#jungkook crime

[lazystar]

The Long Way Home

Choi San x Fem!Reader

WC: ~ 6.5K

Warnings/Content Notes: 18+ !!! MDNI!!! SMUT, BDSM Dynamics, Dom!San, Sub!Reader, BFFS -> FWB -> Lovers. ANGST! Cursing, Alcohol Consumption, Jungkook at the scene of the crime, Jokes about divorce. Smut warnings after the cut.

_________________________________________

A/N if you enjoy reading this please consider reblogging and leaving a comment ty it genuinely means a lot to me to see y’all’s reactions to my work :)

SMUT Warnings: BDSM Dynamic, Dacryphilia, Impact Play, Bondage, Choking, PIV Sex (no mention of protection remember to wrap it up y’all), Fingering (F Rec), Degradation.

The Long Way Home

_________________________________________

Tequila was the worst invention known to man. Your pounding head and naked body declared this thought as you gazed over to the man in the bed beside you. Some jock you couldn’t even recall the name of. He was some fucking guy, maybe his name was something basic like Matthew? If he asked you his name you would’ve blanked and probably said some random name like John. His snores made your head sting with a headache as you tried to recall how you ended up nude and having to do yet another walk of shame.

The memory hit you as you shrugged on one of your one night stand’s hoodies and your jeans. The walk of shame uniform, some random guy’s clothes paired with your own you sighed to yourself.

The bright lights, booming bass, jungle juice, and losing your best friend in the crowd as you both flirted with the many attractive people at the party. It was just a local affair. Crawling with the washed up twenty somethings that all resided in rather small city you called home. All of them regularly relived the glory days of raucous partying and drinking away the stressors of everyday life, you and your best friend and roommate wee no exception to this.

It was cheaper than a bar and honestly more fun. Mr. Anonymous was one of the hosts and putting on his best Flynn Rider-esque smolder as you batted your false lashes and giggled like a fool. You were about to “oh my god you’re so funny” your way into some good sex. Or so you thought, except you recalled on your walk to your apartment that the guy didn’t even last five minutes and you didn’t even cum. It wasn’t even hook up yelp review worthy.

You barged into you and your best friend San’s shared apartment with a loud huff slamming your keys onto the entryway table. Not even looking up from his phone San let out a laugh, “Who the fuck pissed in your cheerios bun?” Bun had been your long time nickname from San due to your shorter stature and constant habit of twitching your nose when annoyed.

“Well Mr. Mountain Flynn Rider guy didn’t even last ten minutes and I was left disappointed AGAIN!!!” You wailed as you flopped beside him onto your lumpy couch. “Like I get it, I take a while to finish but he couldn’t at least help me?! Where is the fucking decorum in hookups these days.” He lets out a loud laugh at your rant and then suddenly stopped, he looked over at you like he just discovered the secret to time travel. Eyes wide and brows raised, his mouth was agape with a smile.

“I just got the best idea! Why don’t we just start hooking up. We talk enough about our sex lives since we’re so close, we know what the other likes. Why not just fuck?” He says his grin now a smirk, he waggled his brows and nudged you with his elbow.

“Did you smoke something? Are you high? Are you unwell? That’s a fucking terrible idea! Like holy shit that’s an insanely bad idea! One of us could catch feelings, someone could get hurt, it would be a mess. Have you seen any movies where that works out?” You exclaim. Your hands were thrown in the air and you began to consider smacking San upside the head in hopes you could help him create some new braincells for some cognizant thoughts. He just shrugged your way and continued on with his master plan.

“Bun, honey. Think about how much easier and safer it would be. No walks of shame, we’d get tested first obviously, I wouldn’t fuck anyone else so we both stay safe, and come on. I know how you like it.” His voice grew almost husky as he looked deep into your eyes. The change in his energy made you squirm and you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked. You had eyes, you knew your best friend of over ten years was hot with his dark eyes and muscles that practically bulged out of his tight shirts.

“Fuck it. Show me what you got.” And with that his lips crashed onto yours, his hand laced into your hair tugging on the roots just hard enough to make you whine into the kiss.

“Oh Bunny I’m gonna ruin you.”

“I’d like to see you try Sannie.” He quickly knocked the smirk off your face with his hand wrapping around your neck, he squeezed a bit and gave you a glare.

“You shouldn’t have said that.” Your underwear was soaked as you gazed at him with wide eyes and a moan fell from your lips as he chuckled darkly. He quickly tugged the hoodie off of you and smirked down at you, noticing your lack of a bra. “Fuck your tits are so gorgeous, look at you. You look pathetic all needy for me.”

“ ‘M not pathetic.” You whined. His hand that was around your throat previously gripped your jaw squeezing your cheeks.

“Yes you are, I bet you’re all soaked and your little pussy is begging for me to fuck you. But sweetheart, you didn’t earn it did you? Back talking, sassing me, telling me that fucking me was a horrible idea. Such a dumb little bunny under me. I should just leave you right here all worked up.” You felt out of control as you shook your head no, ten minutes ago you would have never thought of yourself having any sexual relationship with San. But here you were silently pleading for him to fuck you stupid. He watched with glee as your eyes began to water and you began to beg for him to touch you, for him to play with you like a doll. He had you where he wanted you, needy, lust filled, and wanting only him.

“Sannie please! I want you! I need you! I’m gonna fucking lose it if you don’t do something.” Your voice was whiny and you sounded on the verge of tears as your roommate simply smirked at you.

“You have ten seconds to strip and get on my bed, You know how I’ll wanna see you waiting for me.” You bolted, shoving your jeans down and kicking them off, then your panties as you scurried to his room. You practically leapt onto his bed and got right into his favorite position; kneeling on his bed, hands on your knees, head held high, not moving a muscle.

San during your rendezvous rundowns had divulged his preference for BDSM encounters rather than vanilla ones. His stories had you internally squirming when you two discussed your sexual encounters. You hadn’t really had experience with kinky sex like San did. He’d visit BDSM clubs, done his online research, met up with some subs once or twice as he learned more about his dominant side. He told you about how he loved when some of his submissive partners would cry as he would play with them, using impact toys, vibrators, ball gags, collars. He was a rigger, he explained one time, loving using intricate knots and ties with rope to create, as he put it, “the perfect present for myself”. He loved seeing how his other partners would plead to touch him as he fucked them into delirium.

Now here you were, about to get fucked into that same delirious state. San strolled into the room and leaned against the doorway as you kept your pose. He loved seeing you following his unspoken orders. But he knew as a good dominant he had to make sure you were comfortable with him. “Y/N before I do anything I want to know your limits, what are you comfortable with? I know you like choking and hair pulling, some spanking, some spit play. But is there anything you don’t want me to do to you?” You blushed at his consideration, you knew he was going to do this but seeing his concerned eyes and soft smile your way had you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“Ummm, no face slapping, just hands being tied or bound is okay, I wanna be able to see you, and um, just don’t go too crazy. Oh and don’t call me a bitch I’ll kick you.” You nodded, your last sentence elicited a chuckle from San as he shook his head walking over to you.

“So you’re okay if I for example say, hmmmm. Y/N you’re being such a good little whore for me. Getting right how I wanted you and answering my questions like an obedient little slut.” His brow quirked and he tilted his head. He didn’t show it but he was reeling watching the shy flush on your cheeks and how you tried to rub your thighs together to feel some friction.

“Yes Sir, that's okay with me.” You nodded, quietly appraising his reaction to the title. A growl erupted from him as he manhandled you onto your back and spread your legs wide.

“Oh Bunny, Sir’s gonna make you fucking scream.” With that promise he pulled you into a searing kiss as he began to push his fingers inside you and quickly locate the spot that made you cry out in pleasure. He watched as you threw your head back and moaned, his fingers grew faster as you began to squirm. He wasn’t even fingering you for that long, maybe a few minutes but he had you on the brink of your first orgasm. “Aww is Bunny gonna cum already? Uh uh, not yet baby, you gotta beg for it.” You cried out in frustration as he pulled his fingers out and slowly began to circle your sensitive clit.

“Please sir, please let me cum. I fucking need it. I’ll be so good, I’ll do anything. Please let me cum and make a mess for you.” Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged for him to let you cum. You felt like you were going to squirt all over the sheets as he toyed with you. He smirked and roughly shoved two of his fingers back in you and jackhammered them right at your g-spot. The slick sounds of how wet you were along with your moans and panting breaths were all San heard. He bent down and kissed at your neck has he slowed his fingers down for a moment and made a come hither motion with them, the attention on your g-spot had you falling into a state of euphoric delirium, you couldn’t even think a coherent thought as you moaned out his title over and over again.

“Fucking cum for me Bunny. I wanna see what a messy little slut you are for me.” He whispered into your ear, the kiss on your lips that followed sent you over the edge, his fingers quickened as he leaned back up to watch your orgasm splash against his palm and your body thrash about, he watches as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back arched as he continued the onslaught on your overly sensitive pussy. Your cries of relief and his name had him on cloud nine, this is what he had wished for. He had wanted you in his bed more than anything when he would hear your hookup stories. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, to hear you moan his name has he pounded into your wet cunt. Now here you were coming undone all over his sheets and whining as he overstimulated you.

“Sannie I cant take any more too sensitive.” You whined and he stopped immediately. He laid beside you and pulled you into his arms, rubbing yours and whispering praises into your sweat soaked hairline. Your head lulled onto his shoulder and you snuggled into his body heat feeling safe and relaxed as you synced your breathing with his.

“You were so good for me Bunny, you did so good. How do you feel? Do you need me to clean you up and get you some water?” You nodded and he went into the bathroom and grabbed a damp washcloth and gently cleaned up the mess between your legs. After, he grabbed you a glass of water and helped you drink as he kept on praising how well you took your first time with him. “So what do you say? Want to keep doing this?” You nodded aggressively and he let out a light laugh as he kissed your forehead. “Only time we’ll have rules is in the bedroom okay, no need for those dumb ass contracts or whatever shit they do in those girly movies you like. It’s still us being us except I eat you out and boss you around in bed.” You let out your own laugh and statement of agreement. He made it all so casual and comfortable. Any worries you had fell to the wayside as you found yourself under him once again, his hands in your hair and yours cupping his cheeks as giggles made their home in between each kiss.

You fell into an easy routine that was just you two being Mountain and Bun, except now you often are sleeping beside one another sticky from sweat and he’s made you cum several times. It felt right, like you two had been destined for something more than friends.

Soon enough the kisses and physical affection transferred from the walls of your apartment to out in public. Your friends noticed the possessive hand around your waist and glares San would give at any man who would look for a tad too long at you on nights out at the bars and clubs in the city. But when asked if something was going on between you two, San would lead the way with denying anything more than friendship. This lead to a routine of you both denying anything serious was going on, much to everyone’s disbelief as it was clear as day you two were more than friends.

It was an unspoken rule to deny a connection between you two when asked, but a spoken one to only sleep with one another. You two were just friends, friends who kissed, cuddled, and slept together. Friends with benefits, nothing beyond that. Right?

But, something beyond San tying you up and regularly making you cum up to ten times a scene was going on. Stolen kisses, cuddles under the glow of the tv, and nights ending in romantic passionate sex were growing more and more common. Mornings where you would find yourself wrapped around him as he cooked you breakfast, lazy days spent in his favorite hoodies, nights where you laid by his side and played with his fingers as you compared the size of his hands to yours. It was more than just lust.

You knew you were down bad, but you had no one to explain it to. There was no rule against being open about sleeping together but you both seemed to agree silently on keeping it just between you two. The pair of you seemed to just keep it under wraps to avoid your friend’s questions or comments. But avoiding it all was becoming too much, it was driving you insane. It was making you feel used and discarded even if he was treating you so well, you just wanted him to say something so you knew he wasn’t just using you.

Fall came, leaves crashed against the sidewalks and your feelings began to chill like the air outside. It was another night out for you, San, and your seven other friends, this time in a crowded club with booming bass, sultry air, and many other drunk people looking for a good time. You and San were dancing on one another with him subtly peppering kisses on your neck as your hips swayed against his. After a while you pulled away shouting you were grabbing another drink.

At the bar a tall, tattooed man saddled up beside you. His eyes danced along your figure admiring the short dress adorning your frame. His lip rings emphasized his sultry smirk as he offered to buy you a drink. “The name’s Jungkook. I’ll buy you a drink, but in exchange grant me once dance.” You were charmed by his attitude and agreed. Your hands soon found their way around his neck as his grip met your waist. The heavy beat of the R&B of the club and the lust filled air around you two pushed San from your mind as the tall man had stolen your attention.

“Gorgeous I don’t think your boyfriend is too happy you’re dancing on me like this.” The raven haired male said into your ear as you both swayed to the beat. His strong grip on your waist was anchoring you to the moment. The liquor swirled your brain as all of your inhibitions began to throw themselves aside. Your attention was brought back to San, you could feel his angry laser like stare on your back as you danced with Jungkook. Why was he mad? It’s not like he would openly say anything about you being off limits anyways.

“He’s not my boyfriend, just my roommate. We hook up but it’s nothing serious.” You reply back loud enough to be heard over the music.

“So he won’t keep staring at me like he wants to murder me if I kiss you?”

“He can be mad he doesn’t get a say in who I kiss.” You snark back and Jungkook pulls you into a kiss, his hands snaking down to grab your ass over your short skirt and your hands reaching into his flowing locks. Before things could get too heated you felt a hand grabbing your arm and pulling you away. “WHAT THE FUCK LET ME GO!” Your disagreement went unanswered as San dragged into a hallway away from prying eyes.

“Y/N what the actual fuck was that? Were you trying to make me jealous?! Well congratulations it fucking worked. You’re mine, nobody else’s. I thought you knew that.” His voice was filled with anger and his tone was almost like a snarl. You shivered and felt the familiar feeling of your head beginning to float at his authoritative behavior.

“Sannie, you never said we were anything more than friends with benefits. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to kiss other boys, I wouldn’t fuck them but I can’t kiss em?” Your tone was playful but also clearly annoyed at his power play when he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was the guy you lived with and fucked, not the guy telling you he loves you and wants to spend his life with you.

He had no power over you when it came to expanding your horizons while being single.

“No Y/N you’re mine.” San’s glare began to anger you. He can’t say shit like that then not say you two were a couple.

“No San. I’m not fucking yours, matter of fact I’m never going to be ‘yours’. You can have someone else in your bed, sharing a place with you, and being your plaything. I’m done with the games and the back and forth on what I am to you. I’m so done with you. If you have any once of respect for me you’ll do me a favor leave me the fuck alone.” You stormed away before he could even make a move to try and save the shreds of your relationship. You walked as fast as you could to find your friend group. With your head hung low and as quiet of a voice as you could muster in the loud club you told your friends, Hongjoong, Yunho, Minho, Seonghwa, Jongho, Yeosang, and Wooyong that you were not going to be able to go participate in your regular hang out nights anymore, your only explanation being you and San weren’t on good terms and you didn’t know if your friendship would be good again.

The guys didn’t see or hear the exchange but they saw the angry tears running down your cheeks that you had been trying to hide and knew that the situation was not good in the slightest. They watched you angrily wipe at your mascara stained cheeks and march off. They were worried for you. They saw San off in the hallway he had pulled you to, his head was pressed to the wall as sobs wracked his body. His fist was hammering the wall as he appeared to be cursing himself for what went down. The boys felt like children caught in the middle of their parents fighting and it had them all feeling a major sense of unease.

You spilled the beans a few days later to Yeosang, Wooyong, and Seonghwa when they came to check on you while you were staying on your friend Winter’s couch. She was helping you navigate moving out and moving on from the boy you had been hurt by. She knew the whole story and comforted you as you told the three boys about everything, well not all the sexual things after you got into a little bit about it and they looked ready to send you off to a convent. The boys were angry for you they understood that you felt played and that your feelings seemed to be disregarded, but they also understood that San was not the best when it came to emotional vulnerability or communication. They wanted you to open the door to him to try and repair things. But you were insistent on never speaking to San again due to how hurt you were. You couldn’t bear looking him in the eyes knowing you had been a toy to him. That he wanted to have all the aspects of dating you, but wouldn’t even admit he was sleeping with you. Was he embarrassed with you? Were you not enough? Your mind would spiral every night as you laid on Winter’s couch questioning your value to San, your friendship as a whole, your own sense of self. You picked yourself apart to the atom, finding more and more reasons to wonder what it was that made San begin the denial of your relationship when asked about you.

They helped you pack your things when San was at work and within the hours of his shift any trace of you was gone. Your new apartment was only a few blocks away with San none the wiser. When he came home to see every trace of the years you’d shared by his side gone, his heart was crushed like a hammer was hitting him square in the chest. The end of September was now San’s least favorite time of year, because it’ll forever mark when he lost to you due to his own stupidity.

Days without either of you speaking turned into weeks, then months. The cold gray winter had come in to chill your bones and steal your breath. It turned your cold heart to ice as you began to move on from the beautiful boy you had fallen for. It was as if the past few years never existed. Like the way you slept for months in his bed was an illusion. It was a fog, always a fog. Until those cold nights called for another body to join you in bed. Nobody else was good enough, it had to be him. The man who had you Pavloved into orgasming to the sound of his voice, the man who made your mind melt. San, Choi San was the only one for you.

San was no better off, cold nights yearning for your touch. Your voice haunting every time he had to rub one out. “Please Sir, please let Bunny cum! I-I’ve been so fucking good for you please!” one of his favorite memories. He could always remember every aspect of that night. He had been practicing some new Shibari tie methods and had you bound into the perfect present, intricate knots holding your breasts in place, your pussy exposed with your hands bound to your legs so you were immobile. You looked delectable with those pleading yet wild eyes, drool leaking from your mouth, and makeup running down your face. You looked practically angelic to him as he watched your eyes roll back into your head as he bullied his cock into you over and over, he recalled how with a whispered “such a good girl for me, yes you can cum.” the scream that flew from your lips as your eyes rolled back, the gush of your orgasm around him and how your pussy milked him dry. He remembered how you looked at him with such loving eyes as he took care of you and how you would let him lay on your bust as you kissed his forehead and assured him he wasn’t too rough with you. He remembered that while you slept he uttered “I love you” while he looked at you.

But he couldn’t get to make memories like that again, not until you’d let him speak to you, not until he could fucking find you that is. And most definitely, not if you have a new boyfriend or someone he can’t compete with for your heart.

While the two of you were pining for the other like a high school production of Romeo and Juliet the rest of the friends you and San shared were extremely annoyed by the way you two were acting like a divorced couple.

“I’m team Mom aka Y/N here but I don’t wanna deal with who has custody of us at Christmas being an issue. They need to kiss and make up” Yeosang declared while sitting with the others at lunch. They had planned a lunch to plan the intervention because as much as they didn’t want to admit it they would rather be annoyed by you two being romantic or possibly walk in on you two, than have to deal with the split custody issue. Thus the “Stop the Divorce” squad was put into action. They wanted you both happy and most importantly back together.

Soon enough their plan to get you two to hash shit out was put into action, Hongjoong the unofficial leader of the group sent San and you separate texts asking to meet up at his recording studio space to hang out. You arrived first, you had made yourself at home on the sofa and then about five minutes later San was walking into the room. “Oh fuck no, I’m not doing this.” You exclaim, grab your things, and make your way to the door to leave. It’s San who surprisingly makes the move to block your way out. Hongjoong and the others maneuvered to exit and lock the door as you and San stared down one another with laser like focus.

“Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Y/N.” He hisses through his teeth, using the tone of voice he reserved for those occasions you would have tested his patience when your dynamic was in place.

“You’re not the fucking boss of me anymore Choi San. Just fucking UGH!! Let me go!” You bark back.

“I’m not going to lose you now when I finally have you back in my life, I won’t make that same mistake again.” His voice sounded as if he was about to cry, it was broken. San’s voice carried his emotions after not seeing you for months,he sounded lost, hurt, terrified, and so, so sad.

“You won’t lose me Sannie, you never did. I went overboard leaving like I did, I was just so… so fucking scared. I was with you every day. I slept in your bed, woke up to you, brushed my teeth while you showered, held you when you cooked. It was becoming so real, so domestic, it felt too coupley when you wouldn’t even claim me as someone you had even been fucking! I couldn’t take it anymore, it was too painful.” Your voice broke as you crumpled to pieces before your former lover. His own eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked at you. Your hair hung in your eyes as you stared at your shoes. Your arms were wrapped around your body like a protective shield as you rocked back and forth avoiding him as your confession hung in the air like a thick fog.

“Oh bun. Shit, baby. I— fuck it. I love you Y/N I have loved you for years. I think it was sophomore year of college when I realized how I’d fallen for you. It was when you were there for me when Mina broke up with me, you didn’t even do anything but sit and listen as I cried. You told me something that day, do you remember?” You shook your head as you looked up at him with wide eyes at his confession. Your heart was thumping, head reeling at the words he’d just blurted out. “You held me and said ‘San, any chance to love you is a chance worth having. You love so greatly, so wonderfully, so wholeheartedly. Love from you in any capacity is love worth lifetimes of happiness that anyone would be blessed to have.’” You began to cry as you realized he was telling you the truth, he remembered verbatim the words you told him that day. He remembered the veiled confession you made.

“San, I love you too.” You whispered, almost incomprehensibly.

“Say it again, please”

“Choi San, I Y/N Y/L/N am undeniably in love with you.” You said louder, now smiling at him with tears cascading down your cheeks. His own tears falling from his eyes as your lips crashed onto his. The kiss tasted like salt from your mingling tears. He smelled like his cologne mixed with his own natural scent that was something so addictive. He felt like home. The warmth of his hands felt like forever.

You moved back in shortly after San confessed, loving him felt like walking on air; light, freeing, and gentle. The domestic routine was something you loved, a good morning kiss, another kiss as you both left for work, a welcome home kiss from him as he cooked dinner to reward you as you came back from a longer day at the office, so many kisses just because. He spoiled you in affection and words of his adoration for you, he made you feel so at home.

It was game night at your home with San, your friends all lounged on your couches as you curled into the worn leather loveseat nestled into the crook of San’s arm. Your head was resting on his chest as your sock covered toes poked at the arm of the small sofa, his laughter lightly shook you as a fond smile crept to your face as Seonghwa was forced into telling another embarrassing tale of his college dating woes. “So she walks into my dorm, I’m thinking ‘hell yeah I’m about to lose my v-card and BAM! The lego collection scared her away like DAMN can’t a man get laid and like legos?” He laments and the snort that left you at his story has the whole group laughing. “Okay just for that miss piggy, your turn, truth or drink?”

“For the sake of my liver, truth.”

“What’s the wildest thing San and you have done while fucking?” The sip of your single glass of wine for the night nearly launches from your nose as the boldness of Seongwha’s question sets in.

“What defines wild to you?”

“Nah sister, just answer the question.”

“Well there was this one time he had me collared with a leash but also tied up in this crazy position, like my ankles and wrists bound together so I was practically immobile. He fucked me so hard I blacked out, we’re okay with like him still going even when I’m not all there in the head. We’ve talked boundaries about that stuff so don’t keep looking at him like he’s a psycho. And yeah, or would you rather hear about how he had to punish me for being such a brat, he went so hard on me that day I had to call off work for three days so the bruises on my ass could heal and I could sit down properly?” You smirked and looked up at San, his eyes were burning onto you as his own smirk settled onto his face. He bent his head down and uttered one small phrase that had you shifting in anticipation.

“Strike one bun, you know I don’t like the idea of them imagining you all exposed and slutty for me.” His voice practically sounded like a purring lion. The shiver that went down your spine was visible to anyone looking your way.

“Well damn. Don’t go having war flashbacks over there Mr. and Mrs. Pornhub.” Yunho prompted as he cleared his throat. You shrugged and the game kept going. The questions only seemed to grow bolder as time passed and soon enough you all grew progressively drunker.

“Y/N truth or drink but if you drink it’s 3 shots this time!” Wooyoung drunkenly declares.

“That’s so foul, okay lay it on me.”

“Who in this room would you tell San you’d be cool to have a threesome with?” San’s grip on your thigh grew harsh in a warning. You promptly took the shots and groans of disappointment rang out as your friends still asked you to answer.

“Fuck it, ummmm Joong I guess.” You say not thinking as the alcohol muffled your mind of any proper filter.

“Strike two.” San’s voice rings in your ear. Like baseball, one more and you’re out of luck. So, you turn on the brat mode.

“I mean come on we all have eyes, Joong is cute and I’m not saying I would do it but hey who knows.” You shrug and you feel San’s eyes burning into your skull as Hongjoong blushes wildly and murmurs a question filled “thank you?”.

The third strike warning never comes as San finds an excuse for the party to end and within the hour you find yourself bent over his lap. The loud thwack! of the shiny leather paddle reserved for only the harshest of your punishments against your ass rings out as he orders you to count. “One! Thank you sir.” THWACK! “T-two! Thank you sir.” and so on until you hit fifteen. Your ass is ringing with pain as he manhandles you silently onto your back with your head hanging over the edge of the bed. You didn’t even have a moment to process before your ankles are on his shoulders and his cock is being pounded into your sopping cunt, tears leaked from your eyes and were hitting your hairline as cries of pained pleasure were ripped from your throat.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like the greedy whore you are.” His warm palm encased your throat as he squeezed it, choked gasp filled moans fell from your lips as the familiar feeling of floating euphoria filled your mind. The blood rushing to your head combined with the sensation of his hand around your throat squeezing your airway made each thrust hit that much more intensely. Your mind was going blank and you dropped into the headspace that made you lose all sense of thought and control. Your mind was solely consumed by San, only San.

“Sir, gonna cum!” You cried as that knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter. He shook his head and pulled out, he pulled his hand away and maneuvered so he stood at the side of the bed near your face.

“Only good girls get to cum, you know that. Or are you too stupid to remember Bunny?”

“‘m a dumb bunny and forgot sorry sir! Please let me cum!” The tears fell harder toward your hairline as you gazed at him with pleading eyes.

“Suck Sir off and I’ll maybe let you cum.” He asserted and he began to thrust his cock down your throat as soon as your mouth opened. His cock bullied the back of your throat, spit trailed from your lips to your cheeks and hair as you gagged and moaned around his throbbing hard length. You could barely take half of him, but you wanted to please him so badly you relaxed you gag reflex and watched his face screw up in pleasure as he watched his length create a bulge in your throat as you worked to deep throat the entirety of his pulsating cock. It felt like hours of him thrusting in and out of your mouth, your mind was numb and you were still yearning for orgasm. After a few choked “Good girl bunny.”’s you felt his cum shoot down your throat. He pulled out and let the last few ropes of cum shoot over your face moaning as you tried to swallow more of his load.

“Oh Bunny you did so well for me, let Sir make you cum all over for him okay? Want me to eat that pretty little pussy and make you squirt for Sir?” A dumb nod in response was all it took for him to begin lapping at your sopping hole, moans and growls rumbled against your aching clit as he suckled on it like he was having his last meal. His tongue was expertly thrusting in and out of your pussy and his nose brushed your clit as he moved his head to lick you from your asshole to your clit a few times. Your head was reeling as silent screams left your lips, your eyes rolled back into your head as he gently nibbled at your clit. You couldn’t even give San a warning as with one last thrust of his tongue the wire in your core snapped and you felt that jolt of pleasure spread from your head to your extremities. Your legs shook as your fingers dug into his scalp and you held his head to your pussy. Gush after gush of your orgasm flooded from you as he continued to lick and suck at your core. You couldn’t even declare it being too much before another white hot orgasm hit you. You continued to whine and squeal as you soaked the sheets. He pulled away and watched as the lady sprays of your orgasm fled your body. “That’a girl, you there for me baby?” You nodded tiredly as he maneuvered you so your head was resting on a pillow. He had prepared prior to starting the scene having some water, baby wipes, and some pain cream for your ass for aftercare. He whispered soft praises as he moved you once again to massage your aching ass cheeks with the cream and to clean the sticky mess between your thighs with the baby wipes. His gentle touch was so comforting as he made sure you were comfortable after the intense scene was done. Once he was done cleaning you up and making sure you were alright he began to help you sip some water and he whispered more praises to you as you came down to earth from your headspace. Your heart was so full of love and warmth as you took in his gentle hands rubbing your arms and his honeyed voice cooing how proud he was of you, how good you were, and how in love with you he was. He held you close, his chest pressed firmly against your back as you began to be lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the encompassing warmth radiating from his body.

“Sannie?” You whispered hoarsely, looking over your shoulder at him with shining eyes full of happy tears. He smiled and moved to rub them away with his free hand, he peppered kisses on your forehead as he did so.

“Yes my love?”

“I’m so glad the guys made us talk, I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I love you so much.” His own eyes began to fill with tears as he moved so he could kiss you deeply. He didn’t need to respond, his kiss conveyed his feelings. His kiss was warm, filled with the years of adoration he held for you. His arms were safe, protecting you from ever being harmed by the world outside your bedroom. His heartbeat was the metronome by which the melody of your happiness kept time. San was home, he was your forever.

To San, your soft skin was his oasis in a desert. The warmth of your skin on his was his security. Your hands held his heart. Your voice was what he imagined Heaven to sound like. You were his forever. You were his home. You were his peace when the world was too great to bear.

Mr. Mountain and his Bun, could anything be more wonderful? In your eyes, nothing could be better than that. Nothing could be better than loving Choi San. And to him, nothing could be more perfect than loving you with every fiber of his being.

———————————————————————

Taglist: @stolasisyourparent

1 October 2023:

Thank you for reading this far! If you like it please consider reblogging it helps a LOT! Please remember that this is a work of fiction and all of the idols mentioned are used as face claims for characters I’ve come up with. None of their actions or behaviors are indicative of who they maybe be IRL :)

#ateez x female reader #ateez san #ateez choi san #san x reader #ateez smut #kpop x reader #roommates to lovers #best friends to lovers #fwb to lovers #jungkook at the scene of the crime #lazystarwrites #ateez fanfic #non idol au

[darkangelhome]

Happy Taekook Valentine ♥ ♥ ♥

#taekook #BTS #Vkook #Kim Taehyung #V #bts v #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #partner in crimes #love is mutual #seven

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 15: The end of an era

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader 🗡️ word count: 16.4k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+  🗡️ chapter warnings: mention of heroin, complicated feelings, smut (oral and vaginal sex, mmf threesome), trauma response, Yoongi wearing a Haegeum outfit, cocaine use, description of the knife game, an unexpected soft moment and kiss (!!!) 🗡️ note: mc visits Hong Kong. just as i said in the master list post about Korea, all scenery is completely made up. i don't know anything about Hong Kong and i do not wish to describe any neighborhood of Hong Kong in a negative light, so if anything sounds familiar, it is a coincidence. we also meet some of the members of Balming Tiger! and i realize that the mood board is not totally symmetrical but it was important for me to put Haegeum Yoongi in the center.

🗡️ speaking of Haegeum: thank you to everyone reaching out to scream with me about Haegeum!!! it has been a very exciting time to be a crime boss Yoongi author, and sharing the excitement with all of you has been a fucking blast!!! 😍💜 i love my readers very much! thank you all for being here!!! 🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin! 🗡️ posted on april 2023 | read on ao3

As you step out of your shower, the first thing you notice is the sound of voices coming from outside your bedroom door, shouting. One of them is deep enough to be Namjoon, and the other is hard to make out. Could there be something Namjoon is upset about? 

This morning, when you woke up to just Namjoon in the bed beside you, he mentioned that he and Yoongi had a surprise for you, and that you would find out in the evening. There was a tone to Namjoon's voice that you have been trying not to overthink, especially after he asked you for some privacy in the master suite, and you left him to himself with a kiss to his cheek, padding off to your cold, desolate room.

He just seemed…off. Contemplative, maybe. Something seemed to be bothering him, and now that it sounds like he is out in the mezzanine shouting at someone, you begin to feel worried. 

You dry off and take your time rubbing lotion over your legs and arms, curious for more sounds without trying too hard to overhear. Once you are finished and leaving the bathroom, making your way into your closet, his voice is much clearer through your bedroom door—it is definitely him. 

Somewhat thoughtlessly, you begin to push back hangers of clothing, listening intently while looking for something cozy to wear, not wanting to return to the master suite for some of Yoongi's sweatpants, when you hear Namjoon shout, "Jeon Jeongguk, don't you fucking play stupid with me!"

Your hand hovers over the row of dresses dangling from hangers, and you absent-mindedly begin to dance your fingertips over white cotton, curious for Jeongguk's response, but his voice is too soft to make out. Surprising, considering you would imagine Jeongguk to be with one with an explosive temper.

With a sigh, you decide you should get dressed and investigate. Perhaps your presence will help to calm Namjoon. And anyway, you have not seen Yoongi all day, and you feel eager to go ask after him. Last night, after he got word that his informant was dead, it took some coaxing from Namjoon to get him to come to bed, and he gave Yoongi something—a pill, you think—to help him sleep. You were surprised to hear Yoongi snoring; whatever Namjoon gave him really knocked him out. 

You step further into the closet and find a simple black sweater to put on, then rummage through your drawers for some underwear and black leggings. Once satisfied with how cozy you feel, you slide your feet into some plush dark grey slippers and make your way to the doorway.

"But this is much more serious, Jeongguk!" Namjoon shouts. "Everything we have worked for can fall apart if he starts using again!"

"I haven't been dealing fucking heroin," you hear Jeongguk respond, and that halts you in your tracks.

Could someone be using heroin? You think back to your days in the trafficking circle and how some of those men would get so fucked up on the junk, speaking nonsense and tripping over themselves. It was not rare to find a businessman slumped over dead in a dark corner or an alleyway; that drug will ruin someone's life. But none of the family men seem like the type, as far as you can tell. Could it be someone in their outer circle?

"Then where did it come from?" Namjoon asks.

You hate to eavesdrop, and you force yourself to keep pressing forward, toward the door. Regardless, this conversation seems pretty serious, and not something that should be had casually, on the mezzanine, where anyone in the house could hear, making you feel obligated to, at the very least, suggest the men take it somewhere else.

"We don't even know if that's what it is," you hear Jeongguk respond as you reach for the doorknob. "And anyway, I find it pretty fucking weird that you are going through his packages all of a sudden. Did he ask you to do that?"

When you open the door, both men jump. Namjoon looks like he has seen a ghost, face turning pale and widening with worry, and Jeongguk is no better.

"Fellas," you say, surprised when Namjoon only greets you with a limp lift of his hand.

"H-hey," Jeongguk responds. "How much did you hear?"

Dumbfounded, you open your mouth, and then immediately close it, shaking your head. Something tells you that you should not have heard any of that conversation, and you attempt to play coy.

"I only heard the sounds of shouting," you respond, holding believable enough eye contact and doing your best not to look scared. "I was in the shower. Just got out."

Jeongguk looks at your hair, and you hope he notices that it does, in fact, look freshly tended to. His posture is tense—hands shoved into the front pockets of black denim pants. It takes you off guard to see him in a simple black tee and jeans. After his brief inspection, Jeongguk lets out a deep exhale. 

"I need to go meet Taehyung," he says, turning his gaze to Namjoon and raising his eyebrows as he adds, "this conversation is not over. We'll see you guys later."

As Jeongguk begins to walk down the stairs, Namjoon's posture relaxes. His shoulders fall, and you can see him regain his composure. This exchange with Jeongguk really seems to have ruffled his feathers. 

"You alright, Joonbug?" you ask sweetly as you walk over and place your palms on his chest. Namjoon wears a black tee and black joggers, and as his musk hits your senses, you give him a soft smile and stand tall to press a kiss against his jaw.

"Yeah," he responds, offering an expression that is not a smile, but a failed attempt at raising the corners of his lips, making you scoff.

"Why am I not at all convinced?" you tease, kissing down his neck while your palms rub over his pecs. "You seem tense."

"I am," Namjoon mutters as he grips onto your hips with both hands, giving you a gentle squeeze and kicking up butterflies in your tummy. 

If there is one thing you seem to be learning from living under Yoongi's roof, it is the art of distracting someone using sex, and Namjoon seems to be eager for distraction. You begin to walk backward, toward your open bedroom door, gripping lightly to his shirt and giving him a tug. He barely shows any resistance, and this time, his smile is real. 

"Why don't you let me relieve some of that tension?"

"Yeah?" Namjoon asks, smile growing before he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a little nibble, making you wish that lip was between your teeth, instead.

"Hubby coming home soon?" you ask as you step through the threshold of your bedroom. "Should we wait?"

"Nah, he likely won't be back for a while," Namjoon grumbles, eyes losing their brightness at the mention of Yoongi.

You wonder if, perhaps, Yoongi is still taking the loss of Hyunjin pretty hard. Watching a loved one grieve is never easy, and if Namjoon was also close with the guy, his emotions must be rather turbulent right now.

Rather than let you pull him all the way to the bed, Namjoon bends and lifts you from behind the knees, wrapping you around his hips as he turns and sits down on your bed. You drape your arms over his shoulders and straddle his lap, then lean in to suck and nibble on his lip—plush and perfect. 

"This how you want me?" you ask as you lick over his mouth and fix him with a dark, eager stare. 

"Yeah," Namjoon responds, rubbing his hands up your thighs and grabbing your ass firmly in both hands. "This is perfect." 

You lift your hips and grind them down onto Namjoon's lap, watching as his pretty mouth sighs open, and he removes his hands from you to sit back anchored on his palms, giving you more range to tease him. And tease him, you do.

With every roll of your hips, you feel Namjoon's bulge harden. Each of his gasps and groans is louder and breathier than the last, and you revel in how quickly he becomes lost in pleasure—a complete change in demeanor from how he gets when he is in control. 

A particularly loud moan bursts through Namjoon's mouth, and you glance over your shoulder, remembering the door was never shut. When you turn back to Namjoon, he raises an eyebrow and groans, "Forgot to close that."

You hum and say, "We did."

"I don't think I heard Gguk leave," Namjoon says, punctuated with a gasp as you grind yourself on his semi-hard cock. "Should we leave it open for him? Put on a show?"

You playfully smack Namjoon on the back of the head, but continue your movements, feeling the urge to check over your shoulder despite being certain there is nobody out there. 

"Why are you like this?" you complain, but Namjoon just grins and lays flat on the bed. 

Suddenly, you want to get up and close the door. You are not sure whether you would mind having Jeongguk as an audience, but you wonder if any of the other family men could come and go at some point, or if there are staff members walking through the mansion. What if you become so lost in pleasure that you do not hear them down there?

Your hips slow, then still, and you slide from Namjoon's lap, narrowly missing his hands, which make grabbing motions for you as you get onto your feet and tiptoe to the door to close it. Of course, there is no Jeongguk within eyeshot. And what is this feeling in your gut? Disappointment?

When you turn back to the bed, Namjoon is on his feet, pulling the black tee over his head and tossing it to the floor. You do the same, lifting your black sweater off and dropping it where his shirt landed, just to the left of where you stand. You both hook your thumbs into the waistbands of your pants and underwear and bend at the hips in tandem, letting the fabric drop. 

Then you stand tall and step away from the garments, raking your eyes from Namjoon's face, to his tattooed chest, down to his heavy cock and back up before placing both palms on his pecs and shoving him hard enough to send him crashing back onto the bed. Namjoon gasps and chuckles, scrambling to sit up on his elbows while you drop to your knees and spread his thighs with both hands, wasting no time to grip onto his hard, leaking length and give it a tug. 

"Fuck," Namjoon whispers, letting his head loll back. 

"I've barely touched you," you tease, rolling the dribbled precum into your palm and stroking over the head, back and forth with a tight grip. 

"Yeah, but—" Namjoon gasps, hips bucking, "—you never touch me, so everything feels amazing."

"And whose fault is that?" you ask as you sit high on your knees and lean forward to slowly huff out a warm breath over him. Namjoon lifts his head and watches you with wide eager eyes as you jut out your lip, pouting as you say, "You never let me."

Not without permission, anyway, are the words you keep to yourself. Whatever it is that bothers Yoongi and keeps him away from the mansion, you do not want to interrupt, nor consider the ramifications of. You and Namjoon can just share this moment together.��

There is something in Namjoon's gaze that you cannot decipher. It does not seem sad or angry, but it does seem a bit…lost? Distant? You are unsure. And you do not wish to find out. 

Without another word, you angle Namjoon's cock toward your face, delicately holding it by the tip, and you lick from base to crown nice and slow, eyes focused on Namjoon, whose expression melts as a whimper passes through his lips. As you take his tip gently into your mouth, just between your lips, Namjoon's hips tremble. 

There is absolutely no way you will be able to fit his entire cock in your mouth, but you suck as far as you can, bringing him close to your throat and swallowing around him while you slowly stroke the rest of his length with each motion. Namjoon is a mess of whimpers and gasps, resting back, anchored on his elbows while he fights between watching you and letting his head roll from side to side. 

How interesting, you think, that Namjoon so easily relinquishes control without so much as attempting to be in charge, even for a moment. You half expected him to be more like Yoongi is with you, touching and guiding, maybe even telling you what to do—how he likes it. But he simply lays back and takes it, and the noises he makes are unabashed and incredible. 

Perhaps, if it were later in the day, with the master of the home around, you would take your time and really pull orgasm after orgasm from Namjoon, making him cum in your throat before climbing on top to slowly fuck him until you get yourself off once or twice. But today, you want to get this show on the road. You have tentative plans later—some surprise, apparently—and you are not eager for Yoongi to walk in on the two of you like this, should his mood happen to be volatile. 

Once Namjoon's moans become a long, drawn-out chorus of sounds and his thighs begin to quake rather roughly below you, you slowly pull him from your mouth, letting all the pooled saliva drool down from your tongue to his tip before gathering it beneath your palm and slathering it along his length.

"Is it okay that I fuck you already?" you ask.

Namjoon chuckles, says, "Of course it's okay," and begins to sit all the way up.

"I want to ride you," you tell him, watching his pretty, flushed face become all the more excited. "Sit back against the headboard."

With a weak, dazed nod, Namjoon slides back and brings his legs to the mattress, then crawls, moves the pillows out of the way, and settles against the light brown wooden headboard, atop your yellow comforter. You stand and get up onto your hands and knees and crawl to Namjoon, taking in his spread, thick thighs, soft but muscular tummy, unfurling dragon tattoo, and breathtaking face. You cage his hips in with your hands and continue to crawl until your legs straddle him, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at you. 

"You are perfect," he mutters as his hands lift to settle on your hips, and he stares at you with such reverence, it makes you feel shy. 

"Shut up," is all you can think to say in the moment, not eager to unpack the way his expression makes your heart gallop behind your ribs. 

"I mean it," Namjoon continues, voice becoming softer. "I'm falling for you, baby. You know that, right?"

Disinterested in confessions of love, of all fucking things, you reach between your legs, take hold of Namjoon’s cock and rub the head against your heat, squeezing your eyes closed and sighing through your words as you groan, “I said shut up.”

“Wait,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit when you open your eyes and gaze down at him. “Let me lick your pussy first.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, eager to be full and to get this over with before Yoongi returns. Suddenly, the thought of his presence has you feeling anxious, like perhaps you should not be doing this right now. 

Namjoon's head falls back against the headboard with a thunk as he mutters, "You sure?"

You nod and line him up with your hole, saying, "Yeah, I'm sure," as you sink down.

The stretch makes you suck in air and immediately huff it out, and you loll your head back as your eyes squeeze closed, rocking your hips up and then down ever so slightly. Namjoon's fingertips grip tightly to your hips, and his sweet little sounds get louder and more desperate as you slowly work his length deeper. 

"So tight," he groans, and you nod your head, still facing the ceiling. "Squeezing the fucking life out of me, baby."

Namjoon is far too thick for a quick fuck. As you lift your hips, a violent tremble of pleasure rocks through you, causing you to lean with your hands against his chest to steady yourself before you think better of leaning all your weight onto him and reaching one hand after the other to grip onto the top edge of the headboard. 

"God, look at you," Namjoon groans as his hands cup both your breasts, sucking and licking at one nipple after the other, hungrily switching sides as he gently squeezes and massages the soft flesh with his palms and thumbs. 

The pleasure is overwhelming as you sink back down, stretching and filling yourself while Namjoon licks, sucks, and gently nips. You take a second to let out a huff of air that blends into a moan, then lift and drop your hips, trembling through each movement as you slowly adjust to the pleasure-pain and pick up a steady pace. 

"Fuck, you're too big," you gasp, biting down on your lip as Namjoon moans and sucks harder in response. 

Riding Namjoon is dizzying—makes you absolutely lose your mind—and you lift your hips only to slam them down with force, feeling pleasure spark and burst throughout with each rough movement. Namjoon moans and gasps against your skin, covering you in a hot flush of goosebumps and sweat. 

"Touch me, Joonie," you whine, arching your back and neck with your fluttering gaze facing the ceiling. "Make me cum."

One of Namjoon's hands falls away, and he removes his mouth from your breast long enough to wet his fingers before latching back on. The pads of his spit-slick fingertips find your clit quickly and rub in tandem with the rise and fall of your hips, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot through you and make you tremble. 

"F-fuck," you whine, and Namjoon moans a deep, playful sound of encouragement.

Too easy, Yoongi's voice mocks inside your head as your arousal builds and builds. You lift and slam your ass, holding onto the headboard like a lifeline as Namjoon's fingers and mouth pull the pleasure from you steadily. At this pace, it will take you no time at all to come undone completely. 

"You feel like heaven around me, baby," Namjoon mutters against your skin, lips dragging hot and wet, sending a shiver through you.

All you can do in response is let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a hum, unable to form words as Namjoon's fingertips on your clit bring you closer and closer to the edge. With a quake of pleasure throwing your rhythm off, you grind your hips forward and backward, hitting a spot that shoots a surprising wave of ecstasy through you, making your head fall forward.

That is going to make you cum, and you redirect your movements and begin to grind yourself down on him, using his cock to get yourself off as your hips move front and back in quick, desperate ellipses. 

"Oh, fuck," Namjoon groans, slamming his head back against the headboard as one hand grips your ribs while he continues to circle his fingers over your clit. "That's it, baby; make yourself cum."

You whimper and moan, letting syllables fall loosely in failed attempts to praise and beg, so close to the edge that you cannot form a coherent thought, much less sentence. Namjoon must understand you, though, and he swirls his hips just enough to make every one of your movements feel more intense, causing your orgasm to hit hard and fast, throwing you completely from your axis. 

You continue to grind, rushed and frantic as you chase your high, moving until it becomes too intense and you can go no longer, falling forward with your chest against Namjoon's face and your forehead resting against the headboard. 

Namjoon wraps both arms around your hips and lifts, shifting beneath you without pulling out to lay you down on your back. You gasp and attempt to grip onto the yellow comforter for purchase, but Namjoon gets onto his knees and begins to fuck you through what is left of your orgasm so hard and fast that your back arcs, frozen in pleasure, with your hands open wide, unable to grasp onto anything, forcing the last ounce of your sanity to slip between your fingers. 

"This what you need, baby?" Namjoon groans as sweat drips from his forehead, landing on your neck. "Cum on this cock. Show me how much you like it."

All you can do is allow your orgasm to quake through you as Namjoon fucks you into your mattress, and you are grateful for the sturdy bed frame making minimal noise. With your mouth agape, you moan and sob, and finally, when your high begins to hinge on overstimulation, you grasp onto the blanket, clutching it tight. 

"Fuck," you gasp, squeezing your eyes closed. "Too much. 'S too much."

"Call your safeword if you need it," Namjoon commands as his hips continue to slam against your spread thighs. 

You do not want to call your safeword. Truth be told, you hardly want him to slow down, already feeling another high wash over you, covering your skin with tingling warmth. When you open your eyes, Namjoon is frowning down at you, brows knit with concentration as he pounds his thick cock into you with no remorse, and you stretch your arms over your head and tilt your head back, basking in the feeling. 

Sweat drips from Namjoon's forehead and neck, hitting your skin in cool drops, tickling as they trickle down to the comforter below. With your orgasm dissipating, you begin to worry that perhaps you should hurry up and finish before Yoongi returns. But Namjoon feels good—unrelentingly good. You do not want him to stop. 

The loud, shrill sound of Namjoon's phone ringing pulls you from your thoughts, but Namjoon does not slow down, slamming you into the mattress even harder, as if desperate to get off. But then, as if coming to his senses, Namjoon slows his pace, rolling his hips while his moans fade to pants, and he acknowledges the sound. 

With a sigh, Namjoon brings his hips to a stop, all the while his phone continues to ring, and you cannot help but worry that it is Yoongi on the other end. Namjoon pulls out, leaving you feeling cold and empty, and flops onto his side, hanging off the edge of the bed to search for the ringing device before pulling it to his ear and answering it.

"Hey, handsome," Namjoon says as he remains hanging from your bed, panting between words. "Yeah, we were just, uhh…keeping each other distracted until you returned."

Interesting choice of words, and although you admit that you were attempting to distract him earlier, you wonder what he thinks he is distracting you from.

"In her room," Namjoon responds after a pause, and you watch as his smile softens while he stares off to the side. He says, "We'll look forward to it...love you too," with his smile growing, then ends the call, tosses the phone back onto the pile, and sits up with a slight groan.

"I'm sure you could guess who that was," Namjoon says, getting back onto his knees and spreading your legs around his hips. His cock seems to have softened some, and he fists it slowly in one hand.

"Taehyung?" you respond teasingly, watching as Namjoon's eyebrows raise in amusement, then he leans with one hand anchored by your side, towering over you.

"Would you like that?" He asks, voice dark and deep. "Would you like for the doctor to join us?"

With a chuckle, you consider your words, raising your eyebrows much in the same way he had. You are not sure Taehyung's so-called fascination with human bodies—as Felix so colorfully put it—would translate to joining you in bed.

"I think I'm good," you finally say, failing to think of something quippy in response, making Namjoon's cheeks crease with dimples as he chuckles to himself. 

"Do you have the energy to keep going?" Namjoon asks, leaning closer and caging your head in with both hands. His breath is warm against your face, and you do your best to lift your head and strain for a kiss until he gets the hint and lowers even more.

With a low groan, you suck his lip into your mouth, then release it and say, "You didn't cum yet."

Namjoon shrugs, but you can tell by the curl of his lips that he is pleased with your consideration. 

"I don't mind," he responds, and you shake your head. 

"I want you to."

All Namjoon has to do is roll his hips forward and his cock slides into your wet heat, making you gasp and lift your own hips upward, searching for more. He goes slow, pushing forward until his pelvis is pressed into you then dragging himself out, making your eyes roll back as you feel every inch of him along your walls. 

"So big," you mutter almost mindlessly as he thrusts slowly forward, making you dizzy. 

"You take me so well," Namjoon groans against your lips, and you drop your mouth open to whimper through his languid movements, pleased when he dances his tongue over yours and fills your mouth with his own sweet sounds. 

From outside the door, you hear a raspy, "Knock, knock," accompanied by actual knocking, and you smile, feeling warmth bloom in your chest knowing that Yoongi has arrived. You assume that he was pleased with what you and Namjoon were up to based on Namjoon's expression while they were speaking on the phone, and you no longer feel trepidation about him finding you. In fact, with the door to your bedroom slowly opening, you become excited knowing that Yoongi is walking in on the sight of you and Namjoon together. 

Namjoon's mouth is still connected to yours, and his hips do not hesitate as Yoongi enters the room. A low, raspy groan of approval fills the space, and you sink further into bliss, feeling warmth cover you from the knowledge of being watched. And although you cannot see him, you can hear Yoongi getting undressed as fabric hits the floor, followed by the jangling of a belt buckle.

"Is it my birthday?" Yoongi asks, voice closer than you expect, causing goosebumps to bloom over your skin.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, and you whine indignantly, opening your eyes to find him sitting up to connect his lips with Yoongi's waiting mouth. Yoongi stands shirtless, bent over the edge of the bed, anchored on one palm, and his chest is already flushed a pretty, rosy shade, with a red welt the size of a bullet smack dab in the center, surrounded by streaks of healed scars. His slacks hang open, and he fists himself over his black briefs, getting himself hard as Namjoon continues to slowly fuck you. 

"Tell us what we can do for you," Namjoon mutters, rolling his hips at an angle that makes you shudder and whine, feeling a new burst of arousal alongside the familiar. 

"Just want to watch you two," Yoongi groans, hand tightening over his bulge. 

Namjoon kisses down Yoongi's jaw and neck, then backs away and sits up tall between your spread legs, all the while Yoongi turns to look at you, gaze soft and kind as he smiles and bites his bottom lip. You reach out for Yoongi, also eager for a kiss, but Namjoon pulls his hips back and slams them forward, causing your body to seize with pleasure before your arms and head fall back against the mattress.

"Fuck!" you cry, as Namjoon pulls back and ruts forward once more, hard and fast enough to make your head spin. 

"Just look at you," Yoongi groans, and you open your eyes to find his gaze has darkened. "So perfect."

Namjoon grips onto the backs of your thighs firmly with both hands, bowing his back as he fucks you hard and fast, and you clench the comforter as bliss crashes rapidly through you. Sweat beads and drips down Namjoon's torso, and you follow the movement as one particular droplet rolls to his tummy, disappearing against his skin. His abdomen tenses and relaxes as he ruts into you, and you attempt to watch the mesmerizing undulation, but you feel another high rapidly begin to build, and you squeeze your eyes tight momentarily as you reach one hand between your legs to play lazily with your clit. 

At the first touch of your fingertips, you tense up from the burst of arousal, and Namjoon moans while gazing down at you, eyes fixed and hungry. You can tell from the lift of his brow that he wants you to squeeze him again, and you do so, rhythmically tightening your muscles around him until his mouth falls open and he breathes out a deep moan. 

"Not gonna last if you keep doing that, baby."

With a pleased hum, you respond, "Good. Want you to cum," giving Namjoon a mock-innocent smile and flutter of your lashes when he glares at you frustratedly.

Namjoon picks up his pace, making it impossible for you to tease him further—if your walls do tighten around him, it is involuntary, caused by the accelerated pace at which you climb closer to orgasm.

"Fuck, Namjoon! S-so good!" you sob, circling your fingers over yourself faster. Desperate to cum again, you begin to beg, chanting, "Please, please, please," as your eyes roll back and your body arches.

Orgasm quakes and erupts through you, and you lay frozen in pleasure as only rasps and breathy whimpers leave your lips. Namjoon's hips begin to stutter, and he pulls out, taking you by surprise as his cock is replaced by his fingers. He roughly presses them up into your sweet spot, making another orgasm build and explode so fast, you scream, feeling the overwhelming gush of pleasure overtake you.

Your release sprays against your thighs, and Namjoon replaces his fingers with his cock, fucking you at a punishing pace for an intense but short-lived burst before his hips still, and he cums inside you. You babble somewhat incoherently, sobbing as Namjoon's hips tremble, and he sits back, pulling out.

Sweat covers you, turning your red-hot skin cold. Before you have a chance to catch your breath or get your bearings, two large hands grab you by the hips and tug at you, turning you forcefully until your feet fall off the side of the bed, and you find Yoongi yanking your hips to the edge while he sinks onto his knees and buries his face between your legs.

Your cunt is sensitive, and as Yoongi laps his tongue over you, from your hole to your clit and back down, you tremble and sob, overstimulated but already enraptured by the sensation. Yoongi's tongue enters you, and he slurps and hums, eyes closed as he devours you. 

"Holy shit," you whimper as your head falls back, and you lay pliant for Yoongi to taste as he pleases. The thought of him eating Namjoon's cum out of you sends a fluttering of arousal to your core, and you sink further into bliss, only coming back to earth after Yoongi manages to quickly pull a small, steady orgasm from you. 

By the time you open your eyes and meet his glistening smile, you feel as though your soul is barely tethered to your body, attempting to float up into the heavens. 

"No more," you whine, feeling spent beyond belief. "I can't take it. Sakura."

Yoongi's hands slowly rub up and down your thighs, and he chuckles, voice soft and light as air. He raises a brow and asks, "Namjoon fucked you that good, hmm?"

Warmth rises to your cheeks, and you nibble on your bottom lip as you nod, then tip your head to the side to find a sweaty, beautiful Namjoon sitting against your headboard, grinning. 

"I still have enough energy to take care of you," Namjoon offers, eyes drifting to Yoongi. 

You turn and watch Yoongi shake his head and say, "That won't be necessary," cheeks turning a faint, pretty red. 

"Nonsense," Namjoon responds, making his way to Yoongi, crawling on his hands and knees. "It's been too long since you've coated my tongue in your cum, baby. Be good for me and fuck my throat? Pretty please?"

Yoongi sits back on his heels and chuckles, softly shaking his head before glancing up at Namjoon with a fire in his gaze. 

"Well, since you asked so nicely," he drawls as he stands and rubs his palm over his bulge. "Who am I to say no to you, daddy?"

You are certain you are never going to get used to hearing Yoongi calling Namjoon daddy. And when Yoongi drops his slacks and briefs to the floor, taking Namjoon's face in his hands, sliding his cock back into his throat, and holding it until Namjoon turns bright red and gags, you are certain you will never get used to sights like this, either.

The instruction was to wear something comfortable for a long trip, so you opt for the black leggings you had on earlier and a simple burgundy knit sweater. There is a knock at your door, and you look up from the small black suitcase sprawled open on your bed, into which you have been placing loungewear and boxes of your favorite jewelry. 

Earlier, Yoongi insisted he would join you to select gowns and jackets for you to wear once he got dressed, so you have been killing time while waiting. As much as you wanted to join him and Namjoon for a shower, your hair was barely dry from the first one, so you opted to just get dressed and wait for them. You will likely want to shower at the end of this so-called long trip, anyway, so doing so again feels like an irresponsible use of water.  

After another knock, you say, "Come in, Namjoon," knowing it is certainly not Yoongi; he always just walks right in. 

Namjoon's deep chuckle gives him away, and he pushes the door open and steps inside, making you gasp. The sight of him standing in a simple white cotton short sleeve tucked into black slacks should not have the effect it does, but you still watch in awe as every curve of muscle is perfectly accentuated by his clothing. He has a jacket slung over one arm that matches the slacks, and you imagine that once he puts it on, he will look quite dapper.

"I feel underdressed," you complain, glancing down at your pedestrian cozy clothing. 

Namjoon shakes his head. 

"We need to make a pitstop and meet with someone before we head to our destination, and it will be for the best that you are underdressed and unrecognizable."

Although Namjoon delivers this news calmly, there is something about it that makes you uncomfortable. Where will the three of you be headed, and why should you be unrecognizable? Is it mafia related? The thought of being caught in another gunfight kicks bile up into your throat, and you attempt to swallow down the feeling and shake it off.

Namjoon must notice your shift in mood. He quickly rounds the bed and approaches, placing his hands on your upper arms and gently holding you while bending to look into your eyes. 

"Hey, sweetheart, where we're going is safe, okay? Don't worry."

"Safe," you respond, nodding your head slowly. Somehow, you struggle to believe it.

"Yoongi just has to meet with some old friends in Hong Kong. Nobody there should know who we are aside from his friends, and I only meant that you should be unrecognizable in some slim, off-chance that anyone does recognize him."

Namjoon's words are not fully making sense. It is clear that he wants to comfort you, but he also seems to be talking in circles, leading you to think that even he is unsure of what the truth fully is. If someone recognizes him, and you are seen with him, then you will also become a target. The two of you have been seen in public, with a very publicized engagement; surely his enemies must know what you look like now, too…right?

You decide to stop overthinking it until Yoongi joins you; it would be better to ask him about it. Despite how poor of a read Yoongi had on the last situation in which you were told things would be fine, this seems more like something he has planned rather than a surprise visit from unwanted guests, so you hope, at the very least, that he knows what he is doing. 

You nod once more, attempting to take in Namjoon's words, and he wraps you in a hug, pressing your face into his chest. His scent engulfs you, handsome musk dancing prettily with floral notes, and you sink further into him, allowing it to calm you as you take deep, heavy breaths. With another knock, Yoongi enters the room, and you let Namjoon break from the hug and pull away before you turn to Yoongi and, once again, suck air deep into your lungs.

Yoongi stands in a short sleeve button-up shirt with a white and red pattern that resembles palm fronds, which is left open and untucked. A white tank top is tucked into loose-fitting dark denim jeans with holes in the knees, accessorized with a black belt, and his hair is wet and hangs in waves, perfectly framing his face, driving you absolutely wild. He looks like a crime boss from an old 80s film, and it should not be so attractive, but it is.

With a deep, playful chuckle, Namjoon approaches Yoongi, who rounds your bed, and you follow, shoving Namjoon gently out of the way to approach and run your hands over Yoongi's chest, filled with the sudden urge to feel him. Yoongi seems pleased with the attention, quirking an eyebrow at Namjoon as if to tease him while wrapping his arms around your waist. Up close, there are little white stars on his shirt, in between the leaf patterns on top of a black background, and you dance your fingertips over them, surprised to see him wearing such a design. 

"Where did you find a shirt like this?" you tease, and Yoongi directs his quirked eyebrow to you as he chuckles.

"This shirt is Gucci, darling."

As if having a brand name attached to the garment makes it any less absurd. Still, the part of you that appreciates fashion feels a bit excited by the news. 

"We're going to Hong Kong, hyung, not Miami," Namjoon chides, coming into view on your left and stealing Yoongi's smile for himself. "You look like Tony Montana."

"Well, I feel like Tony Montana," Yoongi responds with a playful snarl. "So, I suppose it's appropriate, is it not?"

"Speaking of," you say, hesitant to ruin the mood, but already feeling your anxiety begin to rise. "What are we doing in Hong Kong?"

Yoongi turns his attention back to you and rubs a hand soothingly up and down your back. You wonder if he can tell that you are stressed or if the urge to comfort you is becoming innate. 

"I have to meet with some old friends," Yoongi unhelpfully supplies. 

As you watch him gaze at you, eyes slowly traveling over your features, you can tell that there is more he wants to say, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts. His hand continues its gentle path, easing you into whatever he is planning to say next while his other hand raises to gently take you by the chin.

"There are some aspects of my operations that I would like to…offload, let's say…onto someone else."

After another pause, you pull your lips into a straight line and nod. 

"Well, that could not have been any more vague if you tried," you tease, though your voice is flat and gives no hint of playfulness; none of your anxiety is quelled. 

"Once the deal is finalized, I will answer any and all of your questions," Yoongi adds as he gently tugs you close for a soft kiss, and you crack a smile against his lips. 

Whatever it is, it must be a big deal for Yoongi to want to wait to discuss, and you suppose that it is better this way, in the long run. Although you would like to be in on his plans, as well, you realize that you may not quite be there, yet. Perhaps it is time to finally have a conversation about the state of your relationship. 

"So, Hong Kong, and then what?" you ask.

Yoongi's eyes brighten, and his lips pull into a wide, gummy smile, setting your heart a little more at ease. 

"It's a surprise, darling," Yoongi responds, standing taller and placing a kiss against your temple. "Let's pick out some clothing for the trip."

With a nod, you smile and allow Yoongi to pull you into your closet, straight back to the formal and semi-formal dresses, while Namjoon begins to rummage around, choosing jewelry and shoes. Wherever you are going, it must be expensive, and you cannot wait.

Although you are not surprised to discover that Yoongi owns a private jet, you are still in awe as you enter the airplane cabin and look around. You have been in a couple commercial planes before, but none of them are sleek marvels of modern design, with black leather, gold, and mahogany interiors—following the theme of everything else Yoongi owns.

There are large, comfortable chairs—two rows of four with an aisle between pairs—and a couch against one side of the aisle facing a flat screen television on the other. Through an entrance past the seats, toward the back of the plane, there even appears to be a bed.

You take a step into the space, unsure what to do with yourself, and Yoongi places a hand on the small of your back and guides you forward enough to let Namjoon into the cabin. Staff members have taken your luggage, so you are empty-handed, and your arms hang down at your sides as you fidget along the edges of your long sleeves with your fingertips. 

"The first flight is about four hours," Yoongi informs as you make your way toward the couch. "Would you like to sit and watch through the window, watch a movie, lay down…"

As he trails off, you look around and decide that it would be nice to distract yourself during the first flight, so you mutter, "Watch a movie," while taking a seat on the couch and scooting into one corner, leaving room for the others to join you. 

"Do you have Scarface?" Namjoon asks with a shit-eating grin.

Yoongi gives you an incredulous smile before sitting beside you and slinging his arm over your shoulder as he grumbles, "I have every movie you could possibly want, Joonie. Put on fucking Scarface if it makes you happy."

"Doesn't he die at the end?" you ask with a frown.

"He does," Yoongi responds, pulling you close. "Are you hoping for something with a happier ending?"

Although you are merely discussing a movie, you find yourself picturing Yoongi as the ill-fated Tony Montana, feeling a swell of negative emotion as you attempt to keep your voice from trembling while muttering, "A h-happy ending once in a while would be nice."

Because sure, Yoongi may feel like the world is his while dressed like a Hollywood mob boss, and it is fun for Namjoon to tease him. But you know how those movies go. None of them end on a happy note, and in many of them, the boss is murdered, or they become so hardened by the lifestyle that they wind up dead inside. And the idea of either of those realities befalling Yoongi at such a young age makes you feel awful.

"We can watch one of my comfort films if you'd like," Namjoon offers, taking his place beside Yoongi and leaning over his lap to look at you with a soft smile. 

You return Namjoon's smile and nod, eager to find out what a man like him watches for comfort. You wonder if it is some silly action flick where a himbo with a heart of gold wins over the girl in the end, surprised when he grabs the remote, turns on the television, and searches for Howl's Moving Castle. 

"Don't you want to be in the middle?" Yoongi asks.

Without waiting for a response, Yoongi begins to stand, and Namjoon scoots over, giving you all the room you need to slide beside Namjoon and settle into his side as Yoongi sits and lifts your legs to rest over his thighs. You barely make it through the opening scene as sleep takes you, blinking heavily as Howl whisks Sophie off her feet to walk above the rooftops before you fall fast asleep.

As soon as you arrive to Hong Kong, you exit the plane and head straight to an older model red car that is long and boxy, leaving behind your luggage with the promise to return soon. Two men sit in the driver and passenger seats of the vehicle, and you and Yoongi clamber into the backseat on the passenger side, while Namjoon rounds the hood and gets in on the other side. The back seat is roomy, but you still feel trapped between broad shoulders as you fasten your seatbelt and settle back against the tan leather.

A man with a green buzzcut sits in the driver's seat, and beside him is a man with short, dark hair. Both men have cigarettes hanging from their lips, and the passenger rotates his torso to look back and give a lazy smile while the driver glances into the mirror and grins. There seems to be a tension in the air that melts the moment Yoongi gets settled.

"Min fucking Yoongi," the driver shouts, rotating to look back and glance at you and Namjoon, "Kim mother fucking Namjoon. What have you boys gotten into? And where are you taking this pretty thing?"

"Uiseok, Wonjin," Yoongi responds excitedly, leaning forward and jostling you into Namjoon as he reaches over your lap to low-five and fist-bump the two men. "Good to see you guys. Thanks for having us."

From your left, Namjoon wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently into his side, and Yoongi introduces you, making your cheeks warm as you lift a hand to greet the two of them. And then you are off, driving through neon-lit streets in the middle of the night. Some dreamy track plays on the radio, and both Uiseok and Wonjin bop their heads to the beat, muttering along. 

You glance through the windows, alternating between staring out the front and bending to look through the left, past Namjoon, and through the right, past Yoongi. The streets are bustling with a calm chaos of food stands and pedestrians while cars zip by and bicycles weave through the traffic, causing your heart to flutter excitedly. And then the scenery shifts and the excitement fades as you enter an area with far less traffic, swerving through housing projects with tall, dense apartment buildings.

When the car finally pulls up to a curb, you are surprised to find yourselves outside a diner on what looks like a deserted street. Yoongi gets out first, holding his hand out to you, so you unbuckle your seatbelt, feeling a surge of trepidation as the other three men stay in the car. You slide out and get onto your feet, then notice a woman inside the diner who stands from a booth directly on the other side of the tall glass window from where the two of you are, making her way to the nearby door to come outside.

"Darling, this is Sohee," Yoongi says as he gestures to the woman. She wears a dark mauve shirt untucked over brown pants and has long, somewhat wavy dark brown hair with soft, almost innocent features that curl bright and pretty when she smiles. "The boys and I are going to head to that building there—" Yoongi nods to a corner over your shoulder, to the left, and you turn to see what looks like a brick apartment building on the corner, "—to discuss a deal. We will meet you back here when we are done. Shouldn't take long."

Although you are not sure you feel too great about being dumped off with a stranger, you have no desire to argue. You have seen enough excitement lately, so if waiting at a diner in the middle of the night with this new woman is what Yoongi wants you to do, then you are content in doing so.

"Right this way," Sohee sing-songs in a voice that is surprisingly soft, taking your hand and tugging you toward the entrance to the diner. 

You glance back and catch a fond smile pulling at Yoongi's lips before he gets back into the car, which drives across the street and rounds the corner. And although you know it is irrational to feel nervous about being left behind as you watch the white and red car disappear, you can't help it.

"Hungry?" Sohee asks, pouting as you take your seat across from her. The booths are hard off-yellow lacquered wood with a white rectangular table in the center, lining the window and teal tile walls, and the space is more dimly lit than you would expect from a restaurant. The white penny tile floor is chipped in places, revealing concrete, and you do not see a single menu anywhere.

You have no idea if you are hungry, but you glance around the space, noting that you are the only two people here and that nobody appears to be out in the streets. Even from where you assume a kitchen may be, past a steel door behind Sohee, you hear nothing. It feels eerie and ominous, weighing over you heavily.

"Not really," you respond sheepishly, pulling your shoulders high around your ears.

"Nervous?"

You nod and glance around once more before making eye contact. Sohee smiles, and it is sweet enough to make you want to relax, but there is something playful in her eyes, making you think that she is in on a joke that you do not fully understand.

"They won't be long," she assures you, sitting back against the booth and crossing her arms over her chest.

You hum and nod, then stare out the window at the empty street. There is no use watching for the men to return; they could take anywhere from five minutes to an hour—god forbid longer. But it is hard not to be distracted by the empty corner around which they disappeared. At least all the men seem to be on friendly terms, assuaging your fear, if only a little. 

"How'd you get roped up with these guys?" Sohee asks, and you turn back to her, mouth agape. 

It occurs to you that you have never told the story before. Can you tell the story? Does this group know exactly what Yoongi does? They have to…right?

"I, uh…" you trail off, blinking heavily, unsure what to say. And then the absurdity of the situation hits you, and you start to laugh. It starts small—a chuckle working its way through your throat. But then you find yourself full-on laughing—closing your eyes and shaking your head as you sink back further into the booth as you attempt to catch your breath. 

Sohee lifts her brows, eager to hear what you have to say, and you swallow a lump and chuckle again, shaking your head some more. You suppose you could try to explain it without being explicit with the details.

"We met through a, uh…a mutual…" you trail off thinking about your ex-boyfriend, the spineless schmuck who sold you out for drug money. Good riddance, honestly. "A-and I just started going around him and the guys more, and…"

You can tell by the small, knowing smile that Sohee does not believe your story. Or, rather, that she knows it is bullshit, and that you are purposefully holding back all the actual details. She is polite enough not to say anything, at least. You laugh to yourself once more, giving up on continuing what you were saying.

It feels…odd…to be sitting in a public place with a stranger, having a plain, normal, everyday conversation. You had not realized how rare moments like these have been until it sinks in and settles over you like a blanket that is cool to the touch, not yet having had a chance to absorb your body heat. 

When your eyes move to the street once more, you see two people coming around the corner who are unfamiliar, but who are clearly walking in your direction and appear to be dressed the same way Sohee is, looking at you through the tall window. Fear spikes through you, setting every nerve on edge, and you tense up and turn to Sohee, feeling yourself tremble as you ask with wide eyes and shaking lips, "D-do you know th-those two?"

Sohee turns to glance over her shoulder and nods her chin at the men, winning her a nod in return. Then you see Namjoon, Yoongi, and the two men whose names you have already forgotten walk around the corner, making you relax. Yoongi has a smirk that you can identify even from this distance.

And then, to your surprise, Taehyung rounds the corner, walking with a long black trench coat over a three-piece suit and tie with the lapels of the jacket pulled up over his neck, followed by Jeongguk, who is dressed head to toe in black leather and denim. What on earth are they doing here?

All eight of them approach the restaurant, and one of the people who you had not met, a shorter person with shoulder-length dark, wavy hair and bangs hanging into their eyes, pops their head into the diner and smiles as they say, "Shall we go celebrate?"

When you look between them and Sohee, wondering what the person means by go celebrate, she laughs while gesturing around with her arm out. 

"There is no food or drink to be had here. This place is a front."

"Oh," you respond, feeling silly because of course it is a front; there is nothing on the windows or door to indicate that this place serves food at all. 

Everyone enters the diner and files through the tall steel door behind Sohee, and you stand to make your way to the group in time for the terror twins to enter the building. Yoongi and Namjoon give you a smile before following the others, and Jeongguk falls into step behind you as Taehyung drapes his arm over your shoulder in a surprising show of friendliness, leading the two of you into a kitchen.

On the far wall there is a stove, several metal countertops, and a tall steel fridge. Dishes are stacked on shelves, and there is a small pantry shelf with boxes that you imagine are either empty or full of expired food products, such as oils, sugars, and so on. 

The man with the green buzzcut walks to a tall, steel walk-in cooler door, pulls out a set of keys, and unlocks it. Then he pulls it open and enters through a curtain of thick vinyl strips, and everyone follows one after the other. You imagine that the giant cooler you are entering is not in operation, but you hug your arms around yourself a little tighter, grateful for the warmth of Taehyung at your side.  

"How was the flight here?" Taehyung asks, voice deep and soft, giving you a chill as he reaches out and parts the vinyl for you to walk through.

The room you enter looks like a walk-in cooler, for all intents and purposes, with metal racks along the left and right walls. But the cooling mechanism is shut off, leaving the dark room stiflingly humid, and straight ahead, there is a doorway, through which the group has already begun to walk. 

"It was good," you respond, "Yoongi's plane is nice."

Taehyung hums and gives you a squeeze before letting his arm fall from your shoulder, hand running down your back before his touch disappears entirely. "You should fly in mine sometime," he says before falling back a step and letting you continue through a much smaller doorway ahead. 

The narrow door leads into a short, narrow hallway, which opens into a large room that looks like something out of a movie. The carpeting is maroon and gold, much like what you might see in the hallway of a five-star hotel, and all the furnishings are red leather, dark wood, and gold. A garish crystal chandelier hangs over the room, and four large red couches surround a massive glass table in the center of the space. 

Gold and jade green sconces dot the walls, along with an eclectic array of paintings and tapestries hanging here and there, and spread throughout the space is a collection of furniture pieces, vases, statues, and other tchotchkes from various cultures, some seeming Korean and others less recognizable. You get the sense that this group of people is rather chaotic, and the fact that they seem to mesh well together while staying in a place with this level of organized anarchy just makes sense. 

Everyone kicks out of their shoes and boots and makes their way to the sofas while the two men you met earlier walk over to what looks like a bar on the far left wall. You take your place on the furthest couch from the door, with Yoongi and Namjoon to your left, and Jeongguk and Taehyung to your right. Sohee and the two you have not met sit on the couch to the left, and the two men you met earlier return, hugging bottles of champagne in each arm and carrying stacks of highball glasses. 

"I forgot the guys' names," you mutter, leaning toward Yoongi, who wraps an arm around your lower back and rubs his palm soothingly up your side. 

"Uiseok and Wonjin," Yoongi responds softly, nodding to the men who approach, jogging your memory. 

Uiseok is slim and muscular, with pretty, sleepy features, smiling lazily through squinted eyes, appearing to be a bit stoned, and Wonjin has soft but defined features, with full lips that hang in a bit of a frown, and expressive eyes that also appear bloodshot and squinted. Both men wear the same dark mauve shirt and brown pants as the others, giving you a bit of a cult vibe, and you make a mental note to ask Yoongi about it later.

Yoongi lifts his hand and points his palm toward the two on the left who you had not yet been introduced to as he says, "And this is Chanhee and Seungmin."

You follow the movement of Yoongi's hand as he points out the other two, who sit on either side of Sohee, and they wave as you tell them your name. The one with long hair hanging over their eyes is Seungmin, and Chanhee has his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, wearing wire-framed glasses over slightly elongated features. They both have light-colored button-ups tucked into dark slacks. 

As Uiseok and Wonjin pop open bottles of champagne, Yoongi leans forward to take glasses from the stacks, and sets them out around the table, in front of everyone. All but Jeongguk scoot forward in preparation for a toast, and you glance over your shoulder, checking to see whether he is paying attention. 

Jeongguk's expression is flat and his eyes are a bit glazed over as he stares ahead for several seconds before noticing you and meeting your gaze. He knits his brow and tilts his head slightly, and you interpret it as him asking what you want, so you lean back and shove your elbow into his leather-clad side until he grumbles softly and pushes you away. 

"What?" he mutters, and you lean back more to quietly ask, "What's the matter?"

With a shrug, Jeongguk mumbles, "Nothing," but his expression says otherwise, and you study him a few more seconds until he nods his chin to the glasses of champagne being poured. You concede to allowing Jeongguk to wallow in whatever is on his mind for now, resolved to press him for information in private later. 

"To the end of an era," Uiseok announces, taking you by surprise, and you turn to Yoongi, half expecting him to be displeased by what Uiseok says, but there is a wide smile on his face, pink gums on display as he reaches for a glass and holds it up. 

"Welcome to the family," Yoongi announces as he stands and holds his highball of champagne to the center, over the table. 

Everyone but Jeongguk follows suit immediately, and you reach for a glass and stand, holding it out while Yoongi leans back and instructs Jeongguk to get onto his feet and join the rest of you. Jeongguk clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, then lets out a sigh as he grabs the last glass, standing in such a rush that he bumps into you. 

"S-sorry," he grumbles as a hand brushes over your lower back and then disappears, leaving a chill in its wake. 

"It's fine," you respond, turning your head toward Jeongguk but keeping your eyes forward. Clearly, something is bothering him, and you are becoming increasingly eager to know what it is.

"We are very happy to join the team, and honored that you trust us with the operations," Wonjin adds. "We believe that we will make the Korean empire even stronger, and look forward to seeing more of you guys."

You mutter cheers along with the others, tap your glass against as many as you can realistically reach, and then you drink back the tangy-sweet liquid, letting the bubbles settle on your tongue. Everyone erupts into excited chatter, save for Jeongguk, who sits back down on the couch with a huff. You sit beside him, not really feeling social and already disinterested in the boom of conversation. Despite Yoongi welcoming them to the family, you still feel very kept in the dark about everything that is happening, and listening in on overlapping voices is only making you feel tired. 

Jeongguk pulls a metal vial from the inner breast pocket of his jacket and hands it to you, so you wedge your glass between your knees and unscrew the top, then sniff back two small piles of cocaine, one into each nostril. When you hand it back to Jeongguk, his gaze is on you, soft and contemplative. You cock your head and ask, "What?" but he just shakes his head, sits forward, and reaches a thumb to gently brush just below your nose before taking his drugs back and inhaling two small piles of his own. 

Feeling self-conscious about Jeongguk's gesture, you lift a hand to rub under your nose while your eyes drift down to your lap, catching a small chuckle that Jeongguk lets out, pulling your attention back to him. He gently shakes his head, then leans forward and mutters, "I wanna get out of here."

You also want to get out of here, and you nod your head, then glance around, unsure where you might go. Luckily, Jeongguk stands and asks, "Is there somewhere I can go to get some fresh air?" leading Uiseok to point to a door at the far end of the room. 

Jeongguk leads the way, making a pitstop to grab his boots, and you stand and tilt into Yoongi saying, "I'm going to join him, okay?"

"Of course," Yoongi responds with a smile, then he leans toward the table, picks up a half-empty bottle of champagne, and hands it to you. "Take this."

Yoongi's hair is still wavy, just like it was when it was wet, but with a little more volume now that it has dried. You want to run your fingers through it and give it a little tug but resist the urge and instead take the champagne, swerving back for your shoes and following Jeongguk through a red doorway and out into another narrow hallway. This one is at least carpeted and leads to other rooms, and on the far end, there is a metal door that goes out to a street-level brick balcony. 

The street is quiet when you and Jeongguk step out, and you glance around, taking in tall brick buildings that seem to be more or less abandoned. It certainly is the perfect spot for whatever this group of people does to operate while hiding in plain sight, you suppose. 

"Brought you this," you say, handing Jeongguk the champagne. He appears to have left his glass inside and drinks straight from the bottle before handing it back to you. 

You happened to bring your drink with you, so you chug back the rest of your glass and set it into a potted waist-height tree, nestling it into the dirt for safekeeping before taking a swig from the bottle and turning to Jeongguk. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and uses his lips to yank one out, then fishes out a zippo lighter from the same pocket and flicks it to life. Jeongguk frowns slightly as he lights the cigarette, taking a deep breath and holding it in as his head tilts back and his eyes close. 

"Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you?" you ask softly, testing the waters. 

Jeongguk lets out a huff of smoke and shrugs, keeping his gaze fixed on the street rather than looking at you. 

"Not really."

"Alright," you concede, not feeling particularly eager to push him. "Well, do you want to talk about anything? Or do you like to just sit and wallow in silence?"

This makes Jeongguk scoff, and he finally turns his gaze to you, reaching for the champagne, which you hand over after a little resistance. 

"And what would we talk about?" he asks with a sharp smirk.

You had not considered it before making the recommendation, and truth be told, you have no idea what the two of you would talk about. Does Jeongguk watch movies or listen to music? Does he have hobbies outside of his role within the family? What does he do in his spare time?

"Uh…" you try to think of something small to ease into getting to know one another and ask, "I don't know. Wh-what did you guys do on the flight here?"

Without breaking eye contact, Jeongguk says, "I snorted cocaine off Taehyung's dick and then he held me against the wall and fucked me."

Feeling somewhat stunned, you blink a few times and mutter, "Wh-what happens if the plane hits turbulence?" 

Jeongguk cracks a smile and takes a step closer, somewhat crowding your space and making your heart pound heavily. 

"While I'm snorting coke off his dick or while he's fucking me against the wall?"

"Ah-either way? I suppose?"

With a slight cock of his head, he says, "I guess in either instance, we end up making a mess."

"A mess?" you ask somewhat mindlessly, feeling your thought processes slow to a halt the closer Jeongguk gets. 

With an affirmative hum, Jeongguk advances, looming close while taking a drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke exit from the side of his mouth, as if being careful not to blow it in your face. His proximity makes your palms prickle, and you grip onto the champagne bottle, hugging it to your chest despite how dry your mouth is. A sweet, lightly floral scent blends with the smoke, feeling almost enticing in the way it surrounds you. 

"You're not shying away from me," he teases, and you glance back to find yourself cornered by a potted plant and brick on all sides. 

So you ask, "Where would I go?" in as much of a playful tone as you can muster, swallowing a lump when Jeongguk just shrugs and continues to advance, forcing you to take two steps backward until your heels hit the wall. Although your heart pounds, the high from the cocaine also calms you enough that you lean into the cold brick and attempt not to crumble under Jeongguk's intense, undivided attention.

Jeongguk is dreadfully pretty with his wavy dark hair growing past his ears. You wonder if he can pull it back into a ponytail, and what that must look like. There is a tiny mole under his bottom lip and a faint scar on his cheek, and you wonder if anyone presses soft kisses to those spots. You wonder if he would let you press a soft kiss to those spots.

And then, in a moment of clarity, you realize what is happening, and you lift a hand, place it on Jeongguk's chest, against the black tee he wears beneath the thick leather jacket, and you give him a firm shove, causing him to back up a couple steps. Jeongguk chuckles as he stumbles, and he reaches up to hold your hand in place on his chest, taking you by surprise as the warmth of his hand engulfs yours. 

You turn your head to the side so you can lift the bottle and take a long drink, then you hand it off to Jeongguk, who watches you with the same soft expression he had when you were sitting inside with everyone else. 

"What?" you challenge as he takes the champagne and has a drink, sloshing the diminishing liquid contents loudly inside. "Why do you look at me like that? What is on your mind? Is something on my face?"

Jeongguk laughs and squeezes your hand, then he drops his hand to his side and shakes his head. You take back the bottle but watch him for his response before having another drink. 

"You just seem much more relaxed," he finally says. "You don't look like a scared little dear anymore."

With a deep sigh, you drop your hand from Jeongguk's chest and lift one foot to anchor it against the brick wall. 

"What's with all of you and comparing me to animals? Deer, wolf, lamb, dove…"

"You're right," Jeongguk responds with a mischievous smile. "Buttercup suits you more."

"Oh, fuck off," you grumble, lifting your hand to shove at Jeongguk again. 

This time, he stumbles backward, clutching his chest while laughing, and you laugh along, tipping the bottle back to get the last of the champagne. Liquid nearly dribbles past your lips as you realize you underestimated how much was inside, and you pull the bottle away with barely any left, which Jeongguk swipes from you and finishes. Sheepishly, you wipe at the sides of your mouth using the back of your hand. 

Jeongguk flicks the rest of his barely smoked cigarette into the street and then looks out into the dark city with a hint of a frown. You follow his line of sight and stand in silence, letting the cool but humid night air settle to your bones. 

The street is scarce of life, with only overgrown plants taking over the sides of buildings, but nothing intentional or tended to with care. Whenever a small gust of wind picks up, you hear the sound of a metal sign creak and slam against a post, but otherwise, the only noise is the call of crickets. The night feels calm, and, to your surprise, being somewhere unfamiliar does not spark fear in your chest. Perhaps it is due, in part, to Jeongguk's company making you feel safe.

You are unsure how long you stand and stare out into the somewhat dilapidated urban sprawl of forgotten brick, concrete, and metal, but when Jeongguk speaks up, it takes you a bit by surprise. 

"Are you happy living in the mansion?" he asks, and you turn to stare at the side of his face for a moment, equal parts stunned and endeared by his consideration. 

You must take too long to respond, and he turns to you, fixing you with a curious gaze and making you feel put on the spot. 

"Yeah, I guess so," you mutter, feeling the urge to fidget with the ends of your shirt sleeves. "I'm getting used to it."

"That's good," Jeongguk responds as his gaze falls, and he peers out into the street again. "I guess."

Perhaps you should speak more positively about life at the mansion. You are getting used to it and becoming much closer to Yoongi and Namjoon. Despite the somewhat harrowing events that recently took place, you have not had the desire to run for the hills. You have considered it, but you have no idea where you would go; it seems your life belongs to the mansion, now. 

But the presence of another pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to find Taehyung peeking his head through the doorway, glancing between you and Jeongguk. His eyes are bloodshot, and his lips are pulled into a pretty, droopy smile. 

"Am I interrupting something?" he mumbles, and you shake your head while Jeongguk rolls his eyes, saying, "You wish, hyung," in a deep teasing tone that suddenly makes you feel like a third wheel. 

"We're gonna head out soon," Taehyung says, standing straight and resting his head against the door frame. "How do you feel about getting a suite and leaving in the morning?"

With a shrug, Jeongguk says, "Whatever you want," and although his expression does not give him away, his voice does—sweet and caring, willing to accommodate. 

"You and the doom boys are welcome to join us," Taehyung says as he turns his attention to you, waggling his eyebrows.

It is your turn to roll your eyes, and you almost question the silly nickname that you assume is meant for Yoongi and Namjoon, but Taehyung stands up straight and turns, walking back through the hallway before you have a chance to open your mouth. Jeongguk follows behind with the spent bottle of champagne in his grasp, and you grab your empty highball glass from the tree pot and follow, closing the door behind you. 

When you return to the main room, Yoongi is laying back against the red leather couch with his face tipped to the ceiling, laughing so hard at something that his eyes are screwed shut, and he holds onto his stomach. On the table before him is a mess of empty champagne bottles, open switchblades, and a pile of cocaine.

The stench of marijuana and tobacco fills the air, and everyone seems to be in a fit of laughter, muttering about something you cannot begin to parse. Namjoon notices your return and stands, announcing that the five of you are going to head out, and begins to hug everyone goodbye as the conversations fade and stop. 

It takes Yoongi a moment to get up, and he is still doubled over when he stands, sniffling while wiping at his bloodshot eyes. When he sees you and his smile widens, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. Yoongi is so beautiful, and in moments like this—when he can unabashedly be Min Yoongi, the ordinary person, and not some figurehead whose life is in danger—you think you could actually, fully, unequivocally love him.

"Ready, darling?" Yoongi asks, stumbling slightly as he approaches and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Ready when you are," you respond, keeping your arms to your sides because, although you are comfortable with the family men, showing affection with the audience of the others makes you uncomfortable. Yoongi does not seem to mind, holding just a moment longer before bending to slide into his boots.

You wave and bow goodbye to your hosts as the five of you exit the main room and walk through the narrow hallway, into the cooler. Taehyung is at the lead, and he opens the tall steel cooler door, holding it for everyone to walk through, then takes the rear while Jeongguk leads the group through the kitchen, into the diner. 

"We should probably sober up for the other flight," Namjoon suggests, and Yoongi hums in response from behind you while gently placing a hand on your hip. 

"We're getting a suite," Taehyung responds as the five of you walk out onto the street. "You're welcome to crash there until you are ready to go."

Despite feeling comfortable on the balcony earlier, walking out onto the mostly empty and unfamiliar street makes you tense up, and you look around as you go across to the other side, toward the corner everyone came around earlier, checking for vehicles and for people standing in windows. There is no sign of anyone around, but discomfort quakes through you as you wonder whether you are being watched or if the fear of being watched is just psyching you out to the point of paranoia. 

The conversation between the men is all but lost on you until Yoongi gives your side a squeeze and asks, "Darling?"

"Hmm?" you respond, glancing to the side as he tugs you closer. 

"Do you feel up to going back with them for a few hours?"

At this point, you just want to get off the street, and you are not overly concerned with where you wind up. So you say, "Sure," and give Yoongi a half smile, hoping it is enough to convince him that you are open to whatever they want to do. He does seem to be more intoxicated than you, although the champagne is beginning to catch up and make you feel a bit too light and also too heavy on your feet, swaying the world around you ever so slightly. 

When you round the corner, there is a large SUV sitting next to the white and red car that Uiseok drove, and the five of you clamber in, with Yoongi and Namjoon sandwiching you in the backseat while Taehyung sits in the passenger seat, and Jeongguk takes over driving. The vehicle is just like the ones the men drive back home, and memories of the other night—collisions and gunfire—come flooding back, causing nausea to stir in your guts. 

Jeongguk takes off while Taehyung thumbs around on his phone and then begins to give directions. You wonder if the place they plan to stay at is somewhere familiar to them, or if Taehyung found something spur of the moment. It only takes about fifteen minutes for you to reach your destination, and Jeongguk gets out first while Taehyung sits back in his seat and lets out a deep sigh. 

"He's gonna make sure our room is available," he mutters, which only raises more questions than it answers. 

Several minutes pass before Taehyung's phone dings. He groans as he tips his head forward to check the notification, then nods, says, "Let's get it," and opens his door to stumble out into the street. 

You, Yoongi, and Namjoon exit, while Jeongguk returns with a hotel staff member who climbs into the front seat, presumably to drive it into a parking stall. Jeongguk removes two tall black suitcases from the trunk and places a palm on each one as he leans slightly forward and steers them through the glass front door, which slides open to the left and right as he approaches. Yoongi wraps an arm around Taehyung's upper back to guide him, and Namjoon takes your hand in his as you follow a foot or so behind. 

"Remember this moment," Namjoon mutters, leaning close to your ear, "you will never see Taehyung this drunk again."

"What happened to him?" you ask, trying to imagine how much a person could possibly drink in the timeframe you were outside. 

With a deep, amused laugh, Namjoon says, "Knife game. Wonjin bet that Taehyung couldn't stab a knife between his fingers as fast as he could. The loser had to chug a full bottle of champagne."

You struggle to imagine Taehyung being so reckless, and you regret not getting to see it for yourself, smiling at the thought of cocky Taehyung failing to poke the tip of a blade quickly between each of his spread fingers in front of everyone. 

"So he got waisted, and he cut himself?" you ask.

"Yup! He nicked the side of his thumb!" Namjoon responds cheerfully, making you laugh. 

The five of you walk through a somewhat luxurious lobby full of potted plants and decorative rugs. But all you pay attention to is your own feet and the backs of the feet in front of you as you imagine Taehyung and Wonjin playing the knife game for a captive audience. Is this what mafia men do for fun? It seems childish, but somehow, you find it a bit endearing. 

As you all get into the large elevator, Jeongguk uses a keycard to access the top floor, and although you are getting used to the influence these men have, you are still a bit surprised that the room happened to be available. Taehyung did refer to it as their room; do they own it?

The elevator opens straight into the penthouse suite, which is furnished mostly white and tan, with light wood and silver accents, lit by simple, round overhead fixtures. The room itself is not too flashy, appearing somewhat lived in with a variety of plants that seem tended to, but bare of personal belongings like books or photographs. Taehyung kicks out of his untied boots and stumbles off to the right, and Jeongguk wheels the suitcases a few feet into the suite before releasing them, kicking out of his boots, and going over to the large white couch in the middle of the space. 

An enormous glass wall overlooks the neighborhood below, and you glance out from across the room to see lights shine from the streets, some belonging to cars passing by and others a more permanent glow. Shoes and boots are left behind as Namjoon and Yoongi make their way to the open-concept kitchen, which is just to the left, and begin to rummage around, seemingly pleased to find the fridge is stocked with baijiu. Unsure what to do, you approach the couch and stand behind it, resting against the back with your arms folded over your chest. 

Although you could keep drinking, you are unsure whether it would be in poor taste to go on when both hosts seem out of it—Taehyung having gone off to who-knows-where and Jeongguk sitting on the couch with his head tilted to the ceiling and his eyes closed. You wonder if whatever was bothering him before continues to weigh on his mind. 

"Jeonggukah," Namjoon calls, earning a groan from the youngest. "Come on, sooner or later, you need to speak your mind."

"Don't want to right now," Jeongguk grumbles, sounding petulant.

"Don't be like this, Jeongguk," Yoongi teases as he brings four small baijiu bottles from the kitchen and sets them on the wooden table in front of Jeongguk. "Handing over drug operations does not mean you are getting demoted. I just need you by my side more, and I can't have you getting distracted with petty shit."

"I liked my duties," Jeongguk grumbles quietly, mostly to himself, and suddenly, it all makes sense. The responsibilities of handling the drug operations must have been passed off to Uiseok and his team, leaving Jeongguk to feel like he is being replaced.

Yoongi takes a seat to Jeongguk's right, and Namjoon sits to Yoongi's right, leaving the space to Jeongguk's left open, so you round the couch and approach slowly, first sitting on the armrest because this feels like a conversation that you are unsure you should participate in. But Yoongi reaches over Jeongguk's lap and pats the couch, grumbling for you to get comfortable, so you slide to the cushion and sit with your legs angled toward the men. 

Namjoon busies himself with opening the bottles and sliding them along the table to everyone, and you glance between him and Yoongi before asking, "I thought the goal was to sober up."

"After this drink," he responds with a grin, instantly winning you over with his dimples. 

You are in no rush, with nowhere to go until you are told it is time to leave, so you nod and smile, conceding to another drink. The champagne has made you tipsy, but you are far from drunk, despite never getting fed. 

Deciding you are tired of Jeongguk being a somber lump, you lean and nudge him with your elbow, right into the ribs, causing him to lift his arm as if to swat you away, stopping mid-air with his hand raised and giving you a mock-threatening glare. He looks so adorable you break into laughter, nudging him more and more, tauntingly.

With a wide, incredulous stare, Jeongguk mutters, "Do you want to die?" and that sets you off, making you laugh so hard you double over practically onto his lap. 

Yoongi and Namjoon join in on the laughter, clearly only serving to frustrate Jeongguk more, who firmly but playfully takes you by the biceps with both hands and shoves you away, toward the corner of the couch, muttering under his breath.

Jeongguk's smoke-filled floral scent is intoxicating, and you find yourself falling momentarily pliant with his hands on you, sinking back into the white leather. But then he releases you, and you have the sudden urge once more to push all of his buttons. 

Luckily, Yoongi distracts you by handing you a bottle of baijiu, followed by Jeongguk handing you a vial of cocaine. You take a long swig from the bottle, pleased by its tangy umami blend of citrus and floral notes, then you bend and reach forward to set it on the table and begin to unscrew the vial. 

Taking two tiny piles of white powder into your nose should not feel so good. Perhaps it is the way the lingering flavor of the baijiu fills your senses, or you have grown accustomed to the bitterness of the coke, but as soon as it hits your sinuses and begins to trickle down your throat, you feel alive, tingling with exhilaration from head to toe. 

When Jeongguk takes the vial back, his fingers engulf yours before sliding away, and you hold your breath, scared to gasp, or worse, exhale while letting out a sound. It was not long ago that Jeongguk's very presence was an annoyance, and here he is, affecting you in a way you had not expected.

Perhaps it was better when he was determined to be mean. Then again, with the way you behaved toward him in the mansion the other day, bringing up his noona kink to tease him in front of the others, can you really blame him for wanting to taunt you—if that is what he is doing.

Your heart races so hard, you bend once more, reaching for your baijiu to take a drink. Suddenly, your throat feels so dry again. Suddenly, the chill glass of the bottle feels cold against your fingertips, causing you to shiver as you settle back and take a drink. You wonder how long you are going to be at this suite and whether or not Namjoon meant it when he said you would sober up after this bottle, or if their plans are so loose that literally anything could happen.

To make matters worse, Taehyung comes into the room, still with a bit of a wobble, but much more cognizant than he had been moments before. He appears to have quickly showered, and wears only a pair of grey sweatpants, squeezing his wet hair with a white towel as he surveys the scene before him with a lazy smile.  

"Not doing anything without me, I hope?" he teases, words drawling lazily. 

"Just cocaine and baijiu," Namjoon supplies in a chipper, golden retriever fashion that makes your heart flutter. 

"I thought I heard giggling," Taehyung adds as he rounds the couch and sits on the arm to your left, effectively caging you in between himself and the others. 

Jeongguk hums and leans into you, knocking your shoulder and causing you to nearly crash into Taehyung's hip. You feel completely thrown off your axis as you wobble, wondering if the baijiu is having a profound enough effect on you to actually make you drunk or if it is caused by Jeongguk's change in demeanor.

"Buttercup was causing trouble," Jeongguk teases, making you gasp and turn to him, affronted.

"I—wh—you!" you stammer, unable to find the words to express just how much it was Jeongguk causing the trouble while you were merely a bystander—a lie, but one you are willing to defend with your honor.

"It was both of them," Yoongi says, leaning forward to make playful eye contact and effectively finding himself at the very top of your shit list. 

You fix Yoongi with your best serious gaze, muttering, "How…very…dare you," as you attempt to ignore Jeongguk's eyes burning into you the way that they do.

"The tension between them is palpable," Namjoon teases, making you gasp and flounder around syllables that never come because Yoongi adds, "You two should just kiss already," causing every hair on your body to stand up.

"Very funny," you say at the same time Jeongguk whines, "Hyungs, please," under his breath, sounding embarrassed.

With a heavy, defeated sigh, you chug back the rest of your baijiu, wiping your lips off with the back of your hand as you lean forward and place the empty down with a hollow thunk. You need to exit this suite before you wind up doing something stupid.

"Well, I finished my drink," you announce, staring at Namjoon, "so I suppose we can go, now!"

"But we still have our drinks," Yoongi pouts, holding up a bottle that is more than half full. 

Taehyung's voice is deep and far too steady for how inebriated he seems as he asks, "Why are you in such a rush, buttercup?" and you turn to find him practically draped over the arm of the couch, leaning with his elbow anchored on the backrest, propping his head up. 

The alcohol and cocaine combination makes you bold enough to face the elephant in the room, and you clear your throat before saying, "Probably because the four of you are menaces and for the sake of my sanity, I need to get the fuck out of here."

"Interesting," Yoongi drawls, and you turn to him with a pointed stare as you ask, "What?"

"Jeonggukie has the power to drive you insane," Yoongi responds without missing a beat, lips curling the way they always do when he is being particularly devious. "Why don't we explore this?"

You stare at Yoongi in a long silence, finally turning to Jeongguk only when the tension feels too thick to ignore. He gazes at you with that familiar soft expression, and you swallow a lump that has gathered in your throat.

"What are your thoughts?" you ask him before you can think better of it.

Jeongguk seems stunned by the question, staring unblinkingly for several seconds before blinking rapidly as if coming out of a trance. Then he licks his lips, and, like an idiot, you follow the movement. The way Jeongguk smiles tells you he noticed you looking, and suddenly, his sweet expression is replaced by a cocky one.

"Why?" he asks, tilting his head and making a show of looking down at your lips and back up. "You thinking about kissing me, or something?"

If he weren't such a brat, perhaps you would be willing to admit to the truth, but with this attitude, you scoff and roll your eyes, muttering, "You wish," under your breath.

"Find out," Jeongguk challenges, taking you by surprise.

You begin to ask, "What?" but he cuts you off, leaning forward until your lips are less than a foot apart. 

"Make your move, buttercup. Find out just how badly I wish you would kiss me."

When you glance over at Yoongi and Namjoon, they both have eager smiles, watching with their lips parted in concentration. Jeongguk's eyes seem to stay on you—or if they stray, it is too fast for you to notice—and you lean forward, challenging his resolve.

"Now why would I do something like that?" you ask, noticing the way Jeongguk's brow and lips quirk. The movement is slight, but you recognize it as frustration. 

Jeongguk is clearly not used to this kind of provocation, and it seems to be bothering him that you are not immediately willing to cave. This is the second time in a couple of days that you have pushed his buttons, but this time, he does not seem inclined to storm away. 

Slowly, Jeongguk lifts a hand, reaching just below your chin, but stopping before making contact. The warmth from his skin feels electric—like a charge zipping through the air and connecting the two of you. You concede just enough to lean into the touch, allowing Jeongguk's fingertips to graze your cheek, causing his pupils to dilate. 

With the warmth of Jeongguk's gentle contact, you feel emboldened, and you tilt your head to the side just enough to brush your lips over the heel of his hand, hearing as his breath catches in his throat.

"As much as I enjoy our banter, I am growing a little weary," you mutter, lips dragging over his palm before you return his hand to your cheek. "It's fine if you don't want to kiss me; I won't be offended. But if you really do want to kiss me, then just do it already."

Jeongguk's eyes widen, and you think for a split moment that he might back off and call it a night. But then he uses his fingertips against your cheek to guide you toward him, meeting in the middle until his lips are against yours and he is swallowing your gasp whole. 

It comes as no surprise that Jeongguk instantly nips and sucks at your lip, slowly but with enough force that it has you whimpering and dropping your mouth open wide. Wasting no time, Jeongguk licks into your mouth, groaning deeply and forcing a gasp from you as tangy baijiu and stinky cigarette smoke coat your tongue in an enticing tangle.

Despite how languid his movements are, there is an eagerness behind each of them, filling your mouth with his tongue until your lips are stretched wide before teasing your bottom lip with his teeth, alternating in fluid, dizzying motions. Arousal shimmers through your bloodstream like glitter, and you lift your hands to grip onto his leather jacket to hold him close, keeping your mouth open for him to use and explore, swallowing his soft groans and whines. 

Kissing Jeongguk feels cathartic somehow—as if the months of bickering and tension have been washed away, and all that is left is the two of you sitting open and raw and ready to be vulnerable with one another. Although the thought of it absolutely terrifies you, it also thrills you, and you whimper against his mouth, feeling yourself completely slip from any semblance of control you thought you might have been able to hold onto. 

Now that you have had a taste of Jeongguk, will it be enough? Or will you need to satiate a greater hunger? You are not sure that you are ready for it, just yet.

With a gasp, you break the kiss, tilting your chin downward, doing your best to steady your frantic heart. You tip your head forward just long enough to press a soft kiss against the mole beneath his lip, then lean your forehead against his. Jeongguk chases after your lips before seemingly coming to his senses and backing off, but staying close by, forehead still resting gently against yours.

Suddenly, you are exhausted. The weight of everything that has culminated to get to this point feels heavy and thick, and you find yourself succumbing quickly to its whim. 

"Sorry," you mutter, unable to fight the urge to apologize. "I feel really tired. I think we should stop."

Jeongguk nods his head, swallowing visibly, and you are unsure whether you detect disappointment, or if he is simply tired, as well. 

"We have two rooms," Taehyung offers softly, and suddenly, you remember that there are three other men who have been watching everything. 

Warmth floods your cheeks, and you release Jeongguk's jacket, dropping your hands to your lap as you nod and say, "Thanks, Tae."

Everyone seems frozen in place, waiting for someone to make the first move, so you do it, turning away from Jeongguk and scooting to the edge of the couch before standing on shaking legs and glancing around, unsure where to go. 

Yoongi gets the hint and stands, nodding toward the wall directly behind you as he says, "That way," so you nod and turn, walking several steps in that direction before rethinking your decision to just run away from the situation at hand. At the very least, you should say something. 

"Thanks for letting us stay," you begin, giving Taehyung a bow of your head and a smile before locking eyes with Jeongguk. "And thanks for…that…for finally doing that. We should talk about it later, but...it was nice."

You feel somewhat embarrassed by your inability to just say the words you want to say, but decide it is enough; you are tired. So you turn toward the bedroom and walk in that direction, not bothering to switch on any lights as sleep claws at every edge of you, dragging you down, down, down. 

In a last-ditch effort to get comfortable, and since your suitcase is still tucked away on Yoongi's plane, you get undressed in the dark room and climb into bed wearing only your underwear. The blanket is cool to the touch, and you shiver as you scoot into the center and cover yourself completely, waiting for the others to join. It does not take long, but you are already half asleep when warm arms engulf you in the form of familiar limbs on either side. You hope that tonight, you do not have any nightmares.

Someday, what I need Someday, what I dream 우리의 청춘이 진한 술 같으니 our youth is like strong liquor 달콤함이여 sweetness 오 독기여 oh, poison 붉은 피 같은 술 내려주소서 please serve me a red-blooded drink 우리의 청춘이 진한 술 같으니 our youth is like strong liquor

마셔라 쭉쭉 술이 들어가 drink it up, alcohol comes in 파워업 다 드루와 bitch don't kill my vibe power up, come on, bitch down kill my vibe

🎵 visit the playlist!

they kissssseddddd!!!! i know some of you are going to kill me for only making them kiss, but, listen: i like to build tension. and make you cry a little, too.

at the end of the last chapter, a lot of people asked after Jimin! he's off living his best life, so don't stress! he is not the kind of character to join the others in a gunfight, so having him there didn't seem right. we will see him again, soon!

shout out to Yoongi for the Haegeum video & photos! i was worried i would have to photoshop that scar onto a more recent photo in a few chapters, and he did all the work for me...😈😈😈

stream sos by balming tiger! thanks, bye!

tag list: @afangirllikeme-blog @angel-121 @artgukk @btsiguess-kpop @bts-ficreviews @che-er-ful @codeinebelle @curryshesus @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @fringe-frank @illnevertrustmyselfagain @jalexad @kissme-ornot @leanimal90 @likeshatteredrainbowglass @m1sss1mp​ @mayeolorie @mgthecat @mushroom-main @mwitsmejk @openup-yourmind @pamzn @sleepilysworld @stocking221 @spookyminyunki​ @thelilbutifulthings @valhallawhispers 🗡️ comment or dm to be added!

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. Don’t be a silent reader!

#yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi mafia #yoongi crime boss #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts mafia #bts poly #bts angst #namgi #fic: collateral #Spotify

[ladyartemesia]

I really admire the self-restraint of the ARMY who took this picture because I would have just ripped it off the wall and ran

#that crop top be leading me right into a life of crime #Jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts memes #bts meme

[demonshauntingthedoves]

Crime of Passion [kinktober special]

Crime of Passion : A murder committed in the heat of moment without aiming to actually do it. In other words, to kill a partner under a strong emotional impulse during sex.

Summary : They say it's done in the "heat of passion" without a clear intent to truly commit the crime. And you did it too. Only you did strongly intent and prepared to do it.

Pairing : Husband!jungkook x female reader

Genre : Erotica, Eventual Yandere!

Warnings : Sexual and Yandere themes, dom!fc, dom!jk, lot of edgeplay, blowjob, use of aphrodisiacs, penetrative sex, praising kink, spanking, nipple play, infidelity, murder, torture, fc is crazy at the end but smart to (witch laugh).

WordCount : 1980+

With a pop you let go of his dick.You leaned back panting heavily and looked up at Jungkook through your long lashes. You rubbed the corners of your mouth with the back of your gloved hand, wiping the remaining beads of cum you failed to swallow. A sultry grin bloomed on your face as you glided your hands up his thighs again whilst batting your kitten-like-eyes at your husband who was sprawled out on the leather couch. From your bent position, you kissed the way up his knee and thigh and then quickly pecked the swollen head of his cock which still begged for your attention despite receiving full treatment of warm mouth moments ago.

“Don’t tease me! Just get over here and get it done with!" Jungkook hissed at the sensation. His hooded eyes raking your cleavage as your chemise hung low over your chest.

You rolled your eyes but crawled on him and licked a strip up his throat like a starved kitten. He threw his head back and let out a heavy puff of smoke from the thick cigar in his hand. You dragged your wet plump lips over his Adam's apple which bobbed, feeling your hips grind on him.

"Ahh!..Jungkook." You gasped and purred when you felt your core painfully ghosting over his cockhead which was ready to slide in.

“Don’t torture me, Y/n. Just let me in!” He growled lazily and smacked your ass. 

But you wanted to prolong this moment as long as possible. You didn’t take so much effort just to rush everything.You wanted to make it slow and sensual, almost transcendental.

Your barely covered skin glowed in the golden glaze of the scented candles. The low tune of vinile drowned in the melodies of your moans and his groans as you humped on him. You didn't let him enter you. You wanted to edge him. You rolled your ass sexily and bit hard on your lower lip feeling the rough fabric of his trousers; which you had pulled open in haste; scratch your inner thighs due to continuous friction. 

Your hand slid up into his lustrous hair like a quiet snake and pulled his head to dive in a kiss which turned desperate when he leaned in. Loud smooches and smacks echoed in the dimly lit room. He grabbed your lace cladded ass and smacked it, then he dug his fingers through them to reach your core. You gasped and hid your head in the croon of his sweaty neck. You kissed the mole on his honey skin and moaned loudly in his ear when he pinched your labia.  

“Now you see Y/n, hmm? Dont play with me!” His rum-tinged breath send tingles down your ear.  

You sighed and abruptly stood up. His brows furrowed when he didn't feel you doing what he said and opened his hazy eyes wide.You were just standing there with your hands on your hips. He enamored at the glory of you adorned in a deep burgundy coloured lingerie. Your honey skin glimmered through the dark berry chemise as your ears shimmered with the purple diamonds. Your baby hair was tucked out of your lazily tied bun and your round breast heaved up and down. And the gloves, he absolutely loved when you played the princess. Your tiny hands tucked in the velvet gloves. You could kill with that look.

You were a rare jewel, the black rose in the colourful ones. You were a temptress. His temptress.

 “Fuck sweet thing! You look drop dead gorgeous. Gonna kill me?!!” 

 "Hmm, I might be plotting" You playfully muttered.

It was times like this, when he knew you wished to take the lead. He could feel the exhilaration when you had aggressively pulled his collar and pushed him on the couch just to give him the best blowjob of his life. You wanted to have it your way. And he absolutely loved it. He might as well let you.

But not now when you looked like a goddess he wanted to worship. He couldn't keep his hands to himself. He needed to ravage this fierce beauty of yours. So he pulled you by your hips and cupped your chin to slam his hungry mouth to yours. 

His desperate hands traced every curve and crevice of your body.He picked you up and placed you on the bed whilst he undid the buttons of his floral shirt. By that time, you were already on your hands and knees, offering the perfect sight of your perked up ass on the edge of the bed. Like this, he could easily plummet his cock inside you but what is the fun in that.

He'd like to play the edging game as well.

 He harshly tore away the lace near your core and bowed down to latch on your pussy from behind. His fingers dug in your plush skin of your buttcheeks and smacked them while his tongue ravaged your dripping rose. The staccato of your ohs and ahs echoed around the four poster bed as he had your delicacy. 

"You have the sweetest rose I've ever tasted." 

You smirked in satisfaction that the viagra you had slipped in his rum was kicking in. But the moment you started to tremble, he stopped his ministration, only to climb on top of you and remove the rest of lace covering your shining skin. 

You buried your face in the silk sheets when you felt his cockhead nugging at your hole. A pleasure induced moan slipped out of you as he thrusted all the way in one go. The rest of your pleas were muffled as he jackhammered into you. Your body jerked forward with every swift move of his hips pistoning into you.

"So good for me, Y/n, o-oh my goddess!!"

The sheets were wet with amount of your drool leaving your gasping mouth. He was really fucking you good and sexy. You let him take his time, take all the time he had left.

Just when you thought he was about to cum, you crawled away from under him as he grunted loudly. You turned around pushing the hair that stuck your sticky forehead.

 "It's my game. I started it and might as well finish it." You said between your panting.

Your fierce eyes pierced through his blown out once. He surrendered to you.

As you busied yourself to remove his shirt and pants completely. He slapped your pussy out of frustration and pumped his fingers into you out of anticipation.

He bare back hit the mattress as you straddled him. You didn't miss a beat between settling on his erect length and rolling on him tortuously slow. 

"You're going to be the death of me,Y/n"

He growled looking at your naked figure on top of him. You hair messily fell down and draped on your chest.The only chlothing remaining on you were the gloves which rested on his buffed chest for support. You looked so pretty only in them. But he could still fell the edges of your sharp nails through the velvet gloves as you hopped on him. It was then, that you could get your words out.

"O-ohh, am I?!! Tell me you'd die for this pussy?!!" 

You asked him as you slided all your hair back, revealing your nipples to him.

"No question, I'd die for it. For you!!!"

He fingers reached up to touch and twik your nipples. Your breath staggered from the pleasure booster as you began to bounce on his cock. 

"So you'll die for me, right?"

Your hand clutched the thick column of his neck testing his waters. You pressed on his throat firmly as you felt your high approaching.

"Yes - f-fuck-ing -yes!!!" Jungkook stuttered and held your wrist with one hand and pinched your clit with the other.

You moves faltered and became sloppy as you glared at the fucked out face of Jungkook.

"So if you die, you'd be pleased to die with the sight of me on your cock, right? You'd want nobody but me ??!!"

Something flashed in Jungkook's hazy eyes as he grasped your hipbones tightly and titered,

"Ofcourse, sweet thing. Why would I want anybody but you?"

Liar

You tightened your grip on his throat as you rolled your ass on his abdomen.

And on queue, he started to thrust up in you, as if to prove his point or distract you from yours. You gasped in surprise and leaned forward on his chest. It took some more thrust for you to come undone.

You trembling body fell on him. His nose brushed yours, as you both stared in each other's eyes. Weary breaths feathering your faces. Your face softened as you looked at his loved filled eyes. But you could always see through the curtains of feign-what truly hid behind them.

You leaned back and resumed your movements. Your one hand still intact on his neck. You thought and thought twice.

His eyes fluttered to the cinnabar mole on the side of your chin.

Jungkook groaned again close to the edge. You touched the taunting cinnabar mole with the other hand. And smiled at the realisation.

So just because she had the exact same mole as you, he considered fucking her.

She was a washer brought to you. A poor but starry eyed girl. Her coily hair smelled of oakwood and detergents. That was the second thing you had noticed about her. The first thing was her mole which mirrored yours. You had smiled and welcomed her impressed by that only one feature of hers.

You should have known that you wouldn't be the only one to be impressed by that one feature of hers.

Your intuitions were gnawing at you the one time you'd sniffed the scent of oakwood coming from not only his clothes but his skin.

You were suspicious for days until one day you went into his study to offer him tea, only to be greeted by the smell of soaps.

But nothing phased you more than the instance when you caught her sniffing his clothes from the pile in hamper.

It unnerved you -the fact that they were romanticising behind your back but what devastated you was- the fact they thought you were stupid enough to not know and not do anything.

It wasn't much to fault the poor girl, she had her little piece of torture. You only scrubbed her eyes with the detergent and made sure she would never be able to see the morning sun again. She didn't know what were you capable of.

But that couldn't be quite said about your beloved husband. He knew what a fierce woman you were. If one span of your hips could make men fall on your toes, then one snap of your knife could make their heads fall too. And maybe he forget that.

You'd would love to remind him that for once and all.

"Nobody but me. But why do I feel you forgot that for some time now, hmm?"

Jungkook stiffened under you as you gyrated your hips on his. His aroused face turned into one of fright.

"W-what are you talking about Y/n?"

His hand caught yours which was heavily pressing on his pulse.

"So you would love to die with me on your cock, wouldn't you?" You asked him again.

When you looked at him with darkened feline eyes, Jungkook's face fell. He shivered from overstimulation and culpability.

"You said it would be your last wish!!!" Jungkook saw the crazy glint capture your eyes. You weren't playing anymore. This wasn't just a game anymore.

You placed your other hand on his throat and enveloped them tightly in a chockhold. After overcoming from shock and conflict, Jungkook clenched his jaw and tried to swat your hands away but failed due the lack of control he had in the daze of alcohol. His body was going numb. He couldn't even utter a word.

"Then die!!" You shouted at his face.

You pressed your thumb on pulse and strangled him. You chocked him with all your might.

It felt cathartic to punish him for his wrongdoings. He dared to betray you. Only to receive back all your bubbled up wrath and frustration like this.

He tried to undo your hands but nothing could stop you.

You breathe in.

His face went a deep shade of crimson. You could feel the loud throb of his pulse. You were there.

Until you no longer felt his pulse and his face unshed of all colours and went pale. You were done.

You breathe out.

You got up and wrapped yourself in the silk robe. You plopped down on the couch and took a hit from the cigar he threw. You puffed out dancing clouds of smoke looking at your dead husband. You gave him quite a lovely departure in the peach tapestries of silk you specially decorated for this occasion. Quite a heavenly departure for a person who ought to go to hell.

You slid the gloves out your hands and threw them in the fireplace. No one would doubt you now with no fingerprints. And even if anyone did, you'd simply cover it up under the Crime Of Passion.

A/N : Phew! Wanted to write something for this Kinktober and came up with this. I didn't actually select a single kink while writing this. But there's a tiny buffet of some common kinks. This story takes 360° turn from smut to murder.

#kinktober #yandere oc #jungkook x reader #darkfiction #dark bts #bts fanfiction #btsyandere #jeon jungkook #crime of passion #jungkok #jungkook x you #bts x fem!reader #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts #bts x oc #jungkook imagine #bts imagines

[colormepurplex2]

Chasing Shadows | JJK

▻ Chasing Shadows ↳  Jungkook x f.Reader ⤜ Modern Day Sherlock Holmes AU ⤜ Best Friends Brother/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 21,511 ⤜ Summary: Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PIs around.

With more at stake than ever before, what lengths will you go to in order to connect the dots and catch the bad guy?

⚠️ Death threats, breaking and entering, descriptions of violence, stalker behavior, talk of crime/criminals, oral f receiving, vaginal fingering, protected sex, nipple play, dirty talk, imagery that reflects choking but isn’t, guns, lots of foul language, scare tactics, talk of car accident from drunk driving, minor injury, mention of blood/wound, allusion to mild depression/self-reflection

Chapter 1: Cat & Mouse

Chapter 2: Hide & Seek

Chapter 3: Pause & Relax

Chapter 4: Crime & Punishment

This story is complete.

Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ 2022 “Christmas Love” Secret Santa Writing Event. Written for @hisunshiine 💜 A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @jessikahathaway​ for beta’ing, keeping me on track, and helping make this come to life \(0^◇^0)/

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Master List ©️      2022    ColorMePurplex2  

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts au #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #sherlock holmes au #sherlock holmes jungkook #bts friends to lovers #bts best friends brother au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook has a dirty mouth #bts crime au #bts thriller au #bangtanwhq

[rocarynart]

If this can no longer resonate, no longer make my heart vibrate Then like this may be how I die my first death. But what if that moment's right now? Right now? Black Swan by BTS

“a dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful.” ~Martha Graham~

#bts #jungkook #jimin #suga #taehyung #namjoon #Its a crime that Spotify doesnt have an official copy of the orchestral version #bts army #there is so much i love about this song and the music video #you havent lived until youve heard the black swan to fake love transition #kpop #2025 cant be here soon enough #I miss you Joon :(

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble preview

pairing: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

(set in 1529)

From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

#at 7k rn! only the smut left😛 #bts au #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #without context i should specify it's not an actual crime scene #you just murdered tae lol

[gmfio-art]

♡ CRIME SCENE psd coloring by © gmfioART

FREE for personal use. // Gratuito para uso pessoal.

Don’t redistribute or claim as your own. // Não reposte, copie ou divulgue como seu.

Download ♡ DA.

#moodboard #crime scene #yellow #jeon jungkook #jungkook #police #psd #coloring #icons #photoshop #aesthetic #resources #police moodboard #crime moodboard #dark #filter #psd coloring #coloring psd #effect #photoshop effect #photoshop psd #photoshop resources #aesthetic moodboard #aesthetic psd #texture #grunge #style #gmfioart

[amygdalagustd]

I do really think that as a fandom we should learn to let people like and dislike things in peace

#bts #jungkook #and that's all I'm gonna say about that #disliking a song is not a crime! #and when one person dislikes something it doesn't mean you aren't allowed to like it #and visa versa #which we could have some more nuance 💜

[mimikoolover]

if being a jikooker is part of organised crime then sign me the fuck up lol I love being a criminal!

#apparently accepting the fact that #jikook are close #equals to a crime #🤣🤣🤣 #imagine saying this when jungkook decided to enlist with jimin #a whole circus

[darkangelhome]

Its a Taekook thing ♥

#taekook #BTS #Vkook #Kim Taehyung #V #bts v #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #love is mutual #partner in crimes

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 32: Gifted...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Mentions of Arson/Fire/Anxiety Attacks/Death of Main Characters/Murder/Adult Language/Sexual Activity/Stalking/Cancer/Loss of Parent/Ghosts/Explicit Smut/Ejaculation/Oral Sex/Nipple Play/Death of Main Characters/Unprotected Sex/Hate Crime/Blackouts/Orgy/Mention of Gun/Breath Play

*Warnings are for entire work; not chapter specific*

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3789

*FLASHBACK*

"Didn't I tell you that you drink too much?"

My mother eyes me as I'm pouring my nightcap.

"Mom, you make me sound like an alcoholic. Even my doctor says a glass of red wine a day is good for the heart."

"Well, whatever, I just worry about you. You need to make an appointment with your doctor, just for a check up."

Clean. That's the best way I can describe my mother's scent that creeps into my nose as I hug her from behind, placing my glass on the counter next to the sink, making sure to handle her frail frame gently.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll call in the morning. AND, I'll do a cleanse, just for you, okay. No alcohol for a month," I concede, resting my cheek on her shoulder.

"Don't do it for me, do it for yourself. I know your liver is screaming for a break and more water."

"Dang, ma!"

Our laughter fills the kitchen just as my sister enters the house.

"Sis, come get your mama," I acknowledge Jasmine as she's placing her keys on the hook, then removing her shoes and purse.

"No, come get your wino of a sister," Mommy quips.

"All I heard was wine. Gimme some!"

Mom's jaw drops as Jasmine's coming around the corner, causing us girls to erupt in laughter.

"You heifers get on my nerves together. T, don't play around with your health and call the doctor's office first thing because it'll be hard to get someone after lunch. Ask them to do a urinalysis. Jas, wash your dishes if you decide to eat dinner. I made the sausage, gravy, and rice you guys love."

"Deh," we say in unison as Mommy, in passing, tucks a clump of Jas's curls behind her ear with one hand and grabs my cheeks with the other. She calls over her shoulder as she's ascending the stairs.

"Also, y'all need to avoid taking the interstate in the morning. And don't be in here doing all that cackling, you know I have another round of chemo tomorrow."

It wasn't uncommon for mom to warn us of things or worry over us. Yes, most mother's want to try to protect their children, but this goes beyond that. Our grandmother had the same gift that is said to be bestowed upon the women of our family by age 30, having skipped me as I'm already 34. With this gift, Mom and Granny had a history of predicting things in our lives and shielding us from danger. Not that she considers herself a psychic or anything, Mom just has 'a feeling' sometimes. She would alert us of dangers and things yet to happen in regular conversation, like there was nothing odd about it. And she could always read us like a book.

"Tia."

On my way to my room, I stop abruptly in front of my mother's bedroom door when I hear her calling for me.

"Ma'am?"

Sitting propped up on a mountain of pillows, she puts her book on the bed and motions for me to move closer. I already know the drill as her hands are extended, so I go to stand next to the bed, leaning over for her to hold my face in her hands. She first looks into my eyes, shifting from one to the other. It's almost as if she's looking through me. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath in through her nose and releases it through her mouth.

"I just wanted to check in on you again. Don't be too worried about your doctor's visit. It's not anything life threatening but you do need to get checked out."

"Will I need to get a shot or something? Medicine?"

"Probably just medicine. You'll be okay," she reassures me then opens her eyes. "I've been meaning to ask you, do you still have those dreams?"

Even without the details, I know exactly what she is talking about. The dreams that feature the same seven men, guiding, helping, and comforting me as I sleep. I'm curious as to why she's brought this up even though she asks every few years.

"Yes, ma'am...I had another one a couple of days ago. Why?"

"No reason, really, I just thought about it. You are gifted, Tia, and I, honestly, believe those men are assigned to you, to keep you safe. Just know that if you ever encounter some sort of danger, your love will protect you."

"My Love? Like my man? And gifted? I'm already years past thirty so if I was gifted, it would have shown by now."

"I'm not quite sure, T. I just see you experiencing new beginnings... fate... home... seven... death... love... purple... fire... hate... rebirth." Her brow furrows and she closes her eyes again, tilting her head ever so slightly before she continues to speak.

"Ma, wha-?"

"Shh..."

Whenever she gets like this, something big is coming. She can never tell us when, but she definitely gets us prepared for what's to come.

"Something will come after you, or has come...something dark and spiteful. There will be a fire, or there has been a fire?" She quickly releases me, fanning her hands as if she'd been burned. She just looks at me but I can't read her expression as it's a mixture of worry and confusion with a hint of fear. "Baby, you've always been a tough nut to crack, since the day I brought you into this world. Sometimes, I can't tell if you're coming or going but you are something special, the universe knows that. You're going to experience a great loss, or you already have? I don't know, Tia, but you will have your happily ever after."

"Okay, well, I'm not scared at all," I tease sarcastically.

"And you shouldn't be. No weapons formed against you shall prosper," mom begins to pray over me ending it with an 'amen'.

"Amen. Well, I'd better get to bed, too. Are we still getting pancakes before your appointment?"

I love getting on her nerves, joking and picking with her to make her laugh. Maybe that's my toxic trait, resorting to humor to not focus on the seriousness of situations.

"I wish! We can stop to get you some but unfortunately, I'll only be having a small, bland meal before."

"Boooooooo! No, I'm kidding. You know I'm going to eat what you eat...let's suffer together."

"Girl, goodnight. Get outta my room with your silly self. And, try to stop stressing so much. Even the Lord needed seven days to create heaven and earth." She catches what she just said and can't help but to laugh at herself. "Seven... the number of completion."

I chuckle lightly before stepping towards the door.

"Yes, ma'am. Night night."

*PRESENT DAY*

Another POV

"Please, try to be quiet when you're sweeping this room as someone is sleeping," Jungkook advises and the technician nods, his plush lips curving up at the corners.

The door opens slowly, allowing the beautiful young man to enter the space. He seems to float around the area, gracefully running his device across every surface. Jungkook can't seem to peel his eyes off of the young man as he steps past him, making his way to the armchair near the bed. Having not left Tia's side for more than a few minutes since she was discharged from the hospital this morning, he takes her hand before sitting in the chair he'd drug to her bedside. He and Taehyung have decided that one of them should be with her at all times and Jungkook takes this opportunity to stare at her sleeping features, barely noticing the man now standing next to him.

"A real life Sleeping Beauty, huh?"

Jungkook meets his eyes, "Yea, she is beautiful, isn't she?" Looking back to Tia, and kissing the back of her hand before he continues, "I could just stare at her like this all day."

"I see why! My goodness, she is breathtaking." Hoping to not cross the line, he asks, "Will she be okay?"

Glancing up to him again, Jungkook could have sworn he had tears in his eyes. "Y-yea...she'll be okay, she just needs to rest and stay hydrated." Just as the technician is about to speak again, Tia's phone vibrates. Snatching it from the nightstand before the sound can wake Tia, Jungkook takes the phone answering it as he walks out of the bedroom.

The young man, as if enchanted, keeps his eye on her sleeping face. Her smooth, golden brown skin seems to glow, her lips full with a slight sheen, he is drawn to touch her. Tia's eyebrows scrunch and she moans lowly, giving the man an excuse to rush to her side. After quickly placing his equipment on the floor, he takes her hand into his.

What the fuck am I doing?

He can't deny the pull he feels but knows that he has free will, being able to walk away whenever he wants. But he doesn't want to. Like Jungkook said a moment ago, he could stare at her all day long.

"Jimin!" A voice whisper shouts from the bathroom.

He drops her hand and turns on the spot to face his colleague.

"Shh!" He tries to hush the man before he wakes Tia, but is unsuccessful.

"Who are you," the small voice asks from behind him. Jimin looks around to see Tia staring back at him.

"Hey, sorry to have woken you up. We're here to sweep the house for any hidden cameras or listening devices."

"Where is JK?"

"JK?" As Jimin is asking her, Jungkook returns with some fruit and water.

"Hey, babe, I'm here. I'm glad to see you up. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess. I'm a bit groggy and my head is banging."

"John said you'll probably feel that way for a few hours. He said that you'll probably be lethargic, too, and to call if you need something for nausea. Your memories may come back all at once or in spurts, but try to not stress yourself out. Here...take this," he hands Tia a couple of red and white tablets, "Hopefully, this will help with your headache."

She takes the pills, and washes them down with the water. Jimin doesn't realize he's stuck in place, watching this interaction between the two until Tia speaks, looking directly at him. He sees her mouth moving but doesn't hear what she says. He jerks himself out of his trance and says, "Ah, sorry, what was that?", asking Tia to repeat her question.

"I said what's your name?"

"Oh, Jimin...Park Jimin."

"Nice to meet you. Was that you holding my hand a minute ago?"

He's blushing red and rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed, having been caught. Nodding his head, he admits his actions.

"I'm sorry...you just looked so beautiful, and you were moaning, and your brows were tense. I didn't know if you were having a bad dream or if you were hurting. I'm sorry, I just felt compelled to comfort you. Forgive me if I overstepped-"

"We are so sorry, ma'am. We'll just finish searching this area, then we'll be out of your hair," the other man cuts Jimin off to apologize.

Unintentionally ignoring the other man, Tia's focus remains on Jimin.

"Thank you...Jimin. You didn't overstep at all," Tia shows her gratitude and the way his name falls from her lips is intoxicating.

Jungkook's POV

Thankfully, Tia slept through the entire process of getting her discharged and home. I don't think I would have been able to stand the void look of confusion in her eyes or her staring at me like a stranger. Not again. Thankfully, I'm off duty during the day today and get to spend it caring for Tia. Taehyung will be back after he takes care of some things at the office and, luckily, he's the owner of the business, so he'll be able to take a few days off to be here as well.

Tia is still sleeping when I answer the door for the technicians to come in and sweep the house. There's something about one of the men that causes my heart to race when he's near. I feel an immediate connection to him, almost like a long lost brother. Unable to tear my eyes from him, I watch as he practically dances around Tia's room, something so elegant in his movements. The only thing that can take my attention from him is Tia's peaceful features and I have a seat to further take them in.

As we converse briefly, I swear that I see tears in his eyes and I can't help but to wonder if he's possibly experiencing the same attraction to her as me and Taehyung. As I open my mouth to ask, Tia's phone vibrates across the bedside table and I quickly grab it before it wakes her. I rush out of the room to answer the call.

'Hello? Tia?'

"Hey, Brandon. Tia is unavailable at the moment."

'Oh, my bad. You must be her boyfriend. Hey man, I was just calling to check on her after hearing about what happened. I got called to the police station to give a statement about a past employee.'

"Yea, I appreciate you checking in on her. She's past the critical part and is home resting now. Would you like to leave a message for her?"

'Yeah...yeah. Could you tell her...tell her that I'm so sorry for what happened and what she had to go through. I fired him shortly after we started on her reno. After I had caught him doing some suspicious things, but I should have said something or reported him, I don't know. Like I said, he was suspicious but I had no proof of anything. I didn't know what else to do but to let him go.'

Of course I already know the details of this case but I listen anyway, making my way down to the kitchen.

'I'm not innocent in all of this as I was inappropriate at times and said some things about her when she wasn't around, but it was just locker room talk, you know? Men being men. I promise, I never meant for anything bad to happen to her.'

"Look man, I get what you're saying but making sexual jokes and references about a woman is not locker room talk. You being a dick and acting spiteful because Tia rejected you is more accurate. Men being men? Don't ever generalize your behavior as a 'man' thing. I'm nothing like you because real men don't do shit like that. I'll give her your little message, and you can go ahead and delete her number, bro. There's nothing else for you to talk to her about."

I end the call and slide her phone into my back pocket before rummaging through the fridge for something light for her to eat and some water, thinking of John's recommendations. In one of the cabinets, I find a bottle of Tylenol and take a few in case she has a headache before I go back upstairs.

Tia's POV

I'm in between sleep and consciousness when visuals flood my mind. I can't tell if I'm dreaming or not, and my heart breaks seeing Jungkook and Grey cry. What happened? Am I dead? There's a warmth that suddenly covers me like a warm blanket, and I feel a sense of peace. Is it coming from the person holding my hand? Is it Jungkook? Taehyung? Whoever it is, they give off the same comfort as them.

When I open my eyes, I'm still not sure if I'm dreaming when I see a man standing next to my bed, his back to me, strong yet beautiful. Mom taught my sister and I to trust our gut, that our intuition would never steer us wrong, so even though I can't see his face, I feel comfortable as my body is reacting as if I know him. He feels familiar. The sharpness of his jaw line is the first thing I notice as he's turning to face me, followed by his pillowy lips and breathtaking features. I swear, my heart skips a beat when his eyes meet mine.

When Jungkook walks in, my mind wanders as we're talking, unable to take my eyes off of the unknown man. I can recall bits and pieces of what happened last night and I know that I had to go to the hospital, but the details are vague. He starts telling me about what John had said regarding my recovery but stops to trace my line of vision, meeting the man standing a few feet away.

"Who are you?"

Jimin...again, I feel like I've said his name a million times. So, it was him radiating the same energy as the other two.

"Thank you, Jimin," is all I can give him at the moment and with a forced smile reassure him that he's not overstepping my boundaries.

Jungkook offers me some of the fruit he brought up but I don't have much of an appetite at the moment, and I can feel my headache getting worse by the minute. Not even 10 minutes later am I in the fetal position on the bed, awaiting the moment my skull splits in half. Thankfully the other technician has finished the sweep in here and is outside in the work van. I think there's something vulnerable about suffering and I didn't want him to see me this way but I'm comfortable with Jungkook...and Jimin. Fragmented memories are swirling through my mind, searching to land on their specific string of experience.

"Oh my God, baby...I'm so sorry," I say between tears, unsure if I'm crying because of the searing headache, the visual of my loved ones sad because of me, or both.

"Shh...it's okay, baby. I know. I know you didn't mean it."

Jungkook is kneeling next to the bed, kissing the back of my hand and rubbing my butt, trying to console me. Being that my eyes are closed tight, I don't see when Jimin comes over to kneel next to him.

"May I?"

Assuming he got the go ahead from Jungkook, I almost melt when his hands caress my scalp and firm circles rub across my temples. This doesn't alleviate the pain completely but it's definitely relaxing. This in combination with the booty rubs calms me enough that I end up falling asleep.

"Jagiya, wake up, love...you need to eat something."

I awaken to Taehyung's gorgeous face and I'm enthralled but unable to show it much as I'm still in pain. It has subsided a ton, but is definitely lingering.

"Hi, Tae. Are you done with work?"

He still blushes and gives me that boxy smile whenever I call him by his nickname. He is so fucking cute.

"Yeah, I just had to speak to a few customers and move some appointments around. How are you feeling?"

"I feel like shit but not as shit as earlier. I missed you."

"I missed you more, and I'm glad you feel less shit."

"Also, I'm so sorry about last night."

"No need to apologize...we know it was the medicine making you like that. Here, sit up. I brought soup. Koo told me you haven't eaten much."

I'm able to sit up and have a few spoonfuls of the soup, the rich warm broth heats me from within. After taking more medicine, I scoot over to make room for Taehyung to lay with me, and bump into a sleeping Jungkook. Thankfully, I don't wake him but it does cause him to stir, he grabs my hips, pulling me to lay flush to him. With hushed voices, Taehyung and I converse with our foreheads together.

"So?" He questions me, wearing a knowing smirk, my thumb grazing over the slight stubble along his cheek.

"So? So, what?" I'm genuinely confused.

"Jimin?"

I pull away for a moment to fully search his features for any indication of anger or jealousy... nothing. He only smiles and wiggles his eyebrows at me. So he and Jungkook talked while I was sleeping.

I snicker and playfully cover his smile with my palm and say, "Yeah? What about him?"

"Koo told me about you guys giving each other 'bedroom eyes'."

"No one was giving anyone any kind of eyes. I mean... he was handsome and sweet."

"Yea, that's not the way Koo described him. He said he was fine as fuck and looked like he was sent from heaven, on some Keyshia Cole type shit."

We burst into silent laughter, trying not to disturb Jungkook as he has to work tonight.

"Oh my God! Stop, stop, stop...my head hurts," I whisper yell to him, still wheezing.

"Oh shit...my bad. I read somewhere that an orgasm will help relieve headaches," Taehyung apologizes while still smiling and rubbing my head with his thumb, his comment only causes us to laugh more. Once we finally settle down, he kisses my forehead and asks, "Bath time?"

"Ummm," I agree, never turning down a bath, nuzzling my face into his shirt. The scent of his cologne makes me clench my thighs in an attempt to cease the throbbing. Bitch, you could have died just yesterday and you're thinking about fucking?! I allow Taehyung to assist me from the bed to the bathroom, struggling to fight against the weakness and lightheadedness. He holds my arm firmly as I step into the empty tub, sitting me down slowly.

"Lay back and try to relax a bit," Taehyung advises as he starts the water, adjusting it until he finds the perfect temperature. I move my hair to drape over the lip of the tub before I lay back. Leaving briefly, he comes back to sit behind my head. I'm assuming he went to get a hair tie as he's now collecting my strands to put them in a bun atop my head.

I'm practically drooling when his hands leave my hair and begin to massage my neck. Applying firm pressure, using water as lubrication to slip from the base of my neck up into my nape. With his thumb still rubbing circles in my hair, his free hand is massaging my shoulder. My eyes close on their own, moans flowing from my nostrils.

"You like that, huh?"

"Uh huh," I nasally respond, allowing my head to rest against his palm.

Noticing that the water is now covering my breasts, Taehyung pauses his massage to turn the water off, coming back to start where he left off.

"Have you spoken to Koo about the suspect they arrested last night?"

"I haven't but I know that's a conversation that needs to happen. Since I've slept most of the day, I don't think he's had the chance to bring it up."

"How are you feeling about all of this, like, now that he's been caught?"

"Honestly, I feel free and light. I feel like I can exist without having to look over my shoulder, you know? But, mostly, I'm just glad he wasn't able to hurt me or the people that I love."

Taehyung gently moves my head to the other side to massage my other shoulder. I open my eyes as I hear the bathroom door opening to see a groggy Jungkook coming in, hair a mess atop his head.

"Hey, Sleepyhead! Did you sleep well?"

A/N:

Thanks so much to @moonleeai for beta reading this chapter! 💜

#bangtanwhq #joonslfttiddie #ambw #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoesok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #arson #hate crime #reverse harem #haunted house #reincarnated lovers #black protagonist #black original character

[lauraperfectinsanity]

#A MASTERPIECE #The low number of streams on Spotify of this song should be considered a crime #Come Back Home #BTS #THOSE SEVEN 💜 #THEY'RE FREAKING PHENOMENAL PERFORMERS #HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THEM? #LOOK HOW FUCKING GORGEOUS THEY ARE #Kim Namjoon #RM #Kim Seokjin #Jin #Min Yoongi #Suga #Jung Hoseok #J-Hope #Park Jimin #Kim Taehyung #V #Jeon Jungkook #THE COOLEST KIDS IN THE WORLD #TOO MUCH TALENT #freaking gorgeous guys #Bangtan Sonyeondan #Bangtan Boys #방탄소년단 #THE HUMBLE KINGS

[colormepurplex2]

Chasing Shadows | Cat & Mouse

↳  Jungkook x f.Reader ⤜ Best Friends Brother/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 5,989 ⚠️ death threats, breaking and entering, stalker behavior, references to crime and violence

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to chapter list

“Another one?” you mumble to yourself as you twist your key and lock your door, heading out for work. Attached to the front of your door with a small sliver of clear tape is a dirty, brown napkin. There’s a grease stain on one corner and small spatters across the bottom edge. A red logo is distorted by the smear, but you can just make out that it says Rosey’s Place.

You grab a tissue from your bag and snatch the napkin down. Turning it over, you suck in a stilted breath. A crude drawing is etched in red and black ink across it. Though it’s a poorly executed image, you can clearly see it’s a cat eating a mouse. Very juvenile, but no less macabre. It’s offensive enough on its own, but add it with the other two scraps of trash with similar drawings on them that you’ve received over the last few days, and it has the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end.

It could just be some punk-ass kids playing a joke. But, in your line of work, you’re a bit more paranoid even when it comes to seemingly innocuous coincidences or harmless pranks. Criminal journalism is in your blood, but it also comes with an ingrained sense of overbearing self-preservation. Better to be cautious than be a victim. You write dark, yet wholly real, pieces on some of the largest crime heads in the world. Your articles aren’t exactly glamorous and flattering; you have plenty of potential enemies.

Sighing, you shake your head and wrap the tissue around the napkin and tuck it away into your bag for now. You’re heading into the office and the few extra minutes it would take to get back into your apartment and do something with the napkin are precious minutes you desperately need to grab a coffee.

Despite your own sense of self-awareness, you still aren’t always able to brush off that little bit of disbelief. Which is why you find yourself pulling out your phone and dialing your best friend.

“A call before eight in the morning, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

You smile and hit the button for the lobby in the elevator. “Hey, E. I wanted to run something by you. If you have a moment?” Being on the third floor, your ride down doesn’t take long.

She hums thoughtfully. “Always got time for you, babe. Lay it on me.”

“First, promise you won’t freak out?” you lower your voice as you make your way across the lobby and pass Henry at the front desk. He throws a hand up in greeting and you nod, giving him a small smile.

There is silence on the line for a moment. You know she’s having her own internal struggle not to instantly react to that preface. “You realize saying that only makes me want to freak out before I even know what you’re going to ask of me, right?” she finally says.

“Yeah, but, it’s not really all that big of a deal. At least, I don’t think so. That’s what I’m getting your opinion on, actually, determining if it is something that I should be freaking out about,” you explain with a shrug even though she can’t see you.

There’s a hint of suspicion in her voice as she responds, “I can’t promise that I won’t freak out. But, I’ll try to keep my head about it.”

“This morning as I was leaving, I found a crude drawing on a diner napkin taped to my door. This is the third drawing like this that I’ve gotten. It could just be some kids in the building being assholes, but I don’t know. What do you think? Nothing or…” you trail off, hoping you don’t sound completely paranoid.

“I see,” she sighs. “Well, what kind of drawings are we talking about here?”

You hesitate to reveal the truth, knowing it could potentially set her off. Maybe that’s the answer you need anyway, if you’re too hesitant to even tell her because you’re worried how she’ll react then it’s probably something you should be worried about. You called her because you value her opinion, both professionally and as your best friend. 

“The first was from a ripped-up fast food bag, it had a hawk eating a rabbit on it. The second was a matchbook with a spider catching a fly. This last is on a greasy diner napkin and has a cat eating a mouse. All black and red ink, very crude and elementary, bordering on stick figures but still plain enough to determine what they are.”

 A colorful swear comes down the line. “You expect me not to freak out? Babe, that’s straight out of weirdo stalker 101. My protective momma bear instincts are kicking in. I swear, if this somehow leads back to your damn job, I’m going to force you to quit. That fucking website gets you into way more trouble than my job ever has me.”

“Enola, you’re an FBI profiler. I’m just a journalist. That’s like comparing apples and oranges. You definitely take the cake in the trouble department. Don’t jump the gun here, it’s probably just nothing.” You hate to admit she has a point, though. You’ve found yourself in some rather unnerving situations over the years due to the nature of your job. But, she’s the one who actively seeks out the crazies with guns and intent to harm; surely, that means her job has more trouble. Though at least she also has a gun to point back at the crazies…you’re just armed with a laptop and the can of mace at the bottom of your bag.

Enola gives a soft, humorless laugh. “Let’s not start this conversation again. My opinion is that it’s something you need to be cautious about. I insist on you getting a door cam or something like I told you to months ago. Have you told Detective Jung about this?”

“My building has security. Henry would have mentioned if there was something weird going on, someone suspicious or out of place in the building. Which is all the more reason why I think it’s just kids being punks. It’s probably Ms. Abernathy’s kids, Cody and Riley. You know how much shit they get into around here. Just last week they flooded the basement trying to film some TikTok video. And, I did tell Hoseok,”—you emphasize his name—,” about it after the second one and he said that unfortunately there isn’t much that can be done over a few pieces of trash being taped to my door.”

She laughs again and you can practically hear her eye roll. “On a first-name basis with that asshole now? That’s a conversation we’ll have another time, I promise you that. Shit. Hey, look, I gotta go. I’m being summoned for a meeting with Director Connor. More than likely I’m going to be heading out on assignment soon, otherwise, I’d come over myself and we’d look into this together. What I am going to do, though, is text my brother your number. He’ll give you a hand and if it so happens to not be some kids in the building, he has the resources to take it seriously and get you the help the police refuse to provide.”

You consider refusing her brother’s help. You haven’t seen nor talked to him since you were teenagers and don’t want to impose on his life. But, you know it’ll be easier to just accept and placate Enola for the time being. “Thanks, E, you’re the best.” Your office building comes into view as you round the corner. The coffee shop you want to stop in is just across the street. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Hey, wait,” she stops you before you can hang up. “Listen, please be careful, okay? I know you don’t think it’s anything serious; but just, please, for me?”

The sincerity in her voice breaks down your walls a little. “Yeah, of course, always. I promise.”

Enola says goodbye and assures her brother will be reaching out to you sometime later today. The cafe isn’t very busy so you manage to get a coffee and make it into the office before most of your coworkers arrive.

Working for a major news outlet, specifically doing the criminal and justice spread, is everything you ever wanted in a career. Growing up, you devoured mystery and thriller novels which quickly developed into a love for true crime and murder mystery as an adult. You love watching true crime documentaries and listening to various crime podcasts.

Some of your closest friends work in adjacent fields. Like Enola being an FBI profiler and Hoseok being a detective with the local PD. They have a history together, which is why Enola is hard-pressed to show as little respect to Hoseok as possible right now. You can’t really blame her, he was a total ass. But, he’s really good at his job and you know he’d help you in any capacity that he could, if he could. The police department is just limited in what they really can do and the resources they can expend for a situation like yours.

Setting your coffee down on your desk, you settle into your chair and pull out your laptop from your bag. You tuck your bag into the bottom drawer of your desk and lock it before sliding the small key ring into your pant pocket.

“Morning, boss!” Taehyung, one of your coworkers, calls as he enters the office. You’re still getting used to that title— boss. It’s only something you recently acquired. Your last big exposé earned you a promotion to team lead editor. You’re now in charge of the entire crime and justice branch of The Scarlet Informant, totaling just under a dozen people.

You waggle your fingers around your cup at him as you take a sip from your coffee. “Morning, Tae, how was your evening?” Building rapport and a bond with your team was priority number one for you. Despite working with these same people for years already, you feel like you could be making more of an effort, especially now as their boss.

He slides into his chair and hides a yawn behind a fist. “Mmm, it was good. I had a meeting with a new lead for my Marshal story. I think I really might have something special.” Taehyung crosses his fingers and does a little shoulder shimmy in his chair. His black polo and navy slacks complement his slim frame. You catch the glint of a silver watch on his wrist. Taehyung, you’ve come to learn, has an extensive collection of watches, wearing a different one every day. “Is this what it felt like for you when you landed that key info on Nauvez? I still can’t believe your article ultimately led to his arrest. That’s like, the epitome of badassery.”

The tight smile that pulls at your lips feels weird. When you first published the shadow piece on Nauvez you had no idea it would actually help the LAPD track him down and make the arrest. You lucked out on putting together some breadcrumbs, talking to the right people, and somehow connected dots the police hadn’t. That’s how you ended up with your promotion; just pure luck, though everyone swears you deserve it regardless and you’re being far too humble.

You honestly don’t mind the promotion and intend to do your best no matter what. Your only fear is that you’ll grow to resent it. The last thing you want to be is stuck in a job you hate. Writing is your passion, your main hope is that you’re able to continue writing even when delegating to others. So far, it’s worked out fine.

“That’s wonderful. Just be sure to vet your sources thoroughly. We don’t do maybe’s or possibly’s, nothing but definitive reporting. Taking on a new source is its own balancing act. If it wasn’t for my resources, that Nauvez piece wouldn’t have been nearly as impactful.” You’re a firm believer in doing things the right way. No cutting corners or taking the easy way around a story. It’s important for people to get the facts, false information and the grey areas of crime reporting are extremely dangerous.

Taehyung laughs. “Wouldn’t dream of disappointing you like that. We have that meeting with Rigby later, right?”

“That’s right. It’s after the editor meeting. He wants to discuss the projections for next quarter. There’s also the new newsletter format he wants to roll out that needs some tweaking. I imagine Paris will have something to say about that,” you mutter, more to yourself than Taehyung. Paris is the office mean girl. She’s the team lead editor for the fashion and pop-culture columns. If she wasn’t so good at her job, you’re certain Rigby would have canned her by now.

“Good morning, fellow Scarleters!” The nasally pitch of Paris’ voice echoes down the hall as she prances through the office commons. “I grabbed bagels on my way in this morning, from that cute vegan spot on Seventh.” Her fiery red curls appear in the doorway to your team's office before her face does. “Hi, sweeties!”

You internally cringe at the saccharinity dripping from her words. “Morning, Paris,” you try to suppress the sigh in your tone.

“Hey,” Taehyung offers with a half-hearted wave toward the door. His desk is on the far side of the room, facing the large windows overlooking the cityscape.

Paris drops a white paper bag onto the corner of your desk. “Enjoy!” You nod in thanks, turning back to your laptop to make sure you’re prepared for the morning meeting. Long, red-lacquered nails tap against the top of your laptop screen. Paris leans in when you look up at her with a raised eyebrow. “I made sure to get the low-fat bagel option for you.” She says it with an overly sweet smile on her face. “Us girls gotta look out for each other, right?” Her eyes flick over what she can see of your body above your desk before sweeping out of your office space.

You’re still trying to reign in your desire to shove the low-fat bagel down her throat when Taehyung makes a disgruntled sound from behind you. “One day she’s going to get punched in her fake lips and I sincerely hope you’re the one that does it.”

That makes you laugh. The sudden mirth instantly puts you at ease. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

The rest of your office files in over the next few minutes and the space quickly fills with soft chatter and clacking keystrokes as everyone adds last-minute touches to their reports.

You quickly forget about Paris and her disgusting attitude. At least, until you’re heading toward the conference room and she falls into step beside you. 

“You must be so concerned for Kat, huh?” she feigns a sad pout. But her words throw you off.

“Kat?”

As if the exaggeratedly appalled look on her face wasn’t enough, she flourishes a hand and presses it to her chest dramatically. “You know, Kat that works in your department. It’s terrible what’s going on with her brother. I can’t imagine having to put a loved one in a full-time care facility.”

Right. You had noticed she hadn’t made it into the office yet and had intended to check in but time got away from you. She asked a week ago to have the morning off for personal reasons today, which you granted. But, this is news to you. You didn’t know she was having to put her brother in a care facility, or that she even had a brother, to begin with. That is if Paris is even telling the truth; it wouldn’t be the first rumor she’s started in the office. Kat’s one of the few people in your department that has been a bit more reserved when it comes to opening up and bonding with you in your new position. So, for all you know it could be true, even coming from Paris.

“Right,” you mutter hoping she drops the need to spout gossip, especially considering it concerns one of yours and a situation you know nothing about.

She doesn’t stop, though, tacking on a very distasteful comment. “Paralyzed from the waist down, apparently. Poor guy probably can’t even get— Oh!” Paris staggers hard to the right, her shoulder smacking into the wall as you continue down the hall. “What the hell!?” she calls after you.

“Sorry, you were walking a little too close I guess. Hope I didn’t scuff your shoe,” you toss back, not giving her the satisfaction of looking at her while she huffs behind you.

You suppress a smile as you enter the conference room, Paris hot on your heels. “These are five hundred dollar shoes,” she hisses as she passes you to take her seat on the other side of the long table. Her pea-soup-colored eyes bore into you once she settles into her chair. You mouth ‘sorry’ and shrug a shoulder then turn and give Rigby, who’s seated at the far end of the table, your full attention.

“Good morning, everyone, let’s begin with our plans for next quarter.” Rigby pulls his wire-framed glasses down off the top of his head and onto the bridge of his nose. His close-shorn black hair is peppered with silver and his grey suit is fashionable but not flashy. He’s a great boss and you easily get lost in the conversation and ease of making plans for the next quarter.

By the time your editor meeting is over, it’s time for your team meeting. Rigby sticks around for it, listening in and giving his input as he sees fit. You welcome his direction, knowing he’s been working in the journalism and publishing field for at least as long as you’ve been alive. He’s the main reason The Scarlet Informant is as successful as it is.

As the meeting comes to a close, you impart a few words of advice for your team and dismiss everyone back to their respective desks. As Taehyung passes you, heading to the door, you pat his shoulder. “Hey, just a moment, if you will.”

He turns his brilliant smile on you. “What’s up, boss?”

“You’re pretty close with Kat, aren’t you?”

Taehyung bobs his head from side to side in a so-so fashion. “I guess. As much as two coworkers can be close. We don’t hang out outside of work, though. She’s quite shy and reserved. Total sweetheart, though. Why?”

“Paris mentioned something to me earlier on the way to our editor meeting. Do you think Kat would mind if I asked her about it?”

His smile slips. “Paris can’t keep her mouth shut can she? Kat’s a private person, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you asked her. She’s only told me a little bit about what’s going on. That red-headed she-devil probably was eavesdropping again.”

That would be classic Paris, putting her too-perfect-thanks-to-dr-whoever’s nose where it doesn’t belong. You make a mental note to approach Kat about it when she makes it into the office later; in hopes of getting ahead of gossip that might make Kat, being the private person she is, uncomfortable.

It’s a few hours later when you notice Kat slipping into the office. She keeps her head down, her mousy brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head and her horn-rim glasses barely staying on her nose. The muted orange cardigan she has on over a pale yellow floral dress looks vintage, especially paired with her toffee-colored loafers and white socks with lace trim. Kat has always reminded you of a librarian or maybe someone who runs an antique shop, quirky and soft in a cute way.

“Hey, Kat,” you chirp, trying to come off as light-hearted as possible as you approach her desk. “Did everything go okay this morning?”

Her large brown eyes drift up from the folder open on her desk. There is a moment where you’re certain you see a sliver of something resembling fear there but it’s gone before you can be certain. “It was fine.” She swallows hard, averting her eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” You’re not sure how to broach the subject, so you just go for it. “I heard something earlier, someone mentioned a potential reason you were needing the time off.” You pause, seeing if she’ll react to you mentioning gossip about her, but she just glances up at you from beneath her lashes. “I just want you to know that if you need additional time, I can work with your schedule. Family is important and I want to make sure you have everything you need in any way that I can.”

Her thin lips form into a soft smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” you’re quick to assure. Taking care of your team is your number one priority. Plus, you’re big on a good work-life balance. So, if Kat needs time away to take care of her family, you’ll make sure Rigby has no reason to complain. “If you need anything, just let me know. Okay?”

Kat hums, rolling her lips between her teeth before nodding. She directs her attention back to the folder in her hand. “The Handler files, I’m just going over them again,” she says in a way that feels like she’s dismissing you. You can only imagine the morning she’s had, so you don’t push or question further.

“Right. Good luck with that, I’m sure you’ll find anything that may have been missed.” You rap your knuckles lightly on her desk before heading back to your own.

Getting lost in the demand of work helps with your own morning troubles. The greasy napkin in your bag is long forgotten. It’s not until you’re pulling your laptop out at home that you catch sight of it at the bottom of your bag. The text you got earlier from Enola’s brother still sits on your phone, unread.

You pull the wadded-up tissue and napkin out of your bag and set it on your dining table. The other two items you stashed away in your office. At first, you had tossed the fast food bag scrap in the trash. It wasn’t until you found the matchbook that you dug it back out and put them both away to think over at a later time.

Now seems like as good a time as any. Pocketing your phone, you head down the hallway to your office. It doubles as a guest room with a fold-out sofa bed. The space is cozy with your large L-shaped oak desk tucked into a corner so the window of the room sits just above the far edge of the desk.

You’ve been in here so many times you could navigate it in the dark, but you slap a hand on the light switch out of habit. The overhead light floods the room, the scene it reveals stopping you in your tracks.

“What the fuck?!”

One hand clutches the front of your shirt, and the other braces you against the wall as you stagger back. Your eyes flick over the far wall above the sofa, that’s now ripped to shreds; bits of fluff and fabric are scattered over the floor. There are black and white photos taped to the wall, some small and some as large as a movie poster. There are several words spray painted on the wall. Most prominent of all, though, is the ‘NO COPS’ in bright red right in the center.

As you take tentative steps closer, you make out some of the smaller photos. They’re all mostly candid shots, taken from a distance, of you, your family, and your friends. You recognize Enola, your parents, Detective Jung, and even some of your co-workers. The largest photo, centered on the wall, is a blown-up print from your promotion. Rigby has your hand clasped in his, you’re both smiling at the camera. Surrounding you both is your team, all frozen mid-clap as they cheer for you. Everyone, except for you, has large black Xs over their faces.

The pounding of your heart seems to vibrate through your entire body. You can hear the rushing thump in your ears and feel it tingling in your toes. A cold sweat prickles along the back of your neck.

There’s a stack of papers sitting on the remnants of the couch. From where you’re standing, you can see the top page has a format like one of your pieces for the Informant. Your fingers tremble as you scoop up the stack of papers and bring it closer to see.

There is a yellow sticky note tacked to the top. In a blocky scrawl, you read: ‘You have until the end of business on Friday to publish this. If you change anything about it, I’ll kill them all. If you don’t publish it, I’ll kill them all. If you go to the cops, I’ll kill them all. You ruined my life, it’s time for me to ruin yours.’

Under the sticky note, in large, bold print across the top of the paper is your full legal name. Below that, in the place of a subhead is ’The Monster Behind The Mask’. The first few lines have nausea rolling through your stomach. 

‘This may come as a surprise to my readers; I have a confession to make. I’m a fraud. Everything I represent is a lie. I’m no better than the people I feature in my writing. I take other people’s lives and break them apart. I turn people into monsters. But, what you don’t realize is that I’m the real monster.

I ruin lives.

Let me enlighten you…’

You trail off reading, shaking your head at the absurdity. Who wrote this? Your fingers flick through the pages, taking in block after block, ridiculous claim after ridiculous claim until you catch sight of a large image formatted between the columns. You flip back and spread the papers out, taking in the black-and-white scanner-copy image.

It’s a police report. Your own police report. A police report that’s been redacted, sealed, and eventually expunged. Only, here it is, plain and utterly whole. The blurb under the photo indicates that it’s evidence of how much of a monster you are and how you’ve been ruining lives since you were seventeen.

“No. No, no, no,” you mutter, the pages slipping from your fingers and fluttering to the floor in front of the sofa. Your movements are stiff and jerky as you pull your phone out. Your finger hovers over Hoseok’s contact. Blinking away the sudden tears blurring your vision, your gaze snaps to the giant spray-painted warning on the wall. You can’t risk it. So, you click a different contact instead; one you know is still a risk, but a more calculated one.

“Two calls in one day? You’re not drinking tequila again, are you? It’s only Thursday, babe, that’s more of a Friday venture,” Enola’s voice chirps brightly through the phone.

You swallow hard, tearing your gaze away from the wall of horrors in your office. “E,” you begin but have to stop to suck in a calming breath. It’s not that effective. Your voice quivers as you try again, “Enola, I think I’m in trouble.”

“Hey, whoa, what’s going on?” The change in her demeanor is instant. 

“Someone was in my apartment. There’s all this…stuff. Threats, uh…pictures. I don’t— I don’t know what to do,” you babble, describing everything but the image in the printed manuscript that’s mocking you from the floor.

You can hear Enola shuffling around, paper crumpling, and drawers slamming shut. “Send me photos of everything. I’m texting Jungkook right now, I’ll have him come get you.”

“I can’t leave, E. What if they come back? I need to catch them. There’s too much at stake here.” You pause, hearing Enola muttering to herself and the soft tapping of her fingers on her phone screen, probably texting her brother. “There’s something else.” Enola doesn’t respond, too busy texting. “Enola. Are you listening? I said there’s something else.” Still, she’s quiet. “Enola!” you snap.

“What? Fuck, what? Sorry, JK’s being a bit of a shithead right now.”

“There’s something else. And…it involves you in a way.” Your heart beats so hard you feel lightheaded, so you slip down until you’re kneeling on the floor, slumped against the edge of the sofa. “Somehow, whoever this is, they uncovered the accident report…the one from graduation night,” you whisper.

A pregnant pause stretches after your words. Finally, Enola sighs and clears her throat. “Mine?” she asks quietly.

“It’s just mine,” you confirm.

“Okay,” determination enters her voice as she shifts into professional FBI-profiler mode. “Jungkook will be there soon. Go lock your door, and make sure your windows are all shut. You still have the mace I gifted you for Christmas, right? Get it. Don’t open the door for anyone except my brother. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, so you need to ask him for the passphrase. You know which one I’m talking about. I never thought we’d have to use it, but this seems like a good time that we should. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” you manage to get out between sharp breaths.

Enola spits another colorful curse. “I’m supposed to leave in an hour heading to Singapore. I’m going to ask Connor if I can drop off this case—“

“No, E! Don’t. No. You can’t do that. I’ll send over photos, show you everything, but you can’t do that. Your job is entirely too important and you know as well as I do that Connor won’t grant it anyway. It’s fine. Your brother will help. He’s good right?” She grunts an acknowledgement. “It’ll be fine. I’m just a little spooked right now, that’s all. You said it yourself, my job gets me into trouble sometimes. I’m sure this is just someone trying to get revenge because I exposed them in the Informant. No big deal, I’ve dealt with worse.” What you won’t admit, though, is how utterly terrifying and just how much of a big deal it is that someone has somehow uncovered your juvenile record. Which is just one step away from Enola’s, and that scares you even more. If this actually gets out, you and she both can kiss your reputations, as you know them, goodbye. “I just got to get ahead of whoever this is, put a stop to it before it gets out of hand.”

“Keep me posted. Swear it!” 

“I swear,” you promise before saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.

You give one last look at the intimidating display on the wall before yanking open your desk drawer and grabbing the other two drawings. You toss them onto the dining table and make quick work of checking all the windows and the doors to your apartment. Everything’s locked; as it always is. How someone got in without breaking something is lost on you.

While you wait for Enola’s brother, you check the text message he sent you earlier. It’s simple, just letting you know that he has some equipment for you and wondering when’s a good time to come over. You don’t bother to respond, knowing Enola already spoke with him and he’s coming over tonight regardless.

Thinking about what you can do in the meantime, you dial the extension for the front desk downstairs. Henry answers on the second ring.

“North Highland Park Tower, this is Henry. How may I help you?”

“Hey Hen, it’s me.”

“Ah, my favorite writer in 3C. What can I do for you tonight?”

You clear your throat. “Well, firstly, I just wanted to let you know I am expecting a visitor. It’s Enola’s brother, Jungkook. He should be by soon. I was also wondering if there was anything you’d noticed in the last few days. Maybe an odd name on the guest list, unusual people hanging out in the hallways, faces that aren’t familiar to you?”

Henry hums. “Is everything okay? Should there be something weird like that?”

It’s tempting to lie to him, but you feel bad enough as it is if your work is bringing potentially dangerous people into your building. So, you deign to give him as much of the truth as you can. “I’m not sure, really. It could just be kids in the building playing pranks, but I’ve gotten some weird presents left at my door the last few days.”

“Do I need to make a call to the locals?” Henry immediately questions. You can hear the seriousness in his voice. All it would take is one word and he’d have the PD here in a matter of minutes. “Damn kids can’t get away with scaring the community. I won’t allow it.”

“No, no, Henry. It’s nothing like that. I just wanted to see if there was anything you’d noticed is all. The things on my door have been harmless—,“ they, in truth, are, “—but if it is one of the kids in the building, I’d like to just have a chat with their parents. That’s all.”

You can practically hear the wheels turning in Henry’s head. “Yeah, okay. Nothing sticks out for me off the top of my head, but I’ll take a look back through our feeds and logs just to be sure.”

“Thanks, Henry, I appreciate it. If you find anything, just give me a ring. I swear if it’s something more, I’ve got Detective Jung on speed dial,” you put as much sincerity into your words as possible. You hope he accepts it and only does what you’ve asked. If he gets the cops involved, you’re not sure if your latest fan will care much whether it was you that called them or not.

There isn’t much more to do other than send things to Enola. You take a deep breath before heading back into your office. It’s hard to try and ignore the severity of the situation as you snap photos and send them off to her via the secure network she has set up for you. Her working for the FBI has its perks.

You get your laptop set up and begin compiling a spreadsheet of possible suspects. The number of criminals you’ve written about over the years is fairly large, but you’re able to reduce the pool based on a few factors. It’s safe to assume any of the individuals that have graced your column and are incarcerated, can be ticked off the list. That eliminates a good portion of the list. Though, you know it’s possible for criminals to coordinate from the inside. So, you backtrack and just divide that group into its own lists. All of this might be for nothing, but you feel better doing something other than just waiting.

It’s less likely that it’s someone in your building. The threat still waiting in your office is proof enough for that. That’s far too complex for a couple of jerkwad kids to pull off. Not only would they have to have the skills to dig up your juvie record, but they’d also have to be able to unseal it, purge the redactions, and then compile the manuscript. You don’t have nearly enough confidence in the abilities of teens to be able to pull that off. Plus, the biggest, glaring factor of all— motive, they have no motive.

For all the work you’re putting in right now, you’re not even sure how much will be worth the effort. You put a pot of coffee on and change into a pair of leggings and a comfortable t-shirt. It’s only about an hour after you discover the message in your office when there’s an abrupt knock on your door.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to chapter list

◅ Back to Master List ©️       2022-12-22   ColorMePurplex2

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts au #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jugnkook x reader #sherlock holmes au #sherlock holmes jungkook #bts friends to lovers #bts best friends brother au #bangtanwritershq #jungkook fanfic #bts crime au #bts thriller au

[jjkmgy]

#someone take my bank card away from me #I am the victim of my own crimes x #sigh #jungkook #mingyu #lee know #taehyung #wooyoung #I do take them out every few weeks to admire my collection though so it was money well spent imo