Meow~ (Taekook)
cറllꪱ๋dᧉ(Taehyung tops)
author
So I told you guys each book will have their own smút though the first book had a sad ending but what if it had a different ending with the smút? So here we go
The laughter died, swallowed by the sudden, heavy air between them. Taehyung's eyes, warm and honey-brown just moments ago, were now dark, pupils blown wide with an intensity that made Jungkook's breath catch.
The command was clear, low, and rough. Jungkook just nodded, his throat too tight to form words. Taehyung's hand shot out, gripping his wrist, and he was being pulled. Weaving through the art crowd with a single-minded purpose that made Jungkook's head spin. A tight nod to a gallery assistant, a key in the lock, and then the click of the "STAFF ONLY" door shutting behind them.
Silence. The muffled jazz and chatter of the gallery faded into a dull, irrelevant hum. This was a different world. A small, cluttered office smelling of paint and something uniquely Taehyung.
Before Jungkook could even process it, Taehyung spun him around and slammed him against the cool wood of the door. His mouth was on Jungkook's, hungry and punishing. It wasn't a kiss; it was an invasion. Four months of frustration, of what-ifs, poured into a single, bruising press of lips.
Jungkook met it with a desperate groan, his hands fisting in the soft fabric of Taehyung's shirt, pulling him closer until there was no air, only the solid heat of Taehyung's body against his.
Jungkook
F*ck, I've thought about this.
Taehyung
Me too. Every f*cking day.
Taehyung's mouth broke away, trailing down Jungkook's jaw to his neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. Jungkook's head fell back with a thud, a choked sound escaping his throat.
Taehyung's hands were everywhere, sliding down his back to grip his @ss, pulling their hips together in a filthy grind that made stars explode behind Jungkook's eyes. The hard, thick line of Taehyung's c*ck pressed against his own through the layers of denim, and the friction was electric.
Taehyung
*panted against his skin, his fingers already working at Jungkook's belt buckle. The metal clinked in the quiet office*
Jungkook helped, shoving his own trousers and boxers down his hips in one desperate motion. The cool air was a shock against his overheated skin, but it was nothing compared to the searing heat of Taehyung's palm wrapping around his length, stroking him from base to tip with a firm, knowing twist.
Taehyung
Turn around. Hands on the door.
The command was a low growl, and Jungkook's body obeyed before his mind could catch up. He braced himself, palms flat against the wood, his heart hammering against his ribs. He heard the tear of a foil packet, the wet click of a lube bottle cap, and then the slick, blunt pressure of Taehyung's c*ck against his entrance.
Taehyung
"Relax for me, Kook,"
Taehyung
*murmured, one hand soothing over the curve of his spine.*
He pushed in slowly, inch by agonizing inch, stretching him open. The burn was exquisite, a perfect, overwhelming fullness. Jungkook's breath hitched, his fingers curling against the door. When Taehyung was fully seated, he paused, his forehead resting on Jungkook's shoulder blade, both of them trembling with the effort of holding back.
Taehyung
You feel... f*ck. So good.
Jungkook
Move. Please, Tae, f*cking move.
And he did. Taehyung pulled back almost all the way before snapping his hips forward, setting a rhythm that was deep and punishing. Each thrust drove the air from Jungkook's lungs, his body rocking with the force of it.
The only sounds were the slap of skin on skin, their ragged breaths, and Jungkook's own desperate whimpers. Taehyung's hand wrapped around Jungkook's neglected c*ck, stroking him in time with his brutal pace.
Taehyung
Come on, Jungkook. Come for me.
The words, spoken in that deep, wrecked voice, were his undoing. With a sharp cry, Jungkook spilled over Taehyung's fingers, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm. Taehyung followed him over the edge a moment later with a low groan, burying himself deep as he came.
They stayed like that, a tangle of sweaty limbs, until their breathing evened out. Taehyung pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Jungkook's spine.
Taehyung
We're not waiting four months for round two.
author
They don't die in this
author
┗(•ˇ_ˇ•)―→
cറllꪱ๋dᧉ²(Jungkook tops)
The laughter was still hanging in the air, but something had shifted. A current of pure, unadulterated want. This time, it was Jungkook who moved. He closed the small distance between them in a single stride, fisting a hand in the front of Taehyung's expensive shirt and yanking him into a hard, possessive kiss. It was a claiming. A declaration that said you were mine the second we collided.
Taehyung gasped into his mouth, surprised for only a second before he was kissing back with equal fervor, his hands coming up to tangle in Jungkook's hair, pulling him closer. But Jungkook was in control now.
Jungkook
*he gritted out, his lips still brushing Taehyung's.*
Taehyung
Office. Corner door. F*ck, Jungkook...
Jungkook didn't need to be told twice. He propelled them backward, kicking the door open with his foot and slamming it shut. The small, paint-scented office became their world. He shoved Taehyung against the door, his body pinning the taller man in place. The power dynamic had flipped, and the raw lust in Taehyung's eyes showed he was more than happy to submit.
Taehyung
*breathed, his voice already wrecked. It sounded like surrender.*
That was all the permission he needed. Jungkook's hands were frantic, yanking Taehyung's shirt from his trousers, popping buttons. He needed skin. He needed to erase every second of the last four months with touch. He got Taehyung's trousers open, shoving them and his briefs down his thighs. Taehyung's c*ck sprang free, hard and leaking against his stomach.
Jungkook
You have no f*cking idea.
Jungkook
*spun Taehyung around, pressing his chest flush against Taehyung's back, his mouth right by his ear*
Jungkook
How many times I've thought about bending you over and f*cking you until you can't remember your own name.
Taehyung moaned, a low, desperate sound, pushing his hips back in a silent, begging motion. Jungkook reached into his back pocket for a condom and a small packet of lube, his hands shaking with adrenaline. He prepped Taehyung quickly, his fingers slick and insistent, scissoring him open, drawing out whimpers that went straight to his own aching c*ck.
Taehyung
Now, Jungkook. Please, now.
He rolled the condom on and lined himself up. He pushed in with one slow, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The feeling was overwhelming—a perfect, tight heat that felt like coming home. Taehyung ared his back, a long, drawn-out sigh escaping his lips as he took all of Jungkook in.
Jungkook
You feel so f*cking tight, Tae.
Jungkook gripped Taehyung's hips, his knuckles white, and started to move. His thrusts were hard and deliberate, a stark contrast to the frantic energy from moments before. This was a claiming. Each roll of his hips said you're mine. He leaned forward, sinking his teeth into the muscle of Taehyung's shoulder, needing to leave a mark, some proof that this was real.
Jungkook
Who do you belong to, Taehyung?
Taehyung
You! F*ck, Jungkook, you!
Jungkook
*reached around, wrapping his hand around Taehyung's neglected length, stroking him in time with his punishing thrusts.*
Jungkook
Let me see you fall apart on my c*ck
The command was Taehyung's undoing. With a sharp cry of Jungkook's name, he spilled over his hand and the door, his body convulsing with pleasure. The sight and sound of it sent Jungkook tumbling right after him, his own release tearing through him with a force that left him breathless and boneless.
They collapsed against the door, Jungkook's weight resting heavily on Taehyung
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