Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2236320.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      J-Hope_|_Jung_Hoseok/Suga_|_Min_Yoongi, Jungkook_|_Jeon_Jungkook/V_|_Kim
      Taehyung
  Character:
      j-hope_|_jung_hoseok, Suga_|_Min_Yoongi, Rap_Monster_|_Kim_Namjoon, V_|
      Kim_Taehyung, jin_|_kim_seokjin, Jungkook_|_Jeon_Jungkook, Jimin_|_Park
      Jimin
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Alternate_Universe_-_Domestic, Advent
      Calendar_Drabble, Stress_Relief, CEO/Secretary, Crack, Sex_Toys, Praise
      Kink, Dirty_Talk, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Canon_Compliant, Age_Play, Dom/sub
      Undertones, Hair-pulling, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Consensual_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-01 Updated: 2014-09-04 Chapters: 4/17 Words: 6386
****** cognitive resonance ******
by shikae_(39smooth)
Summary
     seventeen day pwp writing advent. will be updated daily. requests
     originally here.
     pairings, warnings and tags will be updated with each drabble.
     edit: said i would update daily, but real life is being an ass, so
     i'm pushing everything a week or two forward. :'c
Notes
     # day one: for ynoogi
     prompt: YOONSEOK OFFICE AU/TENSE FUCKING FIANCE AU
     yoongi/hoseok | nc-17 | 1469 words
     this turned out more like almost-romantic, stress-relief fucking +
     hints of aftercare. oops. also because engaged!yoonseok i will die.
***** day one *****
 
 
He slips his hands into the lining of Hoseok’s coat and tugs it off; he curls
his fingertips into the loop of Hoseok’s tie and pulls it loose. Hoseok catches
his wrists, says his name, and lets Yoongi slowly steer him until his back hits
the wall. Hoseok looks stunning when he dresses up, when he puts on a suit and
tie for work, but Hoseok looks even better like this, half-disheveled, shirt
rumpled, hair falling into his face.
"I’m going to fuck you,” whispers Yoongi, into the curve of Hoseok’s shoulder,
a breath tucked away as a promise, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget
about everything that’s happened today, okay? You’re going to feel so good, I
swear to god.”
The buttons of Hoseok’s white shirt are undone with steady, deft fingers.
Yoongi coaxes a soft sound from Hoseok’s mouth when he presses his lips to the
base of Hoseok’s throat, hands continuing down to his belt, and then the zipper
of his trousers. “I want you to stop thinking,” murmurs Yoongi, and Hoseok
gives in, he gives in to Yoongi and everything he’s promising Hoseok, he gives
in to Yoongi and his warm hands, his hands are so warm, “I’m going to take care
of you.”
Their feet stumble towards the bed, this uncoordinated waltz that always turns
out perfect in the end. Tonight, Yoongi leads. One hand on Hoseok’s waist, the
other tucked around the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer. Yoongi pushes
Hoseok down gently, lays him across the bed, and takes his time with him.
Kisses along the line of his jaw, under the tired curve of his eye, across the
aslant slope of his nose. He could map out every last angle of Hoseok’s body
with his eyes shut. He does exactly that.
The littany falls, the prayer that repeats itself. Yoongi sucks bruises into
the curve of Hoseok’s hip, runs his teeth across the dip of his chest, drags
his tongue along the underside of his cock with all the care in the world. He
listens for the noises that Hoseok makes. He listens, for all the pleasure he
takes, that he takes away from this, can be summed up in the caress of Yoongi’s
name.
There is nothing to lose tonight, with the pace Yoongi has set. Everything
leading up to this moment, the harder desperation seeping through, in between
the cracks of held-back tension and collapsing stress. Hoseok wants to let it
go. Yoongi will let him.
He takes his time, Yoongi does. Leans into Hoseok, kissing him for all it’s
worth. He takes his time, and fulfills his promise. The slide is easy, but
Hoseok has been so wound-up this past week, to the point of breaking. Like
glass, almost, glass hovering over flame. Yoongi fucks him slow at first,
afraid almost, that Hoseok will break.
“Harder,” says Hoseok, breathless, soundless, and Yoongi braces a palm against
the headboard, pace building until Hoseok’s head is tipping back, mouth falling
open in a toe-curling moan. Hoseok will not break, Yoongi will not break
Hoseok. Yoongi hitches Hoseok’s legs over his shoulders and presses in further,
shifting the angle until Hoseok is whimpering, pleading, panting against
Yoongi’s mouth, “harder, god, please.” Break me, says Hoseok, break me and put
me back together again.
Yoongi curls two fingers around the base of Hoseok’s cock, and sucks Hoseok’s
tongue into his mouth. Hoseok is burning up, he’s burning up like there’s a
fire in his chest. Yoongi smooths the hair off his forehead with his free hand,
and fucks into Hoseok even harder, whispering the softest words he knows, in
contrast.I’ll take care of you, he exhales, as Hoseok falls apart right beneath
him, limbs trembling and heels digging into Yoongi’s back, looking for a way to
anchor him down, because he’s breaking, he’s breaking and he wants Yoongi to
take him apart until it’s all of Yoongi and nothing left of Hoseok.
“Yeah?” asks Yoongi, voice raw and accented, clasping one of Hoseok’s hands in
his. Their fingers curl together, so tight, so trusting. Are you sure, Yoongi
wants to ask, he always needs to ask, but Hoseok catches his gaze, and he is
sure. Hoseok is far past the point of answering, only capable of wordless,
keening sounds, but Yoongi knows he needs it, he needs it so much.
He looks beautiful, like this. Wrecked. Eyes barely able to keep themselves
open, pupils blown. His voice gets no rest, with each moan that slips out,
arching and stirring. Low syllables of Yoongi’s name, and drawn-out syllables
of nothing in particular. Hoseok could be speaking in tongues, even. Yoongi
only wants to hear one thing, though. Yoongi only needs to hear one thing.
“More,” says Hoseok, a garbled mess of words and little moans like hiccoughs
that teeter on the edge of becoming full-blown sobs, “please.” He tugs Yoongi
in and kisses him, messy, rough, more teeth than tongue and more desperate than
anything. “More.”
Yoongi fucks him on his knees, holds him up with one arm around his waist, and
whispers for him to hold on when Hoseok’s knees threaten to give out, legs
sliding further apart on the sheets slippery with lube, when Yoongi drives one
hard thrust after another. Yoongi won’t touch him yet. Yoongi won’t let him hit
that edge just yet. Hoseok doesn’t want Yoongi to let him, not yet.
He feels nothing else but the heat that surrounds him. Hoseok is crumbling
away, bit by bit, and Yoongi is falling. But their hands find each other again.
Yoongi threads their fingers together, grasping at the sheets, tightening until
his knuckles turn white. They are both so closer, but Hoseok whispers for him
to go even harder, and Yoongi doesn’t know if he even can, anymore.
Hoseok comes when Yoongi fists a hand around his cock, and strokes him through
it so hard that his limbs give out completely, collapsing. Yoongi comes at the
same time Hoseok does, spurred on by the sudden tightness around his cock, and
the sound that Hoseok makes when he tips over the edge, and drags Yoongi along
with him.
They catch their breaths, slowly. Yoongi gently flips Hoseok onto his back.
There is a moment where Yoongi just looks at him, nothing else. The weariness
that had lined Hoseok’s eyes has disappeared, and has been replaced with a
different sort of weariness, the kind that comes sated and sleepy and
satisfied.
Yoongi wipes him down, pulls the sheets off, and chucks them into a corner.
Laundry can always be dealt with in the morning. “Hoseok,” he says, voice
completely hoarse, and Hoseok blinks, and smiles. It is the smile Yoongi knows
like the absent song that his fingers tap out by heart, when he isn’t paying
attention. “Hey. You alright?”
“Great,” whispers Hoseok, and Yoongi kisses him softly, gathers him into his
arms and cards his fingers through Hoseok’s hair comfortingly, the way he
always likes it. The intensity is what drives Yoongi, whenever they fuck, but
he lives for this: the quiet moment after, when they are both boneless and
unwinded, when it is Hoseok in his arms, and just the dim light from the
corner, illuminating their features. “You’re perfect.”
“Talking about yourself, there?” Yoongi takes Hoseok’s hand in his, presses a
kiss to his knuckles, and one more, the lightest kiss possible, to the gold
band around his finger. “You better not worry about work when we’re on our
honeymoon,” he murmurs, and Hoseok lets out a quiet laugh, “we’re going to fuck
so much we won’t have time to do anything.”
“We should just get all of it out of the way first, then,” says Hoseok softly,
teasingly, “then we’ll have more time to see the sights.”
“Just a week.” Yoongi sighs. “That’s not enough time.” He wants to have Hoseok
all to himself for as long as he can.
Hoseok kisses his cheek. “We’ll make use of every single second, then.” He
thumbs over Yoongi’s cheek lightly. There are words, and then there are things
unsaid: the movements of hands and the softening of gazes and propinquity,
sweet propinquity; the proximity that closes in, until there are nothing more
than bare inches between them. “Thank you.”
Yoongi cups Hoseok’s face with a hand, a fond smile spreading across his face,
and kisses him once more, before reaching over to switch the light on the
dressing table off with a soft click.
 
 
***** day two *****
Chapter Notes
     # day two: for parkourdeer
     prompt: VKOOK W CEO!TAEHYUNG AND SECRETARY AND/OR ENSLAVED INTERN
     JEONGGUK
     jungkook/taehyung | nc-17 | 1716 words
     i swear to god, every time taehyung appears in a fic it turns into
     crack. this is crack. this is crack with porn. i'm sorry this is
     awful. not enough porn. so much for porn without plot. but
     technically this isn't... actually... plot at all... it's just
     taehyung being strange. of course.
     also partly brought on because justin and michelle said, hey,
     wouldn't it be great if taehyung were the ceo of nasa in this prompt?
     because he'd want to meet his own kind one day?
     they were right. in which taehyung is the ceo of nasa, and jungkook
     doesn't get paid enough for this shit.
 
 
 
“Yes. I agree. We must do everything it takes to protect the earth. No, I do
not agree, Lord Zaa. Your methods are despicable. Pick up your lightsaber,
fool. We duel to the death.”
“Sir,” says Jeongguk, from the doorway, “are you talking to yourself again?”
“Of course not!” The gigantic leather swivel chair turns around slowly.
Taehyung kicks his feet up onto his desk and leans back, sighing. What a
comfortable, beautiful, magnificent chair. He’d paid good money for this chair.
The only perk he really cares about when it comes to being the CEO of NASA. Who
needs a big car, a big house, or big rings, when you can reenact dramatic movie
scenes instead? “I was just on the phone, o’ secretary of mine.”
“Your phone is with me,” says Jeongguk dryly, holding up Taehyung’s Nokia 3310.
“Also, are you ever going to change it? It keeps making these weird noises. I
think it’s haunted.”
“How dare you suggest I get rid of my darling! I’ll dock your pay.”
Also, do new phones even come with Snake, these days?
Jeongguk snorts. “I don’t get paid enough as it is. Besides, even if you fired
me, who else would you hire?”
“I’m sure there are many willing candidates,” says Taehyung. He pauses. “Also,
how much does a Siamese cat cost?”
“Not enough to deal with all of your shit,” says Jeongguk, sighing, flipping
through a file idly. Taehyung would have fired him months ago, if it weren’t
for the fact that he had the most amazing mouth. Both figuratively and
literally. He’s chewed out so many of the interns that no one even believes
that he’s just a secretary anymore. Also, blowjobs. “I’ll Google cat prices
later. You have two meetings this afternoon. And that UN representative is
coming over again to discuss that satellite issue. Also, President Park is
going to call in three hours. Shall I—”
“Yes,” says Taehyung immediately, “burn the office phone.”
“—tell him you’re busy, or just burn the office phone. Right. Got it.”
“Good boy,” says Taehyung, “I won’t dock your pay this week, then.”
“If I suck you off, can I get a raise instead?”
Taehyung taps his fingers on the table. Hmm. Does he have time for sex right
now, or should he go back to imagining first contact with the otherworldly?
“Schedule that in sometime later,” he concludes, and Jeongguk snorts, pen
already scribbling across his clipboard absently. “There are much more
important things at hand, right now.”
“Of course, sir,” says Jeongguk, “like approving the engineers’ budget, or
keeping an eye on the asteroid belt surrounding the new galaxy—”
“Or mahjong!”
“—or mahjong. Right. Of course, sir.” Jeongguk closes the door behind him,
mumbling, “Now, who the hell am I going to have to convince to play mahjong at
nine in the morning?”
“Anyone but Jimin!” calls Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s voice can be heard saying,
and why would anyone in their right mind ask the president to come over to play
mahjong at nine in the morning.
Taehyung is still so proud of his best friend. Growing up together, you’d never
think the unfortunate duo would eventually end up as important people. Well,
Jimin’s important. Sort of. Presidents are important, right? But they don’t get
to meet aliens, do they! Taehyung totally gets to! Someday! Checkmate,
atheists. Or something.
“Why are we friends again?” asks Jimin, some hours later, his feet next to
Taehyung’s on the table, leaning back in his slightly-less-impressive chair
(that does not swivel). Jimin is the only one Taehyung will ever allow to treat
his office like his own. Of course, Jeongguk already does that, but then again,
who is Taehyung to complain, when the only time Jeongguk’s feet are up on the
table is when he’s riding Taehyung’s cock in between telling him his next
schedule for the day.
“You tell me.” Taehyung flips a mahjong tile. It flies off the table, and hits
Jimin square in the cheek. “Also, didn’t I tell my secretary to get me anyone
but you?”
“He showed me the melted phone.” Jimin rubs his face, and throws a piece back
at Taehyung. Taehyung catches it, and stuffs it into a potted plant. Problem
solved. “Besides, I was going to come over, anyway. Reminds me, are your toilet
seats still heated?”
Taehyung wiggles his fingers towards the door. “Go on.”
The second Jimin leaves the room, Jeongguk pops his head around the door, and
says, “Your two o’clock is here.”
“Send them in,” says Taehyung, attempting to juggle seven mahjong pieces at
once. Jimin was totally on the verge of losing, anyway. “Will it be quick? Or
should I kick Jimin out now?”
“Oh, it’ll be quick.” Jeongguk closes the door behind him, and slides straight
onto Taehyung’s lap. “So,” he says, tone as casual as ever, “I’m here to
discuss a raise.”
“What about the two o’clock?”
“I—” Jeongguk sends him a pointed look. Taehyung makes an ‘ooh’ sound. “Never
mind. Pull down your pants.”
“You mean, pull down your pants, sir,” corrects Taehyung. “Learn some respect,
secretary.”
“I’ll learn some respect when you learn to stop making me do all the
paperwork,” says Jeongguk, sliding under the table, hands already pulling out
Taehyung’s cock from his trousers, and—
Jimin opens the door. “Back,” he announces, as if that hadn’t been obvious
enough (he never gets tired of announcing his arrival, as if Taehyung doesn’t
see him do it enough on Twitter: @unitedstatesofchim back!! ! #urawesomeprez
#turnup )
Beneath the table, Jeongguk mouths, don’t let him look under here, and Taehyung
nearly knees the table in reaction to Jeongguk sliding his lips over the head
of Taehyung’s cock, mouth wet and hot and tongue doing all the right things.
“Fuck,” says Taehyung, and Jimin stares at him, “I mean... fornicate. Yes. My
pet guppies have been fornicating most excitedly these days. I think they will
multiply soon.”
“Okay,” says Jimin. “Congratulations?”
“Thank you. I am very excited about having grandchildren. I might cry.”
Jeongguk’s tongue drags up the side of Taehyung’s cock. Taehyung curls his
fingers tight into the arm of his chair, and chances a glance downwards.
Jeongguk glances back up, mischievous in the way he bobs his head up and down
slowly, a hand reaching to thumb along Taehyung’s cock, a trail of saliva and
pre-come dripping from his lower lip.
Does anyone else in the building have a secretary this hot, wonders Taehyung
distantly, as he attempts to keep up conversation with Jimin, while Jeongguk
sucks his cheeks in around Taehyung’s cock. Maybe Yoongi’s secretary, he
decides, after hitting Jimin in the face with another mahjong tile on accident,
when Jeongguk nips at the skin of his thigh. Yeah, Yoongi’s secretary is pretty
hot too. Very nice ass. Maybe he should implement that new ‘Only Hot
Secretaries Can Be Hired At NASA’ policy after all.
“See you on Friday,” says Jimin, and Taehyung blinks. Is Jimin leaving already?
He couldn’t really tell. Jeongguk’s still lapping at his cock, and Taehyung’s
been too busy trying to not let a single sound come out of his mouth. “Don’t
screw me over this time! Our laser tag team sucks balls.”
“That’s not the only thing that sucks balls,” says Taehyung pleasantly, and
Jeongguk nearly chokes, a laugh forced back down his throat. “See you.”
The door shuts. Jeongguk slides his mouth off Taehyung’s cock with a soft
‘pop,’ and says, “Finally. I thought he would never leave.”
“Please don’t tell me there’s another appointment after this,” says Taehyung,
reaching down to run his hands through Jeongguk’s hair, biting his lip. “I’ll
murder you.”
“None,” says Jeongguk, and he stands to his feet shakily, before jogging over
to the door to lock it. He sits on the edge of Taehyung’s table, reaching into
the top drawer, to pull out that little bottle of lube that somehow manages to
refill itself all the time, and a condom that somehow has magically appeared
out of nowhere. “You’re free for the next hour.”
“You’re getting the biggest Christmas bonus ever,” declares Taehyung. “Now,
come here. Don’t leave me hanging, or I’ll do worse than murder you. I’ll expel
you.”
“Everything you say either makes no sense, or comes from a Harry Potter movie,”
sighs Jeongguk, fingers slick with lube, one foot balanced against the arm of
Taehyung’s chair, “but you’re a great fuck, so I’ll excuse that.”
“That’s all that matters in this world, secretary,” says Taehyung grandly.
“Fornication. And outer space.”
Jeongguk sinks down onto his cock with a soft moan, hands resting on Taehyung’s
shoulders for balance. “Of course, sir,” he breathes, and Taehyung’s palms
bracket Jeongguk’s hips, tightening when Jeongguk’s hips roll forward, taking
him in deeper. “Sure.”
“Come on,” exhales Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s forehead presses against his,
breath hitching when he fucks himself harder onto Taehyung’s cock, “Jesus.”
“Close, but nope, it’s secretary to you,” says Jeongguk, breathless, pressing
his lips to the corner of Taehyung’s mouth.
“I had to hire the one kid with the attitude,” mutters Taehyung, letting out a
loud, drawn-out groan when Jeongguk pulls himself up, and slams himself back
down, picking up the pace, “ah—fuck, right there—”
“Touch me,” says Jeongguk, another moan slipping from his lips, practically
bouncing in Taehyung’s lap, “please, fuck—”
Taehyung leans forward, kisses him hard, and says, “What’s the word?”
“Sir,” says Jeongguk, biting at Taehyung’s lower lip, “sir, please.”
If there’s one thing Taehyung’s good at, it’s using his hands, and Jeongguk
knows that way too well by now. It only takes a few strokes before Jeongguk is
coming across that nice white button-up he’d been wearing, and the way Jeongguk
tenses around Taehyung’s cock is enough to set him off too, heat building up
until he’s blowing his own load.
“God,” says Jeongguk, catching his breath as he kisses up Taehyung’s neck, “I
love this job.”
“So do I,” agrees Taehyung, eyes closed for a moment, “outer space is amazing.
Planets are so great. I love moons. Big Bang too. I meant the band, by that.
I’m going to see them in concert next week, wanna come? Also, the big bang was
pretty cool. I love that too.”
“Of course,” says Jeongguk, shaking his head. “So, how much is my bonus again?”
 
 
***** day three *****
Chapter Notes
     # day three: for sasireun
     prompt: gonna go all out and say: yoonseok experimenting with toys,
     orgasm denial+/-multiple orgasms, praise kink, dirty talk etc etc
     yoongi/hoseok | nc-17 | 1731 words
     this isn't porn enough i'm sorry i've failed you
     warnings for use of sex toys, orgasm denial, light bondage (wrist
     tying), praise kink/dirty talk kink, barebacking (i guess)
 
 
It had been Yoongi’s idea. He’d promised Hoseok a reward for his good
behaviour. That is, if he’d managed to do it. Hoseok had laughed, gaze amused,
and said he could.
He did.
It had been so much fun, watching the way Hoseok carried himself the entire
day, the slightest hint of a limp in his step. Forehead leaning against the
window of the car, earphones in, pretending he doesn’t feel a single thing.
Biting his lip during the interview, fingers curling into the fabric of his
pants, as Yoongi absently toyed with the remote in his pocket.
Yoongi wonders how Hoseok had held up for so long. Having a vibrator inside him
the entire day must have been torture. Especially since Yoongi’s had the time
of his life messing with the buttons, always half a step behind Hoseok to see
his reaction.
Hoseok had cornered him in the bathroom backstage at the music show, halfway
through the day, exhaling sharply, “Stop fucking with the settings.” He’d
pressed Yoongi up against the wall of the stall. Yoongi had nearly lost his
breath when he felt just how hard Hoseok was. Had he been this turned on the
entire day? “I swear to god,” Hoseok had whispered, “if anyone notices—”
“They won’t.” Hoseok hadn’t even noticed Yoongi’s hand slipping into his pocket
again, jerking involuntarily when Yoongi rested the tip of his finger over the
speed settings button, face flushing red, almost swaying on the spot. “Whoops.
Finger slipped.”
“Yoongi.” His voice almost slips into a whine, frustrated and low. Yoongi
strokes his fingers over Hoseok’s hip, and leaves him a promise of later.
He probably deserves it, Yoongi does, when they get back to the hotel, and
Hoseok shoves him back against the door so hard his elbow hits wood with a loud
smack, and Yoongi bites back a pained hiss. “You promised,” says Hoseok, voice
sweet, almost, and Yoongi knows that he’s done waiting. “Please,” says Hoseok
this time, the pretense dropping. His hips roll up against Yoongi’s, and Yoongi
exhales. “God, I’ve been waiting to get off the entire fucking day.”
“I know,” says Yoongi, and he catches Hoseok by the wrist when Hoseok attempts
to palm himself through his jeans, long past the point of holding off any
further. “Not until I say so.”
Hoseok nearly cries with relief when Yoongi has him on the bed, when Yoongi
finally removes the vibrator and god, does Hoseok make the best sounds. They’ve
barely started anything, but there’s already sweat running down Hoseok’s face,
and he’s so hard, so fucking hard.
“Come on,” says Hoseok, tone pleading, and Yoongi leans in to kiss him,
groaning when Hoseok nips at his lip instead, tugging it between his teeth,
before licking over it. “You said you’d reward me, didn’t you?”
“Say please,” murmurs Yoongi, just teasing, but there’s a flash of something
else in Hoseok’s eyes, and Yoongi knows—oh, god, Yoongi knows just exactly what
Hoseok is going to do.
“Please,” says Hoseok, voice low, casual, “reward me. Fuck me with that nice
cock of yours,” he says, and Yoongi’s mouth falls open, heat building in his
gut almost immediately. Hoseok always exploits this, the fact that words said
just the right way can turn Yoongi on quicker than anything else ever can.
Yoongi fists his hand around Hoseok’s cock and strokes up hard, just to see the
way Hoseok’s eyes flutter shut, a moan slipping out. “God, you’re so good,” he
says softly, and Yoongi can’t help curling his teeth over his lip, ignoring the
spark that lights, “you like that? Because I do. I like it when you get all
flustered.”
“Wait,” Yoongi attempts to say, but Hoseok flips them over, and Yoongi’s lost
this round. Hoseok has got him wrapped around his little finger with nothing
more than a couple of sentences.
“I’ll take my reward now, then,” murmurs Hoseok, leaning in so close that
Yoongi can count every single lash against his cheek. “Can I fuck myself on
your cock, Yoongi?”
“God,” breathes Yoongi, “fuck, yes, Hoseok.”
There’s no hitch. Hoseok slicks Yoongi up with a palmful of lube, and slides
down onto him without any hesitation, and it’s so fucking good, how tight he
feels around Yoongi, despite having had the vibrator in him the entire day.
“Later,” says Hoseok, beginning to rock his hips back and forth, each word
punctuated by a soft moan, “later, you’re going to—ah, fuck—you’re going to
fuck me again, and—hah, and you’re going to use that toy, and you’re going to
fuck me so good—can you do that, Yoongi? Come on, Yoongi—ah— tell me you can.”
“Fucking hell,” swears Yoongi, breath catching in his throat. Every single
fucking time Hoseok says anything like this, Yoongi can never concentrate on
anything but the words that repeat themselves in his mind, over and over.
“Yes.”
“Good,” breathes Hoseok, shoulders curling in, “you feel so good, Yoongi.”
It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to come, hot strings of white across his front,
dripping down onto Yoongi’s own stomach. He’s been wound-up the entire day.
Yoongi barely waits for him to pull off Yoongi before he’s reversing their
positions again, fumbling for his suitcase that’s next to the bed.
“You can’t come until I tell you to,” comes Yoongi’s voice, soft, into Hoseok’s
ear, as he slowly binds his wrists together above his head with one of his
ties, and Hoseok just watches him, breath coming in hard exhales. “Remember
that.”
It’s worth every single second of waiting to get himself off, the way Hoseok
squirms when Yoongi works the vibrator into him, whimpering when Yoongi turns
it up to full speed. Hoseok’s limbs tremble even harder than the vibrator does,
by the time he’s saying, “Yoongi, please—”
“I said, wait.” Yoongi doesn’t let loose, the hand he has around the base of
Hoseok’s cock, fingers smeared with a mix of lube and come. Hoseok’s hips buck
into his grip when Yoongi pulls the vibrator out and twists it back into him,
fast and hard, until Hoseok’s moans are coming in short, staccato bursts. “Can
I?”
“Fuck, yeah,” says Hoseok, words breathless, and there’s a soft sound of regret
when Yoongi tugs the vibrator back out, but it’s quickly replaced with a loud,
drawn-out groan of Yoongi’s name when Yoongi slides his own cock into Hoseok,
grunting when Hoseok wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist tight, rolling his
hips back against Yoongi’s cock. “Fuck,” says Hoseok, almost spent past the
point of return, satisfaction lacing his voice with every thrust Yoongi makes,
“I love it when you fuck me like this.”
“Hoseok,” says Yoongi, breath hitching when Hoseok says the words. You’ve got a
little praise kink, Hoseok had laughed, the first time he’d gotten Yoongi off
with nothing more than a few whispered words into his ear, you like it when I
talk dirty to you, don’t you? When I tell you just how fucking amazing you feel
inside me. “Fuck, please—”
“Come on, Yoongi,” says Hoseok, sentence cracking in the middle when Yoongi’s
hips stutter, so close to coming already, “Yoongi, please—hah, please, come on,
good boy, that’s it, fuck me harder, fuck me so hard I come saying your name—”
Yoongi can’t hold himself back. He comes with a bitten back groan, entire body
burning up, fingers curling so hard into the sheets his knuckles go white.
Hoseok lets out a most frustrated noise when Yoongi comes inside him, still
left hanging.
“Please,” whispers Hoseok, “please, please, my turn, please—”
Yoongi makes him wait, pulls out from Hoseok and holds him down by the hips
with one hand, before barely sucking the head of Hoseok’s cock into his mouth,
just teasing, just soft licks of his tongue against the leaking tip of his
cock. Hoseok can’t even do a single thing, with his hands still tied above his
head, and Yoongi holding him down. For all his height, Yoongi is surprisingly
capable of strength when he needs it. Hoseok knows that all too well.
Hoseok lets out a moan that sounds halfway to a sob, when Yoongi drags his
tongue up along the the side of his cock, still withholding release even as he
kisses the head of Hoseok’s cock, murmuring, “Is that enough already?”
“Yes, yes,” says Hoseok, “fuck, just let me come, oh god—”
Yoongi lets go, and slides his mouth all the way down Hoseok’s cock, only
needing a few hard sucks before Hoseok’s back is arching, heels digging into
the mattress, coming in spurts. Yoongi swallows what he can, and wipes the rest
off his chin, before reaching up to kiss Hoseok, long and hard and messy.
“Shit,” says Hoseok, dazedly, and Yoongi undoes the tie on his wrists. “I
thought I was going to pass out. You left me hanging so fucking long.”
Yoongi presses a kiss to his temple, and says, “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” Hoseok doesn’t move. “I’m dead,” he announces, “you’ve fucked
the life out of me.”
“Good to know,” says Yoongi, flopping down next to him, decidedly too lazy to
clean up either. “Sorry for fucking with the settings, today.”
“No, you’re not.” Hoseok snorts. “Tomorrow, it’s my turn to hold the remote.”
Yoongi scoffs. “I’ve got much better control than you, anyway. As if you think
that’ll get me worked up.”
“Maybe it won’t,” says Hoseok, but he shifts closer, and his nose bumps against
the shell of Yoongi’s ear. “But maybe,” he whispers, “if I just lean in every
now and then, and mention, well, you know, just how perfect you would look, all
flustered and red and needy, because of that toy all snug in your ass—”
Yoongi groans, kissing Hoseok in an attempt to shut him up, and to alleviate
the growing arousal that Hoseok’s just re-incited, and Hoseok laughs into the
kiss, murmuring, “So easy.”
 
 
***** day four *****
Chapter Notes
     # day four: for a_sobbing_paki
     prompt: VGKOOK IN WHICH JUNGKOOK IS TIRED OF BEING THE MAKNAE WHOS
     ALWAYS BOSSED AROUND AND DECIDES THAT HES GONNA BE IN CONTROL OF HIS
     HYUNG AND COMMAND HIM TO DO WHAT HE WANTS U KNOW LIKE A MASTER/SLAVE
     TYPE THING
     jungkook/taehyung | nc-17 | 1688 words
     OKAY I NEED TO CLEAR THINGS UP FIRST... I'M SORRY SANA the fic came
     out weird because your prompt was more of them doing things for the
     first time but this is sort of, uh, set in an established
     relationship with established dynamics and shit that are still being
     worked out because they're young and inexperienced also i'm rambling
     but yeah just wanted to say i'm sorry this isn't exactly what you
     wanted! i will write you something properly next time and i hope you
     enjoy it! love you, kiddo!
     warnings for ageplay, hair-pulling, d/s dynamics, master/slave
     dynamics (almost-sort-of-not-really-at-all-i'm-very-sorry), minor
     dirty talk, underage tag comes in here
 
 
 
He tightens his grip in Taehyung’s hair, and pulls him in so close that
Taehyung can feel his lips moving against his ear. “I want to hear you say it,
Taehyung.”
No formalities. Taehyung asked for this. Jeongguk asked for this too. They know
what they’re both getting into. This is not the first time, but every night
always feels like a new night. Taehyung sucks in a hard breath, and says, voice
quieter than it’s ever been before, “Yes, sir.”
“Louder.”
“Sir,” repeats Taehyung, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem to be satisfied. He merely
gazes at Taehyung, fingers still fisted into Taehyung’s hair hard, and
Taehyung’s heart is beating so fucking fast. Taehyung can’t feel anything but
the strength of Jeongguk’s grip in his hair and the way his heart thumps
against his rib-cage like it’s trying to escape and the way his knees are going
strangely weak.
Jeongguk’s gaze sharpens, and Taehyung shivers. The disparity between the
Jeongguk he knows in public and the Jeongguk he has in private is astonishing.
“I don’t think I heard you.”
“Sir,” says Taehyung, louder, and Jeongguk wrenches him up, his hand moving to
grip the back of his neck instead. “Sir, please.”
“Good boy,” murmurs Jeongguk. He’s gotten so tall, over the past year. They’re
the same height now, but Taehyung feels especially small tonight. “You’re all
mine tonight, Taehyung. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes, master.” Taehyung nearly lets out an involuntary moan when Jeongguk runs
a hand up his front, his palm warm against skin. Taehyung feels like he’s
burning up already. Jeongguk pulls his hand back to thumb over the corner of
Taehyung’s mouth, as if contemplating something.
“Drop the ‘master’ title,” says Jeongguk, “we’re going to play a different
game, today.”
Taehyung knows what this means. He knows Jeongguk’s always wanted to try this.
Having Taehyung obey him completely. “Yes, sir,” says Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s
lips quirk into a pleased smile.
“Come on, Taehyung. Say it.” Jeongguk’s voice drops, the barest hint of a
tremble. “Jeongguk-hyung.”
Taehyung has to swallow hard before the words come out of his mouth. It’s hard.
Jeongguk is two years younger than him, but here they are, and here he is,
making Taehyung call him something reserved for the rest of the group instead.
Taehyung’s burning up. “Hyung,” exhales Taehyung, and something in Jeongguk’s
face changes, “Jeongguk-hyung, please.”
“Very good,” whispers Jeongguk, and Taehyung knows he’s already turned on, the
way his breathing has quickened in its pace, the way he looks like he’s itching
to push Taehyung back against the bed and fuck him until he can’t see straight.
Taehyung hopes he does. Taehyung wants Jeongguk to fuck him so hard that he
leaves bruises that the stylists will yell at him for. “Go on,” comes
Jeongguk’s voice, “get on the bed, Taehyung.”
Taehyung’s already undressed. Jeongguk had watched as Taehyung took off each
piece of clothing, one by one, just a few moments before he had twisted his
fingers into Taehyung’s hair and told him how it would be, tonight.
Jeongguk straddles Taehyung’s hips, and rests a finger under his chin, tipping
his head up. “Now,” he says, “you’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to
do everything I tell you to. Got it?”
Taehyung nods shakily, gaze still locked with Jeongguk’s. He forgets
completely, what he’s supposed to do.
“I don’t think I heard you, Taehyung,” says Jeongguk, voice turning sharp.
“Yes, hyung,” says Taehyung quickly, breathing hitching when Jeongguk’s hand
splays out across his front. Jeongguk lets his fingers curl in as he drags his
hand down. Taehyung bites his lip so hard he thinks it’ll bleed, when
Jeongguk’s fingernails scrape across skin lightly. “Hyung, please—”
“You want it?” Jeongguk’s hand curls around his cock, deft fingers stroking
easily, languidly. Taehyung’s head tilts back against the bed. It’s been so
long since they’ve done anything, since he’s even gotten off, and Jeongguk’s
hand is so warm. “Tell me what you want, Taehyung.”
“I want—” Taehyung hiccups softly, arching when Jeongguk scoots down to kiss
down Taehyung’s chest, mouth fastening around Taehyung’s nipple, tongue moving
in lazy licks. “Fuck,” he exhales, the word ending in a whine when Jeongguk
sucks hard, “please fuck me, hyung.”
“Tell me how you want me to fuck you,” comes Jeongguk’s reply, muffled against
his skin, and Taehyung manages to start his first word before letting out a
groan, when Jeongguk mouths downwards. “Go on.”
“Hard,” says Taehyung. His fingers curl into the sheets, curling and unfurling.
Jeongguk has moved his attention to Taehyung’s cock, mouth warmer than his hand
had been, kissing up along the side of it. “Fuck me hard. I want it so much.
Jeongguk-hyung,” he adds, softer, for good measure, “I want to you to hold me
down and fuck me, hyung.”
“Good.” Jeongguk is already shimmying out of his clothes, having been fully
dressed the entire time. Taehyung watches him coat his fingers in lube,
propping himself up on his elbows, watches Jeongguk slide a finger inside him
and curl slowly. It’s slow. It feels so good.
Taehyung can’t watch after the third finger goes in. It’s tighter, and hotter,
and Taehyung feels like he’s going to melt every time Jeongguk crooks his
fingers and brushes against that spot, right there. Jeongguk is whispering,
even as he works his fingers into Taehyung, “You’re so eager, aren’t you?
Hyung’s going to fuck you so good.”
There’s a brief moment where Taehyung thinks he might come just from Jeongguk’s
fingers pressing him open alone. But nothing compares to how it feels when
Jeongguk slides into him, heat, sticky heat and so much fucking tighter than
before. Taehyung holds his breath until Jeongguk’s managed to inch into him,
all the way until he bottoms-out, and by then Taehyung’s shivering so hard he
can barely stand it when Jeongguk begins to fuck him earnest.
Uncoordinated, sloppy. Jeongguk’s never been particularly skilled with anything
other than using his mouth, but Taehyung loves it all the same. Jeongguk makes
up for it in power, the control he has over Taehyung with just a few words, and
the tone of voice he reserves just for him, and Taehyung, god, Taehyung could
lie here and have Jeongguk talk to him like this forever.
“Harder,” moans Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s teeth set over the curve of his
shoulder, hands slippery with lube as he curls them around Taehyung’s cock. The
friction is enough to set Taehyung off into shivers. Too much stimulation, too
much. He’s going to come way too soon. He wants this to last as long as it can.
“Hyung, please, pleasepleaseplease, fuck, harder—”
“Tell me how much you want it.” Jeongguk’s entire body is shaking, above
Taehyung. There’s sweat pooling in the hollow of his collarbones, skin flushed
all the way up to his cheeks. Jeongguk catches Taehyung’s mouth in a kiss, and
whispers, in between breathy moans, “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m all yours, sir,” breathes Taehyung, and Jeongguk groans, “I want it so
much—fuck, please, hyung, I want this so bad—”
“If I don’t let you come, what will you do?”
Taehyung whines, low and frustrated in his throat. He’s tipping over the edge,
so close, so fucking close. But he can’t—not until Jeongguk says he can. He has
to listen to Jeongguk. He has to listen to his master. “Wait,” he whispers
feebly, “but, hyung, please, I need it so much.”
Jeongguk’s hips roll against Taehyung’s. It feels so fucking amazing. Taehyung
reaches up to grip at Jeongguk’s hair, arching into his hands, still around his
cock. There’s so much going on. Fire prickles under Taehyung’s skin, flaming-
hot arousal. Taehyung just wants Jeongguk to keep touching him until he’s
shouting out so loud the neighbours hear them.
“You do, huh?” exhales Jeongguk, forehead pressed to Taehyung’s, breath fanning
against his cheek as he continues to fuck him hard, one hand braced against the
wall for support. “Then I won’t let you wait tonight, then.”
Taehyung could have cried in relief. “Thank you, sir,” he says, words nearly
getting lost in his throat when Jeongguk strokes up Taehyung’s cock hard, hand
warm and tight around him, upping the pace until Taehyung’s toes are curling,
and his breath building up in his chest until he comes so hard he nearly hits
his head against the headboard.
Jeongguk fucks into Taehyung until he comes, hips stuttering. Taehyung can’t
help the little sounds he lets out even as Jeongguk fucks him through his
orgasm, the over-stimulation edging between too much and almost painful. His
moan breaks through the air, shoulders shaking so hard Taehyung has to hold him
up so he doesn’t collapse onto him.
“I’ll be back,” mutters Jeongguk, after catching his breath, before rolling off
the bed. Taehyung can hear his footsteps padding across the floor even as he
lies down, just staring at the ceiling, head still buzzing. It doesn’t take
long for Jeongguk to return, and he presses a mug of water into Taehyung’s
hand, kissing his temple. “You did good,” murmurs Jeongguk. But his master has
done even better, thinks Taehyung, leaning into Jeongguk’s embrace. He hadn’t
thought, at first, that Jeongguk would take on the role well.
But Jeongguk takes care of him just the way Taehyung needs. And it’s good
enough, thinks Taehyung, even if they haven’t completely figured it out, yet.
They don’t know how other people do this. But it works for them. What they
have, and what they need. They’ll figure the rest out along the way.
 
 
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