Wanted: Desk Pet

Wanted: Desk Pet

Duties include: Remaining under owner's desk for duration of work day to provide oral service and general entertainment. Cockwarming owner during both meetings and day-to-day work activities. Humping owner's shoes under desk throughout day. Throating cock Providing oral support when requested. Sucking owner's fingers when presented. Submitting to hatefucking penetration from owner during boring or frustrating days. During lunch hour, all office desk pets are placed in group play pen for exercise expect to get humped like a bottom bitch.

Uniform: Collar and leash required. Lingerie and resraints at owners discretion. Tail plug optional. Chastity device required to ensure maximum obedience. Desk pets may be required to wear owner's cum on face/body.

Compensation: Lots of praise you're a good little whore, aren't you? Several head pats per day. Regular petting, scratching behind ears. Lots of cum to drink don't you dare spill a drop. Desk pets may occassionally be fucked as a reward for good behavior you better beg for it. Orgasms administered at owner's discretion.

Note: Desk pets may be restrained under owner's desk during work day. Desk pets will be required to lick up any mess they left behind at the end of day each day. Desk pets are not permitted to orgasm without owner permission, any infraction will result in torture punishment. Punishment includes but is not limited to spanking, flogging, clit slapping, overstimulation, forced orgasms, sensory deprevation, and being walked around the office leashed, naked, and on all fours public humiliation.

How to edge like a dumb slxt 🖤

. Get naked. Sluts need to be exposed and easily accessible while edging, so if someone finds you, they can fill your holes right away.

. Keep your legs spread, expose your holes. Reason is the same as above.

. Learn to edge in different positions. On your back, on your stomach humping your hand or a pillow, on your knees with your ass in the air, standing up. It doesn't matter if you're comfortable, you just need to edge.

. In different places too!! Don't just edge in your bed. Edge in the living room, the kitchen, even on the balcony! Also it's very good for sluts to edge on the floor.

. You can use toys, but you should also be able to edge with just your fingers. The goal is to be able to reach an eldge no matter where you are, no matter what time it is, only by rubbing your wet cunt for a brief while.

. Hump things!! And not only pillows, but also tables, chairs or the toilet seat. Humping things is good for you because it makes you look really desperate and pathetic.

. Because looking desperate and pathetic is VERY important. Remember that you edge to become a good toy and entertain others, so always put on a show. Open your mouth, stick your tongue out and drool. Go cross-eyed or roll your eyes back. Make pretty, needy noises to show everyone that you're eager to be used. Practice in front of a mirror or record yourself to make sure that you look and sound properly braindead.

. You should babble like a dumb whore while you edge, too. Tell the world what you are and what you need, don't be shy. It doesn't matter if it sounds ridiculous and embarrassing, that's the point.

. Look at and listen to fun things, like spirals and mantras and porn. That's the only education you need.

. Edge often. Edging for hours on end is fun, but it's even more important to edge regularly. Even if you're busy, every few hours your hand should wander between your legs and rub a few quick edges out, that way you'll be wet and needy all the time. Of course, when you have the day off, the best thing is to edge in the morning and stop only to rest, eat and drink and do other fun stuff! (Like offering your holes to people, for example.)

. Never ever cum

love song (2) | kth + pjm

After a surprise collaboration that shocked their fans, broke records, and earned them a Grammy, salacious rapper V and sweetheart idol Jimin are the duo the music industry didn’t know it needed but now can’t live without. Fans just have one burning question: Are V and Jimin dating?

○ Pairing: Rapper!Taehyung x Idol!Jimin

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: A/B/O, idols/musicians (not canon/BTS), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, smut, fluff, light angst

○ Word Count: 9,579

○ Warnings: Very sexual language, scenting, technically non-consensual kissing (TH doesn't ask for permission, but he picks up the ✨ vibes ✨ )

○ Notes: Shout out to the lovely anons and moots who sent me their horny thoughts to use as the thirst tweets in this chapter. Idk what I would do without y'all. 🤭 If you want an ✨ immersive ✨ experience, I recommend watching Jackson Wang’s BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets episode to get a feel for Taehyung’s vibe during the scene, and DPR IAN’s for Jimin’s vibe. Also, I acknowledge the current strike for Palestine until June 22. Based on what I've seen, the strike is specifically for Twitter, but I wanted to do my part on Tumblr by bringing attention to it. You can learn more here.

○ Post Date: June 18, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

The morning sun casts bright flickers of pale orange light across the dance studio’s hardwood floor. Jimin’s bare feet chase the light streaks and dots as they stomp and twist, carrying his body along the length of the room. He told his entertainment company he wouldn’t re-sign his contract as a solo artist if they didn’t give him a dance studio with natural lighting. So many studios at the company’s headquarters are windowless — soulless if you ask Jimin. The K-pop industry can feel like a prison sometimes; Jimin doesn’t want his dance studio to feel the same.

Today, Jimin is thankful for the natural lighting for another reason.

"I think I've finally got it down," Taehyung says, running his hand through his sweaty bangs. 

His hair falls limply over his forehead as he drops his arm and gazes at his reflection in the mirrored studio wall. His dark brown eyes glow amber in the sunlight, and Jimin swears he sees little sparkles dancing in them.

“Sort of,” Hoseok stands beside Taehyung with his hands on his hips and a deep frown that would make even the most confident dancer anxious. “I’m honestly shocked at how well you’ve memorized the movements, but you’re still stiff. You need to loosen up a bit.”

Unphased by Hoseok’s critical stare, Taehyung pushes up the short sleeve of his t-shirt to expose more of his bicep as he flexes in the mirror. The veins in the back of his hand and up his forearm pop with each flex of his muscles. He’s pink in the cheeks, and his white shirt is soaked with sweat, making the fabric cling to his defined chest. 

As an alpha, Taehyung's frame is naturally larger than Jimin and Hoseok’s, particularly with how broad his shoulders and chest are. His recent obsession with weightlifting has only exacerbated that. 

Not that Jimin has noticed or anything. He certainly hasn’t been paying attention to Taehyung’s physique; there’s no reason for him to.

“Taehyung,” Hoseok scolds, his floral omega scent spiking with a charcoal bitterness, “Pay attention.”

“Gimme a break, alright? I’m sweating my fucking ass off.”

“I thought you said dancing would be easy?” Jimin grins, catching Taehyung’s eye through the mirror.

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung stalks off toward the dance studio’s exit, where the trio has left their bags. When Taehyung pulls a water bottle from his backpack, Hoseok pauses the music playing through the studio speakers.

“Let’s take a break?” Hoseok adjusts the headband that keeps his silver hair out of his face and gives Jimin and Taehyung a hard stare.

"I'm fine," Taehyung insists after clearing his throat, yet he flops on the floor anyway.

Taehyung sits with his legs spread, the loose fabric of his basketball shorts riding up his thighs, which are muscular in an effortless alpha way Jimin has to work hard to accomplish for himself as an omega. He doesn't break eye contact with Jimin through the mirror when he sips his water bottle, and his throat bobs when he swallows. 

Averting his eyes, Jimin focuses on his own reflection.

"You were actually doing pretty well. Hyung is right, though. The main problem truly is that you’re stiff. You’re not letting the music guide you," Jimin says.  

"I know," Taehyung groans, tilting his head back. Jimin notices the V of his jawline and shoves the thought aside. "I keep fucking overthinking it." 

"That's the thing about dancing. You have to get to the point where you can turn your brain off." 

"My brain is always turned off, Chim." 

Jimin catches Taehyung's cheeky grin in his peripheral vision. Rolling his eyes, he tries to twist his body so he can't see Taehyung through the mirror anymore. 

"You're annoying." 

"I know." 

Taehyung is smug as he takes another sip of water, eyes crinkled and cheeks full. Like little dumplings or loaves of bread, Taehyung is sometimes a squishy kind of cute.

Or maybe Jimin is merely hungry.

Hoseok snorts and bends to stretch his legs, letting his arms hang and his knuckles graze the floor.

“I don’t know what kind of mating ritual you guys are doing, but can you shut up?” Hoseok’s voice is muffled by gravity pulling his t-shirt forward into his face as he stretches, “We’ve got, like, no time to dick around.”

"Don't be ridiculous," Jimin says in a flustered rush. 

Jimin struggles to wrap his fingers around Hoseok's phone, desperately trying to restart the music. His hands are clammy from sweat, not nerves, of course.

Hoseok scoffs, his frown contrasting with Taehyung’s cheeky smile. 

“It’s the two of you being ridiculous.” 

“You’re so grumpy today,” Taehyung follows with a silent, toothy laugh when Hoseok sticks his tongue out at him. 

“I’m tired of teaching children.” 

Something twists in the pit of Jimin’s stomach, and tendrils wiggle into his limbs, making them shaky. It gets worse when Taehyung eyes him through the mirror again. Mating rituals are outdated these days, mainly something older people reminisce about, but the way Taehyung looks at him as he passes his water bottle for Jimin to drink from feels like the part of courting meant to prove one’s proficiency at being a caregiver. 

Jimin presses his lips to the bottle’s rim, molding them right where Taehyung’s lips had been.

He’s pretty sure he’s going insane. 

It’s nearly lunchtime when Hoseok leaves. He’s preparing for his own solo comeback and has limited time to train his children. Despite the loving insult, Jimin is appreciative of his friend’s support. Hoseok is his day one, the first friend he made back in his rookie days when he was just a little kid from Busan, with a thick accent and something to prove. 

His satoori is still there sometimes when he’s angry or sleepy. Still, despite being an omega, he doesn’t feel the pressure to be someone he isn’t anymore just to establish himself as a successful artist in the music industry. Whatever that means. 

Now, Jimin can pirouette circles around these big-name alphas in the music industry, drunk, with his eyes closed, and still look pretty doing it. 

“What argument are you winning right now?” 

Blinking, Jimin meets Taehyung’s eyes in the mirror. He’s on the floor again, this time scrolling through his phone. Without Hoseok here to scold him, Taehyung becomes easily distracted. 

“What?” Jimin scrunches his eyebrows, and Taehyung grins. 

“You’ve got that look on your face when you’re bitching someone out inside your head. What did I do wrong this time?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Can you get up and practice?” 

Taehyung may need a break, but Jimin doesn't. He watches his form in the mirror as he continues dancing, effortlessly falling back into place as the music playing through the studio speakers guides his body.

Unlike the music videos for dreamscape and other K-pop groups, the “Hurt So Good” music video doesn’t heavily focus on dancing. Most of the dancing will involve Jimin and Taehyung mirroring each other’s movements, with only a few short sections requiring them to dance together. Still, it’s enough for Jimin to recruit Hoseok to help train Taehyung.

Hardly any choreography can trip Jimin up. With muscular thighs that pull at his sweatpants and a toned stomach that peeks out with each movement of his arms, Jimin feels powerful when he dances. He has had dance practice nearly every day for the past ten years. Those ten years have given Jimin an enviable level of poise, each movement fluid but still striking, like the slither of a snake. 

He shouldn't falter, yet he finds faults in his form now that he hadn't the day before when he reviewed the dance with his personal choreographer one-on-one. 

The mirrored wall makes it nearly impossible to avoid catching Taehyung in Jimin's sightline. Despite his expert focus, Jimin's skin prickles with the warmth of Taehyung's gaze burning into him. He's grateful for the air conditioning blasting cold hair hard enough to occasionally ruffle his hair when he dances underneath the vent. Hopefully, any errant changes in his vanilla scent are quickly swept away.

It's strange; Jimin is accustomed to being observed. He wonders if the remnants of his heat are raising his temperature, though it has been nearly a week since it ended.

“You’re so good,” Taehyung comments, his voice low enough that Jimin almost doesn’t hear him over the music. 

Ignoring the spike of heat Taehyung’s words ignite in the pit of his stomach, Jimin ends the song and sits on the floor. He spreads his legs and reaches for his toes in a loose stretch. 

“I’d hope so, considering how long I’ve been doing this.” 

“Just take the fucking compliment,” Taehyung demands, but he’s smiling as he stands up. 

The yin to Jimin’s yang, Taehyung goes high when Jimin goes low. He saunters to the other side of the dance studio to inspect a small canvas bag resting against the wall. 

“What’s this?” Taehyung asks, and Jimin can’t help but giggle. Taehyung looks over his shoulder at the sound, still grinning. “Park Jimin.”

“What!”

“You–” Taehyung interrupts himself by biting his bottom lip. The slow shake of his head fills Jimin with that familiar feeling of humiliation that makes the back of his neck prickle. 

“Me?” Jimin doesn’t understand why he’s breathless as Taehyung picks up the canvas bag to peer inside. 

“Oh, why didn’t we play with these?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow as he pulls out multiple metal chains from the bag. 

Hot in the face, Jimin straightens from hunching over his phone, reviewing the videos he took of their practice session, and sets it down.

"I don't really know how I feel about using the chains as props…" Jimin says quietly. 

"What do you mean?"

Taehyung remains on the opposite side of the dance studio. He wraps a long chain around both hands and tugs it, experimenting with the weight and movement when he swings it from side to side.

"It's… a lot. It's giving BDSM vibes."

Taehyung snorts. "Chim, the song is very clearly about BDSM. You have a verse about wanting to be tied down."

"By love! Besides, Namjoon hyung said we can't film anything explicitly about the song's content," Jimin huffs, turning his torso away from Taehyung to lift the bottom of his shirt and use it to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

Unfortunately, Taehyung is correct. Namjoon has planned the scenes to skirt the song's topic artfully, dancing the line between artistic and risque. 

Jimin thinks it's fair that he's hesitant. Never before has he let someone wrap chains around his body. Though, it feels fitting that Taehyung will do it. Probably because Taehyung is annoying, and who else would ensnare Jimin but the little devil himself?

If Taehyung senses the anxious spike in Jimin's vanilla scent, he doesn't comment on it. He remains steady as well, his driftwood and bourbon scent hardly present. He’s quiet for a moment as he plays with the chains.

"It's just a song, Chim," Taehyung eventually says, his dark eyes flitting up to stare at Jimin across the room. "It's not like we're fucking."

"Well, I mean, obviously. That's not what I meant," Jimin stumbles through his words. He squeezes his phone and accidentally turns the video's volume up all the way.

Taehyung laughs, light and airy as usual, despite being exhausted and covered in sweat from hours of dancing.

"It's not a standard metal chain," Taehyung comments offhandedly, looping it over his shoulders and around his neck. "I don't know what material… It's something lighter. I bet they made it so you wouldn't smack yourself in the face with it."

"Me? What about you?"

Taehyung shrugs and pulls the chain off, letting it run along his neck until it falls limp in his hands. "I know how to use chains properly."

Jimin doesn't know what to say to that, so he ignores Taehyung and returns to their dance practice video on his phone. Whatever Taehyung is trying to joke about, Jimin doesn't understand, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to. What would Taehyung even need chains for?

Apparently, in a particularly annoying mood, Taehyung is giving Jimin very few moments of peace today. Jimin feels the hairs on his arms raise as Taehyung circles behind him and leans down to nuzzle his face in the fluffy strands of hair that aren’t tied up in a ponytail.

“You smell nice when you’re embarrassed,” Taehyung’s voice is muffled, but Jimin hears him too well. 

Mortified, Jimin grows rigid beneath Taehyung’s gentle touch. It isn’t fair how vulnerable he is. He hates how easily others can read him since he can’t take suppressants to weaken his scent and the other telltale signs of his omega status. 

Taehyung is lucky to be on suppressants; his emotions are neatly hidden behind a controlled, stoic face. His driftwood and bourbon scent is still there, but it’s muted and easily masked by cologne. Sometimes, Jimin can’t sense Taehyung’s emotions just from scent alone. Jimin has had to learn the quirks of Taehyung’s body language, like how Taehyung's eyes grow wide and he does this strange little wiggle of his head when he’s trying to get something he wants, or how Taehyung plays with his fingers when he’s about to fall into ADHD-induced mind drifting during meetings.

In two years, Jimin thinks he’s done a damn good job of learning what makes Taehyung, Taehyung. This is why a shudder ripples through his body when Taehyung noses the curve of his ear and inhales deeply. 

“What’re you doing?” Jimin jerks away and twists around to narrow his eyes at Taehyung. 

Blank-faced and wide-eyed, Taehyung stares at Jimin like he’s waiting for him to answer his own question. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Taehyung asks when Jimin doesn’t say anything more. 

“Yes, please…” 

Unusually self-conscious, Jimin smooths down the back of his head while he watches Taehyung slip his backpack over one broad shoulder. His chest tightens when Taehyung reaches for his backpack, slipping it over his other shoulder. Taehyung looks ridiculous with both backpacks slung over his shoulders, but a sense of endearment warms Jimin’s cheeks when Taehyung lifts his chin in a nod toward the dance studio’s exit. 

The backpacks aren’t heavy. Why is Jimin blushing like Taehyung is demonstrating some impressive alpha feat? 

Resisting the ridiculous urge to slap himself, Jimin exhales slowly as he stands. 

“Wait, we should take a selca before we go,” Taehyung suggests once Jimin is at his side, “For the dreamers.” 

“Won’t your fans care, too?” Jimin doesn’t know why he feels defensive all of a sudden. Perhaps it’s because Taehyung’s cheeks are still dusted a light rose pink against his tan skin, and Jimin can’t pull his gaze away from them. 

“My fans complain about you in the comments because they’re all horny and hate when I even look in another celebrity’s direction,” Taehyung flicks the tip of Jimin’s chin, “But your fans love me.” 

Jimin lets out a strangled-sounding laugh. His fans do love Taehyung. They also think Jimin loves him, and not in a platonic soulmate way. 

Taehyung gives him an odd look. “Chim?”

“Let’s take a selca, yeah, that’s fun. That’ll be… cute. Sure!” 

Jimin pulls the hair tie from his ponytail, letting his hair loose so he can retie it after smoothing it out. His hair color has faded to a soft baby blue, akin more to a cloud than cotton candy but still complementary to his features. 

The selfie is cute despite their sweaty, bare-faced visuals. Taehyung is gorgeous regardless of the circumstances, and Jimin’s puffy cheeks give him a cherub look when his skin isn’t plastered with makeup. Visually, he and Taehyung complement each other just as well as they complement each other’s personalities and workstyles. 

Taehyung, the photographer; Jimin, the captionmaker. 

“Working out is a necessary pain,” Jimin workshops a few ideas out loud with Taehyung resting his chin on his shoulder to peer down at the Instagram post, “Or maybe only emojis. Or, midday vibe?” 

“Midnight Ride,” Taehyung smirks with a deep exhale sounding like a dark chuckle punctuating his comment. “Spoilers. You’re such an idol.”

“I’m not spoiling anything,” Jimin pouts because he’s not. They’re just little hints, little Easter eggs, in a way. Taehyung wouldn’t understand. “You’re the one who spoiled the entire album to begin with!” 

Letting out another breathy exhale that makes Jimin feel like he’s being mocked, Taehyung straightens his posture to readjust the backpacks. “Your fans will come up with plenty of conspiracy theories within five seconds of you posting that.” 

Like in our supposed love life, Jimin fills in the blanks and wonders if Taehyung has intentionally left them out of their conversation. 

Jimin flips off the lights when he passes through the exit doors and hopes he doesn’t have to spend the drive home with the smell of his embarrassment saturating Taehyung’s car–no matter how nice Taehyung finds it. 

By the time they shoot the Buzzfeed episode a few days later, Jimin’s anxiety morphs into an uncontrollable giddiness that gets on everyone’s nerves. Even Taehyung gives him a sideways look as they walk down the hall of some nondescript corporate building in downtown Seoul, where BuzzFeed's South Korean branch operates. A sweet female alpha leads them through the building and entertains Jimin’s nervous babbling with an unbreakable smile. 

“My name is Yoonhee,” she introduces herself, waiting for Jimin and Taehyung to exit the elevator and lead them down a winding hall. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Taehyung’s voice is deep and smooth; he has already slipped into the celebrity persona he wears so well. 

Taehyung’s tone makes Jimin shiver, and it doesn’t help that Taehyung isn’t wearing scent blockers today. He smells good, almost too good, especially as he walks beside Yoonhee, and their alpha scents blend well together, hers equally earthy. It’s annoying, even though it has no reason to be.

“This is your first time doing a skit with us?” Yoonhee asks once they’ve reached a lone black door with a light above it, indicating whether anyone is using the recording studio inside.

Taehyung isn’t paying attention anymore, so Jimin does his best to take the lead. “Yup! I’m really excited!” 

His voice is too loud, echoing in the recording room, which is a soothing lavender that makes him smile because it reminds him of dreamscape. Two chairs are in the middle of the room near a bunch of professional camera equipment. The BuzzFeed employees tending to the equipment give Taehyung and Jimin small bows. 

“Well, we’re all happy to have you,” Yoonhee says with a smile. “Your managers spoke to you about the segment being in English, correct?” 

Taehyung looks to Jimin, avoiding Yoonhee’s gaze. 

“Yes, but can you please edit the final video to add translations for Taehyung?” Jimin asks, noticing Taehyung’s scent grow bitter in the back of his throat. “He can read English, but he’ll probably switch back for his commentary.” 

“That is no problem at all.” Yoonhee gives Taehyung a polite smile. 

She points at the chairs with the clipboard she’s holding, gesturing for them to sit down. “We’ll get started in a few minutes. If you need anything to drink, please let me know. We have water and some light alcoholic beverages.” 

“Soju?” Taehyung perks up at the mention of alcohol. 

Jimin can’t stop the nervous giggle that escapes him when Yoonhee returns with beer, though Taehyung seems pleased with any type of alcohol. 

“Maybe I should get some, too,” Jimin wonders aloud. 

Taehyung shakes his head after taking a sip from the glass bottle. “Yoonhee-ssi, can you get him some water?” 

Slumping in his chair, Jimin rolls his eyes as he always does when Taehyung makes decisions for him. It doesn’t happen often, but Jimin makes sure to express his disdain whenever it does. He’s pretty sure they both know that he’s being exceptionally dramatic. He secretly loves the doting, though he refuses to admit that, even to himself. 

It only takes a few minutes for the camera crew to finish getting ready. Jimin forces Taehyung to let him have at least a few sips of his beer to give him the false belief that he’ll receive any meaningful relief from the liquid courage. It isn’t that Jimin is concerned about filming the episode; like with dancing, he’s accustomed to being observed. Jimin is nervous about the possibility that the BuzzFeed staff have also seen what he and Hoseok have seen on Twitter — things Jimin desperately hopes Taehyung hasn’t seen. 

“Alright, are you guys ready?” Yoonhee asks.

Jimin gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and convinces himself that he is ready as the red recording light flips on, and the crew gives them the okay to start. 

"Hi, friends!" Jimin smiles wide at the camera and points at Taehyung, who sits in the chair beside him. "That's V!"

"And that's Jimin." 

Taehyung looks at Jimin rather than the camera when he points at him. His greeting is steady and smooth compared to Jimin's springy enthusiasm.

"And we're with BuzzFeed to read some thirst tweets!"

In front of their chairs are two small buckets: a blue one for Jimin and a red one for Taehyung. The buckets contain the tweets printed out by staff. Jimin can only imagine what kind of exciting things their fans have to say on Twitter, though he has a feeling Taehyung won't be as surprised as Jimin will be. Jimin doesn't make a habit of looking himself up on social media, but Taehyung likes to be nosy.

Jimin wiggles in his chair and holds the red bucket over his head, his nerves morphing into playful energy. When Taehyung snatches it away, he pouts.

"You're going to fall," Taehyung scolds. He looks to the staff standing behind the cameras and points at Jimin. "Can someone edit this later with how many times he falls out of his chair? Maybe add a counter at the top of the screen."

Annoyed by Taehyung's request and the staff's subsequent laughter, Jimin flicks the side of Taehyung's head as he boldly announces, "I won't fall at all."

"Sure, Jimin," Taehyung looks unconvinced, and rightfully so. Jimin has a habit of throwing himself onto the floor, legs flying in the air. "Alright, who goes first? Do I read mine, or do I read his?"

Yoonhee clarifies the episode's agenda: "You'll read the tweets about Jimin, and he'll read yours. Take turns, though."

After giving the staff another thumbs-up, Jimin snatches the red bucket back and waits impatiently for Taehyung to grab the blue one. 

"I'm older; I go first.” Jimin mixes the papers around, getting a little dramatic with it. 

Considering how big of a deal Jimin’s appearance is on the show, he thinks he's allowed to have fun with it. He's the first idol to participate in BuzzFeed's Thirst Tweets series. There have been Korean rappers on the show but no K-pop idols. Jimin knows he's becoming a trailblazer and perhaps a trendsetter. Undoubtedly, other idols will follow his lead and accept offers from BuzzFeed to participate in mature content like this in the future.

Being on the show is thrilling, to say the least. It's also terrifying because Jimin knows that some fans (and antis) will hate him for this, but there will also be fans who will be more than enthusiastic about watching the episode. He's also somewhat nervous about the tweets themselves. After watching other celebrities' episodes, Jimin has gotten an idea of what fans have to say… and they're definitely comments unlike anything he's ever heard, even going beyond what Hoseok has shown him.

None of that is anything Jimin can worry about now that he's here and the cameras are rolling. He hopes the resolution isn't too high because he's already sweating under the bright lights. At least he’s wearing a black shirt. 

"Are you ready, V?" Jimin waggles his eyebrows.

"Honestly, I don't think you're ready, but let's go."

Clearing his throat, Jimin holds out the first slip of paper and reads, "Kim Taehyung's hands would be the perfect necklace… I'm just saying."

When the words leave his lips, Jimin feels regret slowly trickling through his veins. It was his understanding that the tweets would start off harmless and grow exponentially more explicit. Apparently, their episode will take a different approach…

"Hmm, a choker," Taehyung hums with an appreciative nod. 

"Taehyung!" Jimin's dangly earrings swing as he whips his head to the side to look at him.

"What? That's what they're talking about." Leaning in, Taehyung presses his palm to Jimin's throat and loosely curves his long fingers around it. The multiple gold rings adorning his fingers are cold against Jimin’s skin. "I see it."

"Go away!" Jimin sputters, pushing Taehyung's arm from him. 

Heat blooms across Jimin’s face, and his stomach turns and dips, a rollercoaster of sensations tumbling through him. He fights the urge to touch his throat where Taehyung had, where his heart frantically pulses. He can smell his scent spike with something sweeter than his usual vanilla. It's so sweet that his tongue and throat feel thick with it, to the point that it's almost unbearable. 

The room they're in is spacious to accommodate the set and camera crew, but Taehyung is sitting right next to Jimin, close enough that their knees bump into each other when they shift in their chairs. The crew might not notice the change in Jimin's scent yet, but there's no way Taehyung can't notice it from having his hand around Jimin’s throat.

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Taehyung plucks a slip of paper from the blue bucket. 

"Oh," Taehyung says with a smug smirk. The look on his face as he silently reads the tweet to himself makes Jimin's already nervous stomach twist into knots that sit heavily in his gut.

"Just read it," Jimin's command ends with a lilt, not a whine but something breathy that borders on distress. 

Taehyung stalls for a second longer as he chews his bottom lip between his front teeth. When Taehyung finally reads the tweet aloud, Jimin decides to murder Seokjin when they get home for letting them agree to be on the show.

"There are two kinds of people in this world: people who would sell their homes, kidneys, and souls to cum on Park Jimin's motherfucking lips, and liars."

For the record, Jimin isn’t as innocent as the K-pop industry tries to make its idols appear. He’s had sex, although not as much as the average guy, probably. It’s a little challenging to find the time and the right person. Most of the alphas Jimin has been with are also idols or other types of celebrities, people who understand nondisclosure agreements and have ones of their own. It’s too stressful to look for lust or love at tables other than the luxurious one he sits at. 

But never in Jimin’s life has he ever heard such words uttered in his direction. Although Jimin knows it’s just a tweet, that some stranger out there had delulu hours and wanted to express their love for Jimin in a… creative way, Jimin can’t move past the fact that Taehyung is saying it. Taehyung didn’t write it, but he’s saying it. Jimin is sitting here, watching Taehyung’s lips move, and he’s hearing Taehyung say he wants to cum on Jimin’s lips. 

Inhaling sharply, Jimin adverts his eyes. If he’s not looking at Taehyung, he’s looking at the camera. He’s not sure which is worse. 

The image of himself looking up at Taehyung while on his knees with parted lips slippery with cum, floods Jimin's mind. He swears he licks his lips in real life and tastes something sweet. 

It’s his lip balm, of course. That’s all. 

"I… don't know what to say," Jimin mumbles, already sweating through the armpits of his shirt. Starring in this episode is way worse than he expected, but there’s no way he’s going to let his perverted intrusive thoughts ruin everything.

“Thank you for the compliment, maybe,” Taehyung smirks as he crumples up the slip of paper and tosses it at Jimin. It bounces off the side of Jimin’s head, and some of the BuzzFeed staff giggle. “Now read another one of mine.” 

The tips of Jimin’s ears and the apples of his cheeks are on fire, but that isn’t an unusual reaction from more conservative or innocent celebrities featured on the show. Jimin is sure his fans will think he’s cute; they can all laugh about this later. What’s killing him is how strongly his scent wavers, spiking and dying out in fluctuations that follow the path of Taehyung’s eyes gliding from the little strips of paper to Jimin’s pink face. 

“Alright…” Jimin side-eyes the camera, only now realizing he has twisted his body so that he’s turned more toward Taehyung than the camera crew. He swallows and tries not to breathe too loudly into the little microphone clipped to his shirt. 

"Sometimes V’s voice be so deep I feel that shit tapping my cervix.”

As Jimin reads the tweet aloud, a reminder of the smooth, smoldering tone Taehyung uses with his fans during Weverse lives filters through his mind like hypnosis. Although the tweet isn’t anatomically relevant to Jimin, it deepens his embarrassment anyway.

“How the fuck are people so creative?” Taehyung asks with his hand out so Jimin can pass the paper to him for further inspection. “I wanna meet these people. We need to talk about some music content because there’s something interesting here. There’s good lyric potential.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Jimin rolls his eyes as he huffs.

Something about how Taehyung looks at him makes him feel like Taehyung isn’t falling for the little show he’s putting on. Jimin isn’t intentionally huffing and puffing to mask his embarrassment. He also doesn’t think it’s working, even if it was his intention. 

“This is lyricism, Jimin.” 

“It’s vulgar.” 

“Am I not vulgar?” Taehyung’s smile is sly, slippery, and slight. It’s sneaky enough to coax little sparks within the embers of the pit of Jimin’s stomach. 

“Just read another one, V.”

The segment runs longer than Jimin expects, though he knows most of the content won’t make the final cut. From what Jimin has seen, the videos uploaded to YouTube rarely last more than ten minutes. Whatever the editing process is, Jimin would like to be part of it. There’s no way he’s walking away from this experience without knowing what’s going into it.

“We only got two left, I’m pretty sure,” Taehyung says as he selects another slip of paper.

Jimin looks down at the final slip of paper in his bucket. What feels like hundreds of slips later, Jimin’s palms have left dark streaks on the thighs of his pants from how many times he has tried to nervously dry the sweat off them.

"This is another good one…” Taehyung’s smile is wicked. “I want Park Jimin to aggressively rail me. Like, you see how passionate he gets when he dances… Imagine him using that passion... elsewhere."

Sitting straight in his chair, Jimin looks past the camera lens to Yoonhee.

“Is this real? People actually posted these things?” Jimin rubs his hands on his thighs again, but his pants’ material is too smooth to fully dry the sweat from his palms. 

The crew laughs, a few of them reassuring Jimin that these are, in fact, very real. Taehyung’s laughter stands out among them; when doesn’t he stand out to Jimin?

“What, you don’t think people want you to fuck them?”

Jimin ignores Taehyung’s question. His eyes are too sparkly, and Jimin might be paranoid, but he thinks he notices Taehyung sniffing slightly, just a subtle inhale that feels different than a normal breath.

Jimin shifts in his seat so his knees point toward the camera crew.

“I can’t imagine sharing something like this on the internet, that’s all,” Jimin quickly looks into the camera with wide eyes, “I mean, not that it’s bad! I love that my fans are so supportive of me!” 

“Well…” Taehyung’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek when he pauses like he’s trying to decide if he should say what’s on his mind.

Jimin hopes Taehyung won’t, but two years is long enough to know that there is the thinnest of filters between Taehyung’s brain and mouth. 

“A confession like this would be more compelling if you were actually a top,” Taehyung’s smirk doesn’t falter as he speaks, even when Jimin shoves him hard enough to nearly topple Taehyung over. His chair tips to the side with enough momentum that he has to grab Jimin’s arm to stop himself from falling over.

“You can’t air this,” Jimin pleads with Yoonhee.

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung is correct about Jimin’s sexual preferences (of course he is; they’re best friends) or that society labels male omegas as bottoms anyway. Jimin would rather die than give the world permanent access to a clip of Taehyung calling him a bottom. 

It’s bad enough he has had to sit through dozens of statements from Taehyung that feel like sexual propositions. Jimin already feels like he’s going to explode. The least anyone can do is have mercy on him.

“We plan to run the footage past your managers before releasing the episode.” Yoonhee’s nostrils flex as she frowns and slowly shakes her head. "I can request that they share the file with you, too.”

“See, Chim. It’s just for fun.” The balled-up paper slip clinks against the wall of the bucket when Taehyung tosses it in. There’s only one slip left, and Jimin will read it for Taehyung.

“Alright, this is the last one,” Jimin says, uncaring that he isn’t performing well for the camera by speaking too softly. 

A quick scan before Jimin reads the tweet out loud, and he knows that out of all the tweets he has been forced to read, this one is bad enough that he can’t bring himself to look at the camera or Taehyung in the eyes while he reads it. He can barely force it out of his mouth.

“I cry myself to sleep at night knowing I'm punished to live a life where I…” Jimin trails off, interrupting himself by biting his bottom lip. He drags his teeth against the supple flesh and hopes his makeup is covering even the slightest pink undertones his cheeks may have.

“Where you…” Taehyung encourages with a sharp grin that pierces Jimin in the chest. Taehyung is wicked, oh so wicked, without even knowing how wicked he truly is.

Quickly looking back down, Jimin continues, “I cry myself to sleep at night knowing I’m punished to live a life where I cannot ride Kim Taehyung's face until I'm numb from overstimulation."

A high whistle echoes through the room, Taehyung shaking his head as his lips unpucker and curl into a smirk. 

“Wow,” is all Taehyung says. He stares at Jimin, who stares at the slip of paper in his hands, and folds his arms against his chest. “Wow.” 

Jimin hasn’t ever cried himself to sleep at night over Taehyung, but he has lost sleep over him, and he supposes that isn’t too different. Has he thought about riding Taehyung’s face until he’s numb from overstimulation? 

Well, he is now.

Taehyung must notice Jimin’s eyes fall to his mouth because he brings his hand to his face and runs his index finger along his bottom lip. The movement is slow and uncoordinated, with Taehyung’s finger slipping a few times and pulling down his lip in the middle. It almost looks absent-minded. 

Jimin doesn’t believe him one bit. 

The tweet makes sense, though. Taehyung has nice lips, not as full as Jimin’s, but still shapely. His nose is sharp, his chin and jaw defined, and his tongue… Well, let’s just say that Jimin is fully aware of Taehyung’s oral fixation from how seductive his stage presence is. 

“Should we say our goodbyes?” Yoonhee asks, pulling Jimin out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, yes, I think so.” Ducking his head, Jimin realizes he’s been staring at Taehyung this whole time, not once commenting on the tweet he just read. 

The staff’s laughter only intensifies Jimin’s flustered state as he and Taehyung thank their future audience for watching their episode. 

“We hope you enjoy our upcoming album, Midnight Ride. Jimin and I have worked hard, and we appreciate your love and support.” Taehyung is unfathomably smooth as he delivers the episode’s ending ment. 

Jimin walks out of the room on shaky legs.

Perhaps if Jimin was returning home after the BuzzFeed recording, he’d be okay. He could have the rest of the day to process every dirty thing that came out of Taehyung’s mouth (the most damaging: “I just need to eat Park Jimin’s ass”) and his own mouth (the most embarrassing: “Unhinged Tae thot? After he fingers you he does his signature V pose to lick his fingers”) in peace. He could lie in bed and tell himself that none of this means anything. Anyone would feel strange after hearing their best friend say such vulgar things about them or have to be the one to say the vulgar things. It’s supposed to be uncomfortable. That’s sort of the whole point of the bit. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t have the luxury of going home to reevaluate his life choices. Instead, he slides into the back seat of the car waiting for him and Taehyung outside the BuzzFeed headquarters, and pretends his heart doesn’t leap out of his chest when Taehyung grabs his waist to help him. 

“The venue isn’t far,” their driver announces once Jimin and Taehyung are seated. 

Jungkook, the photographer they’ve hired to handle their concept photos, chose an interesting setting: a seedy-looking nightclub in Hongdae that Jimin is unfamiliar with. 

“Would you like the partition up?” the driver asks. 

Taehyung always prefers privacy in most aspects of his life except when it benefits him to be seen. Jimin doesn’t care much. He has learned how to deal with an idol’s life of constant surveillance. 

As the partition barrier goes up, blocking the driver from seeing and hearing whatever happens in the back seat, Jimin feels his skin prickle with warmth. It’s so odd; his heat has been over for days now. There’s no reason he should still feel uncomfortable body temperature fluctuations. Yet here he is, shivering and clammy. 

“Did you have fun?” Taehyung sounds smug, maybe even a little snarky, but his expression is neutral when Jimin peeks at him from the corner of his eye. 

“I guess you could say that…” 

Ah, there’s the smirk. It’s subtle, just the tiniest twitch of the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, but Jimin notices. He notices most things, finding it hard not to be drawn to Taehyung whenever he’s in the room. Even now, when embarrassment from the BuzzFeed recording has Jimin’s scent so sweet it’s almost tart, he still leans into Taehyung to rest his head on his shoulder. For comfort – just as friends do. 

“Did you have fun?” Jimin asks, tilting his head to look up at Taehyung. 

“Mhm,” Taehyung turns his face slightly to rest his cheek atop Jimin’s head, “I enjoyed watching you get all red and sweaty over it.” 

“Shut up!” 

Taehyung’s laughter is all teeth and crinkled eyes. His shoulders shake, bouncing Jimin’s head up and down, but Jimin doesn’t mind. Taehyung is cute, even when it’s at Jimin’s expense. 

“The internet is a nasty place,” Jimin sighs once Taehyung’s laughter has subsided. “Creative, but nasty.” 

“I find it flattering.”

Jimin watches Taehyung play with the many gold rings adorning his fingers, some fingers with more than one band slipped over them. Compared to Jimin’s stubby fingers, Taehyung’s are long and pretty, not too knobby, and end with finely manicured nails. Even his cuticles are perfect. Jimin can’t help but think about the first tweet he read and how nice the pressure of Taehyung’s hand was against his throat. 

“Flattering?” Jimin breathes, struggling to drag his eyes away. 

“You don’t think it is?” 

Jimin wonders if Taehyung really does lick the slick off his fingers in a “V” shape after fingering an omega, can’t stop his mind from wandering to all the female omegas Taehyung has hooked up with in the two years Jimin has known him. Jimin doesn’t have much additional brainpower to spend contemplating if finding sexual commentary about himself on social media platforms is flattering.

“I was just surprised, I guess.” Jimin grows quiet as he watches Taehyung reach for his hand, lacing their fingers together so he can pull Jimin’s hand into his lap. Their size difference never fails to make Jimin’s heart flutter, though he ignores it rather well. 

“You don’t go on the internet enough,” Taehyung flicks Jimin’s fingers, paying particular attention to his pinky, “I’ve seen dirtier commentary on Korea’s sweetheart, Park Jimin. Stuff that would make me look tame. Especially from Americans. They’re unhinged over there.”

Jimin doesn’t believe him, but he keeps quiet. It’s better that way since Taehyung flips Jimin’s hand to rest on his thigh, palm up, so he can trace the lines that web it. Taehyung’s light touch tickles and Jimin is still weirdly sensitive. 

“That’s why I avoid looking myself up…” Jimin eventually says. 

Taehyung hums in response, his mind gone somewhere new, while Jimin tries not to wiggle under his touch. He brushes his thumb along Jimin’s wrist, stimulating his scent gland. Vanilla and bourbon go well together, dark but warm and comforting enough that Jimin becomes drowsy. 

Exhausted from Yoongi and Seokjin being forced to book their promotional activities back-to-back due to “Spoiler Gate,” Jimin doesn’t fully wake up until they arrive at the nightclub. By then, he’s fully pressed into Taehyung’s side, his face tucked against his neck. 

Jimin no longer frequents Hongdae, but this nightclub isn’t his vibe anyway. As Jimin and Taehyung are ushered inside by Jungkook’s staff waiting for them, Jimin notes how dark and moody the club is. It’s industrial, with intentional graffiti, and designed to look like the warehouse nightclubs popular in the States, the ones Jimin supposes are for raves and underground music. 

In his casual streetwear of joggers and a fitted hoodie that stretches over his upper body muscles, Taehyung looks right at home, though they’ll both need to change outfits for the photoshoot. 

It’s strange to be in a nightclub during the day. Jungkook chose the venue after Jimin and Taehyung gave him the creative license to do whatever he wanted with their photoshoot. It’s risky, literally letting a photographer call all the shots, but Jimin assumes nothing will be as big of a risk as releasing an album with Taehyung. Besides, Jungkook has an impressive portfolio of gorgeous images he has captured of other celebrities over the years, and dreamscape worked with him in the past. 

The only danger to their photoshoot is Taehyung. 

It doesn’t take long to get ready for the photoshoot, although Jimin always spends more time with the stylists than Taehyung. With his additional free time, Taehyung catches up with Jungkook, whom he hasn’t seen in a while. They’re friends through the music industry but not directly because of their careers. They just so happened to meet each other through their mutual tattoo artist, who is well sought after by celebrities with plenty of money to drop on intricate tattoos. Both men are inked up all over their upper bodies. As uncommon as it is in South Korea, their body art makes them even more attractive to fans and celebrities. 

Not that Jimin ever thinks about anything like that. The fact that Taehyung has arm and chest tattoos has nothing to do with Jimin, of course.

When Jimin steps into the main room of the nightclub, where the large dance floor is, he’s greeted by Taehyung’s naked abdomen. 

“Got this one a couple days ago.” Taehyung lifts his shirt and points to a square patch of see-through bandage stuck with adhesive to his ribcage. 

Jungkook's camera is slung over his shoulder so he can bend slightly to examine the new tattoo through the plastic-like covering. 

The tattoo is one Jimin has seen before, but only once when Taehyung first got it. Despite their fairly regular sleepovers, Jimin rarely sees Taehyung without clothes on. It’s for the best, honestly. Ever since Taehyung came back from his enlistment, he maintained the muscular physique he’d nurtured while fulfilling his duty. Most alphas do; it’s just that Taehyung is always special in Jimin’s eyes. 

“Fuck me,” Jungkook mutters, looking up at Taehyung, “How bad was it?”

“Man, hurt like a bitch.” 

Jimin snorts, making Taehyung’s amber eyes look towards him. 

“When I got my ribs done, it wasn’t so bad. Alphas just have a lower pain tolerance than omegas.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Jungkook says with an appreciative nod. 

Taehyung grins in a certain way that tells Jimin he’s about to say something terrible. Jimin doesn’t know how he knows; he just knows that he does, and he goes to scold Taehyung in advance but opens his mouth too late. 

“Taehyung, don’t you–” 

“It’s because you gotta take knots all the time,” Taehyung snickers, earning a smack in the stomach from Jungkook. Despite being an alpha, too, Jungkook has at least some decorum. 

Jimin hates how shy Taehyung’s comment makes him, and he turns his face to avoid looking at him. Maybe there’s some science behind Taehyung’s speculation. Maybe Taehyung is just a stupid alpha sometimes. 

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook lifts his camera from where it’s looped over his shoulder, “Let’s get this shit over with so we can get done before this place has to open for the evening.” 

The nightclub provides a gritty backdrop for their photos. It’s fitting, considering the album explores concepts like sensuality, forbidden romances, and a sense of belonging in spaces where it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. BDSM or not, Jimin values the nuances of their songs. Even the concept of a forbidden romance is less about a relationship with another person and more about Jimin feeling forbidden from exploring his identity as an adult in the K-pop industry. 

For Taehyung, the songs may be literal, but Jimin knows his best friend well enough to be sure that there’s more to him than surface-level sexual lyrics. 

“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks as he brings his camera up to his face. He analyzes the scene they’ve set up, and Jimin can practically see the creative gears turning in his brain. 

“Is this the last thing on my schedule for the day?” Taehyung already knows none of them can answer his question. Only Yoongi would be able to, and he isn’t here. 

Seokjin isn’t attending the photoshoot either, though Jimin already knew he would be busy with other important matters. It makes Jimin no difference; he has done countless photo concept shoots. He and Taehyung should be in and out without much of a fuss. 

Jungkook starts with a few photos at the bar counter that make it appear that Jimin and Taehyung are genuinely getting drinks at a bar. He ensures that Jimin and Taehyung get equal opportunities for solo shots and ones together. Other photos are more artistic, sometimes merely of the setting or close-ups of Jimin and Taehyung’s clothing – outfits they changed into for the shoot. Jimin and Taehyung complement each other well; their outfits don't quite match, but they're still in harmony. Their stylists leaned heavily into the dark, mature aesthetic of the album – opting for neutral color palettes, few patterns, and just shy of too much leather.

Taehyung was especially thrilled when one of the stylists fastened a leather necklace on Jimin, one too similar to a collar for Jimin’s liking. 

“Nice choker,” Taehyung had snickered when he maneuvered around the stylists who fiddled with Jimin’s clothes and makeup. 

Jimin chose to ignore such an inappropriate comment. And although Jimin is entirely out of his element in adopting this aesthetic, he has always enjoyed playing dress-up. What idol doesn’t? 

Once finished with the bar backdrop, Jungkook leads Jimin and Taehyung to a different room separate from the main dance floor. Blanketed in soft velvet furniture and red lighting, the second room is a VIP lounge. It feels sultry, even with the absence of people and the heavy bass of club music. 

“Taehyung-ssi, can you put your arm across the back of the couch? Just let it hang limp.” 

For a fraction of a second, Jimin tenses when Taehyung follows Jungkook’s orders by draping his arm over the back of the couch where Jimin sits beside him. The movement reminds Jimin of the teenage cliche, the slow reach behind someone’s date at the movies, trying their best to appear nonchalant when everyone knows they’re trembling inside. 

“Perfect.” 

Jungkook either doesn’t notice how tense Jimin is, or he thinks it’s all an act for the camera. He takes a few quick photos before directing Jimin and Taehyung to new positions on the red velvet couch. 

“Alright, this time, I need you to face each other and give me something that screams Midnight Ride. I need something dark, spicy, something… enchanting. People need to see the chemistry between you. Think you can manage that?” 

Jimin scrunches his eyebrows and stares at Jungkook, who nearly vibrates from creative enthusiasm. “Chemistry? Why would we need to have that?” 

They do, but Jimin doesn’t understand why that matters. 

“Come on, Chim. It’s just for fun,” Taehyung murmurs, running his fingers along Jimin’s jaw with enough pressure to bring his face forward again. “You know how to be enchanting. Hit me with those siren eyes of yours that everyone loves.” 

It should be easy; Jimin knows exactly what Taehyung is talking about. Part of the effect is having the right makeup and a perfect mindset. When it comes to his job, performing and presenting himself as an idol, Jimin is a professional at being alluring. 

This photoshoot is different, though. Taehyung is the alluring one, his features sharp and haunting in the VIP room’s red lights. The lighting does nothing to mute the teasing glint in his eyes; if anything, the color enhances the mischievous gleam. Jimin would shy away from such a gaze if it weren’t for Taehyung maintaining light pressure on the edge of his jaw to keep him in place.  

“Perfect, absolutely perfect,” Jungkook’s praises sound far away and waver like the summer air rippling with heat as it rises from the asphalt. 

Taehyung chuckles, and the light caress of his breath makes Jimin’s skin tingle. It doesn’t help that they’re sitting so closely that their knees bump, and Jimin is inundated with Taehyung’s uninhibited alpha pheromones. He’s amused, his scent telling Jimin that he falls somewhere between genuinely happy and wickedly mocking. For some reason, Jimin feels embarrassed either way. 

“Jimin-ssi, can you follow Taehyungie hyung’s lead?” 

Maybe? No? Jimin doesn’t know what Jungkook is asking of him. Midnight Ride is sultry, dark, and mature. If someone asked Taehyung what it’s about, point blank, he’d say it’s about sex. And it is, even though Jimin respects the nuances. Some songs are genuinely only about sex, and sex sells. Not that Jimin and Taehyung need to be sexual for their music to perform well. It’s just fun. Jimin is finally letting himself admit that. 

Taking a deep breath, Jimin tries to force himself into the headspace he needs for this look. He focuses on how free “Hurt So Good” makes him feel seductive and powerful. It is a reminder that Jimin can do anything he sets his mind to, even if it hurts. Even if a part of him craves that hurt because it gives him something to strive for and adversity to overcome. 

Like the strange feelings he has for Taehyung. They hurt so badly, especially now when Taehyung is so close, and he smells so good, and all Jimin can think about is how wrong his fans are because he and Taehyung aren’t together. They’re friends, and Jimin is okay with that. He doesn’t have actual feelings for Taehyung. He’s confused, a little lost, and hopelessly ruled by the tricks being with a co-lead can play on idols who collaborate. Jimin imagines it’s the same as how some actors get swept up in their emotions when taking on a romance role. 

“Why are you upset?” Taehyung asks quietly, and Jimin hopes Jungkook doesn’t hear them over his camera's click and the staff chattering in the background. 

Jimin is too quick to answer, “I’m not.” 

“Your scent is telling me otherwise.”

With the click of the camera shutters, it’s likely impossible for Jungkook to not have captured Taehyung subtly scenting Jimin by pressing his wrist against his neck. He drags his wrist downward and then around the back to grab Jimin’s nape. They both know Jungkook won’t use the photos of such an intimate moment, no matter how small. 

The scenting works as it always does when Jimin is with Taehyung. He leans into Taehyung more, feeling his body relax and his chest become lighter. 

Though it may be more than just the scenting. Taehyung fully cups his palm around Jimin’s nape and presses down slightly, pulling Jimin in further until he’s forced to close his eyes because they’re too close together to look at Taehyung without his eyes crossing. 

“I think we should give everyone something worth talking about,” Taehyung whispers, though Jimin catches his smug tone quickly. 

He doesn’t want to ask and is afraid of the answer, but the question slips out anyway. “Like what?”

Rather than respond, Taehyung keeps his hand against Jimin’s neck when he kisses him. The pressure isn’t forceful, though; Jimin can easily pull away. 

He doesn’t. 

It’s gentle how Taehyung’s lips lock with Jimin’s, but it isn’t innocent. He nibbles Jimin’s bottom lip hard enough for it to hurt before sucking it into his mouth. Jimin gasps at the pull, and Taehyung’s responding throaty chuckle sparks something hot and electric through Jimin’s body like his veins are hot wires sizzling inside of him from his lips to his toes and the tips of his fingers that dig into the couch cushions. 

What the fuck?

Taehyung’s hand slides upward from Jimin’s nape so he can slip his fingers in his hair. He curls his fingers around the longer strands in the back and tugs so slightly that it hardly moves Jimin’s head, but enough to make Jimin whimper – quiet but still embarrassing. 

“Uhh, I don’t know if I can use this…” Jungkook’s voice chisels between Jimin and Taehyung, forcing them to part. 

Taehyung's calm and steady breaths contrast sharply with Jimin's quick and sharp inhales. Jimin grips the couch cushions tightly, unable to get his lungs to cooperate.

What the fuck, what the fuck?

“Why? Are you scared of Jinnie hyung’s wrath?” Taehyung leans back against the arm of the couch. He’s so casual and relaxed, as if he hasn’t nearly made Jimin slick in front of everyone. 

“Duh, I am. I’m not trying to lose my job over you guys being controversial,” Jungkook admits with a pout, but he takes a few more photos anyway. 

According to Jungkook, they’ve got enough content to work with. Jimin knew the photoshoot wouldn’t take long, but the rest of the poses Jungkook puts them in after The Kiss make Jimin feel like jelly. Nothing else comes nearly as close as provocative, but it doesn’t matter. Jimin can’t get his head straight. He follows Taehyung and Jungkook to a few more rooms in the nightclub with a spacey look on his face that seems to please Taehyung if his honeyed scent is to be trusted. 

Why would Taehyung kiss him? Jimin doesn’t understand. 

He intently watches Taehyung for the rest of the photoshoot and continues to do so once they’re back in the car and are dropped off at their respective apartments. Taehyung behaves normally, chatting away about how exhausting promo schedules are, that he doesn't understand how Jimin could handle dreamscape’s comebacks, and how he needs to reconnect with Jungkook outside of work more often. His energy is slowly depleting from the day’s activities, but he’s got that sparkle in his eyes that Jimin loves so much. 

Essentially, Taehyung is unaffected. 

It’s controversial, as Jungkook said. A wow factor. Something to make people talk. Taehyung is known for causing scenes and pushing boundaries; Jimin shouldn’t be surprised that he’d want to do the same for their album. 

But when Taehyung daps Jimin up in goodbye when they reach his apartment first, never once looking back as he jogs to the front doors, Jimin feels his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. It’s just a game, one in which Taehyung is a professional.

Later, when Jimin is snuggled in bed, he tries not to let his thoughts wander. He doesn’t try very hard, especially when he lets himself pick his bottom lip with his index finger and thumb, playing with the middle pillowy part Taehyung had wrapped his lips around. It’s like he’s in a trance, or maybe he’s high off of his needy pheromones, unable to rip himself away from thoughts about The Kiss. 

He got his wish: now he knows Taehyung’s lips are even softer than they look. The thing is, he can’t blame hormones this time. 

Luckily, it’s just a game. 

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

divine intervention

you'll do anything to have your own baby one day - even to go against your morals and allow a wiccan to help you. same universe as metamorphosis

warning: cheating/affair, cursing, mentions of infertility and miscarriages, blood (reader is cut), rituals, smut, licking, voyeurism, breeding kink, creampie, character death, nipple sucking/play, dirty talk, oral sex, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, fingering, begging, character deaths, slight degradation/humiliation, deepthroating, face slapping, blood drinking/cannibalism, rough sex

word count: 10.243

Halloween Masterlist

@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader

You’re wet and cold, body trembling as the harsh rain fully covers your frame. You’re blinking away droplets of rain water from your eyelashes, eyes staring right at your target. You stopped dead in tracks when you noticed the familiar car park right into the parking lot and got out of said car - the passenger door had opened as well.

You had gotten out of your car prepared to confront him, but you didn’t. Your heart sank when  they both entangled their fingers together, hearing a few struggling laughter even through the rain, as they ran towards the motel doors.

You watched as your husband entered the motel room with the woman - obviously who he was going to leave you for - and closed the door behind them. Through the closed blind, you witness the lights flicker on and behind them, their silhouette engulfing in a hug.

You swallow thickly, your throat hurting as you think about the fact that your marriage was going to be ending - and yet maybe you should’ve listened to him the first time when he asked for said divorce. You had only thought he was upset with you and eventually, the both of you would come together once more.

Your legs pick up and you’re stomping towards the motel room. Your heart is already shattered and now you’re angry.

You didn’t deserve this. You were a good wife to him and you remained by his side with all the bullshit he went through - all the shit he has put you through. In the end, where did it leave you both? Down the path of a divorce while you sit at home alone and he’s out with another woman.

You stop right outside the motel door, contemplating if you should be doing this now. It was a week prior when you caught sight of the motel receipt - you had been washing clothes and decided to wash his. You checked his pockets to assure nothing would be damaged and in the end, only your heart was. No man is going to a motel in the same town he lives in if it wasn’t because he was creeping with another woman.

There were signs - of course there were signs. You chose to ignore them all. The sudden “work phone calls” and “staying overtime” should have struck you as off - but you were blinded by love for your husband that you didn’t allow yourself to see what the fuck was in front of you.

Your fist connects with the door rapidly, banging against it with all your might that your knuckles begin to throb - but you didn’t give a damn at this moment. You had gone to the same motel each night that he had not come home and waited to see if his car would be here - and tonight you happened to be lucky.

There’s shuffling behind the door and when it swings open is when you attack, your fist connecting to the face of your husband. The woman screams in shock and comes between the two of you.

“What the hell-”

Maybe it was the adrenaline that gives you such strength and courage. Maybe the rain and heavy wind has caused you to get sick faster than usual and now you have super powers; who the hell knows? It only took one punch for the woman to fall onto her ass and clench her nose and by the end of it all, you know that you’d feel guilty because surely this wasn’t her fault. She didn’t owe you any loyalty.

“Y/N!”

Your husband is grabbing your shoulders, eyes wide at the act of being caught red-handed. “How did you-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You hiss, having no desire to explain yourself to him. It was you that needed to be asking the important questions. “This is the overtime you’re putting in?” you ask him. “This,” you point to the woman on the ground. “is the work calls?”

Your husband shakes his head, unable to form words. What could he truly say? It was obvious that this was an affair and you weren’t dumb enough to fall for any more lies when it was slapped in your face like this. 

“Listen-”

“When did it start?” you interrupt once more. “How long-”

“I asked for a divorce!” your husband hisses and instantly sighs. He didn’t want to do this here. “Can we talk-”

“We can talk right here.” you say, yanking yourself away when he goes to reach for you. “So that’s it? You want a divorce?” you scoff. “After I stayed when all your business ventures went to shit? All your investments went downhill?”

Your husband's eyes widen at your words and he takes a step back.

“Don’t look like that now.” you scoff. “It was my money that kept us afloat.”

“My apologies, Y/N, for not being a trust fund baby!” your husband retorts. “I don’t have mommy and daddies money to fall back on like you do!”

You lick your lips, swallowing back more harsh insults you could dish out. You nod your head with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“We’ve been together for years and the relationship has gone nowhere.” your husband states. “I thought a divorce would be mutual-”

“Mutual?” you snort. 

“You know what I want, Y/N.” he murmurs. “We both know what we want and you cannot do it. I can’t…” his eyes blink away from your face, unable to look you in the eye as he says it. “...I don’t want to adopt. I want to have my own child. And you don’t want to do surrogacy-”

“You’re divorcing me because I cannot carry a child.” you state. “I see.”

“It’s deeper than that, Y/N and you know it.”

“What else is there?” you ask. “We were fine prior to me finding out.” One too many miscarriages to be exact. You recall the day your heart sank when you were told the low possibility of you actually having a child - and you refused to keep trying to just get let down.

“Tomorrow,” you began, eyes glancing at the woman. She doesn’t look at you and you wonder just who she is and what her intentions were with your husband - now ex. Was she planning on getting into a relationship with him or was this just them fucking in cheap motels? “you can come get you stuff from the house.”

Your husband swallows but he nods.

“I’ll have my mommy and daddy call our family lawyer.” you say, voice laced with sarcasm and venom. “We’ll sort something out. I’ll tell you this now that the most I’m willing to let you keep is your car.”

Your husband watches you leave, back out in the heavy rain. You enter your car and sit for a moment, mind racing with the events that just transpire. The rain hides your view of outside your windshield and you have yet to start your car. You sit idly in the cold car and listen to the sound of said rain hit against it.

It doesn’t get easier with time, you note, and your home only feels empty and cold without his presence. You told yourself this was for the best - this is what he wanted after all. Soon, the divorce will be finalized and he will be someone else’s problem.

Even now you sit alone in a diner, stirring your tea. It’s quiet and only low music plays through the speakers. It’s also not busy, an older couple sitting a few tables away.

You shouldn’t be here now. This is where you and your ex-husband came at any given moment as it was 24 hours and it’s pathetic that this is where you went because you didn’t wish to be home.

“You’re sad.”

You’re startled by the voice speaking suddenly and your eyes blink upwards to the woman sitting across from you. She appears to be out of place here. She seems to be wearing robes - a crimson color with a spec of gold trimming. Her head is covered by a hood of the same color and you’re unable to make out her face just yet as her head is bowed. Her hands are placed onto the table and you noticed she’s wearing gold jewelry 

You sit straighter, unaware who this woman was and why she was here. You had not heard her sit down, either, and that strikes you as odd.

“Is it that obvious?” you murmur, scoffing to yourself. 

“Your aura is sad.” the woman speaks. “You’re hurting. Emotionally, of course.”

You realized that this entire time you had been stirring your tea. You stopped and took out the spoon from the tea cup and placed it aside. You slowly nod your head. “I suppose you’re correct.” you say, unsure why you’re speaking to a complete stranger who appeared out of thin air. 

You take a sip of your tea, the flavor of chai hitting your taste buds only makes you hum. At least there was one good memory of this diner and it was the tea. Nonetheless, you turn your eyes back to the woman. “I must look utterly miserable if you noticed how sad I looked.” you attempt to joke - to lighten the mood.

“I can’t see you.” the woman says and now you notice that she indeed could not. She lifts her head to your direction and her eyes are white. It catches you by surprise and she appears to be looking right at you.

“I-I didn’t know that.” you murmur, now feeling embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed in the beginning. “How could you tell then?”

For a moment, the woman is quiet and you could practically feel the hair on your arms rise. You’re unsure what to say yourself - you had several questions. Who was this woman and where did she come from? How could she feel your sadness as she did not know you or your situation?

“I could sense it - a great deal of pain coming from you.” the woman speaks. “You’re lonely.”

You snicker to yourself, quite bitterly. A blind woman can tell that you were a lonely mess of a woman.

“I lost my husband.” you say, taking another sip of your tea. “He isn’t dead, though. Just dead to me.” you tell her. 

It’s crazy that you sense no threat to this woman who would have struck you as weird if it was any other moment. You didn’t have the desire to speak to your friends about your divorce just yet and get a “I told you so” reaction from them like you had with your parents. This woman didn’t know you and maybe that was better.

“I married him because I loved him and I thought he loved me.” you continue. “But when times went hard, I suppose “til death do us part” was just easier said than done.” you shrug your shoulders. 

“I can feel you’re upset about him, however…” the woman tilts her head a bit, as if reading more into the situation. “...you aren’t just upset about him.”

You nod your head - even if she couldn’t see you do so. “Yeah.” you admit. “I have no husband and I cannot have children. So,” you laugh at your situation. Obviously you’ve done something in your past life to deserve this, surely? “I suppose I’m upset with myself and life in general.”

“Have you always wished to be a mother?”

You have.

You always pondered what motherhood would be like for you. You recall how you and your mother did things together - how loving she was. How understanding she could be. She would scold you when you were wrong, sure, but she loved you nonetheless and truly did want what was best.

You had the financial stability to raise a child in and that was one of the reasons why you wished to be a mother, as having a child without that support would never be an option for you.

“Yes.” you respond to the woman. “I suppose…the universe has other plans for me.” you say with a shake of your head. “I could always adopt but…it’ll be a little harder now that I’m going through a divorce.”

Fuck your husband, truly. You begin to think about what if you just agreed and went through with the surrogacy - maybe then you’d have a husband and a baby.

But your mind told you that it wasn’t realistic. That if he loved you, nothing would have tore him away from you.

You swallow.

“I’m positive you can get pregnant.” the woman speaks and you want to thank her for her positivity - but if the doctors didn’t see you going through with a pregnancy, then you’re sure you couldn’t. “Your spirit just rejected the man you wished to have a child with.”

You raise a brow at her words. She was a spiritual woman, obviously, as she states she could feel your aura. 

“You think so?” you ask her. You wouldn’t push her away as some sort of crazy woman with too many screws loose. 

The woman nods. “Our spirit...sometimes will not accept who we wish to procreate with.” she speaks. “It’s an act of protection. This man was not the man for you.”

You smile.

The woman's words are kind. She was trying to be positive, you note, and assure that you felt better. You were grateful for her words.

“I could help you.”

“Help…me?” you’re taken aback. “Are you a type of…spiritual doctor?”

The woman’s lips twitch upward. “I’m a wiccan.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you process her words.

“Wiccan…?” you swallow with a slight nod. You should be more frightened than you truly were at the moment for the unknown surrounding this woman. “...how could you help me?” you should be even more frightened by how willing you were to hear her methods.

“There’s methods we can go through to assure you conceive a child.”

This was crazy.

There was no way you could be considering this.

“I…I’ll just end up miscarrying.” you murmur with a shake of your head. 

“I’m positive,” the woman begins. “that you will be able to birth a child.” she sounds certain of herself.

“What is the catch?” you question. “Do you want money?”

The woman shakes her head and she laughs at your words. “Money is not my motive. I want to lift the sadness that surrounds you and fill it with happiness. A child is one of the greatest blessings there is in life.”

You proceed to drink the rest of your tea in one sitting, mind scrambling at the woman's words. 

“If I consider this…just who am I getting impregnated by?” you ask. 

The woman stands suddenly and you see just how long her robs are. “I could give you a week to settle in on it.”

“I-I…how would I see you again?”

“I know where to find you.”

Her words should strike you as odd and you should be frightened that they do not.

“You want to be a single mother?” your mother inhales deeply, her manicured nails on her temples rubbing them in circular motion. “I know going through a divorce isn’t easy but…” she doesn’t finish her words. 

It’s obvious in where she stands. Why in the world would you choose to be a single mother? Though she never liked the idea of you, in her words,  dating a man that was “less than”, she never downright forbade you. If you were happy then it was all she truly wanted.

However, now you were going through a divorce by said man that she always knew was less than deserving of you - and the thought of cheating on the person who gave him a chance was downright insane. 

“I can introduce you to some people!” your mother suggests.

You groan. Great. Your mother was trying to set you up with someone of high status that could care less about you entirely and would only be doing so because they were looking for someone with status.

“Mother,” you wave your hand in front of you dismissively. “Please. I’m going through a divorce and the last thing I want is a partner.”

“But you want a child?” your mother snickers, unable to wrap her head around single motherhood. “W-What…” she swallows. She doesn’t want to be harsh on you in such a fragile moment in your life, but you’re positive you know where she’s going.

What if you have this child and cannot find any man willing (in their eyes) to want to marry a single mother?

You weren’t old and you still had time - but you weren’t sure you wanted to be with anyone. You dipped your toes into married life and this is where it got you - single and still without a child.

“At least if I had a child, it’d be mine.” you sigh. “If I got pregnant sooner, imagine the headache of joint custody.”

Your mother isn’t keen on imagining it. You lean back into your chair, eyes glancing upwards at the high ceiling chandelier. You release a sigh. “I just want to have someone love me forever.” you whisper to yourself. “I want to be able to carry a child. Feel it move inside of me and watch as I grow week by week. Is that too much to ask for?” you question truly.

You glance back at your mother. She’s shaking her head and you’re understanding that she could never truly get where you were coming from. “I will support you in anything you decide to do.” she speaks. “If this is what is going to make you happy…”

You inhale deeply, closing your eyes. You see the woman dressed in the red robes, her white eyes seemingly watching you. It has almost been a week and your mind refuses to go elsewhere.

This is what you wanted, right? You wanted to be a mother and raise a child - even if you didn’t have a partner alongside you. You were only growing older and did you truly wish to get to know someone else and go through the same obstacles you’ve already gone through with your first husband?

“It is what I want.” you exhale, your chest tightening and heart beating rapidly at how long you’ve held your breath. “More than anything…”

It was deep in the night when you saw the woman once more. You had showered and scrubbed your skin clean. The red flags weren’t going off in your head and you never questioned just how the woman knew where you lived. Maybe you’d blame your desperation for a child on why it didn’t strike you as odd.

The woman was not alone. Behind her strolled three more women, all younger than her and instead of being dressed in crimson robes, they sported a dark emerald color. Their hoods are all covering their heads and it’s only when they enter your home do two of them remove it in sync. 

One woman has long coily hair that matches her eyes - dark yet vibrant. Her skin is smooth and underneath the dim light of your home, it appears to glow a deep color similar to espresso. The second woman's hair is short and stops right at her shoulders in a blunt cut - a fierce ginger color that is so bold and it compliments the brownish-green hue of her eyes. You noticed there’s piercings on her skin, four gold ones on the bridge of her nose alone while there’s a few hoops outlining her ears. There’s two small gold hoops on either side of the woman's lips. The final woman keeps her hood on and only could you see her eyes as it appears to be a silk gold scarf wrapped firmly around her neck and mouth, loosely hanging. Her eyes are pierce and it reminds you of that of a cat.

You swallow, captivated by all of the women  - each so different yet so inviting and it takes you a moment to look away. Only when your eyes begin to grow irritated by the lack of blinking moisture do you halt.

“I’m sorry.” you say, body heating with embarrassment. You’re unsure what to say and positive that you didn’t need to apologize as you didn’t do anything. You were nervous and even now, there weren’t any alarms going off in your head. “I have questions….”

It’s the blinded woman that speaks first. “Ask and we shall answer.”

You swallow. Your arms cover with goosebumps as you were wearing little - at their request. It’s a satin night gown that stops at the middle of your thigh and you were instructed on it to be a dark color - preferably black.

“H-How is this going to work?”

The woman offers a soft smile. She begins to walk into your home - deeper as if she’s been here before. You watch, eyes witnessing the way she appears to walk without any issues and you ponder if this woman was truly blind.

But then you had to consider that upon being introduced to you, she stated that she was wiccan - and maybe that had something to do with her overall demeanor. How she could sense your sadness to even now, her showing up at your doorstep and you had not told her explicitly where you lived.

“If I can ask,” you speak up, bare feet patting against the hardwood floor as you follow close behind them. “how am I supposed to be impregnated without…a man?” it’s a logical question that you feel needs an answer - you suppose maybe they had something on them; a vile maybe that could be inserted inside of you. Yet, how good could that be? The sperm could surely not survive that long outside of the body.

But then again, you tell yourself, the woman claimed to be wiccan.

You take a deep breath. 

“There will be a man.” one woman speaks up - it’s the one with coily hair. She turns to you and you halt dead in your tracks. Her voice is low in tone but purely feminine. “It will work as long as you follow our instructions.”

“Indeed.” another woman said - the one with the golden scarf around her speaks. The older woman stopped inside your sitting area, the large room was perfect for the ritual.

“I...am prone to miscarriages.” you murmur. “I wouldn’t wait to wait any of your time if-”

“You let us worry about that.” the woman with the piercings speaks. Her hands place themselves onto your shoulder, her touch warm and soothing. “Come, sit.”

You’re directed to the floor - your sitting room is a large space with several lounge chairs and couches, yet you are instructed to sit on the large rub right in the middle of the room. 

The other woman surrounds you and within a second, the lights in said sitting area are turned off and it’s pitch black. You yelp, clenching your hands to your chest as your heart beats outside of it. 

Before you could speak, there’s a dim light flickering on and around you - candle light. It’s eerie, you’d admit. The orange light flickers off of the faces of the woman surrounding you, the older one right in front of you. Her white eyes appear to be looking down upon you. 

“I-”

“Do not bring yourself to worry. You are completely safe.” the woman speaks, as if reading your mind. “Lay down.”

You take a deep breath and proceed to lay on your back. You want to ask even more questions, but you believe it’s far too late for that now. 

You hear the woman speaking - more like chanting. Your ears perk to understand what they’re saying; but you cannot. Your eyes glances around the dim-lim room at what they were doing. They begin to saunter around you in a circle and you hear a slight sound - as if something is being poured. Your eyes squint to understand what it was - sand? It’s dark, however, as if pure black instead of the light tan the sand color usually would be. 

Your heartbeat quickens, your palms growing sweaty.

The woman is directly behind you now. She peers down at you, white eyes boring into you. You’re quiet and unmoving, far too frightened to say anything. 

Your eyes catch it as she draws closer, the silver dagger in her hand that she comes at you with. You’re paralyzed but your eyes grow wide when she drops the dagger onto your breast and slices either side of them. 

The chanting only grows louder and your mind is screaming at you, the irony smell of your blood only adding to the effects of what the fuck you gotten yourself into.

Your vision begins to blur and the room looks as if it’s smoky - your heart rate skyrockets. It didn’t smell like a fire and neither of the women appeared alarmed that one of their candles was causing it. 

There’s a shadow casted above you that you’re unsure about - it’s sudden and you’re pondering if you were just seeing things. But the shadow only grows larger and your eyes squint to look deeper into the smokey dark.

As the candle-light’s flickers, your heart races faster. Your eyes are wide and unmoving as the tall figure saunters over to you. It’s large and looks purely hellish; demonic. Its skin is a dark red, similar to the woman’s crimson robes. Its eyes are staring down right at you, pupil dark while its iris glows a lime green. On either side of his forehead are goat-like horns and you notice behind his back appears to be like wings similar to that of a bat.

“What is this?”

This had to be some sort of demon - it’s voice is deep as he speaks.

“You were summoned under a contract.”

The demon snarls, his head whipping towards the older woman. His eyes glances around the sigil onto the ground and a few crystals on all five points. An obvious attempt as a protection spell.

“What is it that you want, witch?”

Your eyes are unable to move from the demon before you and for the first time, you’re completely too shocked to speak or react. Your body feels as if it could faint at any moment, but that would require you to get your eyes off of this demon; and you were unable to.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the older woman points down at you. “She is presented to you just as your kind wishes those who seek a child to be.”

The demon glances back at your figure for a moment. He can smell your fear and hear your heart beating - almost as if it’s going to explode. You were human and he could snap you in half with no effort. 

The demon lowers himself to face you, nose inhaling the scent of your blood. 

“Is that all you want?” the demon speaks, but not to you. “What’s your motive, witch?”

“I have no personal gain.” the woman shrugs her shoulders. “I’m one woman that has a desire to help another.”

“Personal gain is what demons have.” one woman speaks, you’re unsure which of the three. 

“Don’t act holier than thou, witch.” the demon seethes. “You summoned me for my help.”

The demon's teeth are sharp as he snaps at the witches - but that’s before turning back to you. You feel your stomach churn when his eyes reach yours and you find yourself gulping.

The demon’s wings begin to flock. It appears to have bat-like wings,a thin membrane of skin connecting from its wings to its back.

The demon lowers to you once more, but this time as his body descends into the shadows, when it emerges his look is different.

Human.

Your eyes scan the features of the demon. Its eyes that were once glowing were now a dull dark brown, one single lid and one double lid eye stare right back at you. He has a heart shaped face and his horns have disappeared and replaced itself with a mop of dark hair. His lips are what catch you first - they’re a rosy pink color, his top lip slightly fuller than his bottom.

Your lips release a short gasp at the sudden change from demon to man - and now you understand the countless stories you’d hear growing up that demons (either if you believed in them or not) could easily persuade anyone away from good. Your once frightened demeanor began to relax at the new sight of an attractive man; not a monster.

Dark eyes never leave yours as the demons head lowered to your chest. A pink split tongue pokes out between his lips and you feel it upon your chest, warm tongue gliding against your bleeding cuts.

“You humans are fragile.” the demon speaks - his once deep voice now sounding more human, but still deeper than you imagined any man to have. “You aren’t a witch, girl.”

You shake your head even though you’re sure it was a statement and not a question.

“How do you plan on caring for a child with a demon?” he asks, but it wasn’t as if he truly cared. He was a fertility demon, after all. He had hundreds of children and the majority of them were humans who were done exactly like this - only different was this was the first time said humans had not sought him out directly. 

You open your mouth to speak but you’re unsure of the answer yourself. You didn’t know that these women - witches - were going to summon a demon to impregnate you.

“She’ll have our help.” the blind witch speaks and for a moment, you forgot that they were still there watching you and him. 

The demon scoffs. “You witches are always up to something at the cost of my seed.” he murmurs. “I won’t be released until I impregnate you, human.” he inhales, smelling the scent of your arousal along with sensing just how confused, concerned yet horny you were all at once. “My name is Taehyung.”

“Tae…hyung.”

The demon - Taehyung - snickers at you saying his name.

Taehyung’s split tongue continues to swirl across your soft skin, the irony taste of your blood causes his taste buds to dance. A clawed hand grips at your thigh, gliding up your skin and pushes the night gown upwards as he does. 

Sharp teeth bite down harshly on your breast and the sudden rush of pain causes you to shriek loudly. Taehyung is rough and swift, ripping off your silk nightgown in a quick movement. It’s shredded and tossed aside without a care by the demon.

You’re now naked on the floor surrounded by witches and a demon - a night like this could not be dreamed of enough.

“Humans have the best tasting blood.” Taehyung all but purrs, tongue licking his lips of your blood. 

Your eyes watched as your nipples were his next interest. The split appendage licks at your hardened nipples, suckling and tugging on them without stopping. Your thighs quiver and you cannot help but moan at the dirty sight before you. Taehyung is starved, tugging your nipples so roughly as he sucks, but this wasn’t enough for him. He was a fertility demon, after all.

Taehyung twirls his tongue from your swollen nipples to down your stomach. His fingers nails are sharp as they swipe at your thighs, forcing them open. He can smell your arousal dripping for him; sweet like honey.

“Delicate humans such as yourself need to be prepped before breeding.”

Your eyes widen when he sinks down between your legs, so dangerously close to you that it causes you to yelp with embarrassment. 

Your head draws back and your eyes shut when you feel Taehyung’s tongue lick a stripe at your clit before latching itself completely onto it. He suckles on it sloppily, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands keep you firmly in place, sharp nails digging into the skin of your thigh and you’re sure they’re drawing blood. 

Taehyung’s eyes flicker up to you, snickering at the way you’re biting back your moans. Your teeth are biting your soft lips and you’re jerking with each passing lick.

This is not Taehyung’s first time doing this with a human - he has so many times before. He knows exactly what to do to pleasure them. His right hand leaves their grip upon your thigh to push past your folds. “So tight,” he murmurs against your clit, his fingers going to sink inside of you.

You’re breathing hitches as his fingers dig deeper inside you, brushing against your walls. He doesn’t allow you any grace - his tongue still flickers at your clit teasingly. It wasn’t like you haven’t received oral sex before - but not like this. Taehyung was obviously not human; his fingers appeared to go deeper and deeper with each thrust, jamming into you at an alarming speed. 

“I know you’re going to cum, human.” Taehyung’s voice appears in your head and for a moment you’re startled, eyes shooting open to look at him - his tongue has not left your clit, but then you hear it once more. “It’s amazing what a demon could do for you, right?”

You want to ask what the hell is going on and just how he’s in your head - but your stomach churns and once more, your thighs quiver. His fingers jam into your sweet spot with urgency and his words were ringing true - you were going to cum and so fast, too.

Taehyung doesn’t stop - instead he removes his fingers to replace it with his tongue, the muscle only adding to your climax. He buries his tongue deep against you and you’re unable to move away.

The overstimulation is causing your eyes to water. A single tear-drop falls from your eye in contrast to the slick of arousal that falls onto Taehyung’s tongue and down his chin. This was all too much to handle, the pleasure causing you to shake underneath his hold. You’re spasming against his tongue and Taehyung only watches the way you fold against him, a low squeal releasing from your throat.

Taehyung could have just fucked you and gotten it over with - but what’s the fun in that? Even if he was a demon, he still was a man that enjoyed sex and it was far more enjoyable when the other was into it.

You tug at Taehyung’s hair, unable to take anymore pleasure - and you’re already groaning at the blurry sight of his between your legs already that causes another orgasm to run through you.

Taehyung leans back, licking his lips of your arousal. His eyes watch the way your thighs shake and your breathing heaves, chest rising and falling in rhythm. 

“Should I breed you right now?”

Your head shakes, unable to comprehend how he was speaking to you in your mind right now. 

Nothing was private - not when there were witches watching. That was new - he was a fertility demon and never had an audience before for something this sacred. The only way for an ounce of privacy would be to speak with her through her thoughts.

Only something two bound people could do - something he had done when he had consumed her blood. Eventually it’d wear off if she did not accept the bond; and he was not expecting or bothered if she had or not.

“P-Please.” you murmur, nodding your head at Taehyung’s words in your mind. You truly just wanted him inside of you, completely forgetting that the two of you weren’t alone.

“You humans…” Taehyung doesn’t finish his words and instead, begins to undress his lower half, doing exactly what you were begging him for.

Taehyung’s cock is pretty - it’s pink and veiny and appears utterly suckable. Your mouth salivates at the thought of sucking it before he fucks you and it’s your perverted thoughts that causes him to laugh at you.

“So eager to taste me, little human?” Taehyung’s voice rings in your mind and hastily, you nod with a lick of your lips. “I’m not so sure you could take all of me.”

Taehyung does check to find out, pulling himself closer to you so that you could wrap a hand around the base of his cock - it’s thick in your grasp. You slowly feel him, astonished at something so pretty - maybe demons were meant to be this dangerous. You weren’t the least bit scared as you should be at a demon masking himself as a human to fuck a baby in you - you would go to Hell right now if he fucked you right along the way.

And that’s how demons tricked Humans, you note, in ways such as this.

Your mouth suckles on the tip of Taehyung’s cock, twirling your tongue greedily. Your hands stroke the base of it for added pleasure.

Taehyung groans, his eyes piercing as he watches you take him so good - like a touched starve whore. He can sense the excitement running through you right now, so eager to please him that you were doing an amazing job.

Taehyung grips your hair roughly. “Take more of me, little human. I know you can.” his voice speaks to you, his cock going deeper into your mouth.

There's saliva rolling down your chin as Taehyung begins to thrust inside your mouth. The sight had to be as filthy as when he was eating you out but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was something flowing inside of you that wanted to pleasure Taehyung - that needed to feel his cock inside of your mouth before he fucks a baby into you.

“Such a pretty whore you are.” Taehyung growls audibly. “Should I take you back to Hell with me and fuck you all the time?”

You whimper against his thrusting cock and Taehyung chuckles with a shake of his head. One hand lays itself under your chin so he can look into your watery eyes as his cock flows in and out of you. He growls, so pretty - so devilish. Those eyes were anything but holy.

“I’ll make you my personal whore…mine to fuck until the end of time.”

Taehyung releases himself from your mouth. You cough, saliva pooling onto your chest and you heave. He wastes no time in tearing your legs apart, cock right at your center. 

“You want me to be bred, don’t you, little human? No human could give you what I could.”

“Please…” you beg, eyes watery and hips buckling to feel him inside of you. You were needy, clenching around nothing. 

Taehyung gives you what you beg him for. He enters you with one thrust, your back arching at the sudden fullness of his cock. One hand pushes you back onto the ground. He then places the same hand against your stomach, beginning to thrust deeply inside of you.

Each thrust has you hitting against the floor roughly, your eyes rolling at the sensation. Your velvety walls tighten around his cock, greedy to milk him dry if that’s what it took.

“Little whore you are. Want a child so bad that you’d have a demon.” Taehyung’s taunting you, but his words do nothing but make you wetter for him, legs widening to take him even more - and it drives him crazy.

Taehyung growls, determined to send you over the edge. He forces your legs apart, pounding into you at an alarming speed for a human but even then you don’t appear to be threatened. You’re a weird human, he notes, fully accepting her fate - and maybe that was easier. Accept that you were fucking a demon and soon will be having one; there were precautions that you would have to go through. Such as completely cutting the child’s demonic abilities off that would kill the demon half of them - such acts would cause great pain for the child when the time comes.

Taehyung had children - majority of them walking earth with no ties to the demon world or the Brotherhood he was a part of. Those who were demons were so far removed from him that neither of them cared for a relationship as their birth was just business.

Taehyung ponders what you would choose - having a half demon child wouldn’t be easier for you to handle and he’s positive these witches didn’t give you any warning about what hell the pregnancy would be, let alone half demon spawns running around your house.

Taehyung snorts. You were so cock drunk right now that nothing mattered to you. He thrusts deeper inside of you, your pussy gripping him with greed that could only be seen as a sin. Your arousal pools beneath you and onto your rug, sure to stain it with the memories of this night.

“I can smell you, human. You’re gonna cum again.”

Your breathing increases and Taehyung is correct - you were going to cum. It’s a knot deep in your stomach that longs to be released.

“Let’s cum together, human.”

With both hands, Taehyung hoists your bottom half off of the ground and begins to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing off of the walls of your sitting room; all mixed with your high-pitched shrieks. 

Your eyes begin to roll once more and you're so close that your eyes begin to tear up with how good it all feels, the eyes of the witches fading into nothingness.

Taehyung’s nails dig into your skin as a few sloppy thrusts hit your sweet spot and he’s cumming deep inside of you, a warm seed painting your walls heavenly - it causes you to cum along with him. Your lower body shakes, your body erupts with warmth.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, human.” Taehyung’s voice growls in your mind. “You want to be bred, I’ll make sure I do just that.”

Before you could speak, Taehyung flips you on your stomach and forces you onto your knees. He enters you once more, continuing his pounding speed inside you.

Maybe Taehyung was determined to break you - you were so fragile and didn’t  know what you were getting yourself into. If you told him to slow down, he would - but you hadn’t. Your mind is screaming with just as much pleasure as your shrieks were. You were leaking all over the place and looked like a bitch in heat.

Taehyung’s unsure why it angers him to see you in such pleasure - was it because you weren’t afraid of him and the consequences of being bred by a demon? Was it because you were taking him far too well that he was beginning to enjoy it?

Taehyung yanks you back by your neck and presses himself against you, hips buckling inside your squelching pussy. His sharp nails dig into your neck as he squeezes it, free hand resting on your clit and begins to rub circles on the sensitive bud.

“You’re a filthy little human, aren’t you?”

Taehyung’s fingers roughly rub at your clit for added stimulation. You scream out, not caring how dirty you probably looked to the on-lookers. 

“I just might come back for you, little human. Fuck a few more babies in you since you seem to want my seed so much.”

“P-Please…” you beg, a few tears dropping from the corner of your eyes - how pathetic you must’ve looked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The pleasure is too much and you’re now begging him to cum. “Please make me cum….!”

Taehyung snickers, fingers rubbing through your folds with alarming stamina as his hips fuck into your tight walls. Your eyes are swirling to the back of your head again, feeling so full of him that you never want him to stop - you never felt this way before with your husband or any other man. It had to be because Taehyung wasn’t human but just looking the part for your sake.

You cry out with an embarrassing heat running through you as arousal-filled juices leaked out of you and down your thighs. It hits the floor with a splash, similar to water hitting the ground. You begin to shudder, body going completely limb in Taehyung’s embrace.

Taehyung taps your clit a few times, satisfied that you’ve came so hard again - and he was sure he could fuck you all night, but he would. You were a human and humans couldn’t do such a thing.

“Gonna get you nice and full, human. No human man would be able to give you such an honorable gift.” Taehyung brings his soaked hand and slaps your cheek as if to signal your attention. “Such a cock-hungry whore you are…you’ll be begging to be full of me again.”Your body continues to tremble, fully reliant on Taehyung to hold you upright. You’ve already cum enough.

Taehyung himself is cumming, and yet he still has an unholy amount of stamina - and cum - to give you.

Your face burns when it’s shoved into your rug, cheek slamming against it as Taehyung forces your ass into the car. You’re drooling onto it, pussy clenching around his cock, milking even more of his cum. He’s pounding inside of you at a dangerous rate, cock hitting even deeper and managing to fill you up with more and more cum.

“I’ll make sure you’re pregnant by the time we’re done here, human.” Taehyung snarls, attempting to use your body to his full advantage.

 A part of Taehyung upset that you still had no protest in you - to think a human could take him is preposterous. And yet - as you lay trembling beneath him, cock buried so deep inside of your pussy, his mind reads how you’re unable to speak, but yet begging him to continue.

You whimper when you’re filled once more, cum painting your walls entirely. This had to be different - this one actually stings a bit, almost as if it’s too much to handle as a human.

Taehyung is panting, his lips dangerously close to your ear. His cock twitches as he continues to cum inside of you, fully determined to do what he was summoned to do - breed you.

Taehyung doesn’t move nor does his cock soften inside of you. You remain still, as well, eyes heavy and you’re truly exhausted with the entire experience.

“You can leave now.” says the blind woman, her eyes glancing between you nearly unconscious and the demon. “I’m sure she’s with child and will show sooner than she expects.”

Taehyung remains quiet, there’s a bit of cum that falls out of you as he releases himself. He lets the grip of your hair go gently, allowing you to fall limp onto the ground.

Taehyung does leave - without another word - in a gush of black smoke.

It took you 7 months to learn the incantation to summon Taehyung.

You were large and it appeared as if your stomach never stopped moving but you’re positive that there isn’t only one child inside of you. Your eyes would catch more than two handprints and footprints at a time while they moved.

You accepted your fate rather quickly, drinking whatever medicine the witches had given you that would help ease the pain your children had caused throughout the pregnancy. Your body changed, of course, and you were always tired, hungry and thirsty.

Your thirst went beyond normal food and as the witches told you, your children wouldn’t accept just regular food. When you had tasted blood for the first time you thought it would disgust you, but it tasted so heavenly that you completely devoured several blood bags right before the witches.

It took everything in you to not attack your parents as they visited you in your home. You could smell their blood - thanks to your children - and they fought with you constantly to have a taste, but you managed to hold them off until they left and ate a large, raw and blood steak to satiate their desires.

What was new to you at the time was the demonic powers you’d possess because of the fetuses inside of you. You had since caused a fire in your home just because you were craving something you couldn’t have. In the next moment, the first was put out and seemingly out of thin air, what you were craving sat directly in front of you.

The teleportation had to be something to get used to - but you could say that you were completely fine with it. Possibly better than any other human woman would be at carrying demonic children.

You’d often ponder if they’d look like Taehyung - if they’d have baby horns and red skin; or a demon side to them at all. The witches had told you that they had a spell to cast off the demonic side to your babies, and yet you’re unsure if that’s something you’d want.

Your mind often lingers on Taehyung and had since the next day you woke up without him - and had not seen him since.

You hear Taehyung, as weird as it is. In your head, he often speaks to you at random times. It’s as if he was there, but truly wasn’t. He would answer certain questions you have about your demonic abilities and cravings.

“You’re carrying more than one spawn, they’re expecting to be fed more than acai bowls and water.”

“You caused the fire in your home, but they managed to protect you from it.”

“That sharp pain in your rib was one of them breaking it with their kick - the other healed you in a matter of seconds. You’ll have to get used to them fighting each other in the womb. It’ll only get worse when they’re actually born.”

Taehyung speaks with you - but he doesn’t show himself and a part of you wonders if he ever will.

Was it weird to want Taehyung around? You learned that he was a fertility demon and he had many children - both fully human now and fully demon. You’re unsure how you feel about being just another vessel for him to impregnate.

It took you 7 months to learn the incantation to summon Taehyung - to not summon him at all.

No, instead you summoned someone else, another demon. And now you’re frightened to have them standing tall before you.

Your breasts are bleeding, having used your blood to summon this demon.

“You,” 

The demon doesn’t appear demonic like Taehyung was when he was summoned. He comes as a regular human man, but you’re wiser to know that he is anything but. 

The man steps forward, dark hair bouncing on his shoulders. 

Your dagger tightens in your grip and you raise it shakily in case you need to use it.

The demon chuckles. “That dagger won’t hurt me.” he says tauntingly. “Besides, if you were in any danger, your children would sense it and fight me off.”

You swallow.

“You smell like Taehyung…his being is embedded in you. Not only by pregnancy.” the demon sniffs the air, tilting his head. “You…you are the reason he has the Brotherhood in shambles. And to think they said I would be the one to go weak.”

You’re unsure of what the man is saying and you don’t question him. Your heart beats rapidly as he comes closer.

“W-Who are you?” you ask. “I-I tried to summon Tae-”

“My name’s Jungkook.” the man speaks. “You summoned me.” he says. “Obviously, you have yet to learn the correct incantation to summon a specific Brotherhood member so it chose a random one. Just my luck.”

Jungkook recalls how many years it’s been since Taehyung had found out about his child, stating that the Underworld were claiming him to be weak - how the tables have turned.

In such a short amount of time, Taehyung had resigned from his role as a fertility brotherhood member - something he has been for centuries - and it only meant that he had found a bound partner. Jungkook was no fool to why Taehyung had gone distant and it only meant that his partner had to be human like his once was.

“You haven’t seen Taehyung and that’s why you tried to summon him.”

You nod your head meekly, lowering your dagger.

“Typical of my brother to run away. Jimin.”

You go to speak but are interrupted when another man appears seemingly out of thin air. You yelp, flinching back.

“What do we have here?” the man, Jimin, speaks. He smells the air, nose flaring. “Tae…he has hid you well. Better than you had.” he says to Jungkook. 

“Leave.”

Taehyung appears like the rest had, this time directly behind you. You’re shocked to see him again for the first time in months. Your heart leaps at the sight of him, and your stomach begins to move radically.

“Ah, they know you’re here.” Jimin says, a taunting tone in his voice. “The former fertility demon becomes a family man.”

“I suppose we both made a mockery of the Brotherhood.” Jungkook speaks, not forgetting how Taehyung once treated him and his pregnant partner. 

“You still live in the past, brother?” Taehyung snorts with a shake of his head.  “I’ve accepted your bound partner and your child. I was there at the birth was I not?”

“Speaking of births,” Jimin leans down to your sitting position, a hand placing itself onto your stomach. “You’ll be due soon and we’ll be there.”

“It’s tradition, brother.” Jungkook says mockingly. “To welcome your son and daughter to the Brotherhood.”

Your eyes widen.

You knew you were having more than one child - but you never knew the gender.

Your throat tightens at the thought of having one of each.

“Your first set of children to do so.”

“And only. Right, brother? You are no longer a fertility demon.” Jungkook tilts his head. “Such great news that I cannot wait to share with the rest of our brothers.”

Taehyung turns his eyes away and down at you. He doesn’t speak.

“Yoongi said something was going on with you. You’ve gone soft, brother? That’s a good thing.”

“Soft is something I am not, brother.” Taehyung retorts to Jimin. “Just because I once gave life to many does not mean I have not taken the same if not more.”

You listen to the three of them bicker, trying to wrap your head around what was going on.

“Leave and return to the Underworld and be sure to remind anyone just why I remain an Upper Level demon, brother.” Taehyung hisses, now stepping in front of you. 

Jimin stands, eyeing Taehyung. 

“We’ll be back when the babies are due to be born.” Jimin smiles devilishly. “Finding a bound partner is a blessing, brother.” he laughs at his own form of a joke.

They’re gone in a blink of an eye and now you’re left with just you and Taehyung.

You don’t speak, unsure on what to say. You haven’t seen Taehyung in so long that the sight of him makes you nervous.

“You didn’t have to summon me to see me, human.”

You sit a little straighter, dagger falling from your hands.

“All you had to do was call for me.”

“I-I don’t know how.” your body burns with heat as his eyes turn to you. “I-”

“I hear you. I always do.” Taehyung murmurs. “I can feel you. Your heart beat is linked to mine. When it risen was when I decided to come.”

You lick your lips, racking your brain around the words the three demons used.

“A bound partner is exactly what it sounds like.” Taehyung says, reading your mind exactly. “You’d be bound to me for eternity and taken to Hell. I have been bound to you, Human, since the day we conceived our children. You are not bound to me.”

You furrow your brows. “How could you be bound to me?” you ask. “I don’t remember anything?” “A blood binding. It started when I licked your blood…” Taehyung’s eyes drop to your cut breast, a sense of deja vu. “You drinking my blood would be one of many bindings.”

You swallow, the act of tasting blood causing your mouth to water.

“However, I have chosen not to do that. You have come to me to help you and that I shall.” Taehyung drops to his knees to look at you. 

“And if I want you to?”

Taehyung snorts. “You are a weird human, Y/N.” he murmurs, dark eyes watching you. “You refuse to back down even now. Most demons wouldn’t spare your soul like I am.”

“You aren’t most demons. You’re an Upper-Level one.” you say boldly - unsure the hierarchy of demons were. “I want to be bound to you.”

“You don’t, human. Your emotions are all over the place.” Taehyung snickers. “Our children are causing you to feel this way because they crave their demonic part - which is me.”

“I want to be bound to you.” you repeat again, mind flashing with that night months prior to how well he had fucked you.

“And spend an eternity in Hell?”

You lick your lips. “Would we be with you?” you ask, voice low.

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” you nod your head. “I’ll spend an eternity in Hell.”

Taehyung watches your expression, truly believing you to be a weird individual.

You had a life on Earth. You had the funds to raise children and a family who supported you. 

Why would you give it all up to join a demon in Hell?

“I was told you gave up your position.” you speak up to interrupt his thoughts. “I’m not sure what any of this means…”

“It means these are the only children that would be born by me that the Brotherhood would acknowledge.” his eyes flicker to your moving stomach, sensing that his children were content inside of you. “I won’t be having any more.”

You place a hand onto your stomach, a sudden kick right where it lays. 

“I summoned you because I wanted to see you again.” you admit, but you’re sure he knows this if he was correct about his claims. “I want to be bound to you. This…” your eyes turn to the space you were occupying - but not just the space, the Human realm in general. “...It’s lonely. I’m surrounded by people but I’m still lonely. I get pitiful looks from my family constantly and…”

You don’t want to ramble about your human life and problems.

“...would going to Hell hurt?”

“Of course.” Taehyung doesn’t attempt to sugar coat anything. 

“Will you be there when I get there? Would they?”

“Of course.” Taehyung repeats. “Hell…the Underworld as a whole is far different than the Human realm. You wouldn’t be able to return and see your family.”

You swallow, eyes on Taehyung’s.

“They would think you’d died. That, or their memory of you would be wiped entirely.”

Taehyung watches your reaction for anything. He knows humans and their emotions could be radical and they tend to keep their families close to their hearts.

“What were you planning on doing?” you asked. 

Taehyung doesn’t answer because he himself wasn’t sure. He could bind their demonic side until they are of age - but that would only cause more work for the Brotherhood to teach a human raised demon how to live their lives in the Underworld. 

There was the possibility of allowing them to keep their demonic powers in the Human realm, but demonic babies, toddlers and children were Hell to raise on a plain that didn’t possess the same abilities as them.

Taehyung supposed that he was leaving the decision up to you entirely to decide what you wished to do with them. One thing’s for certain, now that the Brotherhood knew of your existence, it was a matter of time before the Source did.

Your hand grabs the dagger and instantly, you slice his neck. Taehyung doesn’t react like a normal person would and it’s because you assume he doesn’t truly care - he’s had worse attacks. 

Taehyung is more shocked that you slice his neck to then lick him, a way of completing the binding ritual yourself.

Taehyung’s blood is thick and rich, your tongue stroking the wound to get a better taste of him, hands throwing the knife and falling onto his chest. You grip his shirt to bring him closer, your senses heighten for a moment. It appears your children were awake, moving non-stop inside of you.

“You’re a weird human.” Taehyung’s voice sounds throughout your head. “Going to Hell because you’re lonely and hormonal.”

You snort, teeth grazing the side of his neck. Your hand falls slowly from his chest to his lap as you lean back. You lick your lips, tilting your head curiously. 

Taehyung’s eyebrow lifts slightly. “My brother’s partner…wasn’t like you.” he notes, recalling the way Jungkook’s bound partner remained kind and reclusive.  

However, you were carrying two demonic spawns that were feeding off of you on the daily and maybe they were slowly turning you away from whatever human-like emotions you had. 

“What do you want me to do?” Taehyung asks you, your thoughts clouding his and he’s certain you want to ask him something. 

“Nothing too drastic.” you shrug your shoulders. “Just kill my ex-husband.”

Taehyung blinks at you and you do the same.

“Of course.” Taehyung responds, leaning away from you to stand straight. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Your hand lays on your bump as Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, a satisfied feeling running through your body.

halloween masterlist

pussy spanks as a punishment!

the idea just makes my little clit jump! :33

pussy spanks for every single mistake i make, tie me to the bed and spank till its red and swollen

pussy spanks because im being a brat so you sit me down in front of a mirror and spank my pussy, all while making me watch how its so pathetic how much my hole is dripping from watching you spank it, till i cry

pussy spanks for your pleasure even if i haven't done anything wrong because you like seeing me red and swollen and crying

pussy spanks because you love me and im a girl and girls need to be spanked in their little pussy so that they don't be a brat and stay obedient

MASTERLIST

❀ WELCOME TO THE GARDEN ❀

Come inside and explore the beautiful flowers! I’m sure you will find one you will like! Take your time. But I do ask you to refrain from taking any of my flowers. I worked hard to grow them! (❁´◡`❁) ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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