Yoongi was staring at his computer’s screen, hands still on the keyboard, still thinking about the track he was producing, when Taehyung asked him.
“You remember how you said you could always fuck me anyway?”
It took him a moment to get a grasp at Taehyung’s words, and another to even remotely understand what he was talking about. A memory flooded back at him, of Taehyung’s fists laying on the sides of his head, on the floor of their living room, of Taehyung sliding inside of him slowly, spreading him open, of a deep need buried on his stomach, making him want to scream with how much he wanted, needed it.
And then, his voice, trembling, You know, hyung, he had said, sometimes I wished- I wished I wasn’t an alpha so you could fuck me.
He’d almost forgotten what he had said in reply, his mind had been too far gone on the rush of hormones mercilessly hitting his body.
Yoongi pushed his chair away from his chair, spinning so he could face Taehyung, currently on the door of his studio, he’d barely moved since Yoongi had let him in, he was still just casually leaning on the wall, sipping at a cup of what Yoongi guessed was tea. Taehyung and Jimin both were of drinking weird sophisticated tea. He looked so unbothered, like he hadn’t just brought up the prospect of Yoongi fucking him.
It wasn’t like he didn’t like the idea, it was just that alphas wanting to be penetrated was not only weird, but almost unheard of. It was against their nature, an alpha enjoying it- Yoongi had never believed it was possible, partially the reason why he’d been so ashamed of his own desires, he’d never considered them to be viable, but here Taehyung was, looking him straight in the eye, almost asking him-
“Yeah,” he said, surprised at how even the word sounded. “Why?”
“I want you to,” Taehyung took another sip of his cup. He wasn’t even blushing, and Yoongi had thought he was the blunt one around here. “I don’t want you to knot me though, I mean, like, I do, I think about it, a lot, but not the first time, it would be- if I wanted to stop and we couldn’t- yeah, that’d be bad.”
“Yeah,” he echoed, knowing Taehyung could probably hear his rapid pulse, “that’d be bad.”
He couldn’t help it. It was Taehyung’s fault, really, for making him think of how it would feel to be locked inside of him, to have him under him, squirming, and whining like-
Damn it. Taehyung could read him like an open book right now, and Yoongi did not appreciate it at all, because he was starting to smirk around the cup that still rested on his lips. “I take it you like the prospect?”
He forced himself to cool off. Not getting a boner. No way. “You’re such a brat,” he stood up from the chair, placed both hands on both sides of Taehyung’s head. It didn’t matter that he was taller, Yoongi knew, because he saw the way Taehyung gulped down with difficulty. “I’d love to fuck you, Taehyung-ah.”
“Want more than that,” Taehyung suddenly said, and oh, well, this time his cheeks did turn a little pink. It was probably because Yoongi was so close, almost kissing him, trapping him against the corner. “I want you to- I want to-”
He leaned in closer, Taehyung’s breath hitched. He took the cup out of his hands, and the youngest didn’t protest. He placed it on the desk, then turned back to look at him, grabbed his chin softly. “What is it, Tae-tae? What do you want? Tell hyung so I can give it to you.”
Taehyung licked his lips. His gaze slipped down for a moment, then went back up. “I- I want to do what you say.”
He hummed in appreciation, a smirk forming on his face. “Want to be my good boy?”
Taehyung closed his eyes. His cheeks were flaring now, bright red. “Fuck. Yes- I’m- I don’t know why- I’m not supposed to-”
He knew where those thoughts led. Yoongi leaned in, stole a kiss from him. The youngest parted his mouth easily, melting unto the touch. “Stop that,” he whispered, trailing his touch to his neck, bringing his hand to the back of Taehyung’s head, “you’re a person, Taehyung-ah, not the archetype of your biology. Whatever you want, it’s okay, you’re safe with me, and you know that.”
Taehyung swallowed again, not daring to look at him in the eye. “I know, it’s just- I’m not sure when it’s too much.”
“Okay,” he kissed at his nose, making him snort, “we can go slowly, I’ll stop whenever you ask me to.”
“No, I mean, just, I want to use colors, I feel I might- say stop even though I don’t mean it.”
Yoongi chuckled at him, and Taehyung slapped at his arm in offense. “Okay, okay, sure.”
“I think I could like it if you…” Yoongi arched his eyebrows expectantly, which only caused Taehyung to roll his eyes, straighten his back, going back to his calm demeanor. “If you degraded me, a little, I’m not sure, just- I think about it and I think I’d like that.”
Yoongi’s smirk only grew. “You think about it as in you touch yourself to the idea?”
Taehyung pouted, his eyes narrowing. “You’re so mean, hyung.”
Yoongi took that as a yes.
"Hyung," Taehyung watched as Yoongi turned to look at him, how his eyes widened at the sight of him. He knew he didn't look too good, slightly wet from the rain outside, bags under his eyes from not sleeping enough, and that was without taking into account how anxious and stressed and sad he felt. "I need you."
Yoongi's gaze softened. He walked up to him, the coffee he was serving forgotten. Taehyung sighed when the elder placed his hand on the back of his head. "What do you need me to do, Tae-tae?"
He closed his eyes, then grabbed Yoongi by his waist lazily, silently asking him to get closer. He did, kissing at his forehead. "I want you to fuck me, hyung."
He felt Yoongi's smile against his skin. "You sure? Wouldn't you rather have me make you some tea or something?"
Taehyung couldn't help to snort at him. He grinded their hips together challengely. "C'mom, I need you, please, I just want- I don't want to be in control, just for a little while."
Yoongi took his chin on his fingers, his smile had faded slightly, turning into an affectionate expression. "You're such a desperate little whore."
He shuddered at his words, felt arousal growing on his gut.
"What's your color, love?"
Taehyung gasped as he was pinned against the wall, Yoongi's hands traveling up his shirt. "Green, green, so fucking green."
God, he was already hard, Yoongi's eyes had flashed fed when he'd spoken, and Taehyung's own instincts had spiked up, wanting to fight back, and it was somehow addicting, addicting to bow his head and do as he was told. Yoongi kissed him as he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off along with his underwear. He regarded the boner he found with an amused expression.
"Already so eager, alpha?" It was the way he said it, the patronizing tone, that made shame creep inside him, it somehow made everything so much more intense. He licked his lips, stared hard into Yoongi's chin. "Get on your hands and knees, slut." He made to move, but Yoongi stopped him putting his hand on his hip. "Answer me when I give you an order."
Taehyung opened his mouth and closed it again, but Yoongi didn't push him. He realized he could answer whatever he wanted. It was almost a question, a what do you want to call me? "Yes, hyung, sir."
Yoongi hummed in appreciation, then let go of his hip, so Taehyung positioned himself as he'd been told. "Color?"
"Green." He didn't even think about his answer, arched his back, begging for some attention. Yoongi laughed at him, and it sent something through Taehyung's spine, something intense and hot and uncomfortable.
He waited for Yoongi to get the lube out of the drawer beside the bed, then heard the bottle being unclasped, just as a hand was brought into his land of sight. “Suck.”
He opened his mouth and was all about to obey when Yoongi unexpectedly spanked him, and Taehyung caught up to his mistake all at once. “Y-yes, yes, sir.”
Yoongi rubbed at his skin absently as Taehyung took his fingers on his mouth. Yoongi wasn’t nice about it, pushed them inside until he almost gagged. God, he was so turned on, he dig his nails on the sheets. Yoongi held him tightly by his waist, he could smell him, knew he was also getting a little desperate; he knew Yoongi’s scent, its changes and their meanings, like his own palm.
“Good boy,” Yoongi whispered, hot breath close to Taehyung’s skin. He almost wished for him to lean forward, to use his tongue, but he knew Yoongi, knew how much he loved using his mouth, and he also knew how quickly it got him into subspace, which was probably the reason why the elder simply poured lube on his fingers, and pressed one inside of him.
It felt strange. Taehyung had already fingered himself, had prepped this morning, coincidentally, but he’d never had someone else doing it. It was better, so much better, he panted on his own hands. “Another one, please.”
Yoongi laughed at him, and slapped his cock playfully, which made Taehyung’s breath hitch, his whole body stiffening. “So eager to get fucked, huh, alpha?”
Fuck. Taehyung bit hard at his lip at all the feelings that surfaced inside of him. His instincts were screaming at him to fight back, and a part of him wanted to, a part of him wanted to struggle, and to lose.
Ah, he hadn’t thought of that before, the realization hit him hard, sent a shiver down his spine. He suddenly felt dizzy, nauseous. It was obvious, really, even based on what he’d asked Yoongi to do, but he’d been unable to connect the dots.
“Look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers,” Yoongi growled above him, and it occurred to Taehyung that he was, in fact, rocking his hips back on them.
His mind stumbled, attempting to catch up, and he must have spaced out, because then Yoongi was on him, and he was pressing inside, and Taehyung wondered if he was even ready for this, but he must’ve be, because it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he had imagined when the elder started entering him. Had Yoongi realized, the extent of what Taehyung wanted? No, otherwise, he would think it was sick, twisted, and wrong.
He whined, something inside of him took over, and he pushed back, until Yoongi was all the way inside, cursing loudly and moaning against Taehyung’s shoulders. Wait, this wasn’t-
“You’re such a worthless little whore.”
There was a little bit of thrusting, slow, gentle, and Taehyung tried to understand what was going on, why he didn’t feel good anymore. Worthless. He’d been called that today already, by his director; that was the reason he had come to Yoongi in the first place.
Wrong. This was wrong. He was wrong to want something like that. Disgusting. Worthless.
“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi’s voice sounded worried, frantic, almost panicked. “Color, Taehyung-ah.”
He said it with emphasis, as if he’d asked the question and Taehyung hadn’t answered.
He felt Yoongi start to retreat, pulling out of him slowly, caressing his back with care. Irrational fear sprung up inside of him, fear that Yoongi was going to just leave. “Wait- wait, hyung-”
Yoongi stilled, his hands stopped at Taehyung’s hips, his touch grounding him. It helped, made his thoughts regain their tracks. “Shit,” his throat closed up, he felt tears starting to fall through his cheeks, “red, r-red, fuck, fuckfuckfuck.”
“Shh,” Yoongi’s arms embraced him gently, somehow maneuvered him until Taehyung was lying at his side with the elder holding him from behind. He hadn’t even felt him pull out from inside. “It’s okay, you’re okay, Taehyung-ah, I got you, you’re safe.”
He closed his eyes tightly, cursing himself for breaking down like this. “I’m fine, it’s fine, I just- I don’t know why-”
“You don’t have to explain anything now,” Yoongi kissed at his neck, his hands went to grab Taehyung’s hair, knowing it would soothe him. “Just breathe, Tae-tae.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, mostly to convince himself, “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have- I’m-” His voice cracked, and he felt an overwhelming force of emotions rushing through him. His shoulders shook, he closed his fists tightly in frustration as he started crying, but Yoongi took them with his own hands, gently pulling them open.
“Why are you sorry, what is there to be sorry for?” He blinked in confusion, the tension of his body slowly deflating.
“Dis- disappointment?” His voice sounded foreign to his ears. Too small. Fragile.
“No, baby boy, no,” Yoongi held him tighter, licked at his back and his neck and Taehyung melted. “It’s okay to be upset. You were so good, okay?”
“Good?” he repeated. He felt like things had slowed down, felt as if anything Yoongi told him in that moment would be irrefutable.
“That’s right. My good boy.”
His shoulders slumped in relief, a sigh leaving his lips. The anguish left him in an instant, the fog on his mind cleared up only slightly, enough for him to be aware that he was probably going deeper into subspace than he’d ever had before. “It was just- a lot.”
“Okay,” Yoongi nuzzled closer to him. Taehyung felt his scent enveloping him. Safe. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He turned slowly, ignored the small discomfort he felt on his bottom when he rolled on his back to face the elder. “Not your fault.”
Yoongi’s gaze softened on him. “I should’ve noticed earlier. I never wanted to hurt you.”
He shook his head stubbornly. “I didn’t even know it was bothering me at first, hyung, it was so fast, and I just- It was my fault.”
There was a pause, and then Yoongi snorted, loudly. “Taehyung-ah.”
He felt the corners of his own mouth twitch upwards. “We’re not going to fight over whose fault it is, are we?”
Yoongi shrugged, still amused, and relaxed. “Doesn’t seem productive.” He giggled as he took Yoongi by his hips, effortlessly flipping him under him so he could lie on his chest. “Yah,” Yoongi protested, but without any real fight on his tone, “you’re going to crush me to dead like that, alpha.”
He said this last bit mockingly, and Taehyung pouted at him, holding him tighter. Yoongi made a fake chocking noise. “I want proper aftercare, Yoongi-yah.”
“Yah,” Yoongi said, louder, but he couldn’t contain it; he started laughing, “have some respect for your elders, brat.”
Taehyung only chuckled in response, and sighed contently when he felt Yoongi’s wrist on his neck, scenting him.
i'm not sure if i'll make two or three chapters, but the ending is supposed to have the successful fuck
the successful fuck
fun story: i was writing this at school because i have no shame, and i left my phone with this thing open as i worked on something for the class, and my teammate grabbed it and i was perfectly aware of what was in it, so i was like "yo, you don't wanna read that," and he was like "now i kinda do" and he read it and basically a lot of my classmates read a draft of this because, again, i have no shame
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Yoongi's grip on his wrists was tight, Taehyung could feel his whole weight as he pressed him against the bed. His instincts spiked up, and he pushed back, at first only testing, but Yoongi had no problem at all; he let go of one wrist in favor of pushing his head roughly on the sheets, and Taehyung could hear his growl vibrate through their torsos. Their struggle escalated. Taehyung kicked his legs and attempted to turn around from the position he was in; laying on his back, felt himself grow hotter and hotter as Yoongi manhandled him, one hand around his throat as the other one pushed his pants and his underwear down. All of his senses seemed to become slower the longer it passed, and he knew it was because of the pill he'd swallowed around fifteen minutes ago, with Yoongi looking at him dead in the eyes and asking him are you sure? This had gone well already, he was more and more confident on what they were doing; clearer on what words he wished to avoid.
His strength was deflating, somehow only kept afloat by a primal defiance that grew inside of him. He felt small in every push of their bodies, like a child; no matter how much effort he put into a movement, it was easily swatted away or overpowered. It made his heart speed up with excitement and anticipation.
"Look at you, alpha," Yoongi said, punctuating it with a flick to Taehyung’s cock, "you're already getting hard, so eager to get fucked." Taehyung closed his eyes, feeling his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He shook his head, but Yoongi only laughed at him, stroking him. "No? Even when you're moaning like a whore?"
He wished to protest, but then Yoongi, having thrown Taehyung’s shirt to the floor, brushed at his right nipple, and the grunts he had been making morphed into a small whine. Yoongi laughed again, pinching it cruelly. Taehyung panted, placing his hands on Yoongi's wrist to try to push his arm away, but it was useless, simply lifting his limbs was excruciatingly difficult.
"Are you embarrassed, alpha?"
Taehyung didn't answer, but he figured his red face, and the way he tried to hide it on the sheets was telling enough.
Yoongi hummed, moving his fingers through Taehyung’s other nipple casually, ignoring the sounds he made in protest. "What is my baby embarrassed about? That you're dripping wet just from having your nipples played with?" He smirked when he saw Taehyung shuddering. "That's it, isn't it? Little slutty girl doesn't want me to know how much she loves it when I touch her tits."
"M'not a girl," he said, voice slurred and small.
"No? You don't want to play dress up, alpha? I bet you'd look stunning, wearing a nice dress, some lipstick." The mental image popped into his mind. Yoongi's fingers closing around lace panties and ripping them off him. He opened his eyes, finding Yoongi's intense glare. He gulped. Yoongi smirked. "I know that face. You can't lie to me, baby girl."
A growl slipped from his lips, eyes flashing red. Yoongi didn't respond to the challenge, instead he chuckled like Taehyung was harmless, and leaned in to suck on his nipple. The youngest flinched back, making a small, embarrassingly high scream. Yoongi slid his own jeans down, which was only half a relief. He still felt more vulnerable and exposed. "You sound so pretty, baby girl, like an omega."
He shook his head again. He felt so hot, full of shame and arousal. Yoongi knew him so well, even if they'd only done this two other times, he could read his body language, knew when he was pressing the right buttons. "M'not," he chanted, voice hoarse and treading between his normal tone and whimpers. "I'm not."
"No?" he felt a hand closing around his member, tugging. "There's no way this little thing can satisfy anyone."
"Hyung-" he protested, but his throat closed up. It was unimportant that he knew he was average, even bigger, or that that didn't matter in the first place. His mind was fuzzy and fragile and Yoongi's words rung true, caressed through his skin, hurting in the best way possible.
"You want to fuck me, alpha?"
His instincts answered for him with a snarl. Yoongi's scent was adding fuel to the fire inside of him. He wanted to grab him and slam him into the ground and rip him in two, but he couldn’t, he was helpless, like a rag doll, a toy Yoongi would use however he wanted. God, he was so turned on.
The elder smirked as he traced his tongue up Taehyung’s cock, making him squirm. "With this tiny knot? You really think you'd fill me up?"
He jerked his hips involuntarily when Yoongi sucked on the tip of his cock.
"I wonder if I can get you to knot my hand," he punctuated this by pressing three fingers against Taehyung’s parted lips, without any warning, pressing them far until the youngest was choking. "Would you do that, baby girl, would you get so desperate that you'd knot my hand? Like a pathetic whore?" He shook his head again, only because he wanted to be proven wrong, feeling the sting of tears on the tip of his eyelids. Yoongi noticed —of course he did— and snickered close to his neck as he took his hands back. "You're crying, baby girl? Am I being too mean to you? Poor little thing." Taehyung heard the cap of a bottle being unclasped, probably the lube, and then there was a hand spreading his legs open, a finger pressing inside. He jumped at the sensation. Yoongi entered another one in too quickly.
"Hyung, wait-" he grunted, panting faster that he had been before, "hurts, it hurts."
The fingers stopped, lying limply inside of him. "Color?"
He closed his eyes, giving himself a second to feel, to make sure. "G-green."
The elder hummed in appreciation, stretching his digits to spread Taehyung open. He'd fingered himself that morning already, but he was still not used to the intrusion. Despite the game they were playing, he could tell Yoongi was being gentle, careful. The touch that was on his member returned, slow and deliberate. He was so distracted by it that he didn't notice the third finger until they were all curling inside of him. He cursed, throwing his head back. It felt so much better than anything he'd ever been able to achieve on his own. Ecstasy expanded inside of him, his thoughts halted, he felt out of himself and too present all at once.
Dimly, he heard Yoongi laugh. The sound seemed to grow until it envelopped him, tightening around him, making him small and hot with embarrassment. "Baby girl, open your eyes."
He did. Didn't think about the action, almost out of instict.
"Look at yourself, alpha," he trailed his gaze down as instructed, and shivered when he saw his knot, swollen up against thin cold air, Yoongi’s fingers brushing teasingly at it. "Pathetic."
Yes, he wanted to say, but instead he produced a low sound from deep within his chest.
Yoongi slapped his dick once, twice, making him jolt, before wrapping his hand around him once more. Lazy strokes turned into harsh flicks of his wrist, and the pressure on his prostate morphed into thrusting. Taehyung came apart, he felt the fuzzy sensation spreading all over him, little dolts of pleasure that tingled his skin and exploded. He was only vaguely aware of his hips moving, buckling back and forth on the touch, of Yoongi's voice, low with wanting, whispering filthy things.
"Please," Taehyung said, words sounding far and distant and lacking in air, "need- hyung-"
"I'm right here baby girl," Yoongi pressed a quick peck to his forehead, his tone teasing.
Taehyung shook his head frustratingly. He felt lightheaded, overwhelmed with too many sensations. "Wanna’ come," he was finally able to say, his torso rumbled with the force of his growl, primal and desperate, "wanna’ come, hyung."
Yoongi hummed like he was considering it. Taehyung was sure he was going to trip over the edge, but then there was a tight grip at the base of his cock, and the pleasure stumbled, staying afloat for a moment before diminishing only slightly. "How bad do you want it, alpha?"
He only grunted in response. He tried to move, to push Yoongi's cruel hand away, but his limbs were still too heavy to lift.
"Beg me for it, beg me like the whore you are."
Taehyung shuddered again. In between the shame, he felt something akin to affection, gratitude. Love. He stayed silent for a moment, too long, because then Yoongi's mouth was around him again, and if he had no chance of keeping himself together then, now he was done for. "Please, please, hyung, let me- let me come- I can't, I can't."
There was a moment in which he was sure Yoongi wasn't going to let up, that he was going to make him stay like this forever, in a permanent state of helplessness, but the touch relented, just as Yoongi deep-throated him, and Taehyung dig his nails into the sheets as he came, feeling Yoongi's muscles contract as he swallowed.
But Yoongi didn't stop. As he retracted his head, making an obscene pop, he took a hold of Taehyung’s cock just like he'd done before, preventing the blood from escaping. The youngest tried to writhe away, the sensation was blurring between light tickles and pain. "Wait- hyung- Too much." His body was too heavy to move too far, and he felt dizzy. "Stop, stop, please."
"What do you say, Tae-tae?" He shook his head stubbornly, tugging at Yoongi's arms without much success. "I just let you come," Yoongi flipped him over. The turn made the room spin a little. Then there was a harsh hit to his ass cheek, and he yelped in surprise. "What do you say, baby girl?"
"T-thank you, thank you."
"That's better," Yoongi squeezed his cock between his fingers, moving his hand up and down slowly. Taehyung protested, in between huffs and small giggles. "You thought you'd just come and we would be done for?" Another hit. The pain travelled directly to his crotch. Taehyung moaned. "You're mine, my little fucktoy, and I'll play with you as long as I want; you got that?"
He didn't answer, wasn't able to construct a full sentence before Yoongi spanked him again, so hard his hips bucked forward.
"I said, you got that?"
"Yes," he cried out, "yes hyung, yes sir." There was no praise, no reward. That was reserved for other times, and Taehyung was glad for it. Yoongi gave him another light tap, and said; "hands and knees, slut."
Taehyung struggled with himself. He started to move, but it was too difficult, and his instincts got the better of him; he felt his throat vibrating with a protest. Yoongi rolled his eyes, although Taehyung didn't see him, only felt his arms around his waist, tugging until his legs were hanging outside of the bed, and then, after a pause, Yoongi was entering him.
"Fuck," he mumbled out, his mouth hanging open, limp on the sheets, "oh fuck, oh god."
"Look at you, baby," Yoongi groaned, nibbling at his ear, "makes you happy, huh? To be my- ngh my little girl."
"No," Taehyung panted, "I'm not."
"No?" Yoongi grabbed a fistful of his hair, "you don't want to be used like this?" Taehyung shook his head, blushing, lying through his teeth. But Yoongi knew he wasn't telling the truth for a fact, partly what made it so good. "You're just too weak to stop it? What a pathetic-" Yoongi yanked his head with a particularly fast thrust, "excuse of an alpha."
Taehyung whimpered, couldn't help the nod he gave even though he wasn't supposed to let on how much he loved this. The words caused a shiver to travel through his whole spine.
He felt Yoongi's pace faltering, lips brushing on the back of his neck. "Shit, I'm going to- color, Taehyung-ah."
He knew what was coming. Anticipation bubbled inside of him. Yoongi had never knotted him before, they'd thought it was too dangerous for a first time. But this wasn't a first time anymore. "Green, green, so fucking green."
And then it happened.
It hurt. So much. Taehyung made a sound probably high enough to be considered screaming. He bit into the sheets. It burnt all along his spine, his fingers, his eyelids, everywhere. His body sent a shock of signals, of how wrong and unnatural this was, his instincts went crazy, adrenaline pumping his veins. He could feel his eyes flashing red, could feel a shame he'd never experienced before, deep, intrinsic, he felt defeated and humiliated and so, so incredibly turned on.
"Oh my god," Yoongi gasped, gripping at Taehyung hard enough to leave bruises. He wondered what the elder was feeling, if knotting an alpha was tighter, if he felt more powerful. "Fuck, I knotted you, oh my god- color- color, baby, please." He could physically feel him trembling above him, hand clenching and unclenching, struggling to keep his composure. His voice betrayed how close he was to lose it, but he kept himself together, for Taehyung.
God, he loved Yoongi so much.
"Yes" he managed to let out after a moment, didn't realize how tense his jaw was until he spoke, "green, g- uh, fuck."
Then Yoongi shifted, thrusted inside, and his knot brushed right on his prostate, stretching even farther.
"Mine," Yoongi growled, and this time his presence was so much bigger than Taehyung, he felt no fight left inside of him. "You're mine."
Taehyung lost his sense of self. He dissolved into pure pleasure, and pain, and something he couldn't describe.
"Say it," Yoongi's touch on him tightened, tugging at his scalp and digging nails on his hip, "who's in control?"
It wasn't only the physical sensation of it, wasn't only that he'd touched himself relentlessly to this idea for months, it was so much more.
"You, you are."
It was the fact that Yoongi was owning him, showing him who was in charge, putting him in his place, making him- making him his bitch with his knot-
"What are you?"
Taehyung’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He felt drool coming out from his mouth, but he couldn't care less about it. His answer was barely intelligible, mumbled out from gasping lips. "Yours, your- bitch- uh, your- fuckt-"
"Yes," Yoongi rambled on, speeding up, the sounds of their bodies clashing together filling the room. "Mine. All mine. My little- bitch- my- oh, god, I'm-"
Taehyung felt Yoongi's orgasm like it was his own. The sensation of his cum filling him up and the clench of muscles finally made him unravel as well. He came untouched, and it seemed to last forever, so intense he genuinely blacked out for a few moments, he could still see what was happening, but in a detached sort of way, like he was dreaming. When he came back to himself, he was half sitting on the bed, and Yoongi's fingers were clumsily clenching at the base of his cock. He was startled when he felt wet, tight walls around the tip, widened his eyes when he saw what the elder was planning. "Wait-" his whole body convulsed, "too much, too much, hyung, please, sto- stop." Pain shot up all around him, mixed in with something akin to tickling, but more intense. There was no way his cock was still hard. Yoongi started dropping on him, fast, too fast. "Yellow, yellow, I'm sorry, I can't, I can't."
Immediately, it all stopped. He felt Yoongi's hot breath on his skin, tried to focus his eyes to him. There was concern on his expression. "Slower?" he asked. "Or do you want to stop? Do something else?"
He shut his eyes to ponder, letting his head fall into the headboard of the bed. "Slo- slower, just slow down, please."
Yoongi kissed gently at his knuckles, and moved again, this time taking his time. "Of course, baby girl."
"Thank you," Taehyung rambled on. He felt like his mind was slipping between his fingers, similar to what he'd experienced before, but so much bigger. "Love you, love you, hyung."
Yoongi hummed. "I love you too, my little bitch."
Taehyung moaned, curled into himself to be closer to Yoongi. His erection struggled after being forced to stay like that. Yoongi didn't give him any breathing room, his eyes shut and his face contorted in pleasure, seeking his own satisfaction. Taehyung envied him for a moment, for how easy it seemed for him to reach his climax again. Of course it was, Taehyung had seen Yoongi have about four orgasms without any trouble whatsoever. It was one of those questions that had been answered when his status as a beta was revealed.
"C'mon, baby," the elder mumbled, fingers digging on the edges of Taehyung’s throat, brushing at his nipple. "Knot me, alpha."
Taehyung whined. He could feel a familiar tingling on his member, but it was too light, his thighs tensed, chasing something that wouldn't quite get there. "I can't, I can't."
Yoongi smirked like he was expecting that answer. "Poor little thing." he flicked at Taehyung’s nipple. The youngest whimpered, shaking his head pleadingly.
"I can't do it," he managed in between shallow inhales of air. "I can't come again. Please-"
"So pathetic," Yoongi pinched at his skin, his free hand pressing at Taehyung’s lips until he let up, letting him tug his lip down. "Useless."
Taehyung shut his eyes, and this time he did cry. His shoulders shook with sobs, the desperation growing and growing on his gut. Yoongi wiped the tears gently. "Please," he let the words spill out from his lips, not caring if they didn't make sense, "I can't, I can't, please- pleasepleaseplease-" His voice died from lack of air. He felt all of his muscles contract from effort. Faintly, he heard Yoongi calling his name, felt him tremble above him. He was almost there, almost-
A few drops of cum spilled from his cock, and then it was over. Taehyung felt himself crashing back down, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He opened his eyes with effort. Yoongi slipped off him, and he let his own weight drag him until he was laying down entirely.
He expected to feel a lot of things, remembered Jungkook sniffing at his chest, Yoongi sobbing on the table, but he just felt warm inside, happy, and so very exhausted. He'd already cried all the tears he needed.
Yoongi, on the other hand, snuggled up close to his chest, pulling at him like he was desperate, leaving a trail of messy kisses down his neck. "I'm sorry," he choked out, and Taehyung realized he was crying, "so sorry, did I hurt you? You were so good, Tae-tae, perfect, I didn't mean it, any of it."
He hummed contently. He knew how to do this, and being approached with a familiar task was comforting. He drew soothing circles on Yoongi's back. "No, hyung," he yawned. His voice sounded incredibly low, a little slurred, like he'd just woken up. "Didn't hurt me. I loved it. Love you. Thank you for doing this for me."
Yoongi took a deep breath. Taehyung felt it tickle on his skin. "Why am I always the one crying?" He couldn't help himself. He snickered. Yoongi slapped him on his chest, "don't laugh! It's not funny!" but he was chuckling too.
"It is a little, funny, though."
Yoongi snorted, all of his spite dying down. "Shut up. Be helpful and give me feedback."
Taehyung just placed a chaste kiss over his lips. "It was amazing, all of it. And I expect you to keep that promise of dressing me up."
Yoongi smiled in between sniffing. "Deal. Now can we please take a shower? I'm dripping cum."
Taehyung pouted, holding the elder close to his chest and rolling until they were spooning. Yoongi yelped, but still giggled. "M'tired, wanna’ sleep."
"Taehyung-ah," Yoongi pushed at his chest playfully, although without any real force to it. "We're all sticky, c'mon."
"Fine, but afterwards I want a hot dog."
Yoongi giggled again, in that way that showed his gums, and lightly tapped Taehyung’s nose with his finger. "Deal."
i aM AWARE THAT DICKS PROBABLY DON'T WORK LIKE THIS BUT SINCE THIS IS ABO ANYWAY JUST SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF A LITTLE, OKAY? TY