulling off the condom to tie it and put it aside.
“Cuddle?” he asks you with a tired smile.
“Yeah,” you let yourself melt into his embrace and turn to face him. You feel him go slack against you, sighing happily. Blissful exhaustion starts to wash over you and your eyes slowly blink shut.
You doze off for a few minutes and when you open your eyes again, you nudge Jin’s shoulder with your forehead.
“Hey,” you wake him up. “We still have to deal with the mess in your kitchen.”
“Way to ruin the mood,” Jin pouts and then suddenly starts chuckling as if he’s just thought of something.
You turn your head up to raise an eyebrow at him before rolling onto your back.
“This is like the plot of the cheesiest porn ever,” he chortles. “Next time I’ll get stuck in the dryer I guess.”
You swat at him, but you can’t deny that he’s absolutely right. And you’d like a next time, you decide for yourself.
“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Jin suddenly asks, ripping you from your thoughts.
“What?” you ask him, smiling up at the ceiling.
“Strawberry matcha.” Jin sighs in content before he leans up on his elbow and looks down at your face. “You have some puree left?”
Masterlist
A/N: Thank you so much for reading :] Please consider reblogging or commenting if you enjoyed, or if you're shy, feel free to send us an anonymous ask! <3
mdni | taking nerd!kuna and frat!kuna's dorky triplet jin for a spin in a bathroom stall!
a/n: sequel to double vision <3 lovely art is by @winterrbluess !!
it wasn't like you were trying to go three for three on sleeping with triplets.
seriously!
how were you supposed to know you'd bump into your the third slice of your sorta boyfriend(s?) sibling trio when you were busy avoiding the other two?
it'd been awkward with both of them when your first time with ryo had devolved into him bickering with his brother while he was still buried inside you, demanding sukuna leave while he scoffed out something about having dibs on you.
it only ended when you got up, covering yourself with a blanket and rushing to get dressed as they both abruptly turned to asking how the fuck you could've thought they were same guy. hearing two nearly identical set of complaints at the same time, bitching about how they were soooooo different, it should've been obvious while they were both oblivious enough to miss how hard you were rolling your eyes as you snatched your shoes and phone before slipping past the play boy half-blocking the door.
you could still hear them fighting over you halfway down the hall, stopping the other from following you out, equally petty despite their preferences for parties or poems.
embarrassingly enough, it took you ten minutes to realize you'd left them in your room.
awkwardly wandering around after sitting on a bench to put your shoes back on, ordering yourself a ride share to a coffee shop off campus, somewhere they wouldn't think to come to. some place you could wait it out for a while until they cleared out.
you couldn't predict the future.
had no way to sense that you'd find another man with pretty pink hair sitting at your favorite table.
or that when a surprised little laugh escaped your mouth, his head would snap up, thin glasses sliding down the slope of his nose as his eyes locked onto yours. everything about his face was softer than his brothers. gentler somehow. still sharp, of course, still angular, but still some untouchable tenderness graced his features. head tilting to the side as his lips parted, "do we know each other?"
"um, no, not really," you answered, and you caught the brief flash of understanding crossing his confused face as his brows briefly knitted together before he exhaled.
"met my brothers then?" he asked, and you giggled again.
"that obvious?"
what wasn't, however, was that it would only take half an hour before he had you sitting on the bathroom sink, panties stuffed in his pocket as he messily bottomed out in your pussy. freely moaning into your mouth while you played with his hair.
jin was clumsier than both of his brothers combined.
but you liked how eager he was, how his thumb kept rubbing circles in your clit, practically begging you to cum as he fucked into you faster, totally clueless that you'd been with either of his siblings.
well, you suspected that he suspected it, but he didn't say anything.
"s-shit, princess," he groaned, hips halting in the middle of his next pump, struggling not to cum while you looped a loose strand of his hair around one finger.
princess was a new one.
and you didn't totally hate it either.
almost about to cum yourself as his thumb pressed down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, the bathroom door bursting open with nearly comical timing as your night was once again interrupted.
"jesus christ, dude, what the fuck?"
okay, yeah, understandable.
"what are you guys doing here?" jin flushed, hurrying to pull out and shoving his dick back in his jeans in half a second, cringing at how hard it was to fit all eight inches in - with the condom on.
"you left life 360 on, dickhead," sukuna snarled, glaring at his brother like he was considering if he could get charged for attempted fratricide for strangling him here. his dark eyes drifting to you, jaw locking at the sight of your thighs spread, your dress shoved up high on your thighs. "the hell are you doing with him?"
"fate?"
shrugging your shoulders as you felt three heated sets of stares sticking to your skin, sizing you up and trying to decide who would win if they attempted to seize you for themselves.
it seemed like the universe had decided you were stuck with one of them.
maybe even all of them.
reblogs + comments are always greatly appreciated <3
