BTS Relationship Imagines: VHope, NamJin, VKook, AND YoonMin

I Like It (VHope)

It’s a surprise when he presses soft kisses to the base of Taehyung’s spine, ghosting his mouth down his body as his hands pull at his underwear until it’s resting at the crook of his knees. He kisses Taehyung’s thighs, nipping lightly here and there, jolting Taehyung’s heart right into his throat.

His arms are growing weak under all of his weight, his head hanging lowly between his shoulders as the blades of his back protrude sharply. “Hyung,” he whispers. “Come on.”

“Yah. Patience,” Hoseok says. But his hands move a bit faster, his mouth kissing a bit softer. He spreads Taehyung apart, grazing a finger over his rim. Then, suddenly, Hoseok’s tongue is pressing right up against him, and it’s warm and wet, and too much of a shock.

Taehyung chokes out a gasp, falling onto his elbows. He buries his face into the comforter and whines loudly. “Hyung—” his voice cuts sharply through the room; he cants his hips and pushes back against Hoseok’s mouth. It’s sheer reaction, really. Taehyung doesn’t get to feel this often, because Hoseok only does it on the rarest of occasions—which is never enough for him.

A soft, muffled moan falls from his mouth and onto the bed as Hoseok licks with the flat of his tongue. Taehyung’s running the tips of his fingernails over his own stomach, teasing himself with feather-light touches. His cock is already wet, and painfully hard, hanging heavily between his thighs. He knows he shouldn’t touch himself yet (Hoseok likes him to wait until the very end) and refrains from doing so. But not without immense self control. Goosebumps ripple up his legs, amplifying Hoseok’s languid motions, and Taehyung shivers, unable to control his body’s gentle spasms. He feels the slight stretch as Hoseok dips the tip of his tongue in, only to pull it back out. He pushes back in, comes out. In, out, in, out—over and over until Taehyung’s whining deeply in his chest, his hips rocking back against Hoseok’s face.

He feels the burn start low in his belly, coils pulling taut, heat spreading to his face. His breath hitches, face flooding with color as he falls forward onto his chest, unable to hold himself upright any longer. He’s starting to ache all over as Hoseok works faster, harder. Taehyung’s positive he’s not going to stop teasing until he’s begging for it, but just as quickly as it all began, Hoseok pulls away. Seconds later, he’s pushing one thin finger into him, and he’s pushing deep.

“Ohh—” Taehyung lets his body sink farther down into the mattress. Normally, he would be embarrassed by the way his ass is stuck out, entirely exposed, but Hoseok adds another finger and Taehyung’s reduced to a mindless, panting mess. He’s starting to burn all over, knees sliding farther apart, body falling closer to the bed with every push of Hoseok’s fingers. He manages to keep his whining down to a minimum, but there isn’t a damn thing he can do about the gasping breaths that come out of him, chest heaving, throat burning dryly. He has his cheek pressed against the bed, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open in a soft scowl. Hoseok presses a third finger into him, and Taehyung feels like he’s about to cry.

He reaches down between his thighs, quickly rubbing his palm over the head of his cock. He doesn’t expect it to feel so fucking good, or to tighten painfully around Hoseok’s fingers. Precome drips from his cock onto the blankets, and he’s tempted to grind against the bed—and that’s it. That’s all he’s willing to take.

“Hyung, please—”

Hoseok shushes him, pushes his fingers farther in. He curves them—just barely—and uses the entirety of his arm to thrust them inside. The motions are quick and hurried, pushing and pulling Taehyung’s hips easily. His knees slide over the comforter, soft whimpers sounding harsh and loud between the quiet walls; his lips are parted, damp with spit. He’s cursing under his breath, and when Hoseok’s fingers press hard against his prostate, he cries out, thrusting his hips forward into nothing.