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theharrowing · 11 months

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Collateral 🗡️ 17 - Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid

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?

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🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader 🗡️ word count: 15.6k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+

🗡️ chapter warnings: excessive drinking to numb/forget; so much fucking tension lolol; Hwasa (yes, that is the warning); new nickname for the bingo card (doll/dollface); Jeongguk is a flirty little shit & he got his eyebrow and lip pierced; mc learns to dance; use of "whore" (not derogatory but also kind of derogatory); smoking weed; mc confessing to "going all ways" (sorry straight readers, but i don't know how to not write a queer mc); mc has some complicated feelings and is doing her best; Jeongguk sometimes says the wrong thing but he is also doing his best; a healthy amount of crying; mention of dead moms; discussion of drug use & addiction; inexplicit discussion of sex (sorry lads, the smut is in the second half. it's worth the wait!!!)

🗡️ note: this chapter spans about three weeks, and there is no clear definition of time in between some scenes because mc is just kind of...dealing with the passage of time in her own way. so if it seems kind of disjointed, that is because it is meant to. also, as you may have seen, this chapter wound up being 30k words, so i have broken it in two parts and beefed up some of the scenes. i intend to post chapter 18 very, very soon. ok i love you, enjoy!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on june 2023 | read on ao3

You love Yoongi; there is no question about it.

Despite the hurt and confusion and pain, one thing that you are certain about, above all else, is that you love him.

And that is why you drink.

You drink to numb the myriad feelings. You drink to pass the time. You drink to forget. With a twinkling haze of intoxication, loud club beats, and bright lights, you drink, and drink, and drink.

Jimin caves instantly on his insistence to not teach you how to dance, and you realize that he is not only a brilliant dancer, but that he seems to really enjoy having someone around to join him. Behind Paradise is a ballet studio that he owns and rents out to instructors. When he has free time, he goes there to practice in front of the wall of mirrors while some sultry melody plays on an old-fashioned boombox in the corner.

Sometimes he throws on a hip-hop beat and does experimental moves with his body, contorting his limbs in square, jarring movements. Other times he drifts gracefully through the space to ballet pieces, muttering about Tchaikovski, Prokofiev, and other names of long-dead men that you struggle to pronounce. He is always magnificent—a true artist of his craft.

It takes no time at all to become a friendly face at Paradise. Within just a few nights, the cocktail waitresses, dancers, bartenders, and regulars all seem happy to greet you. Jimin has introduced you to everyone as dove, a nickname you quickly warm up to, which is what everyone there calls you.

Everyone, that is, except the new bar manager, Jeon Jeongguk.

At Paradise, under the flashy red, purple, and fuchsia lights, he calls you dollface, or doll for short. And at first, you fucking hate it; the words stick like bile to your tongue, heavy and tacky.

But the more he struts over with his black satin shirt unbuttoned just a little too low, hair slicked back, standing too close with his sticky-sweet whiskey breath and muttering shit like, "Looking gorgeous tonight, doll," you begin to warm up to it a little.

"What happened to buttercup?" you teased the first time he tried the new nickname, and he rolled his eyes, chewing on a piece of pink bubblegum wide-mouthed like an adorable a fucking cow as he said, "That was the old me, dollface; I'm not the same person I was yesterday."

It should come as no surprise that Jeongguk is really beginning to grow on you. Now that he works the bar and you see him a lot more often, his attitude is much softer. He still teases you, and at times, it makes your fucking blood boil, but there is a softness to his gaze, especially when his smile stretches wide, that makes your tummy do a backflip whenever his presence lingers.

All of this is extra dangerous in your current situation because the last thing you need while on sabbatical from both of the men who you continue to be in some unnamed but deeply romantic relationship with, is Jeon Jeongguk making you feel giddy. Try as you might to convince yourself that your feelings are purely a product of your loneliness, you know that is untrue; your feelings for Jeongguk had already begun to sprout, and, as time goes on, they continue to grow.

You are also finding yourself charmed by Jeongguk's second-in-command, a wisp of a woman with a wide smile and even wider hips named Ahn Hyejin—stage name Hwasa. Hyejin is tiny, barely standing taller than Jeongguk's shoulder with her sharp stiletto heels on. But she commands a room, voice booming and deep when she needs it to be, making all the dancers do exactly as she says.

Although you are surrounded by beauty in a place like Paradise, nobody steals your attention like Hyejin. Her beautiful diamond-shaped face is always made up with sharp black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. With wide, dark brown eyes that pierce into your soul, all it takes is one pointed smirk, and you are practically melting to her feet. She is always dressed a little revealing, showing enough skin that your eyes continuously trail back to her, just to get another glance.

You understand why men wage wars over love and lust. Hyejin is living proof of why so many sonnets and classic literature pieces are steeped in maniacal desperation over a woman some lonely man saw at a passing glance one time.

Hyejin was once a dancer, too, but she worked her way into a management position, and all the family men who come to the bar treat her like a sister, including Jeongguk, who only reluctantly calls her Hyejin-noona because she is two years older than him and likes to insist on the nickname.

She teases Jimin at times, too, being several months older than he is, and she uses it to her advantage when she wants him to do something for her. Jimin always grumbles, rolling his eyes while fulfilling her requests to make the stages and dress rooms better for the dancers, but he does everything out of love for her, and for his dancers, and he is grateful to have her on his management team, giving him advice on how to improve.

Hyejin is, in a word, amazing.

"I see the way you look at her," Jimin teases you tonight the moment she walks in sporting a red one-piece latex bodysuit with long sleeves and a deep v-collar, putting her thighs on glorious display. She wears matching red thigh-high boots, and her long, dark brown hair falls past her shoulders in waves.

Although you turn your head in the direction of Jimin's voice, your eyes stay on Hyejin as she struts over to the bar where Jeongguk is leaning forward on his elbows, getting his attention by draping herself over him and slamming her hip against his side.

"Hmm?" you finally ask when seeing the two of them standing side-by-side has your cheeks feeling entirely too warm, though it still takes a few stray seconds to pull your gaze to Jimin.

He has one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and he tongues the inside of his cheek, making you feel even more embarrassed. You are only human…what does he expect from you?

Tonight, Jimin wears silver shimmer on his eyes, with his brown hair styled off his forehead. His black satin button-up is undone to the center of his chest, and it is tucked into very tight, fitted black slacks, styled with black boots.

Everyone at Paradise is honestly so breathtaking; it is no wonder the place brings in so many high-rollers willing to spend top dollar. Although you are determined to keep Jimin as a friend only—not that he has ever shown signs of wanting more from you—you still find yourself stunned by his beauty.

"Gonna start calling you fawn instead of dove," Jimin teases, and you snicker at the wordplay, unwilling or able to deny you have been fawning over Hyejin since the moment you met her.

"I need a pet name bingo card," you tease, scrunching your nose to feign annoyance, despite finding it cute.

You smell a familiar perfume—bright floral and lightly fruity—dance softly in the air before you feel an arm sling around your waist, and you take a fortifying breath before turning to find Hyejin's beaming red smile inches from your face.

"Hey, dove," she greets in a deep, sultry tone that makes every little hair on your body stand up.

"Hey, Hyejin," you respond as your cheeks become hot.

"What are you up to tonight?" she asks, giving your waist a squeeze before sliding her arm away but staying just as close. "Practicing any more of your dance moves?"

You giggle and shake your head, feeling nervous about talking to her, of all people, about dancing. Once Jimin let it slip that he was showing you floor moves, both Hyejin and Jeongguk began hounding you for a demonstration.

"Ahhhh, probably not," you respond, sounding just as awkward as you feel. "I was planning on sitting here tonight and drinking all of Jimin's expensive whiskey for free."

Hyejin pouts and it sends your heart haywire, making you nearly cave. "I want to see your moves," she says in a sweet, baby voice that has you floundering for words—deciding that you would probably do anything to satisfy her.

"Maybe once I feel more confident," you respond demurely, nibbling on your bottom lip.

This seems to satisfy her, and she winks as she says, "Looking forward to it," before walking off to the dressing rooms to check on her dancers.

"Holy shit," you mutter under your breath once she is gone, catching your breath as if you had just run a marathon.

Jimin scoffs, teasing you as he says, "You are such a whore," and you laugh with him, rubbing your palms over your face. The effect that she has on you must be as obvious to her as it is to everyone else, and the prospect of that makes you nervous.

You have begun to dress a little nicer when you visit Paradise, starting from the first night Hyejn was introduced to you—wearing the more casual designer dresses that Jimin graciously brought from your room at the mansion, and letting him do your hair and makeup. She always gets a little too close when you have your cleavage showing, so you have been displaying it more and more lately.

"She's just so pretty," you complain as if it is an inconvenience, making Jimin laugh anymore.

"Careful, doll," Jeongguk's voice speaks way too close to your right ear, causing you to gasp and flinch, turning in the direction of the sound. "Keep flirting with her and it might make me jealous."

You scoff and lean away from Jeongguk, who only crowds closer, teasing you with a grin. Recently, Jeongguk has gotten his eyebrow and lip pierced, both on the right side—your left—and he keeps his hair cut short with a sharp, dark undercut. Today, his hair is styled in a swoop over his forehead, and his delicate, floral musky scent is dizzying the closer he gets.

Since working at Paradise, Jeongguk has begun to dress a little differently, and you find yourself unable to keep from sneaking glances at the slivers of skin he kept hidden behind buttons and t-shirts before. He continues to don his standard all-black attire, but he has also switched to satin, much like Jimin. His shirts are always unbuttoned to the center of his toned chest with no undershirt, and tonight he has several silver chains of various lengths and widths cascading from his neck.

"I wouldn't dream of it," you tease as you take a step away from Jeongguk and spin on your toes, toward the bar. A sexy R&B song plays loudly, and you swish your hips to the rhythm, knowing without having to glance back that he is watching you.

And although you tell yourself that you should not enjoy his attention so much—or anyone's attention, for that matter—you revel in the thrill it gives you. Yoongi and Namjoon have both encouraged you to pursue him, anyway…surely they wouldn't mind if you have a little innocent fun. After all, you have no idea when you may see the two of them again.

Nights at Jimin's house are lonely. His mansion is huge and empty, and you prefer not to spend much time there by yourself, which means you tend to be at Paradise from late evening to mid-morning most nights. At first, you thought your sleep schedule would adjust and you would become a night owl just like Jimin and Jeongguk, but as the days wear on, you find yourself exhausted, floating through a realm of half-wakefulness. The drinking likely does not help.

But what other choice do you have? Despite the deep ache behind your ribs, it feels too soon to return to Namjoon. During a brief phone call shortly after returning from Paris, he mentioned Yoongi was in the countryside at a facility to help him get past the first three weeks of withdrawal.

From time to time, you find yourself wondering how long it has been since you returned from Paris. It could have been weeks, but it could have been days; you have been disinterested in keeping track, finding the tangible passage of time too painful to confront. You figure the time will come when they are both ready to return to you and not a moment sooner; no use dwelling on it.

On the nights when all you wish to do is let go and forget, you either sit at the center stage and watch the strip shows with a drink in hand, or you head to the upper-level VIP section of the club and dance by the railings. When you are feeling outgoing, you find a group of drunk, friendly women by the back bar to become single-use friends with for the night and dance until bar close.

Back when you first moved into the mansion, Paradise was apparently a dance club with a brothel beneath, just like Serendipity. But during the weeks leading up to your Paris trip, Jimin had been working on getting the space remodeled—hence why you had not seen him around much, for a while. There still is a dancefloor, but it is rather compact near the back bar; not too many people come to Paradise just to dance.

The main room now consists of three stages—two smaller ones on either side of the room, and one large stage in the center, all equipped with a spinning poll. Everything is made up of dark wood, black leather, and chrome.

Beneath Paradise, there are still brothel rooms, but it is a very hush-hush affair that not too many patrons seem aware of. A patron can book any of the dancers for a private strip show and lap dance in a back room, but anything explicitly sexual is kept strictly to the lower level, and unless someone knows how to ask for it, they will get removed from the premises in a heartbeat.

Jimin oversees all Paradise operations, but his main focus is on the activities that take place underground. Jeongguk and Hyejin oversee everything on the main floors, including the strip stages, the back bar and dancefloor, and the VIP bar upstairs, which is more or less just a mezzanine with a bar and booths that cost a pretty penny to use.

Paradise is your oyster, and you more or less have free reign to do anything you would like.

During the nights when you do not feel like drinking, you go to the dance studio. Sometimes, Jimin goes along to let off some steam, either before he needs to run things at Paradise, or when he has a break in his duties. Other times, you go alone.

You have been getting a hang of moving your body in ways Jimin has shown you, and in new ways that you are discovering on your own. And although you are nowhere near as flexible or fluid as he is, you are surprised by how your body can bend and move and stretch when you allow it patience and grace to learn how. You get why he, and the other dancers at Paradise, take so much pride in their craft. To the patron, it may just seem like stripping and ass-shaking for some loose notes, but to them, and to you, it truly is an art form.

On nights when you dance, the loneliness is not at all quelled, and you find yourself spacing out often and getting lost in your thoughts. But the more you move and let out all of your pent-up energy, the lighter the loneliness seems to feel. Some nights you are able to relax and feel at peace, rolling and stretching your body without a care in the world. It gives you hope that there truly may be a light at the end of this tunnel, no matter how long it takes for you to reach it.

"Hey, pretty," a familiar sultry voice purrs, giving you goosebumps.

It is some unknown night in the middle of the week, and you left a group of bachelorettes by the back bar to step outside and smoke a joint. It is rare that anyone is out here, and you are surprised to find Hyejin, of all people, leaning against the brick wall in this quiet, employees-only escape tucked away in a dark alley. This spot is nestled behind a tall fence, past which is a set of dumpsters and a narrow path out to the main roads.

Hyejin is beautiful as always, wearing a black long-sleeve crop top shirt and high-waisted short shorts, under which black garters stick out and are clipped to black thigh-high socks. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, slicked on the sides, and as she approaches, her mary jane heels clack against the pavement.

"Hyejin," you mutter, swallowing thickly and abandoning the joint you had forgotten to light, cradling it in your fist. "Didn't realize you would be out here."

Tonight, she wears a nude lipstick rather than the red you have grown accustomed to, and her smile is not quite as warm. As she approaches, you are greeted by her lightly fruity, floral perfume.

"Stepped out for a breather," she sighs, eyes falling to your hand before they meet your gaze. With a raise of her eyebrows, she adds, "Mind if I help you smoke that?"

Your brain has to reboot before you lift your hand to inspect its contents, and you remember what you came outside for, chuckling as you hold out the joint and lighter to her and say, "Of course. You can hit greens."

Every once in a while, Hyejin will smile shyly. She has a practiced shy smile that she uses on Jimin, Jeongguk, and plenty of her customers—honed to perfection to get just what she wants. But this one is soft and delicate, filling her beautifully golden-tawny-toned cheeks with a deep red blush.

As she unfurls the soft smile that opens into a toothy grin, she reaches out both slender manicured hands and takes your offering, gently scratching her long, painted-black fingernails against your palms. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you giggle, squeezing your hands shut before opening them again.

"That tickles," you admit when she looks curiously, laughing softly at you.

"You're easily ticklish, hmm?" she mutters with the joint cradled between her lips, then flicks on the lighter, giving her face a beautiful golden glow while igniting the tip and sucking in.

Hyejin takes a slow inhale followed by a sharp one, then holds her breath and passes the joint to you. When she lets out an exhale, smoke plumes in front of her, and you take a nice, big hit and hold it in, just the same.

The smoke is warm in your lungs and licks at your senses. As you breathe it out, you feel a small sense of release, letting your shoulders drop and your body relax.

When you turn to hand the joint back to Hyejin, she is standing much closer, leaning on the sliver of brick wall between you and the closed back door. You instinctively take a step back but rotate so that you are facing her, with barely any space between you. This time, when she smiles, her eyes have the sparkle that you are used to, but there is still an unmissable hint of sadness swirling in their deep umber depths.

"You know, you can always talk to me if you need someone," she offers unprompted as she takes a hit and hands the joint back.

You nod and mull it over, unsure where you would even begin. You have no idea what Hyejin knows about your situation, and although you think you can trust her, there is a part of you that is unsure whether you really want to talk about it, especially right now.

"Thank you," you say before taking a hit and holding it in. Hyejin turns her head to blow the smoke away from your face, then she reaches out one hand and gently rubs her fingertips over your wrist, snaking them into the sleeve of your black denim jacket and sending a tingling warmth into your bloodstream.

You turn your head to exhale, then hold up the joint, asking, "More?"

"I'm good right now," she responds softly, and you move your hand away from her inviting touch to pinch the lit end off onto the ground. In your pocket is a small plastic tube into which you slide the joint, placing a little plastic cap over the end so that its smell does not stick to your clothing, and then you return your arm to its spot and allow her fingers to resume exploring your wrist and hand.

"I appreciate the offer," you try, hearing the way your voice trembles as the weed settles over you and fills you with a heavy-weightless warmth, buzzing in a deep thrum that tenses and relaxes and relaxes and relaxes. Sheepishly, with a giggle, you add, "I don't…really know where to begin."

Hyejin's hand sides into yours, palm against palm, fingers wrapping and holding on tight.

"That's okay," she responds with a disarming smile. "I just wanted to offer, just in case. I know you have Jimin and Jeongguk, too."

At this, you laugh and sink further against the brick wall, tilting your head to rest against the scratchy, unwelcoming surface. "I do have them…for better or worse."

Hyejin laughs in understanding, then she rolls her eyes and says, "Jeongguk is so possessive; I thought the two of you were dating when you first started coming around."

"Oh?" you respond, a bit surprised by this news. Admittedly, when you first began coming to Paradise, you thought there was something going on between the two of them. It took a couple nights to realize that the way Hyejin hangs off of and pouts at her manager is all an act. "We're…not…" you begin, trailing off, unsure what to say.

"He clearly has feelings for you, regardless," she adds, and you search her face and fidget in place. Hyejin seems genuine and sweet, but you are so used to women in this line of work having ulterior motives and using kindness as a tool to gain information and an upper hand. But that does not seem to be what she is doing, and you let out the breath that had gotten trapped in your lungs and nod, chuckling lightly.

"Yeah," you admit, feeling your cheeks warm. "He…certainly does."

"Oh my god," Hyejin teases, squeezing your hand until you look at her wide, beaming smile. "You like him too, don't you?"

Try as you might to shake your head and mutter, "No," she mirrors the movement, laughing and practically shouting, "Yes, you definitely do! You are a terrible liar, dove!"

"It's…complicated," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut with embarrassment.

A sweet giggle flits through the air like a flutter of butterflies, and you open your eyes to find Hyejin regarding you with the sweetest smile.

"I won't judge you," she assures, giving your hand another squeeze. "I don't know a lot about your relationship, but Jimin has mentioned you are dating two men, which…honestly, sounds like a dream come true."

Your heart seizes a bit around the word dating, and you swallow thickly and nod, unwilling to go down that path. Nothing has ever been established, despite your confessions of love and the huge, expensive fake-engagement ring that sits in your dark, empty bedroom. Sometimes, if you allow yourself to dwell on it, both the distance and time spent away from them make you worry that things may have an end date that is sooner than you expect.

But none of this is pertinent enough information to share at a time like this, so you smile as convincingly as you can while saying, "It has its perks."

Hyejin returns your smile and closes the already meager space between the two of you to press a kiss against your cheek. Her mouth is soft and warm, and you let your eyes flutter closed, smiling from the smell of bluebells and apple that fills your senses. As she pulls her lips back, she stays close, cradling your chin with her hand while opening her mouth to continue speaking. However, the back door flies open, cutting off what she was going to say.

The sight of Jeongguk looking around the corner makes you gasp and back up, kicking up a flurry of feelings in your chest. Despite nothing happening between you and Hyejn, this feels like too precarious of a position to be caught in suddenly. Daresay, it may appear somewhat intimate.

Jeongguk's expression is wide and shocked, but it quickly melts to intrigue. He steps outside and approaches, slinging an arm over both your shoulder and Hyejin's.

"Well, what have we here?" he asks with a tone that is far too gleeful for anyone's good.

"I was just telling our dove that I am here if she needs anything, and then I gave her a kiss on the cheek," Hyejin says, turning to Jeongguk and standing on her toes to plant her lips against his jaw.

Jeongguk looks affronted and gasps as she says, "There, now nobody is left out."

"Listen, I'm not here to break up whatever is going on between my favorite girls." Jeongguk says, gaze on you as he raises an eyebrow and adds, "I just didn't know our doll swings both ways."

Feeling indignant and a little claustrophobic, you shrug away from Jeongguk's arm and give his shoulder a shove.

"For your information, I go…all ways…" you mutter with a grimace, trailing off because you do not owe him an explanation. Labels for sexual orientation may work for some, but they have never been your thing; you like people for people, and it is as simple as that. Defensive, you add, "But she was just giving me a friendly little kiss on the cheek, so it doesn't matter."

Jeongguk grunts unconvincingly, then leans in close to say, "But a kiss between friends can easily spiral into something more, can it not?"

With that, Jeongguk takes a step back, leaving you standing shell-shocked and ready to smack him. Jeongguk winks and says, "Hyejin-noona, when you're ready, I have some things I wanna go over with for tonight," then he walks inside.

Hyejin holds out her elbow, asking, "Shall we?" and you lift a hand to slide against her soft skin, allowing her to lead the way.

Once you are back inside, the bachelorette group is still at the back bar, drunker and louder than when you left them, and you wave Hyejin and Jeongguk off as you walk over and allow the women to pull you into their chaotic little group for shots.

You wake up late in the evening with a hangover after hanging with the bachelorette group the night and morning before, taking shot after shot of overly sweet liquor that was far too strong for its own good. It feels like it has been ages since you have felt so awful, and the thought of having even a drop more of alcohol makes your stomach churn.

So, tonight, rather than go to Paradise, you decide to visit the dance studio to practice the floor moves Jimin has been teaching you. Although you are still certain you have no desire to dance at the club, practicing the moves has been cathartic. And it helps you slow down on drinking. Being a lush for a while has definitely been one way to handle your myriad tumultuous emotions, but the hangovers are too frequent, and after what you felt earlier today, you are eager to change your ways.

Dancing also makes you feel sexy. You enjoy watching the way your body can curve and flex, bending and swaying in ways you had never really attempted before. Tonight you alternate between taking moves slowly on the floor, facing away from the mirrors, before attempting to add speed and flow to them while watching your reflection.

With the cassette mixtape that Jimin has scribbled Whore Mix onto playing through the boombox, you stretch on a dark purple yoga mat that sits in the center of the floor while a sultry voice sings and raps over a beat that begs your hips to move, with the mirrors to your left and the studio door behind you.

The approaching click-clack of boots against the wooden floor that greets you does not strike you as odd at first; you have grown accustomed to Jimin and his affinity for boots. So you continue practicing without turning to greet him.

Anchored back on your elbows, sitting on the mat on your left hip, with both legs bent, you stretch your right leg straight and fan it out at an angle lifted in front of you. In the same fluid motion, you lift your left leg, creating a v-shape in the air. Then you curl your legs in, trying to perfect the graceful movement that Jimin is so good at, twisting until you are on your right hip.

Only when clapping echoes through the room do you realize that the boots had stopped moving and that the tell-tale frenetic energy Jimin always brings to the studio is missing. You turn with a gasp and find Jeongguk standing in the center of the room, wearing his standard all-black. His button-up is undone enough to show a dip of his chest, as always, with no shirt underneath, and it is tucked into black slacks that are so fitted, the material strains against his thighs when he shifts from one foot to the other.

"My, my," Jeongguk teases, approaching before squatting beside you. "What have I walked in on?"

Instinctively, you lean away, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. You sit wearing a tight purple sports bra and very tight, very short black athletic shorts, making you self-conscious to be met with such a hungry stare, especially knowing that he had been watching you, just now.

"Jeongguk," you mutter, having to clear your throat to get more sound out. "What are you doing here?"

"I was coming to see if Jimin was here. Wanted to run a few things by him."

You nod, feeling like a fish out of water with how your mouth hangs open. Jeongguk's cologne is stronger than usual and a little different tonight—musky and floral with hints of spice—and you find it incredibly intoxicating.

"But what I found is far more enticing," Jeongguk continues with a smirk.

Silence falls between you, and you feel your hands prickle with sweat. All you can think about is that kiss in Hong Kong and the chemistry you found in his lips—how delicately he asserted control but never pushed or pulled too much, causing you to unravel in moments. You want to feel that again—want to feel him again—so much that it seems like a bad idea for you to be left alone with him, like this. Flirting in the club, with people around, is one thing, but here, alone, seems dangerous.

Jeongguk stands, and you let out a heavy breath, then swallow a lump, feeling relief wash over you at the thought of him leaving. But then he walks over to the corner, to where some black chairs are shoved together, and he grabs one. Anxiety washes over you when he begins to bring the chair over, boot heels echoing loudly against the floor as he places it beside you and has a seat. He spreads his legs and leans forward, resting his wrists against his knees, tattooed hands so close you could reach out to him.

With his lips tugged into a sharp grin, he says, "Let me see that move again."

You must look as stunned as you feel, blinking up at him, because he chuckles and raises his pierced eyebrow, clearly amused by your lack of response.

"Come on, dollface," Jeongguk teases, leaning even closer and dropping his voice far too low for comfort. "Don't be shy."

Even as nervous as you are under his piercing stare, you like the attention he gives you. But continuing what was started between you without Yoongi or Namjoon present feels wrong, and it stirs up guilt and shame, starting in your tummy and working its way to your throat. You want to show Jeongguk your moves and crawl to him, grind your hips over his lap until he calls you noona and begs you for more. But not here. Not like this.

Luckily, the click-clack that actually belongs to Jimin's boots storms down the hallway and into the room, giving you an out.

"I told you to meet me in my office," Jimin complains, approaching with his hands on his hips, one balled into a fist that holds onto a manilla envelope. "Why did you come here? To bother her?"

"I must have misread the text," Jeongguk responds, eyes still on you while they glimmer mischievously before turning his attention to Jimin. "Office…dance studio…same thing."

Jimin lunges forward and slaps the envelope against the back of Jeongguk's head, saying, "Not the same thing, and you know it!" before shoving the document into his hands.

You watch somewhat stunned as Jeongguk's mouth falls agape, and he chuckles. Then, as he begins to open and read through the contents of the folder, you take your leave, rolling the yoga mat in your hands as you walk away. Draped over one of the black chairs in the corner is a black hoodie and sweatpants, and you pad over, set the mat onto a chair, and slink into the garments, keeping your hair tucked into the shirt and the hood pulled low over your face.

"Gonna head back to work," Jimin says in a flurry, exiting just as fast as he arrived with the folder in his hand. "Come to the club if you want. Or call me if you need anything."

With a nod, you turn on your toes and begin for the door.

"And just where are you going?" Jeongguk asks, stopping you in your tracks and pushing a sigh from your lungs.

"Home," you say before your lips flounder, and you correct yourself, heavy-blinking. "Jimin's place."

With a hum, Jeongguk stands and says, "I'll drive you," picking up his chair to bring it back to where he got it from.

Although you have made no plans for a ride, you know that Hoseok was at the club earlier, and you had planned to call and see if he was around. Jeongguk giving you a ride would definitely be convenient, but is that something you want right now?

"You have work to do," you insist, shaking your head and feeling nervous at the thought of being in a vehicle alone with him.

But Jeongguk sets the chair down, takes you by the back of the arm, and begins to usher you rather forcefully out the door. As your sneaker heels dig into the wooden floor, rubber squeaking with each step he makes you take, you feel petulant, and you are dragged to the dark hallway before you manage to yank yourself out of his grasp and take an uneasy step back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you ask, feeling anger rise and fighting the urge to slap him.

"What?" Jeongguk says through a chuckle, looming over you while he steps forward, closing the distance with each step you take backward until you hit the wall. "You're dancing like a whore now, so I figured you wanted to be treated like one, too."

Although you feel anger buzzing through you like a livewire, sending every nerve on high alert, more than anything, you feel deflated. Despite Jimin jokingly using that word to tease you, there is something about the way Jeongguk says it—something almost sardonic and mocking in his tone, met with how forcefully he dragged you out of the room. It settles like bile in your guts and makes you feel extremely uncomfortable.

But, rather than put up a fight and challenge him, you storm away, shoving past his weak attempt to hold you back as you stomp toward the door.

"Hey," Jeongguk calls, heavy footsteps trailing behind you. "What's the matter with you?"

Unable to hold in your rage, you spin on your toes, shoving your palms against Jeongguk's chest as you say, "What's the matter with you?"

Jeongguk hardly flinches, and when you step forward to push him again, he grips onto your wrists and holds you still, tugging you close to him but not in a way that is meant to be rough or suggestive. He almost looks worried, brows knit as he studies your face.

"Hey, hey," he mutters, holding onto you just tight enough that you have no choice but to stop lashing out.

Somehow it works. Maybe because you are exhausted, or maybe it is the floral, musky scent of his cologne—or a combination of things wrecking your tiny sense of sanity—but you hold still and let Jeongguk softly shush you while rubbing his thumbs over the knobby joints in your wrists.

"I don't like it when you talk about women that way," you say, feeling a swell of sadness fill your chest. You are aware that this is likely a trauma response to the way men have treated you in the past, but you need to at least attempt to establish a boundary. "I know we joke about it at the club, but the way you said it, I—" You close your eyes and shake your head.

"When have I ever talked about women that way?" Jeongguk asks, voice sounding more defensive than apologetic. "Look, I was joking. I'm sorry."

"Just don't do it, okay?" you insist, yanking your hands away until Jeongguk relents and folding your arms over your chest. "I was a whore before, Jeongguk. Is it so terrible? Do you really need to make it sound so demeaning? Yoongi's mother was a whore, too, you know."

Jeongguk's face pales, and he appears angry for a split moment, but you do not attempt to argue. Perhaps it is out of pocket to bring up Yoongi's dead mother, but you were a part of the honey bees who came after her; you belonged to the same organization, come hell and high water.

"You're right," he says, taking a step back and sliding his hands into his pockets. "I don't look down on sex workers, and I shouldn't talk as if I do. I'm sorry I offended you. I know that we make jokes, and I guess I got carried away. I didn't consider how even playful actions might bring up bad memories for you, and I get what that's like."

Surprised and unsure what to say, you rock on your feet a little before settling on, "Okay."

"My mother was a whore too," Jeongguk adds, stepping forward slowly. "I never held it against her. Even when it got her killed, I never thought badly about her."

There it is, once more—the taste of guilt.

"Jeongguk," you say, taking a step forward, but he holds up his hand and shakes his head.

"I offended you. I'm the one apologizing. Let me make it up to you by driving you home?"

You nod, conceding. "Alright."

The walk to Jeongguk's black sports car is quiet in a way that feels charged and awkward, but as you settle in, you begin to relax. Silence continues to hang during most of the drive, and all the while, you think of Yoongi. As you stare out at the city lights that fade the further you get from the city, you wonder how he must be doing and whether he will return home soon.

"Did you supply the heroin?" you ask without thinking, staring out at the dark roads past the city line.

As silence stretches, part of you worries that Jeongguk might be offended by your question, and you keep your eyes on the shadowed hints of trees, refusing to acknowledge the expression on his face.

Finally, Jeongguk mutters a simple, "No," and you allow yourself to regard him.

Jeongguk's jaw is tense, and he stares ahead at the road, tonguing on the inside of his mouth while both hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

"I didn't think you did," you respond softly, watching as his pierced eyebrow raises. "I don't know why I felt compelled to ask."

Jeongguk's gaze flicks to you, then back on the road. "Because you overheard my conversation with Namjoon that morning outside your bedroom. And because I was the one in charge of the drug operations."

"Yeah," you respond with a shrug. "But I don't think you would be that careless."

With a hum from Jeongguk, silence settles once more. You relax back in your seat, watching the road curve and become a little hilly before evening out. By now, you are familiar with this stretch, anticipating the sight of the property to come into view very soon.

Whenever you pass the mansion these days, it is dark and quiet. If not for the outdoor security lights, it would be nothing more than a looming shadow—a silhouetted remnant of lives at a standstill. Namjoon must sleep in his own home, and from time to time, you consider walking down the dirt and gravel path to his property to see him.

But everything feels off balance in a way that you struggle to reconcile, and you feel like you need a little more time. You fish your phone from your hoodie pocket and check his Instagram feed, sad to see he has not posted anything to his story.

Namjoon likes to post his workout routines, what he is listening to, and shots from trips to museums. Lately, though, he barely shares anything, making the lack of his presence feel heavier. You nearly ask Jeongguk to drop you off at his place, but you cannot seem to open your mouth to get the words out.

Instead, you text him.

You: It's hard to keep tabs on you when you don't post story updates.

The message feels stupid, and you chew on the inside of your mouth once you hit send, staring at the screen and hoping that when he sees it, he does not find it annoying. Is there a chance of him being offended?

Three dots appear and disappear, over and over, making the anxiety in your tummy frantically build and crash like a wave pool that has just been switched on. But then he sends a simple little sentence that stirs both immense joy and deep, profound sadness—

Namjoon: I miss you too, sweetheart.

—and you stare down at it until your vision blurs with tears.

As you open your mouth to ask to be taken to Namjoon's house, the dots appear and disappear again, and rather than speak, you clear your throat and wait for him to say more.

"What is it?" Jeongguk asks, and you turn your head to him, confused at first, then realize he may have taken the sound as a feeble attempt at starting a conversation.

"Oh," you respond, "Uh, nothing."

"Alright," Jeongguk says simply as he begins to turn into Jimin's driveway, waiting as the metal gate opens and allows you entrance.

As you pull into the drive, listening to the gate close behind you, the urge to cry becomes more difficult to tamp down. You swallow thickly, blinking away tears as Jeongguk stalls in front of the door.

"You good?" Jeongguk asks, and you turn to regard him, but as soon as you open your mouth to tell him you are fine, the sounds die in your throat, and you have to swallow everything back down again.

"Th-thanks for the ride," you manage to mutter as you get out of the vehicle and run to Jimin's door, punching in an eight-digit code and holding your eyes open as wide as you can manage for the retina scan.

Once inside the dark, empty mansion, you sink against the cold, wooden door, feeling your chest heave with emotion so deep, you become nauseated. Gripped in your fist, your cell phone vibrates, and you lift the device in a shaking hand, checking the notification—

Namjoon: I miss your voice. And your smile. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

—which sends you crashing over the edge as tears pour and your voice comes out in a loud, terrible sob.

Your heart pounds as you cry, feeling the crushing weight of how deeply you miss Namjoon. Although each breath that enters and exits your lungs is a storm, rattling and shaking you to the core, you sniffle and hold your phone tightly in both hands as you place a call. It is late, but Namjoon is responding to texts, so perhaps he is free to talk.

Namjoon picks up on the first ring, and when his deep, surprised voice says, "Hey, sweetheart," you sob even harder. How is it that something so tiny could make his absence feel so much heavier?

"Hey," Namjoon says, sweet and alert, "are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm okay," you cry, punctuated by a sniffle. "I'm at Jimin's. Everything is fine."

"Everything does not sound fine," Namjoon insists, and you smile softly at his concern, taking in a deep breath. "Do you need something? Can I…can I do anything?"

Namjoon still owes you an explanation, and it is not something you will easily let slip. But you are certain that you cannot continue to keep him at a distance, even if it means putting the much-needed conversation on the back burner. Although life with Jimin has been fun and a little exciting, the loneliness you feel from being away from Namjoon and Yoongi has a tendency to become excruciating.

"Can I see you?" you ask weakly, like a child who is afraid of being scolded.

The soft chuckle that proceeds, "Of course, you can," warms your heart, and you close your eyes and smile wide, clutching your phone tightly to your ear. "Give me ten minutes? I'll be right there."

With a wet, disgusting sniffle, you say, "Okay," and rub the back of your hand against your nose.

"I'll be there soon," Namjoon says as he ends the call, and you nod to nobody as you drop your phone down and clench it to your heart.

It takes effort, but you peel yourself from the floor and kick off your shoes before heading up the stairs to your borrowed bedroom, squinting as you switch on the light. The room is similar to your room in Yoongi's mansion, but the bedding and curtains are pinks and oranges—a permanent sunrise.

As you cross the room to the walk-in closet, you pull off the joggers and athleticwear from earlier and find a cute, soft pair of pink sleep shorts and a matching, loose pink tee. Then you run into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Even though you did not drink anything tonight, you want to kiss Namjoon until your lips bruise, and you need to be minty fresh.

By the time you are rinsing your mouth and wiping your chin off, you hear a loud knocking on the front door, surprised that ten minutes could have passed so quickly. You run out of the ensuite and find your phone on the bed to shoot off a message before heading down to let Namjoon in.

You: One minute!

Although the rest of the mansion is dark, Jimin also has security lights on outside, and they shine through the windows enough to cast a silver glow over the small mezzanine and down the steps. You scurry down quickly, feet carrying you light and fast, and when you get to the front door and fling it open, you hardly have a chance to take in the sight of Namjoon before he is crossing the threshold and lifting you into his arms.

A sob quakes through you as you wrap your arms and legs around him, burying your face into his neck. He smells musky—a bit sweaty—but the bright cologne with gentle floral hints you are used to are present. Namjoon closes the front door, haphazardly steps from his shoes, and makes his way to the stairs, stepping slowly as he holds you tight. If you are not mistaken, it feels like his breathing shutters through him, and you wonder if he may also be crying.

"I'm sorry," you find yourself muttering when the silence stretches on long and oppressive.

Namjoon squeezes you harder.

"No," he says softly, voice trembling, "sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I made you cry," you sob, feeling guilt and sadness fill your lungs until it hurts to breathe.

Namjoon chuckles and sniffles, reaching the top landing of the stairs and turning to the right, toward the only light in the home that is on. He says, "Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid," and your heart goes wild behind your ribs, bursting with affection.

"I've missed you so much," you whimper against Namjoon's skin, and when he leans forward and attempts to put you down onto the bed, you tighten your limbs, clinging to him like a koala.

"Let me set you down so we can get comfortable," Namjoon suggests, and you shake your head, groaning as you hold on tighter. He sighs, and tries, "Come on, I want to see you. I want to kiss you."

Once his attempts are futile, Namjoon gets onto his knees on the bed and bends until you are lying on your back with him towering over you. You finally move your head away from his neck and heavy-blink as you meet his eyes—which are bloodshot and blinking back tears.

"I've missed you too," Namjoon says as he kisses you, soft and sweet and warm. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened. I should have told you about everything, but I was scared to."

Namjoon's kisses are salty and wet, and he trembles above you, gripping the blanket tightly in his fists on either side of your head. Finally, you concede to his need to get comfortable, and you press against his chest, rubbing your fingers over soft black cotton.

"Hey, lay down," you say softly, pushing a little harder. "You were right, let's get comfortable."

Namjoon sighs through his tears and gets up onto his knees, then crawls over to the pillows and makes a feeble attempt at moving the bright pink and orange floral comforter away. You sit up and help him, then run to the door to close it before adjusting the dimmer switch, lowering the lights just enough so that you can still see him.

When you turn back to the bed, Namjoon has figured out the comforter, which is bunched up at the end of the against his feet, and he is sitting against the wooden headboard with his hands in his lap, watching you with a soft expression while tear tracks shimmer against his cheeks. He wears a black tee and black joggers, with his legs extended out but one leg bent slightly at the knee, and he is breathtaking—just as you remembered him. Maybe even more so.

He has gotten a haircut recently, just above his ears, making him look younger. And it is darker; a more natural color. Some time ago—maybe a few days, or maybe a week—Namjoon posted a mirror selfie of the cut, obstructed mostly by his phone, and you are happy to finally see it in person.

As you get onto the bed, on your knees, Namjoon reaches for you, pulling against the backs of your thighs until you have no choice but to straddle his lap, giggling at his insistence. You settle and drape your wrists over his shoulders to rub your fingertips over the short hairs on his nape while Namjoon's smile oscillates between joy and sadness.

"I want to tell you I'm sorry," you begin, without giving him a chance to speak. You have been thinking about this every sober waking moment of however much time has passed—and some intoxicated moments, as well—and you feel it is necessary to get it off your chest. Emotions rise as you gather your thoughts, and your next exhale comes out shaky. "I was angry in Paris, but the things I said to you and Yoongi did not come from the heart. I was hurt, and I still am, but…I don't understand addiction. I have no idea what Yoongi must be going through, and I—"

You choke on a sob suddenly as a flash of Yoongi's face comes into view. The hurt way in which he stared ahead, straight through you, while you screamed and cried and demanded to be taken home.

Gently, Namjoon rubs his hands up and down your back, covering you in comforting warmth. His smile is sad, but he does his best to show that he is listening and that he is receptive to what you need to say.

"I just feel so awful," you continue as tears fall. You are so tired of crying and hurting, but it is a necessary step in healing, and you do your best to let it quake through you and settle into your bones. "I love Yoongi. I don't want him to be in pain."

"He knows," Namjoon finally says, but you screw your eyes closed and shake your head. He may have an idea of what you are going through, but he needs to hear from you that you are sorry. You need to tell him, yourself. "Yoongi using again was a bit of a surprise to all of us. Although it is something I always fear may happen again, I really had no idea it would happen like that, especially on vacation."

"When is he coming home?" you ask, feeling hopeful.

"Less than a week," Namjoon responds, smiling sweetly as he lifts his hands to thumb away the tears on your cheeks. "I have cleaned out the mansion, and Jeongguk has made sure the team taking over his responsibilities knows that heroin and other opioids are off limits. Jeongguk was already avoiding selling either in the first place, but he has reiterated that fact, to be on the safe side."

"That day, outside my room, you said there was a package with what looked like heroin," you say, watching as Namjoon's face screws up with worry. You grimace, adding, "I'm sorry I was eavesdropping."

"That…I still don't have all the details ironed out," Namjoon responds sullenly, "but I am certain that Jeongguk had nothing to do with it. Yoongi admitted that he had sent for the package on his own, and it arrived from overseas with a bunch of tailored suits. I don't know how he got a connect in Italy, but I really shouldn't be surprised; Yoongi knows people everywhere."

You nod somewhat listlessly, waiting for the crucial detail where Namjoon tells you he threatened the Italian guy, or found some way to rough him up—whatever the case—in order to keep him from sending Yoongi junk again. But when he does not continue, worry and sadness sink into your tummy like a brick.

"So…" you begin, heavy-blinking and feeling at a loss for words before settling on, "...how do we make sure he doesn't use again?"

Although Namjoon continues to smile, his eyebrows pinch sympathetically, and he returns to rubbing your back.

"We just love and support him," he offers, which feels both gigantic and minuscule, all things considered. "We continue to be there for him and…hope that it is enough."

"That's it, huh," you sigh, defeated.

"Yeah."

Silence hangs, and you let your vision blur, attempting to sort out what you could possibly do. What if loving Yoongi is not enough? What if the pressures of his lifestyle only continue to press and press on him until he sinks another needle into his vein, desperate for relief?

"I wish he could just…not do this anymore," you mutter, blinking Namjoon back into focus. "Maybe having all this power and responsibility is too much."

With a sad chuckle, Namjoon nods. "Yeah, well…the only way out of a life like his is death."

Although that is not the response you want, it is the one you expect, and you lean heavily into Namjoon, accepting it for now. There is not much more to say until Yoongi is back.

"Can we sleep?" you ask, feeling your body become weighted down with exhaustion and warm with a comfort you have not felt in what has seemed like eons.

"I would love to sleep," Namjoon responds sweetly, releasing you from his hold as you slide down to the bed and begin to reach for the comforter.

Namjoon gets out of bed to turn off the light, and for a split moment, in the cold, crushing dark, you begin to feel anxiety rush over you. In the cold, crushing dark, you are alone, alone, alone, isolated and heavy and so terribly scared. But then the bed dips, and warmth slides into place beside you. Limbs settle with a familiar weight, and suddenly, the darkness feels and smells like home.

"I love you," you tell the darkness, gasping when lips graze your cheek, your nose, and finally, your mouth.

"I love you, too," the darkness tells you sweetly as you begin to drift to sleep.

Tonight, you did not get to kiss Namjoon until your lips bruised, but you feel satisfied with the fact that you were able to lighten the burden of heavy sadness just a little. And, in a matter of days, when you have the same conversation with Yoongi, it may not go the same way, but at least the three of you can continue to take steps in the right direction, and that allows you to sink into sleep with a smile on your face.

When you wake up alone, your first instinct is to panic. You sit up with a start and check for any sign of Namjoon, but the ensuite door is wide open, and there is no sound coming from inside. The spot where he had slept is cold, and you begin to worry that it was all a dream and that he was never here at all.

Frantically, you begin to search for your phone, which is not on your bedside table where you usually keep it, feeling the overwhelming urge to cry take over. What happened last night, and why is there no trace of him to be found?

With a deep breath, you close your eyes and run over the events of the night. You came in and changed, then you messaged Namjoon to let him know you were going down to let him in. Vaguely, you remember tossing your phone to the bed, and you begin yanking at your comforter, desperate to find it.

Your phone must have been wrapped up in the bedding, because after only a moment of tussling and searching, you hear a nice loud thunk against the floor, at the foot of the bed. You let out an exasperated sigh and crawl to the edge, draping your body over the end as you reach and search for the device that has managed to find its way just under the bed frame.

As soon as it is in your hand, you turn on the screen, eager to find evidence of Namjoon's existence, with your torso suspended in air. As soon as you see a notification from two hours ago, you smile and wiggle backward into a seated position to properly read it.

Namjoon: Hey, sweetheart, I'm so sorry I left while you were still asleep. I tried to wake you, but you were out cold. I'll be visiting Yoongi this afternoon. If you want to come along and you see this before 2 PM, let me know. Otherwise, I hope to talk to you soon. Thank you for letting me in this morning; I slept better than I have in weeks. I love you.

Although affection blooms brightly in your chest, you feel sadness squeeze you tight, like an old friend. You do want to see Yoongi. You want to see him so badly, it hurts. But you are not sure you want to see him before he comes home. Wherever he is staying, and whatever state he may be in…you are not sure that you are prepared for that.

It is only 1:45 PM, so you decide to call Namjoon. Not only are you eager to hear his voice once more, but you are not eager to voice what is in your heart over text.

He picks up on the second ring, sounding a bit winded when he says, "Hey, sweetheart."

"Namjoon," you respond brightly, smiling widely. "Hey, I just woke up and saw your message."

"Ah," he responds, breathing heavily, "what time is it?" After a pause, he shouts, "Oh, shit, Gguk, I gotta go!"

You laugh as you hear them chatter lowly, then say their goodbyes, imagining how adorable Namjoon becomes when he is frantic—eyes wide and worried while he flails his muscular limbs around somewhat aimlessly.

"Gguek and I were working out," Namjoon says as you hear the sound of a door open and shut. "Lost track of time."

You smile, nibbling your lip. "Good thing I called."

"Good thing, indeed. So, did you—"

You don't mean to cut Namjoon off, but there is enough of a break between his statements, that you say, "Listen, Namjoon, I'm—" then halt, realizing you had spoken over him.

"Go on," Namjoon urges, and you close your eyes, listening to the sounds of his breathing, of birds singing around him, and of feet walking somewhat frantically down the dirt and gravel path between mansions.

"I don't think I can go," you finally say, feeling meek and embarrassed as your voice drops and comes out with a tremble. "It's just…I don't know what to expect, and it…it scares me."

Namjoon says nothing for a few moments, and it makes you worry. But then you hear him keying in the passcode to his home and let yourself breathe. He is probably too stressed to be multitasking while in a rush.

"Can I call you back? Or maybe we can talk about this later?" Namjoon finally asks, and you let out an even deeper sigh in relief. "I don't blame you at all for not wanting to come, but it feels like there is more you need to get off your chest. I have to take the fastest shower of my life, though, so that I can leave soon."

"Yeah, no…yeah. That's…" you stammer, squeezing your eyes closed and allowing yourself to smile while hot tears run from your eyes. Namjoon is so kind and understanding—so caring and giving. Affection burns for him, and you want to hug him so tight and never let him go. "If you want to tell Yoongi that we talked, I think it might make things easier for me later, but do whatever feels right…I don't know."

"I'll tell him what we discussed," Namjoon responds breathily as feet storm up a flight of stairs. "I know it'll make him happy to hear how you are doing, and how you have been handling things. I'm bringing him home in four days, so we can all sit down whenever you feel ready."

Four days is not soon enough, yet it feels like no time at all. Looming and terrifying, yet promising.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, Namjoon."

When Namjoon says, "I love you so much, sweetheart. Thank you for calling," your heart squeezes, and more tears fall, cascading like tiny waterfalls.

"I love you, Namjoon. Drive safe."

"Will do. Bye."

You mutter, "Bye," but your finger is already pressing the end call button, giving Namjoon all the time and space he needs to get ready. And then you hug your phone tight to your chest and continue to cry.

Somehow, the happy tears feel thicker and hotter than sad tears—more present and urgent. If Yoongi comes back in four days, that means it has been just over two weeks in Jimin's home. You heavy-blink in an attempt to conceptualize the time, feeling ashamed by how little of it you remember. Briefly, you worry that you may have imposed, but Jimin has never so much as hinted at that fact, so you allow yourself to let the idea go.

It is difficult, at times, to accept the many ways in which you are loved. It feels strange to look back on how you ended up tangled in this web, with these men. Part of you wishes you and Yoongi could start over—meet organically and fall together not because of proximity and a need to cure a deep, aching loneliness that had built over years, but because you simply want to.

But could you simply want to fall in love with the head of a crime syndicate? No, you think. Probably not.

Still, how do you explain that to someone who asks? I was kidnapped as collateral, but we fell in love feels like a story not too many people would understand. Probably, the average person would ask if you were alright and attempt to help you find refuge. Probably, they would be in their right mind to do so.

The next three days drag. Knowing that you will see Yoongi and Namjoon again soon has you a little on edge, but not necessarily in a bad way. Your dancing suffers for it, and you find your movements too stiff, too off-beat; your head and your heart are clouded, and you cannot seem to get your body to do anything. Still, you try. Wasting away drinking at Paradise does not feel like the best way to spend your lonely nights, but you want to wait for Yoongi's return before spending too much time with Namjoon.

Although the three of you have different bonds and dynamics, you almost feel guilty at the thought of hogging Namjoon to yourself while Yoongi is out healing in the countryside. Despite knowing he would tell you not to worry—to be with Namjoon and keep him company.

And, part of you thinks of this time as getting your last moments in with Jimin before moving out of his space. You have not voiced it, but you have been going out of your way to spend just a little more time with him after work, before the two of you crash for the morning and sleep, curled up on the couch with whichever anime he feels like playing in the background—currently, Chainsaw Man.

Jimin is phenomenal company, and you have really enjoyed following him around the house while he cooks, practices impromptu dance moves around furniture, and talks about nothing and everything. Even in quiet, still moments eating ice cream in the glow of the television, you feel the bond that has formed quickly and effortlessly, thankful to have a friend and ally on your side.

Despite the budding friendship, Jimin remains a somewhat secretive person. You have learned that his upbringing was privileged and full of wealth, but his parents were not kind about his desire to chase his own dreams instead of taking over the family business, and they quickly cut him off when he went to school for contemporary dance. It took no time at all for Jimin to wind up houseless, using his beauty to sleep with wealthy men and women for a meal and a warm bed.

When Yoongi's mother found Jimin on the streets, she took him in with the promise of a better life, but how he came to replace her is unknown. How long Jimin spent on the streets, the kinds of things he saw in that time…all of those details, he hides behind a bright, practiced smile, only given away by the sadness that pours from his beautiful, round eyes.

"I see myself in you, dove," Jimin says often, usually accompanied by a side hug or a kiss on the cheek.

And at first, it made you feel strange. Jimin has come so far that maybe, you had originally thought, he sees you as a pet project; someone who needs to be fixed and turned into something beautiful. But now, you know that is not true. You know that Jimin sees persistence and survival; he sees someone imperfect but caring who just needs a little push to understand and figure things out, at times.

Everything he has, he gained with persistence and survival; nothing was handed to him. Yoongi and his men, and possibly Yoongi's mother, taught Jimin the skills he knows today, that make him who he is. None of them became this successful alone; all seven of them play a crucial role. Eight, now, with you.

You feel sentimental tonight when you lean against the bar cradling a glass of whiskey that you have been nursing for the last hour. Tomorrow, Yoongi returns home, and although it has not been voiced aloud, you can tell that the prospect has Jimin and Jeongguk in a better mood. You even spot Seokjin, Hoseok, and Taehyung coming in and out of Paradise, and they all seem chipper.

Jimin is done up with pink and silver stage makeup, with his eyes and lips bright and shining. He wears his standard black satin top tucked into tight, leather black jeans, and tonight, he has a thick black rhinestone choker around his neck.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is pattern-clashing in a way that is both alluring and confusing. As standalone items, his silk, long-sleeve, plunging neckline leopard print shirt, and tight silver and blue floral lurex pants are solid choices. The shirt's neck falls nearly to his navel, showing beautiful topography of his chest—dips and hills of muscle and golden-tanned skin, accentuated by several mismatched gold necklaces; and the pants shine brightly in every light that dares grace his figure, drawing the eye to his muscular thighs and perky, round ass. But they look so strange and mismatched together, you cannot help but question what on earth he was thinking.

"You sure have a staring problem, tonight," Jeongguk chides as he walks by, sending an inviting wink that makes you laugh far too boisterously.

"Just trying to figure out what you have going on, here," you respond with an incredulous smirk. "Did you get dressed in the dark, Gguk?"

With a roll of his eyes, Jeongguk responds, "Both items are Dolce and Gabbana, but okay."

And, without missing a beat, you say, "Pretty sure Dolce and Gabbana also produce plain clothes that would match better than this. Your black satin shirts would look really good with those pants, and…well, anything else would look good with that shirt."

"I don't expect you to understand fashion," Jeongguk teases, raking his eyes over your form as he takes a step closer.

"Black, Jeongguk," you say, chin tilted high. "You have a closet full of black that would look phenomenal with both pieces."

With Jeongguk stepping into your personal space, that damned cologne hits you, and you begin to lose your composure. He really is suitable for smelling like a bouquet of wildflowers, especially with the spicy musk underneath; it is perfectly him.

"I don't expect someone in boring Vuitton rags to appreciate the nuance," Jeongguk teases, voice dropping lower as he towers before you.

"This dress costs as much as both that shirt and those pants combined," you bicker more quietly than before. The dress you wear tonight is certainly less flattering or flashy than what he wears—a Louis Vuitton brown and black knit mini dress with glitter thread mottling throughout. It has a square, rolled neckline and thin straps, but it hugs your curves nicely, falling mid-thigh. You raise your eyebrow to add, "Boss Min happens to like the way I look in Vuitton rags."

At the mention of Yoongi, Jeongguk softens, and you know you have won this round. Jeongguk scoffs, then slams back the rest of his drink, spinning on his shiny black leather boots before stomping off to where Hyejin and the dancers are congregated behind the main stage, going over something pertaining to the newly installed dance cages on either side of the bar, judging by how she points to them.

You watch as Jeongguk walks away, allowing your gaze to linger on how those gaudy, silver-blue pants shimmer when they hug his ass, thanking your lucky stars that his silly fashion sense has, at the very least, provided you with a good show.

When you turn back to the bar, you drink the rest of your whiskey and ask for another. The night is still young; the club has barely just opened and only a few patrons linger during the hours before the dancers take to the stages, but you have a feeling you are going to need to at least have a steady buzz to handle whatever bullshit Jeongguk is on.

Two hours into your night, you are proven correct during a very flirty conversation with Hyejin about the dance cages—about how she thinks you should make your Paradise debut in one, asking if you would ever let her handcuff you to the bars—when the bartender informs you that the boss would like to see you in his office.

Jimin seldom calls you to his office, but he is the only one who properly has one, so you head toward the back of the main room, past a security guard, and into a hallway that leads to Jimin's office, the dressing rooms for the dancers, and a meeting room that Hyejin and Jeongguk use when they need to.

As you make your way to the door, you can hear the sounds of dancers chattering and laughing coming down the hall, and you assume that Jeongguk must be giving them their nightly pep talk in one of the dressing rooms. You knock twice on the office door, then try the handle. To your surprise, when you enter, the room is empty.

Jimin has allowed you in his space alone plenty of times, so you make your way to have a seat in the leather armchair just in front of his desk. You decide to check your notifications while you wait and pull your phone from a small black purse that is slung over your shoulder.

The door opens and closes behind you, so you put the phone away before you have a chance to turn the screen on. And, instinctively, you stand to greet Jimin, surprised when you turn to find Jeongguk closing in, fast.

Before you have a chance to speak, Jeongguk has the armchair shoved away, caging you against Jimin's desk, leaning close and low with both of his hands gripping the wooden surface. You practically sit against the edge, doing your best to lean back and away from Jeongguk, but he is a persistent, towering presence, and he wastes no time dragging his lips over your neck, just below your ear, sending a rush of arousal tingling through you at the touch. The scent of his cologne has your senses simultaneously dulled and on high alert.

"Jeongguk," you gasp, attempting to twist away but finding you do not want him to stop. "We can't—"

"I know," Jeongguk responds, voice deep and silky, lips dipping lower, dragging across your throat and leaving only the faintest hint of a spit trail. "Just want to tease you a little; make you squirm."

"Why?" you breathe, leaning back to create more space.

When Jeongguk does not move, you lift your hands and press against his chest, attempting to push him back, but your palms slide on the silk shirt, and you wind up rubbing over his nipples, feeling metal under the drag of skin, causing Jeongguk to hiss as you gasp. Arousal builds and builds, and you squeeze your tights together, desperate to stave off the effect he has on you; you are, admittedly, touch-starved and somewhat feral.

"I know you feel it, too," Jeongguk practically groans, still leaning way too close, voice spoken beside your ear. "We have undeniable chemistry."

"Of course I feel it," you respond, closing your eyes in an attempt to get your bearings while your heart pounds dizzyingly fast.

Jeongguk asks, "Do you know how fucking hard it is to keep my hands off you?" in a tone that almost seems steeped in pain.

"Yes," you mutter softly, nodding shallowly. "I think I do."

With a sigh, Jeongguk finally takes a step back, but he stays close enough that you have to crane your neck; there is no room for you to stand away from the desk. The two of you stare at one another, and then Jeongguk scoffs and shakes his head.

"Seeing you around so much has been…god, you drive me insane."

You chuckle, though you feel somewhat awkward being faced with his admission. Although, truth be told, being in Jeongguk's proximity so much during the last few weeks has also made you want to see him more and more; you know that, once you return to your normal life, you will come to miss him a lot. Or, perhaps, you can continue spending time at Paradise; there is nothing saying you cannot.

"Last night, when I dropped you off," Jeongguk says, reaching up to gently cradle your chin in his hand, surprising you with his shift in demeanor, "were you crying?"

Although you glance away to respond, shyness rises, you nod slightly and say, "Yeah."

"Was it something I said?"

Quickly, you nod and return your gaze to Jeongguk, who looks genuinely concerned. "No. I was crying because I was missing Yoongi and Namjoon."

Jeongguk hums, drops his hand away, and takes a step back.

Suddenly, the silence feels heavy, and you struggle to identify his reaction. He very clearly knows your involvement with both men, so why tense up at the mention of them?

"What's the matter?" you ask, unwilling to let anything weird hang between you.

Jeongguk shrugs, but his eyes are on the floor, and it is clear that something is bothering him.

"Jeongguk," you insist.

He sighs, and, without looking at you, says, "It just sucks that when things become normal again with you guys…I just…it's been nice to see you here."

"Ah," you respond. And you get it; it has been great to be around here and see him, Jimin, and Hyejin regularly.

"But Yoongi will return and demand all your attention—" Jeongguk practically snarls, and you tut your tongue at him, staring incredulously as he balks at the interruption.

"Yoongi does not demand anything from me," you say, standing up straight now that there is some space between the two of you. You feel defensive, but you can understand where Jeongguk is coming from; you really have not had any independence since moving into the mansion, but part of that is not having any direction or much desire to venture out, finding comfort and safety behind the familiarity of those walls. "Honestly, I have been loving it here. It's nice to leave the house for no occasion and see other people. I consider Hyejin and Jimin friends, and it has been so great having friends again. I don't want to suddenly stop seeing them. Or you."

"Won't you have your hands full with both of your boyfriends?" Jeongguk teases, and you are glad to see his mood has at least somewhat lightened; his smile has returned, even if his gaze remains sad.

"Oh they definitely know how to keep my hands full," you respond with a wink, watching as Jeongguk's eyes and mouth widen comically. "But it is also nice having some space. Although I hate how all of this came about, I think taking a step back and allowing myself to really miss them and think about the many facets of our relationship has been important. I needed it."

"So I might actually see you from time to time?" Jeongguk asks, stepping close once more, seeming hopeful. It still amuses you when Jeongguk is all soft edges after so much time spent bickering with one another.

This time, you step in close and rub your palms over his chest, making sure to drag your hands over his pierced nipples, smiling when he shivers beneath your touch.

"We still have to finish what we started in Hong Kong," you say, voice dropped low and intentionally sultry. "I just haven't wanted to do anything without the others present…we haven't really discussed that, and I would feel too guilty leaving them out."

"I understand," Jeongguk responds, leaning into your touch and surprising you with a very soft, very chaste kiss on the lips before he mutters, "Taehyung will fucking kill me if we do anything without him."

Warmth floods your cheeks, and you drop your hands while taking a step back. Even after such a tiny taste, the urge to kiss Jeongguk is too great to stay in such close proximity.

"We're going to have an entire audience, huh?" you ask, feeling more turned on by the prospect than shy.

Jeongguk chuckles and says, "Sounds like we will."

It almost feels surreal to discuss the topic of you and Jeongguk having sex so openly. Although you have had enough whiskey to give you a steady buzz, you are still clear-headed enough to spiral just a little over the thought of his body, and having it all to yourself. That is, unless the others want to play, as well; you really have no idea what to expect, and you are not certain you would deny them if they wanted to.

As you search for a way to end this conversation and return to the main bar before someone begins to notice the two of you are missing, Jimin comes barging in with his brows knit. Although you have done nothing wrong, there is a split moment of panic over how this may look, with the two of you in Jimin's office alone.

But he simply glances between you and Jeongguk, huffs out a sigh, and says, "Oh, thank god. I was hoping to find you two in here."

"What's up?" Jeongguk asks, and you straighten out, worried that something may be wrong.

"One of the regulars came in piss drunk and started harassing Hyejin. He groped her ass and when she slapped him, he got in her face. Security was able to intervene, but I need you to take him out back and fuck him up. Let him know shit like that doesn't fly at Boss Min's lovely establishment."

Anger spikes heavily in your chest, and when Jimin turns to you and adds, "Dove, if you don't mind, I think she could use a friend," you nod, determined to do whatever it takes to make Hyejin feel safe.

"On it," you say, walking past the men, down the short hallway, and out into the bar.

Loud R&B music with a quick, enticing trap beat plays, and you stomp in your overpriced patent leather chelsea boots to the beat, storming into the main bar room like you own the joint and scanning the room for your girl.

Standing at the main bar with her arms pulled tightly over her chest, is Hyejin surrounded by dancers. As soon as you approach, a girl who goes by Lily backs up and opens her arm wide to welcome you into the space. Hyejin is shaking when you drape your arm around her, hugging it loosely across her chest.

"Hey, beautiful," you say, and she turns and melts into you, throwing her arms over your shoulders and letting out a deep sigh. "Want to go out back and have a smoke?"

Hyejin hugs you tight and shakes her head, and you rub your hands over her back, waiting for her response. The dancers begin trickling out, having to get ready to perform, leaving pats on your and Hyejin's backs and soft words of support and encouragement. Once there is more space for her to breathe, Hyejin stands up straight and lets out another deep breath.

She is not crying, though her eyes are red, and when she looks at you with a frown, you gently place your hands at her temples and thumb at the smudged mascara under her eyes before muttering, "Perfect," with a grin.

"I hate men," Hyejin says with a fake snarl, and you roll your eyes and nod dramatically, making her giggle.

"Wanna talk about it?" you ask, and Hyejin shakes her head and says, "No. I want to dance."

Sitting on the bar is a half-empty pint of something bright blue, and Hyejin chugs it back, then leaves the empty glass behind and takes your hand, dragging you to one of the dance cages. The floor of the cage is raised about three feet from the ground and is a glowing octagon of rainbow color. Hyejin, wearing only a black satin bodysuit with lace trim and black stiletto heels, walks around to the back of the cage, closest to the nearby wall, and opens a door that blends in with the bars, then she takes a step up and hoists herself onto the platform.

You follow behind and step up and into the cage, moving to the other side of the space to allow Hyejin to close the door. Although you are no stranger to dancing in sight of others, being in an elevated cage has your nerves spiked, and you wish you had taken a shot or three at the bar before agreeing to follow her.

Hyejin wastes no time closing in on you with her fists around bars on either side of your head, and she holds on as she drops her hips low and swishes back up, all the while keeping her eyes on you. You sway to the beat with slower movements than the ones you watch Hyejin make, feeling entranced by her beauty and struggling to actually move the way she does.

"Are you shy?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow, and you chuckle, letting go of some of your anxiety while you nod and mutter, "A little."

Hyejin spins with her arms still lifted, and wraps them over your shoulders, then dips down again, rubbing her ass against your thighs before standing up straight. You realize too late that you are frozen in place with your arms somewhat bent, like a Barbie doll, and Hyejin turns and immediately starts to laugh, bending and flinging her hair in front of her face.

"I'm not apologizing for who I am," you whine as you join her in laughing, feeling embarrassed by your inability to act like a normal person around her.

"I would never dream of asking you to," Hyejin says as she leans back against the bars across from you, swaying her hips with an amused grin. "But it is very cute how flustered you get."

You roll your eyes and smile, glad to at least be considered cute. Flirting and being flirted with is hardly an issue, and you would probably relax more around her if things were not so uncertain at the moment, in your love life. You are sure Yoongi and Namjoon would not mind, but it is a conversation you would like to have before you allow yourself to get carried away.

Or, perhaps, there is nothing to allow. Probably, there is no way in which things could get carried away, but you are once again spiraling because Jeongguk has gotten under your skin. With a deep inhale, you remind yourself that Hyejin is likely just being friendly and that you are allowed to relax and have fun with her.

So have fun, you do. The song changes to something with more of a club beat, and Hyejin begins to pump her hands in front of her chest while shaking her ass in overexaggerated movements, gyrating in a chaotic circle. With your hands pulled over your head, you begin doing some wiggle-shake move creating waves all the way down to your legs, laughing as Hyejin throws her hands over her head in an attempt to do the same.

"What do you call this one?" She shouts over the music, and you shake your head and say, "I don't know! The overcooked noodle?"

Hyejin practically throws her body against yours with laughter, and you trip backward, catching yourself with a hand on one of the bars to lessen your collision. There are definitely patrons behind you who have a view of whatever it is the two of you are doing, and you try not to feel too embarrassed.

"Yah," Jeongguk calls, making you attempt to turn around, trapped in place by a hysterical Hyejin. He rounds the platform enough to come into view and grabs onto two of the bars as he teasingly says, "You girls are gonna scare away the customers."

You raise one hand toward him as if threatening to strike him, shouting, "Oh, shut u—" but the word dies as soon as your eyes fall to Jeongguk's knuckles, which are scraped and bloodied.

"Jeongguk, what the fuck?" you ask, reaching for the nearest hand, which he slides away.

Hyejin stands alert, then squats to be at eye-level with Jeongguk, and you fully turn, checking to make sure he has no other cuts or bruises, glad that he seems otherwise perfectly fine.

"Relax," Jeongguk grumbles, tonguing the inside of his mouth while he cracks the knuckles of one fist against his palm, then switches to the other side. "This is nothing; scuff marks. That guy didn't land a single punch before he was lights out."

You sigh but accept that there is nothing you would be able to do to convince Jeongguk not to fuck someone up. It is, after all, something he has likely been trained to do and is celebrated for within the ranks of the family. Still, you hate to see his pretty hands bloodied.

"Well, you know I don't condone violence," Hyejin says, reaching her hands between two bars, smiling when Jeongguk steps closer and allows her to grab onto his wrists. "But I really appreciate you sticking up for me."

"Of course," Jeongguk grumbles, smiling the soft smile that he does when he is attempting to hide the sweetness that festers inside him, threatening to burst. Cute.

With a sigh, Hyejin lifts the wrist that Jeongguk wears his watch on, yanking it close while tilting her head to get a look. "I should go tend to the girls," she grumbles, releasing Jeongguk and standing to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You follow Hyejin's movements, watching which bars are part of the door, nervous that they blend in well enough and that you could be trapped in this cage for the rest of eternity, then you turn back to Jeongguk, who has two hands on two bars, and is staring up at you.

"So," he says, stretching himself tall to speak to you, arching his back and tipping his chin upward. "I was wondering…"

Since you are already in the cage, and Jeongguk had already been a menace to your health and well-being earlier, you decide to take a page out of Hyejin's book and swish your body in an inviting wave as you squat, dragging your hands down the bars but keeping them lifted above your head.

Jeongguk visibly swallows, losing what he was just in the process of saying, and you watch as his eyes trail to where your short skirt hugs your thighs, undoubtedly giving him a view of the black panties you wear underneath. And although you do not mind letting Jeongguk sneak a peek, you are glad that the lights are fairly dim in the club.

"What was that?" you ask, tilting your head to the side and giving a look that feigns innocence.

The expression on Jeongguk's face flashes comically from needy to pained to frustrated, and he huffs out a sigh, shaking his head as if trying to rattle his thoughts free.

"What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me, is that we should have dinner soon."

Jeongguk's offer takes a moment to compute, and you stare at him, heavy-blinking, trying to determine whether he is asking you on a date, or if we means more than just the two of you.

"We, as in…"

"You, me, and our men."

"Ah," you respond; that makes sense. "Yeah, we should. That would be fun."

Jeongguk nods, letting his gaze fall once more to your legs before drifting slowly back to your face. "I'll talk to Taehyungah. Perhaps he can host, and I'll cook."

With an incredulous raise of your brow you ask, "Oh, you cook?" in a mocking tone of sheer disbelief.

Jeongguk reaches up and holds his hands over yours, gripping firmly while he leans in, head between the bars and close. From here, you smell his cologne; from here you resist the urge to lean in close and kiss him.

"I happen to be an excellent cook, dollface."

"Is that so?" you ask, voice much less confident than a moment ago.

"That is so," Jeongguk says, then he leans in somehow even closer, making your head spin. "So, it's a date?"

"Yeah," you respond, feeling your heart go wild behind your ribs. "It's a date."

What you did to me made me see the world differently Mis lágrimas se secan solos, solos Pues mírame a los ojos Dime si ves el vacío que deja amor perdido Yo no duermo hasta que mis sueño' están cumplidos Sé que estoy perdiendo, pero el juеgo no ha concluido

🎵 visit the playlist

ahhhh!!! how are we feeling??? i presonally really love this chapter. the next one containing the promised smut™ is coming very, very soon!!!! i promise. i was sad to leave Yoongi out of this chapter, and it was not my intention to have a full chapter without him, but it made sense to split the mega chapter this way, and it felt wrong to rush him back without mc taking time to sort her thoughts out and attempt to gain some independence.

thank you for reading!!! ��💜💜 reblogs and comments make the world go 'round, and likes are nice too!!!

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nervouscupcakeinspace · 8 months

Text

BTS FIC RECS (PART 10)

Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope

blood orange by seokabunny *

“We should’ve held you off from it longer, huh? You got to it so early. Everyone else had to wait.” Hoseok’s voice is buzzing warm and sweet in his ear. “Taehyung and Jimin were twenty-three. Jin-hyung was twenty-seven for his first time.” Jungkook’s drooling, slack-mouthed over the hinge of Hoseok’s shoulder. He can smell the dried sweat all over his pretty, tanned skin. “Hyuuung—” “You were twenty-one, baby. None of the others got it that young.”

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Namjoon | RM

baby by feraljk *

Jungkook wanted Namjoon to be his leader for life—not just on stage, not just at work, not just anything. Every day, every hour, every minute, he wanted Namjoon to be his sun.

begotten by macabre

Jeongguk was ready to start his family. With or without the man of his dreams.

soft skin, soft eyes by babiestbat *

Yoongi hums, tilting his head. “I bet Jungkook would be up for it,” he considers, swirling the rest of his whiskey around in his glass. “He’s really into being eaten out.” Namjoon’s glass slips out of his hand. Thankfully, he’s sitting on the floor, and the glass just bounces a little before settling. “What?” he says. Yoongi laughs brightly, gums on display. “Aish, don’t look at me like that. He likes it a lot! And you know he thinks you’re hot,” he goes on. (Namjoon does not know that, and he feels faint at the thought.) “He’s already seen you at your worst, you could sneeze into him and I’m pretty sure he’d just laugh it off. He’s a perfect first, too. He likes just about everything.” *** Namjoon's never eaten someone out. Yoongi knows the perfect candidate.

Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga

HGU by sseoltangie (WIP) *

Disaster strikes and as a consequence, Jungkook lands himself in prison. But he's tough—all he has to do is survive the next months. At least that's what he thinks. Until he becomes the cellmate of attempted murder convict Yoongi.

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin

Come feed the rain by vminkookminv

Jungkook gets teased by his classmates a lot for being a pissbaby. Jimin finds out why.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM

Lost in the Lights by mangust_d

Alphas around the world are losing their knots due to a mysterious illness. Hoseok convinces Namjoon to try one last thing before he succumbs to a sad, knotless life: visiting an alphas-only club.

Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga

Divine and Raw by anon1792 *

It starts, as these things are wont to, with an offhand comment. Yoongi, in Namjoon’s old don’t be a prick cactus sweatshirt from an adolescent trip to the US with its stretched loose wrist-holes pushed up to reveal his pink elbows, half asleep and half scrolling through his phone while Namjoon works on his dissertation, mumbles, “If you get tested tomorrow, I’ll let you raw me.” Namjoon stumbles and slams his chin so hard into the coffee table, he sees stars.

If Nice Guys Finish Last, Meet Me in the Back by NinjasWearSneakers *

Namjoon has been secretly in love with his best friend Yoongi for years, so he’s familiar with the pain of watching him date other people. Now, Yoongi is getting married, and Namjoon is his best man, so he’s been trying very hard to prepare himself for the pain of that whole ordeal. However, something much more painful happens instead, leaving Namjoon to try to help Yoongi pick up the pieces.

Just Got the Taste For It by deepslowpanic *

“Maybe that guy just wasn’t your type, Namjoon,” Yoongi says after a few moments of quiet, That could be true. The guy was cute, but he wasn’t exactly what Namjoon thinks he’s looking for. Though he’s not entirely sure what that is, not sure about his type, or quite how to figure it out. “Thanks, hyung.” “Of course,” Yoongi says. “I’m here to guide you on your baby bi journey. I’m like your spiritual guide.” Namjoon snorts. “To what?” “The prostate, obviously.” -OR- Newly out as bisexual, Namjoon is trying to figure out his type and exactly what he’s looking for. But every interaction with his (kind, patient, pretty) roommate pushes Namjoon closer to thinking he might already know…

whoopsie daisy, never knew that was your boo, baby by rayfelle *

Not knowing how to respond to this sudden possible courting situation, Seokjin shuffles away to continue his shopping. Was it a courting gift? Seokjin has never met the human man, but it’s not like that matters much to wolves. Do humans operate the same way? But the human offered him food, which points towards courtship. Once back home Seokjin tries to google his questions, like his coworkers often recommend he does. Google, sadly, does not help at all. (or: a human starts courting Seokjin in the middle of a supermarket - he is determined to do his very best in return while Yoongi has no idea what he has just started)

Garden of Eden by sseoltangie

"But how can we…" Yoongi continued, whispering, scared to burst the bubble, scared Namjoon would leave as soon as he’d spoken the words. “When we’re both omegas.”

Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga

driving getaway by silklace

“I’m not upset.” Seokjin nods. “I can tell by the way your face is all red. And blotchy.”

is this love? by sweetbubble3

four months after breaking up, yoongi logs into his and jin’s stardew valley co-op farm only to find that jin has been playing without him.

love you snow much by caprikoya *

Seokjin stomps into the chalet and shucks off his coat and boots at the door, cheeks and nose burning with the cold. When he throws open the door to the bedroom, Yoongi sits up from where he’s still cocooned in the duvet on the bed. “Did you win?” He asks, blinking blearily at Seokjin with his eyes still puffy from sleep. Seokjin doesn’t answer, because Yoongi knows that solo snowboarding is not a sport that you can win at, and is just being a little shit. Seokjin’s heart swells– he’d missed Yoongi having the energy to be annoying. To show his affection, he climbs onto the bed and sticks his freezing hands down the back of Yoongi’s shirt. Yoongi shrieks like some kind of bird of prey, and then promptly bites Seokjin on the arm. -or- After a long busy period at work keeps them away from each other, Seokjin and Yoongi take a vacation.

SEALed With a Kiss by deepslowpanic (WIP) *

“We’re mates,” Yoongi says simply. “We’re married now, you put my coat around me. Now you’re my husband.” “I -” Seokjin cuts himself off. He feels insane, all of this is insane. It doesn’t make sense, there’s no way Seokjin is suddenly married to a - a - seal? “That’s not how human marriage works,” Seokjin says finally, voice cracking a little. “You can’t just say we’re married.” “Why not?” Yoongi does not seem deterred at all. “That doesn’t matter. Humans are stupid anyway. But you’re hot and you smell nice. You’ll be a good mate. With your broad shoulders, your swimming abilities must be admirable. And you can fish, a provider.” He nods, as if this is all settled. “So you’re my husband.” -OR- Burned out from work, famous YouTube chef Seokjin heads to winter-quiet Jeju to escape for a while. His only goals are to relax, and try to find his spark again. When he rescues a naked man on the beach, Seokjin couldn’t have predicted what he was in for. But an accidentally acquired husband in the form of soft, impish selkie Yoongi might be just what Seokjin needs.

Big things come in small packages by teamkimseokjin (closetfairy) *

Seokjin discovers a new kink when he sees Yoongi rubbing his little round belly after a big meal. Okay, so maybe it's a little more than just a kink..

somebody does love (but i'm thinking `bout min yoongi) by missandrogyny *

One thing that Seokjin’s learned after knowing Yoongi for so long is that if he doesn’t want to talk about it, he really doesn’t want to talk about it, and he’ll do anything and everything to dodge the conversation. It’s why it’s so frustrating to deal with him sometimes; he never wants to talk about things, and if Seokjin’s being honest, he too doesn’t want to talk about things, which means that it’s highly possible for the both of them to just exist beautifully in Not-Talking-About-Things harmony. Hoseok and Namjoon have told them repeatedly that it isn’t healthy or mature for them to be acting like this, which is why Seokjin, being the older one, is out here trying his best. But Yoongi is stubborn on good days and a downright pain in the ass on bad ones, and after three more times shooting down Seokjin’s attempts to talk about it, Seokjin decides to do what any self-respecting man would: He talks to his girlfriend about it. (Or: College AU where Yoongi writes an unhinged pining song, and Seokjin just can't get it out of his head.)

Kim Taehyung | V/Min Yoongi | Suga

i wish you would by lessisabore

alone in his mountain cave, a dragon pines for his human ex-boyfriend

POLY RELATIONSHIPS

OT7 - Relationship

count on me by yeoboluvr

scoring highly on the submissive rating was supposed to guarantee a life of being dommed and pampered. for jungkook, it meant suppressing his instincts, fighting his body, and hiding from his hyungs.

Echoless City by mangust_d (WIP) *

On the same fateful night, Yoongi goes missing during a covert operation, and an injured hybrid is found fleeing from his handlers. Compassion is a luxury afforded to few, but who could resist a bunny in distress? OR: The story of how Seokjin tried to carry the entire world on his broad shoulders and failed miserably.

wisteria by feraljk (WIP) *

Hoseok had gone through four foster packs in the past twenty-two months, and, with two months before he would be sent away for good, he was being given to a fifth. He tried his best to not go soft when he knew it would all be taken away, but even a feral omega latches on to the feeling of home.

Lost Under the Moonlight by ArianneMaya (WIP) *

After being accused of something he didn’t do, Jimin discovers he’s a wolf shifter and is put into the Shifter Reintegration Program. On paper, the program is intended to give ‘unconscious shifters’ in the carceral system a chance at a better, healthier life. In practice, for an unpresented omega like Jimin, it means being handed over to a pack who wants to bitch him. No matter what the program entails, the Bangtan pack wants a new packmate, not a slave. And after running his whole life, Jimin might just find somewhere to call home. That is if he can bring himself to trust them.

dwell by macabre (WIP) *

The pit was the worst prison alphas could be sent to. It was a place to die with no hope, no dreams, no sun. Just a pit so deep in the earth it might as well be hell. Then, an omega is sent down as a prisoner. For the first time ever. Into an ecosystem already designed to eat itself alive.

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga

daffodils by feraljk (WIP)

Some submissives could live by themselves, could take care of their own spacing and dropping and eating and everything else, but Jungkook - he wasn’t like that. He was weak, his family had always told him so. And now, breaking down in front of a strange dom in a bathroom while he was at work, he’d proved them right.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga

You Really Float My Boat by deepslowpanic

“Hoseok-ah? Yoongi whips his head to the side, staring at his husband in confusion. “What?” “Hi, Seokjin hyung,” Hoseok says, voice sweet as honey. “Hi, Yoongi hyung.” “Hello Seok-ah,” Yoongi rasps. When he turns his head, Seokjin is staring at him. “You know Hoseok?” Seokjin asks. Yoongi nods. “I know Hoseok.” he blinks. “You know Hoseok?” Seokjin nods back. Huh. “Wow!” Hoseok gasps, clapping his hands together. “This is so strange! Who would have thought my ex-boyfriends would have ended up married?” -OR- When Yoongi agrees to go on a cruise with his husband, he doesn’t expect to run into his ex-boyfriend. And he definitely doesn’t expect to find out Seokjin dated him too. Shared memories bring up forgotten feelings, and maybe a vacation is the perfect time to let loose.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin

only two people by silklace *

Jimin looks up at him. That is, Jimin looks over him. All over him. When his gaze lands on Hoseok’s face, his expression stretches into something annoyed even with all that heat in his looking. “What.” “C’mon.” Jimin swallows. “Come shower with me, baby.” Jimin scratches at the back of his neck. He’s still gripping his phone in his other hand. “Yoonji know you call me that?” It’s not really a question though, not when Jimin knows the answer.

Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin

can't look away by eron_less

When Namjoon video calls the guy he's been seeing late one night, he's not expecting to find the guy's best friend in bed with him. Turns out, he's kind of into it.

(* Personal favorites)

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 1

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 2

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 3

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 4

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 5

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 6

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 7

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 8

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 9

#bts fic rec #bts ot7 #hopekook #namkook #yoonkook #namseok #jikook #namgi #yoonjin #taegi #bts poly #fic recs #my fic recs #bts #mine

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trancyzp · 9 months

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ʚ nosso encontro ɞ

・04/08/23・doada para taeluminado [doação]

#capa para social spirit #capa para fanfic #capa de fanfic #capa para spirit #capa para fic #capa colagem #colagem #capa de spirit #design com colagem #yoongi #namjoon #namgi #trancyz #2023

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incorrectnamgi · 11 months

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Pre debut namgi be like:

Namjoon : *Gets down on one knee*

Yoongi: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Namjoon : *Falls over*

Yoongi: The poison is kicking in.

#incorrect bts #incorrect namgi #bts #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x min yoongi #min yoongi #namgi #suga #namgi fic #agustd #rm #rm x suga #namgi au #yoonjoon #sugamon

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elleomoonchild · 10 months

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Fevered Honey - a Namgi omegaverse AU

Namjoon was tired of spending his heats alone, but he didn’t have much luck attracting alphas. Maybe it was his ‘bigger than omega average’ size or his overly sweet scent or naturally shy demeanor, but Namjoon just hadn’t found the connection he’d always craved with an alpha. But as he got older his heats became more unbearable to deal with alone…

Which was how he found himself at the city's most luxurious and exclusive heat/rut hotel…being taken care of by the alpha of his dreams.

Min Yoongi was a smaller alpha, with a cute face and intense eyes. A deep voice and big hands and heavy scent that left Namjoon feeling dizzy. He was the perfect choice for a heat partner…but as Yoongi treats Namjoon like he’s always wanted the omega will find it hard to separate his heart from what is meant to be only a business transaction.

#namgi #bts namgi #omega namjoon #alpha yoongi #omegaverse #bts omegaverse au #ao3 fanfic #Namgi ao3 #namgi fic

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crystalsnow95z · 9 months

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Sickie: Namjoon with stomach flu (vomit, fever)

Caretaker; mostly Yoongi and Jin

"Let's do one more run-through before the real thing tomorrow." J-hope's voice echos in the empty stadium. Namjoon was still trying to catch his breath from them doing idol, deciding where they would gather to do the chorus.

"Namjoon-ah are you okay?" Jin asks, rubbing the back of the rapper's neck. "You want some water? You seem really tired today."

Namjoon takes the water gratefully. "Yeah, I'm still jet lagged, that's all. I'll be fine by tomorrow. I'll just go to bed early tonight."

Namjoon struggles through the choreography, feeling nauseated. (I should've eaten something on the plane..) He was glad they weren't taking it seriously. Only trying to get the positions correctly, his smaller movements going unnoticed.

"Well done, everyone!" J-hope bows to the backup dancers, the other members doing the same, except for Namjoon who only bows his head.

"Are you okay, Joon-ah?" Yoongi asks. "You're looking pale."

"Yeah, I just need to eat. My stomach hurts." Namjoon rubs his gurgling stomach. "I didn't eat much before we left Korea, and I didn't eat on the plane."

"We'll eat soon. I'll ask staff to order us something while we're on our way." Yoongi leads Namjoon to one of the cars.

"What's wrong with Namjoonie hyung?" Jungkook asks when he notices Yoongi leading him.

"He did the practice on an empty stomach." Yoongi answers for him while Namjoon yawns.

"Aigoo, practicing on an empty stomach is the worst. Do you want to chew on some gum? It helps my stomach when I'm hungry." Taehyung takes out the some gum from his bag. He had made a habit of packing it when they travel to keep his ears from popping on planes and to have something on lengthy practice days.

Namjoon takes it, the mint gum helping to soothe his sour stomach. "That's actually a lot better, thanks."

Taehyung smiles. "No problem, hyung."

Back at the hotel, they all gathered in Namjoon's hotel room to eat, practicing their French for the upcoming concert.

"merci army.." J-hope does a fake head bow to the imaginary crowd, filling his stomach with local cuisine.

"Merci beaucoup." Taehyung makes a cheek heart.

"What's bea..ucoup..?" Jungkook asks.

"It's kinda just.. a more grateful, bigger thank you." Taehyung explains the best he can.

"You're just trying to show off your French skills." Jungkook pushed his shoulder playfully.

"I'm not." Taehyung says taking another bite of food.

Namjoon only ate about half as everyone else, but no one seemed to notice. He was sure to grab a piece of meat when Yoongi or Jin looked at him popping a piece in his mouth.

His stomach started to ache again after eating. (It might just be that I'm not used to the food, and it's on the greasy side.) Namjoon lies to himself. He couldn't admit he was sick. Not when he had three concerts to do.

"How do you say make some noise? Do you know?" Yoongi asks Taehyung.

"Ah.. I don't know.." Taehyung looks it up on his phone.

"faites du bruit."

The phone speaks in a robotic voice. Taehyung plays it again before trying to mimic it, Yoongi joining in.

While the others were distracted, Namjoon took his chance to go to the bathroom, his stomach trying to urgently push out his dinner, mouth pooling with sick.

He quickly turns on the sink to try to cover up the sound, gagging as quietly as he could into the tolietbowl, holding it tightly as another mouthful of mush splashes into the water.

Namjoon continued to try to handle the situation on his own, despite his desperate desire for Jin to rub his back or Yoongi to encourage him it'll be over soon.

When Namjoon finally finishes, he feels shaky on his feet. (That was awful..) He groans softly holding his sore abdomen, brushing his teeth to get the taste out of his mouth.

"Namjoon-ah." He heard the voice of Jungkook from the other side of the door. "Are you finished? I really need to use the bathroom.

"Uh..yeah, one second." (Sh*t..) Namjoon quickly flushed the toliet, opening the door for Jungkook, hoping the air vent got rid of enough of the sickly scent in the air.

Namjoon spits into the sink. "All yours Kook." He leaves to sit back by J-hope contemplating how he'd get the six out of his room so he could lay down without making them suspicious.

"Namjoon-ah you look pale, are you okay?" J-hope reaches for Namjoon, touching his forehead.

"I'll be fine. I'm just tired. We practiced for hours after a 11 hour flight.. We should all get to bed early." He tried the direct approach first.

"It's only 9:30." Jungkook points out with a pout.

"It'll take you at least an hour after laying down to go to sleep." Jin counters. "At least go lay down in your room."

"I'm tired too." Yoongi states with wide mouth yawn.

Jungkook doesn't argue, gathering his stuff. "Alright, hyung. I'll go to my room."

Everyone gathers their things to leave, going to their rooms, except Yoongi.

"Namjoon-ah here." Yoongi shoves a twin pack of medicine bottles into his hand one for day and one for night. "I asked staff to buy this for you.."

"Flu medicine? But i said-"

"Namjoon-ah I've known you for years. Cut the bullsh*t. I know you aren't feeling well, and your excuses won't work on me. Just take it."

Namjoon smiles softly. "Alright.. thank you Yoonie-hyung.."

"You need to tell me and Hoba if you're feeling up to this tomorrow. Don't try to push yourself harder than you can handle. Okay? We can figure this out together. Don't try to handle it all on your own." Yoongi squeezes Namjoon's shoulder.

"I just don't want to disappoint army. It's been five years since we performed here.." Namjoon couldn't promise he wouldn't try anyway, and thankfully Yoongi didn't ask him to.

Namjoon felt better after taking the medicine Yoongi gave him last night. He still felt nauseous when he moved, but it didn't feel like he needed to vomit. The stage check went perfectly, and he managed to convince Yoongi that he was fine. "I can do this.." He whispers to himself as he changes outfits, loosening the belt so it doesn't add pressure to his bloated middle.

"Is everyone ready?" Namjoon asks, rallying up the members. "Let's put on a good show.." He places his hand in the center, the boys hyping themselves up with their chant.

Yoongi led them to the lifts where they would appear, going right into Fire as soon as they reached the stage.

J-hope squeezes Namjoon's hand, wondering if Yoongi told him about last night or if he was suffering from nerves. (We can do this..)

As soon as the stage lights hit him and he started moving to the choreography, he felt like he was actually on fire, feeling his head spin, his jump slower than the other by a mere half second.

The crowd didn't notice that he messed up, but he knew J-hope did, but instead of his usual strict choreography leader look, it was with concern. (I'm sorry..) Namjoon mouthed the word.

As they switched into the next song the painful sloshing in his stomach worsened, relieved that he was holding a mic instead of having a headset to keep his wet burps from being heard. His body was starting to ache, his movements coming out stiff.

(One more song, then we'll do an introduction and change outfits, i just have to hold it until then..)

Namjoon's voice cracks when it comes to his verse, a painful ripple across his stomach making it hard to keep his voice under control. (Sh*t..I can't keep messing up..) Namjoon's guilt just made his stomach knot, amplifying the pain.

He felt his stomach lurch, pushing up the salad he had for breakfast, so he had at least something in his system. He swallows it back down, grimacing at the foul taste as it slides back down. (Not here.. please not here..)

Namjoon felt worse as he continued, already drenched in sweat without even being halfway through the concert. He pushed himself harder just to keep up with the others.(I need to take some more medicine..) the only thing that kept him going was the fans chanting his name..

"1..2..3.." Namjoon bows with the others, saying their hellos, working their way down the line.

"Hyung, you're already soaked in sweat, slow down.." Jimin whispers to him.

"I will..The next songs are slower. I'll be fine.."

Namjoon was far from fine.

(My head is splitting..) Namjoon swayed as he walked around the stage, unable to bring himself to bounce around like the others. Yoongi went up to him, hugging him from behind. "Namjoon you need to go off stage.. You're getting worse.."

Namjoon shakes his head, not thinking rationally. His mind was set on one thing and one thing only. Not disappointing the fans who screamed loudly for him when he sang his verse.

"You need to stop, i shouldn't have let you perform tonight." Yoongi tells him in a stern tone, like a father scolding theit child, mixed with worry."I mean it, Namjoon. Get off the stage. Now." Yoongi turns him to face the steps. (He's not looking well at all.. he's gonna vomit. I know it..)

Namjoon's eyes widen at Yoongi's tone, mistaking it for anger. He usually understood thats just the way he talked, but his mind was clouded from his rising fever. The movement made his stomach churn violently. Namjoon tried to calmly walk off stage, afraid if he moved too fast, he'd lose his breakfast in front of everyone. Seeing him leaving, Yoongi gets back to the song, just barely making it to his part before j-hope finishes his line.

Namjoon felt another wet burp come, the hot sick burning his throat as he runs off the stage swallowing it down once more, looking for anywhere that he could be sick in, but when he goes to the steps to leave the stage, his stomach had other plans, burping up its contents before he even got down two steps.

Yoongi quickly grabs his waist to keep him from falling forward, the pressure setting off Namjoon's stomach once more, spraying green all over the steps. (Fu*k.. sh*t.. I need to get him somewhere private..) Yoongi pulls Namjoon's arm around him, leaning heavily on the railing as he steps down, careful not to slip on the soiled stairs. He could feel the heat coming off of his body.

"Namjoon-ah you're an idiot, why did you continue when you were this sick? You told me you were okay.." Yoongi's scolding came out as a soft whine, feeling guilt for not telling the others. "I need help.. Namjoon got sick on the stairs.." Yoongi calls for help, several staff members coming to his call when they see Namjoon heaving they scatter to find a bin.

(I'm gonna be sick again..) Namjoon clamps his hand over his mouth, trying to stop himself from coloring the floor with more sick. (My heads spinning.. I don't even think I can stay sitting..)

Yoongi grips Namjoon tightly by the shoulder when he feels him falling forward. "I got you..I got you..it's alright Joon, if you make a mess, you make a mess. No one will care. I'll clean it up myself if I have to." Yoongi could feel Namjoon's spine tensing underneath his gentle rubs.

When he hears J-hope singing his verse the guilt sent his stomach over the edge, the sick coming out, dripping down his hand and into his lap.

"Just let it up Namjoon-ah, you'll feel better if you stop fighting it.." Yoongi grabs Namjoons wrist to move his hand from his face.

A staff member places a bin in Namjoon's lap. The sick rapper finally stop fighting it a proper place to throw up in, body trembling as it pushed out everything it had.

"I need water and some towels, please?" Yoongi asks, still holding the wrist of Namjoon.

"We can take care of him while you perform." The staff member offers.

"Yoongi go..I'll be okay.." Namjoon knew he'd regret it if he kept Yoongi down with him, making them two members short.

"I'll go back up after the VCR clip. Let me at least clean you up.. and I need to wait for the stairs to be clean anyway.." Yoongi takes the towel staff brought him, wetting it with the water bottle and wiping off Namjoon's hand, ignoring his stomach clenching. "You're so gross right now.."

"I'm sor..rupp..!" Namjoon's words were caught off by another mouthful of sick.

"I said it's fine. Don't apologize." Yoongi folds the towel up so the dirty side is folded in placing it on the floor. Yoongi lightly scratches down Namjoon's back.

The other members rush down as soon as the lights cut out on stage, searching for the two missing rappers.

"Is Joon okay?" Jin asks, rushing over to him.

"I don't think he can perform tonight.." Yoongi replies, moving away so Jin could take over. "The rap medley is next.. Jungkook-ah, Taehyung-ah? Do either of you know Namjoon's parts well enough to fill in for Namjoon?"

"I know Cypher pt 3 and Ugh! Really well.. but I'm not confident with Tear.." Taehyung answers.

"I'll do tear then. It's last on the list, right? I'll just quickly switch with Taehyungie-hyung. I'll reread it on my phone over and over. I can do it." Jungkook already started searching the lyrics, Taehyung doing the same. J-hope and Yoongi leave to get changed.

Namjoon gasps for breath as his body finally relents, putting an end to the dry heaves, rubbing his sore stomach. "Finally.." Namjoon sighs.

"Here, rinse your mouth Joonie." Jin gently moves the waste bin to the floor, holding the waterbottle to Namjoon's lips. Namjoon takes a mouthful, swishing it around, then spitting it out, taking a few drinks.

"One minute until the VCR ends." Staff alerts them."

"Careful hyung, you might upset your stomach again.." Jimin warns him. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I..I need to lay down.." Namjoon tried to stand, but vertigo hits hard, sending him back in the chair.

"Slow down Namjoonie-hyung, let me help you.." jimin takes both his hands, Jin grabbing him underneath his armpits, gently lifting him to his feet, leading him to his knees.

Jimin puts Namjoons head in his lap, moving the hair plastered from his forehead. "You're burning up Hyungie.. I don't think you'll be doing any more performing.."

"I can..I just need medicine..i..I was fine until it wore off.." Namjoons voice comes out hoarsely, coughing. "I..I have some in my bag.. please Hyung.." Namjoon whines to Jin.

"Alright.. if you're fever goes down before the concert ends you can perform, but the moment anyone suspects your getting worse, staff will escort you off the stage.." Jin couldn't be a hypocrite. He'd performed in terrible conditions plenty of times. He'll have to hear it from Yoongi and the others, but he knew they respected him too much to question his decision.

He could feel Jimin's concerned gaze on his back as he walked away to find Namjoons bag, bringing it to him, measuring out the medicine for Namjoon.

"I'll take full responsibility of him." Jimin promises to Jimin. "I'll even personally take him to the hospital.

"I'm sorry i can't dance for you.. I'm not in the best condition right now.." Namjoon tells the audience as he takes a seat in the chair of reflection. The crowd screams that it's okay. His stomach was still bloated and he still felt shivers running down his spine, but the sound of the crowd cheering his name gave him the strength he needed.

Namjoon pushed his way through the last part of the show, the members constantly coming up to him, squeezing his hand, hugging him from behind, serenading him. He found himself smiling as he rapped, feeling loved.

Jin and Jungkook supported Namjoon on both sides as they left the stage. "We should've told him to leave two songs ago, he's burning up again..poor hyungie.." Jungkook says sympathetically.

"He was doing fine, I'll stay with him tonight. Hoba and Yoongi are going to meet up with staff to see what we're going to do about the other concerts, there's no way he can do two more shows.."

(I can't miss anymore..) Namjoon coughs, unable to get any words out.

"You have to. Army will understand.." Jin tells him gently.

Namjoon didn't care. All he could think about was failing his team and his fans. His stomach tightened, muscles pushing nothing but slimely water gagging it up.

"Woah, Namjoonie!" Jin quickly gets him to his knees, Jungkook rubbing his back.

"It's okay..it's okay.." Jin finds a bin, placing in front as another round of sick pushes up, burning Namjoon's throat.

Tears fill the youngest rapper's eyes as he throws up everything he had left in him. "I fuc*ed it all up.." He sobs.

"Namjoon-ah, it's not your fault you're sick. Baby, don't cry.." Jin tries soothing him by stroking the back of his neck.

Jungkook blinks hard, quickly moving away from Namjoon before he starts crying, too going to the closest hyung for comfort.

"It's okay, Jungkookie. Joonie is just sick and frustrated. He'll get better.." J-hope hugs Jungkook close.

Namjoon's stopped just as suddenly as he started, having nothing left in him. Jin and Taehyung help him to his feet again, wanting to get him to the hotel to wash up and sleep as soon as possible.

As the leave the building, instead of hearing Army screaming their names, they hear them start singing..

"Let’s only walk on flower trails

I can’t say that

Let’s only see good things

I can’t say that either

Saying that there will only be good things from now on

Saying that you won’t get hurt

I can’t say that

I can’t lie like that..."

"That's...my part in 2!3!.. They're singing in korean.." Namjoon was astonished to hear them.

"They want you to know that you can't always have good days, Joon." Jin tells him, smiling when he hears Yoongi singing his verse when he heard them struggling. "They don't care if you can't perform for them. They just want you to be happy.."

Namjoon smiles through his tears, crying now from happiness, joining them for the chorus.

"You'll be okay, Joon.." Yoongi rubs his back, leading him into the car. "Thank you, army!" He shouts out the window, asking staff to stay until they at least make it through the song.

#bts boys #bts #bts sickfic #bts fanfic #bts sickie #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts taehyung #sick!fic #sick namjoon #sick rm #bts emeto #bts comfort #bts fluff #bts namgi #Spotify #bts sick fic

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rainbowsuitcase · 8 months

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Namjoon X Yoongi - Training

18+ smut

Yoongi with fitness trainer Namjoon for a boyfriend. Yoongi who was never into exercising but seeing his boyfriend naked makes him want to join him in the gym just to watch that amazing body being made, to see the sweat on Namjoon's pecs and maybe get fucked by him in the bathroom after.

Namjoon who fucks him on all fours and pushes him down to his elbows, leans over him to whisper in his ear, "Push your shoulders back, chest down."

Yoongi gasps out between moans, "Get- get fucked" and Namjoon just laughs and tells him,

"That's your job."

"C'mon baby we gotta fix that posture," Namjoon says when he’s fucking Yoongi against the wall, forcing him to keep his back straight, to not slouch, even though all Yoongi wants to do is wrap around Namjoon's shoulders and dig his nails into his back.

Yoongi thinks he's finally won when he’s riding Namjoon, but Namjoon just makes him do all the work until his thighs are burning so much that he physically can’t anymore, crying because it’s not enough. Only then does Namjoon flip them around and pushes him into the mattress.

Yoongi complains so much, the ultimate pillow princess before he met Namjoon, but really he loves it. He loves how he has to work for it, loves the praise when he does, loves the way Namjoon calls him a good boy in his deep, fucked out and satisfied voice.

#bit #smut #namgi smut #namjoon x yoongi #bts smut #bts fic #namgi fic #trainer namjoon #pillow prince yoongi #kinda dom namjoon #he just wants his boyfrie's back to not hurt!#he's a good guy #namjoon smut #yoongi smut

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snowpetaly · 8 months

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September arrived 🍂🥧

Feel free to use 🧡 credits are welcome!

prompt idea: young adult, falling in love, slow burn, collage & high school student, coffe at the afternoon, fall time, strangers to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, light angst with bitter fluff

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hopepoint · 8 months

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had polytan thoughts on my drive home but what if the boys are all together, maybe staying in a hotel for some kind of promotion.

yg's room next to sj's because the younger wanted to be a little closer to his hyung (even though they live less than 10 min away from eo)

and vmin naturally find each other's rooms, but when th gets there jk is already in jm's room so they enjoy their time together until they all itch to bug their eldest hyung sj, so of course they tumble into his room grinning and bubbly with excitement-

except, yg beat them there, sitting right next to the bed in an armchair that is a little too small for his body to be curled into it along with his laptop balancing on the armrest. th ends up curled at the base of the chair, his hair tickling yg's legs but he doesn't care

because it's been too long since this many of them were in one place. yg types something up as th hums underneath him and eventually, he lowers his legs so th can wrap himself closer.

when they got there jm and jk settled on the bed, im now scrolls at the foot of the bed while jk watches sj play a video game on his laptop, both of them crunched against the headboard. Yet, they both manage to tangle their legs with jm's in an odd jumble of limbs.

and sj can't even falsify annoyance when jk knocks his knee against his be it means he is actually there, it means there aren't kilometers of space and a phone screen separating them from eo. he is really there, hugging his waist and shoving his short-haired head into his neck.

eventually, th makes it to the bed flopping on jm who wiggled his way between sj and jk's legs. the two sleepily groan from th's impact but jm's laugh drowns them out. he tells them hs went to his room and is now texting him asking if he is still awake.

because hs knows jm has him on emergency bypass, all of them do. of course they do. so jm's phone continues to chirp w/ea of hs's texts until jm tells him sj's room number. because of course hs looked for him, worried he fell asleep without brushing his teeth after an exhuasting plane ride.

and when hs gets there he finds nj nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot t in front of sj's door. he is so lost in thought when hs wraps his arm around his much wider waist he jumps. his already red ears burn more and he asks if they are still awake.

be of course even if nj wanted to go in he would rather walk away from a room full of comfort than bother them by waking them all up after an exhausting day.

he puts them first always. and hs knows when to push, so he squeezes the taut muscle of ni's side and knocks on the door. and when it opens he pushes nj inside, pushes him toward the five people who look to him for comfort like he does them.

hs makes a beeline for m and th, flopping onto their tangled bodies which naturally make room for him like a lost piece of their puzzle. but still nj lingers at the foot of the bed, hand clutching the comforter watching the five in bed slowly melt closer together.

then a hand in his, if he could call it that, it's the tips of yg's fingers tracing his calloused palm and then wrapping around his wrist. his touch light and soft, giving him ample opportunity to untangle himself from his grasp. but of course he doesn't, of course he follows.

he follows him to the other end of the room and they grab the couch pressed against the wall, slowly and sleepily they maneuver it to jk and sj's side of the bed.

nj motions for yg to take the side closest to the bed, closest to everyone else, but y coxes him onto that side with that same soft grasp. groggily sj groans about jk rolling over to spoon ni, but the eldest still tucks himself behind the younger in a warm embrace.

yg tucks his head under nj’s chin resting his cheek against his chest, and nj feels him relax against him. slowly, after he is sure everyone has fallen asleep, soft shores filling the room, nj falls asleep. all of them tucked away in a room full of their greatest comforts.

#poly ot7 #polytan #poly bts #yoonjin #vmin #vminkook #namseok #vminseok #namkook #jihope #namgi #jinkook #bts fic #bts ff #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts ffs #made myself sad! have a great day 🫠

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wwilloww · 2 years

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sh. | chapter twenty one | ot7

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 4.5k WARNINGS AND TAGS no use of gendered pronouns to refer to reader. some sexy dreams. duel.

AN back on the sh. horse after a short break! this chapter is the result of a poll that i did a couple of weeks ago. thank you and many hugs and kisses to @thatlongspringnight and @hesperantha and @hobi-gif for helping me out with this chapter. i have no idea where i would be without the ability to brainstorm and edit with these incredible folks.

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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: DUEL

The night winds around you, the darkness on the edge of the fire pit leaning in closer as the embers begin to burn low, painting your friends’ faces in golden shadows. Familiar shapes drift across their features as the flames flicker, but then the shapes shift, building a fragile dance between what you know and what you don’t. In a way they do look different. When just days ago they felt like strangers, they once more feel familiar. But not in the old way. Not in the way you used to know them. In a new light, like meeting a stranger on a train in a foreign city and talking through the night. It’s the kind of strange, burning closeness that feels like it could disappear at any moment.

The eight of you stay up late, huddled around the dwindling fire, sharing jokes and stories from quarantine and little touches. A hand on a thigh. Hair brushed away from an eye. Fingers tangling in the dark spots between seats. What surprises you is that even after months in quarantine passed with seemingly nothing happening in your personal life, there is still something to talk about. With them, there’s always something to talk about.

Soon, it becomes too cold to stay outside and yawns begin to pop up around the circle. Reluctantly, you all shuffle inside, as what feels like winter air rushes down the mountain towards you, slicing straight through the wool blanket you have wrapped around you.

“I wonder when it will snow,” Jimin says, taking one final glance over his shoulder towards the mountain.

“It’s quite late in the year for there to be no snow yet,” Namjoon replies, ever-knowledgeable. “Soon, I think. Soon.”

Everyone breaks into their separate directions, murmuring and mumbling goodnights.

Hoseok lingers, though. He reaches for you and squeezes your hand. When you look in his eyes, there’s a deep sadness there. You want to reach for his face, to brush the despair from the window of his gaze, but your hand remains at your side.

“I’m so sorry about everything. I’m so sorry I caused you pain.”

It’s okay, you almost say, but then you stop yourself and swallow the words down. “Thank you, Hoseok.” It’s not about excusing him. It’s about accepting him. And it’s easy to accept his apology, especially when the warmth of his hand sinks like a song into yours.

“Goodnight,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and reluctantly lets go of you.

You watch as he disappears down the hallway, an ache in your chest as you watch him go. But that ache is very quickly replaced with deep exhaustion, a weariness to your bones. Your feet hurt, your chest is tight, your eyes are heavy. All you want is to crawl into somewhere cozy and warm and cocoon for days.

Jimin, who you hadn’t realized was lingering behind you, approaches you, a hand sliding over your shoulder. You jump at the sensation. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were here.” You wonder if he witnessed the exchange between you and Hoseok.

“Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?”

You nod and he opens his arms. You rush into his hold and he squeezes you tight.

“Why do I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks?” you ask.

“I dunno,” Jimin chuckles. “Maybe you’re in love with me. Maybe you’re obsessed with me.”

You stiffen and he notices.

“You know I’m joking.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He leads you back to his room. You haven’t been in here since that memorable night with him and Jungkook, and your face warms as you think about it.

You both get ready for bed in silence. Jimin seems quieter than usual. Like he knows you’ve seen something you’re not supposed to.

When you get into bed, you cuddle closer to him, slipping underneath his arm and pressing your face to his chest. He’s like a ball of warmth shielding you against the cold.

When your fingers play against the hem of his shirt, he tenses. “You know we don’t have to do anything tonight,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. “I didn’t bring you back here just because I needed a fuckening. I wanted you here because I miss you and I want to be close to you.”

You warm at the words.

“I miss you too, Jimin.”

Sleep flutters at the edge of your consciousness and you give in for a moment, letting your eyes slide shut. It feels so sweet to let yourself rest. But something nags at the back of your mind, and eyes closed, you press closer to Jimin.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

He hums in response. A non-answer. It feels like a wall between you and him. But he doesn’t say anything more, and as you wait for him, sleep takes over.

You sleep deeply.

********

The logic of a dream is something that you’ve never quite understood, let alone thought too deeply of. It appears, wrapping you in tendrils of place, time, knowing that sink into your skin. You become an actor of sorts in the play of your mind.

Tonight is no different.

The dream starts innocently enough.

In the way that dream logic operates, as soon as you step into the room—a barn converted into a dance hall—you know who you are, where you are, and what’s going on. Even as the swirl of blurred faces flashes by you, it’s like you’ve been in this world your whole life.

Here, in the barn-turned-hall, you’re surrounded by flickering candlelight as a small band of local instrumentalists sits in the corner, stringing along a lively jig while a wicked spring wind throws itself against the walls. Hordes of local townspeople trip and twirl through the space, as the band plays one perky dance song after another. Everyone knows these dances by heart. Even you find your feet tapping, itching to dance along with them in rows of coordinated patterns.

Someone calls your name and you turn to find a familiar face—Namjoon—standing behind you. As the local printer and owner of your town’s press, Namjoon was a frequent figure in your childhood, playing with you in the fields, your families joining one another for dinners and picnics. Until at some point, his frequency became familiarity, and then light smiles turned lighthearted. Recently, your heart had been flipping a little more when you saw him. His hands are stained with ink, but he’s done up finely for the occasion, trousers clean and pressed, collar standing high, and eyes shining bright in the candlelight.

He opens his mouth to speak, but a matronly stranger steps between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Kim,” she says, a smile glimmering falsely on her lips. “My daughter has been keeping her card clear all night, waiting for your arrival. Of course you’ll dance with her first.” There’s an unspoken “and only” written across her face. Immediately you don’t like her.

His smile hardens ever so slightly. Ice sinks through your veins.

He’s not yours.

“And of course we’ll want to talk about that printing job for my husband. I know how eager you are to help him with his business. Considering you’ll be part of the family oh-so soon.”

“Of course.”

His eyes flicker to yours, and as the older woman pulls him away, the back of his hand brushes against the hand you’ve got clutching your skirts. A zing of electricity sparks through you. It’s like a secret, that he’s passed to you with no one else knowing. When you look up at him, he’s looking away, at the woman he’s being led to. Your heart aches. You don’t want him looking at her like that.

That’s when you hear your name a second time.

You turn to find the local dressmaker—Hoseok—grinning before you.

“You look awfully lonely standing there like that,” he says. He leans against a lone wooden pillar, his roguish grin dancing on his lips. He’s done up nicely, as he always is, in vibrant and fashionable fabrics, always the latest styles.

“Are you just here to call me lonely and run away again?” You step closer to him, your gloved hand ghosting against his chest. He looks down at it and grins.

Your history with Hoseok in this world is fully-formed in your mind: a boy you grew up with, who liked to tug on your hair and run for the hills, who turned into a man who’d nearly kiss you before smirking and running for the hills. He always left you wanting more.

“Perhaps,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes and step away from him.

“In that case, I’ll be on my way—“

As you step away he captures your hand in his.

“Dance with me.”

“Everyone will see,” you say. In the past, Hoseok had been so careful with who saw you, when, doing what.

“I find there’s a certain kind of invisibility that one can don in a large, drunken crowd,” he offers with a grin. “On the other hand, maybe I don’t mind too much who sees.” He leans a little closer, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Maybe I want them to see.”

Since when did he want them to see?

When you hesitate, he continues.

“Please.”

You place your hand in his.

Just like that, he whisks you off into the crowd. The dance blurs the way dreams do, but all you feel is the closeness of his chest to your own, the way his hand grips your lower back like you’re something of his. Your body warms to him. He’s holding you tightly. Tighter than he should. During a twirl, where your back is pressed to his front, you feel the ghost of his lips against your neck.

“Hoseok!” you gasp.

“What?” You can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice before you turn to face him.

“You can’t do that.”

“But I want to. Do you want me to?”

The question pings something deep within you, but you find yourself answering honestly: “Yes.”

“Then let me continue.”

As he swoops before you and the music swells, he passes quickly in front of you, circling you as the dance commands. The hall fades out into darkness and it feels like it’s just the two of you, dancing among a set of stars. “What ever will I do with you?” he whispers from behind you, before stepping in front again. His gaze flickers between your lips and your eyes, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“I mean, I am absolutely and entirely taken by you—and I have no idea what to do about it.”

The sincerity singing in his eyes knocks you off guard. But you scramble to your senses, quickly saying. “Well, you ought to do something about it before someone else does.”

He chuckles. He’s so close to you and you swear he’s going to kiss you. The dream narrows to a sharp sense of reality. You can feel his fingers drifting up your arm. You can smell the scent of pine and fabric on him. And though you’ve never kissed before, not by anyone, you feel like you know exactly what he will taste like, what it will feel like: like the earth being moved beneath your feet. He moves closer. And the music stops. The rest of the hall flickers back into your vision.

Someone coughs from behind you.

You step back from Hoseok and turn.

“Namjoon—”

“May I have this next dance?”

You nod eagerly, and are quick to let go of Hoseok’s hand, quick to step away from the confusion, the tension swirling through you. Though you don’t miss the hard gaze that is exchanged between them.

The music starts up again, a livelier jig than before, and you find yourself hoping alongside the sturdy man before you.

You can feel the glare of the girl burning into your back, but there’s a kind of delight in having him, having Namjoon all to yourself, even if it’s just for a moment.

His movements are strong, sincere, filled with the weight of intention. You can tell he’s been practicing his dances, but sometimes notice that he’s counting aloud, just under his breath. It makes you giggle. When someone calls out his name, encouraging him on, he accidentally steps on your toes. He apologizes profusely, and you smooth a hand along his shoulder.

“You can step on my toes any day of the week.”

As his hand grasps yours, there it is—the same warmth that was there with Hoseok is here too, writhing within you, glowing in your chest. Why is it the same? If anything, it should be different. But his hand on your lower back feels the same, his proximity still urges the same flickering light within you.

Your brow furrows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—“

“Do you need fresh air? A turn around the garden?”

“That—“ At first you’re quick to dismiss the idea, the notion of slipping away with someone you’re not supposed to. The indecency. But the thought of a chill seeping beneath the tightness of your dress and easing the strictness of your breath sounds divine. “That might help some.”

He looks relieved at your acquiescence, and takes your hand. Walking through the middle of the dance floor, he leads you to the doors.

There’s a little garden outside, one with tall bushes and a little bench that looks over the hill and down towards the town you call home. Little golden lights brighten the windows, though a few go out as you watch over them.

For a while the two of you sit in silence. This is something familiar to you. Silence with Namjoon. The way he knows when to let it settle over the two of you like a comforting blanket. You want to lean into him, but propriety says otherwise.

“The stones in your hair—“ Namjoon suddenly touches them with a careful finger, eager discovery hindered by his desire not to mess up the careful updo you’ve managed to create. “—They remind me of the stars that take up residence in your eyes when it’s dark.” In the real world, a line like that would make you cringe. It would probably make him cringe too. But here, in this world, it takes your breath away and you shiver when he says “Like this,” and leans closer, his breath brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck. But he pulls back.

“Why don’t you want to touch me?” The words tumble from your lips.

His brow furrows.

“I—” He stops himself before going any further.

I do want to touch you but—.

A million sentences could follow that “but,” and you lay waiting for them.

“We—we should be getting inside. Before anyone thinks anything of your disappearance.” His face is set, his jaw tight.

“I’d very much like to be in charge of my own disappearing acts,” you say. But then you soften. You have your reputation to think of. “But—you’re right. Best to avoid the gossip.”

Namjoon leads you back inside, the heat of all those bodies hitting you as the doors swing open to reveal no one other than your Hoseok. Yours? The natural claim surprises you.

Hoseok’s gaze lights on the gentle grasp you have on Namjoon’s arm and his eyes narrow.

When he speaks your name, there’s an edge to it. But you realize it’s not directed at you. Namjoon, however, seems to notice who it is directed at—himself—and tightens his grasp on you.

“You know,” Namjoon says, turning you towards him. “You ought to come by the press sometime. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you around those parts of town. I’m adding on a little wing—a bookery—”

“Or you could use your free time to come by the shop,” Hoseok cuts in quickly, his hand reaching for yours. He turns you towards him. Never, not once, had you ever seen him show such an apparent display of affection. “I’d love to make a dress for you.” His gaze roves over you. “I could guess your measurements, but there’s something about the experience of having someone make something just for you. The experience of an expert dressmaker—” In his eyes you see what he imagines. The measuring tape held tightly between his teeth, his hands ghosting over your figure as he drapes fabric and takes measurements. The goosebumps that will rise. The looks that will be exchanged. That concentrated look you know and love so well as he crafts a garment just for you.

Perhaps the shoulder of your dress will slip off, revealing untouched skin. Perhaps Hoseok will take notice. Perhaps he will slowly, but delicately, fix the fallen fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I have the best editions of books for leagues,” Namjoon continues, shouldering in front of Hoseok. “I know you love to read. I’ll have only the best selections laid out for you. You should see the gilding on these books.” In Namjoon’s gaze, you see his hopes flicker. “We could even take the books out. On a tour of sorts. Maybe a picnic.” You know that this is a big deal to him. Namjoon never let his precious books out into the sunlight, let alone into a potentially muddy field, with all its hazards. But you can’t help but let the idea of a picnic with Namjoon fill your imagination. The sunlight dancing on the planes of his glowing face, his fingers drifting nearer and nearer to yours—

“In fact, I’ve been meaning to try out a new French style,” Hoseok continues. If you’d be willing to be my model I’d love to practice—and of course you could keep the dress. A gift.” He grins.

“I could show you how to use the press. You could put your poems into print. Our very own local poet.”

“I could—“

“My goodness,” you cut in, and both of the men quiet, waiting with rapt attention for what you have to say. “I’ll have a hard time choosing between whether to spend my money on a new dress or a new book,” you say, flattered by the pressing attention though unsure of how to break the tension that hangs like silken spiderwebs between the two men.

“It’s a gift!“ Both men say at the same time.

“But for now, I ought to say goodnight.”

You think the only way through this situation is out, so you turn your back, not missing the fallen faces of the two men, but just as you do:

“I’ve asked your father for your hand.”

You whirl around. The two men that hold your heart stand behind you, but instead of staring at you, they’re staring at one another.

“You’re already engaged,” Hoseok says, his eyes burning into Namjoon.

“An engagement that can be broken.”

“You’ve always been quick to break things, haven’t you?” Hoseok says. “What, for instance, were you doing out in the garden?” He steps closer to Namjoon, leveling him eye to eye.

“It’s none of your business,” Namjoon cuts back.

“It is though, isn’t it?” Hoseok says, before turning to you. “Your father said yes to me, so you are my business now.”

“Your father said yes to me as well.”

The two men glare heatedly at one another. A small crowd has gathered around you all.

“Then I suppose there’s only one way to solve this,” Hoseok says.

Namjoon nods.

“On that point I can agree with you.”

“A duel.”

The two men storm out of the room, but not before Namjoon hesitates, gripping your hand in his.

“I’m doing this for you.”

“I don’t want you to do this for me. Just stay, stay. We can sort this all out.”

Namjoon shakes his head and disappears.

You run out of the hall after them, but they’ve already taken off towards the thick woods that surround the hall. You walked here, but launch yourself onto the closest horse, who whinnies with dissent, and speed off after them. The trees whip at your face, your dress, like hands grabbing you from the darkness, but still you speed on.

Soon you reach a clearing.

Everything is wrong. There should be witnesses for a duel. There should be a reason for a duel. The two men stand fifteen feet apart, pistols drawn. There is a hardness to their faces, one you don’t recognize. One that scares you. Would they really go to such lengths to tear each other apart, just to get to you?

The notion frightens you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hoseok says through gritted teeth.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you cry.

Namjoon ignores you and nods solemnly.

Duel.

The harsh trill of a cellphone ringing breaks through the early morning mist, and you look down to find a phone in hand, the number 222-2222 lighting up the screen. A strange mixture of confusion and dread fills you as you press the answer key but nothing happens. You press again.

The ringing doesn’t stop.

You open your mouth to say something, to call out to them again, but their confused, angry faces are getting farther away. The meadow before you is fading, the fabric of the grass turning into actual fabric, the world darkening, zooming out—

A clock before you reads 2:23am, and you half understand you’re in bed, as a voice behind you grumbles, and murmurs, “Jin, why the hell are you calling me at this godforsaken hour.”

Muffled, but clearly enough you hear: “I think you should come to our room.”

“Why? I’m sleeping.”

“You know, we could be doing things other than sleeping.”

“I already have a sleeping buddy.”

“Even better. Bring them.”

“Hit me up when it’s not the fucking middle of the night. Goodnight Jin.”

A dial tone.

Shuffling behind you.

A hand slipped over your waist.

“Sorry.”

You revel in the touch, how it feels so similar to dancing with Hoseok, with Namjoon, and you cuddle closer to the warmth.

You go searching for the tendrils of the dream. You find candlelight, the crisp smell of a garden in spring, the feeling of being pressed close to a body. Wanted. You go searching, looking for a door back into the world you were just in.There’s a desperate need to know what happens next. To know they’re okay.

But all you find is smoke.

At some point waking descends out of the flashes of logic and into a landscape you’re unfamiliar with: rolling hills and marshes, towering ancient trees that provide shelter from a distant sun and long grasses. You find yourself reaching back through the dream for the familiar and warm touch of broad hands pressed to your lower back, but all you find is the damp coldness of spring.

Half-awake, you wipe your hand across your damp forehead. There’s someone close, you can tell by the warmth next to you in the bed, the feeling of it drawing you like a moth to a flame and when you burrow into their side, their face, their identity, flickers between seven different faces. Sleep pulls you back in, and with a sense of loss, you don’t dream again.

When you wake fully the sun is just beginning to peek over the mountains, tossing rosy hues around the bedroom willy nilly. It’s one of those mornings where you blink awake and your whole body zings with energy. You’re on the far side of the bed from Jimin and he sleeps peacefully, a little bit curled up in himself.

You slip out of bed and tiptoe through the house. Finding yourself in the library, perhaps subconsciously looking for someone in particular, you find it empty. On the table lies a book.

It’s a beautiful thing, ornate and gilded, but new, like it’s been produced in the last couple of years. You pick it up and flip through. Random words catch your eye: the unwinding crevice, blueberry sunsets, the body beneath the body. That’s enough to convince you. You pick it up and carry it out with you.

Someone’s puffy jacket is hanging on a hook near the door and you slip it on before heading outside. They won’t mind, you think. The air is cool and crisp, but is warming from the golden touch of the sun.

You eye the fire pit, where you had been so comfortable last night. But in the morning light, it looks stark and barren and empty. You don’t want to feel that way. You look to the forest. Even as something tight coils in your stomach, you find yourself drifting towards it.

That’s when you know: you’re going to climb a tree. Just like when you were a kid, you’re going to find a tree and you’re going to climb it.

It takes a while to find the perfect one: a sturdy one with big, frequent branches. You grin.

You slip the book into the jacket, zipping it up tight so that the book is pressed to your chest. Then with one hand, you grasp the rough bark of the branch immediately above your head and begin your journey upward.

This feels like something you’re not supposed to be doing, climbing the tree like this, let alone with a book as beautiful as the one you carry tucked away in your jacket. Still, you climb higher, wrapping your hands around the next branch and hauling yourself up.

When you’re high enough, you stop and settle into the nook between branch and trunk, resting your back against it. The corners of the book poke into you, but you find yourself breathing deep and finding a space of rest within yourself. The cool morning air fills your lungs, finds a home in your limbs. The tree supports you, holds you.

Carefully, you pull out the book and begin reading. The pages of the book flutter in the late autumn air, a crisp sound, like birds wings in summer. In all honesty, you don’t really understand what’s going on. The story is beautiful, a story about a young adult winding their way through a foreign city, interacting with stranger after stranger, but the sentences are long, the words big, and the meaning blurry. But the language, oh the language. You can feel the beat of the words, like a drum in your head. It pounds out a song like you’ve never heard before, one that winds through you and settles warmly in your chest. There’s something familiar here, even if you don’t know what it is.

That blurry song follows you to the end of the first chapter. But the last lines, the last lines, are what bring it all into focus.

“Are you going to come home?” Beatrice asks.

“What do you mean, ‘home?’”

“I mean whatever you want it to mean. Whatever you make it to mean.”

And something within you aches in response.

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ze-eternalmarsh · 2 months

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Name: 21 questions

Ship: Namgi (Namjoon/Yoongi) - BTS

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Wordcount: 10,023

Type: One Shot

Tags: smut, fluff, humor, 21 questions, domestic, friends to lovers, first time, praise kink, choking, drunkness (tipsy), soft

Summary:

Yoongi and Namjoon play 21 questions with one another and end up learning more than they had planned.

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theharrowing · 11 months

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Collateral 🗡️ 18: You, me, and our men

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?

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🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung

🗡️ word count: 17.1k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+

🗡️ warnings: dear god, buckle up... discussion of drug use; very soft and fluffy moments; threesome; oral sex (m & f); screaming orgasm; multiple orgasms; playing footsie; punishment & reward; orgasm denial & control; voyeurism & exhibitionism; all of these men are shit heads; loud, sloppy oral; squirting; begging & teasing; light humiliation; safe words; Yoongi & Namjoon being domestic at a silly time; submissive Jeongguk; mc dominant for the first time; use of restraints; noona kink; hair pulling; face & body slapping; masturbation; praising; riding (forward & reverse); mirror sex; finger sucking; a little spanking; fingering; ass eating; overstimulation; after care; i love these characters so fucking much and it really shows ughhhhh.

🗡️ note: i really have no idea how i let the smut scene™ get so huge and wild, but i hope you enjoy it. after all the pent-up tension, it was fun to write. perhaps this scene being huge and gratuitous is my way of distracting you from the horrible realities of the Collateral universe, which will become extremely present in the next chapter. it feels more like a oneshot than a proper chapter, but...whatever. i know not one of you will complain. ok enjoy!!! i love you!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on june 2023 | read on ao3

From the moment you wake up, your nerves are haywire.

You know two things to be true. The first is that this is the last day in the foreseeable future that you will be spending in Jimin's home. The second is that Yoongi will be home shortly after 2 PM.

When Jimin wakes you up by rubbing over your forehead and whispering sweetly, it dawns on you that this is the last time, and it causes a swirling of happiness and sadness to fill your chest. The sun blares through the window at an angle that you typically miss in your sleep, and you squint against the morning light, a sight that has become something of a stranger to you.

With a loud yawn, you rub sleep from your eyes. Then you grumble, feeling as if you had just gone to bed moments ago, frustrated to discover that it is only 10 AM and that you have, in fact, slept far less than normal. It is sweet for Jimin to wake you early on your last day; it warms your heart to know that he is up to something.

"I thought we could get some coffee and pastries before I send you off to the Min Mansion," Jimin suggests with a smile.

Today, Jimin is dressed casually in a burgundy turtleneck tucked into charcoal slacks, with his hair partially pushed off his forehead. His skin is dewy and clear of makeup, radiating with natural beauty. And you can tell his patience for you is wearing thin as his smile falters and his eyes widen; Jimin does not like to wait, and he is absolutely incapable of hiding anything on his face.

"Alright, alright," you mutter before he has the chance to complain.

With a somewhat indignant huff, you toss the warm, pretty pink and orange comforter aside and try not to lament how you will not be returning to its embrace. Then you pad over to the closet and choose a pair of black leggings and cozy green sweater, and you get dressed in there, knowing Jimin is still sitting on your bed, likely scrolling through his phone.

"Don't worry about your things," Jimin calls when you stand a little too long, taking in the sight of clothing and shoes scattered around, cluttering up a sliver of space in the large, walk-in closet. "I'll have Joonie come deal with it. He loves doing your peasant work."

"That is true," you respond with a smile, shutting off the light in the closet and walking out in socked feet. "If there is one thing Namjoon is good at, it is doing exactly what I want him to."

Jimin rolls his eyes dramatically, and mutters, "Gross," under his breath, and the two of you giggle as you exit the room into the hallway, and set out for a morning errand.

Hanging out with Jimin for several hours is a blast, and you spend most of the time seated on a café patio watching passersby and commenting on everything from the cooling weather to people's clothing styles and any random little thought that crops up in between. But as time ticks by, you become antsy.

By 1:30 PM, you are a wreck, checking your phone so often for a notification that Jimin snickers and tells you to relax.

At 1:45 PM when you get the "Almost home!" text from Namjoon, your heart becomes so frantic, you feel like you might throw up.

"Alright, let's get you home," Jimin grumbles when you announce the news with shaking hands clenched tight to your phone. Maybe caffeine was a mistake.

You are able to distract yourself a little with chatter during the drive, and even get lost in singing a song on the radio that you recognize as one of the tracks a dancer named Cherry enjoys stripping to. The breeze coming in through the windows as you leave the city pulls you into a calm state, and you close your eyes to enjoy the way the wind feels.

But as soon as the car pulls into Namjoon's driveway, your stomach is turmoil, sloshing and churning, threatening to make you sick. You realize you are squeezing your hands tightly when the dig of your nails begins to hurt your palms, and you open them wide, flexing and attempting to relax them before resting them against your knees and squeezing.

All you can think is, What if he hates me? What if he remembers every horrible thing I said? What if he never wants to see me again?

Of course, you do not fully believe any of that; you do not think Yoongi has it in him to hold a grudge over something like that, especially if Namjoon has relayed the things you said to him the other night. But you do fear that something you said could have stuck with Yoongi—burrowed deep into his subconscious to make a home, festering with hateful words during quiet moments when all he wants is peace.

"Dove?" Jimin asks softly, and you gasp, pulling your gaze from the black dashboard that had gone out of focus as you stared at it. You glance up to find the vehicle has stopped in front of Namjoon's garage.

"I'm scared," you mutter softly before you can stop yourself, squeezing your eyes closed to fight back the urge to cry.

"I know," Jimin responds as he reaches over to rub a hand over your shoulders and down your back. "But this is Yoongi, and he loves you. He is not going to be angry with you."

Although no tears have fallen, you press the sides of your index fingers below your eyes as if willing all condensation to stay put. And, with a deep exhale, you nod and say, "I don't think I worry about him being angry. But I do worry about him being hurt."

Jimin's hand slides up to your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, forcing your eyes to close involuntarily. "Go in there and talk to him," he urges, and you swallow thickly and nod some more.

"Thanks for everything," you mutter, smiling despite yourself.

"Any time, dove," Jimin responds, and you know that he means it.

The seatbelt feels heavy when you unbuckle it and release it to clunk against the door as it slides into resting position. With a slow, deep fortifying breath, you reach for the door handle and tug, then you begin the process of making your limbs move, one after the other, sluggish with anticipation.

As you approach the door, your heart pounds, and you wring your hands in front of you with each step forward that you take. It will be fine, you tell yourself over and over. It will be fine, it will be fine, itwillbefine.

Before you have a chance to lift your hand and knock, the door opens, and you squeeze your fists tight once more while taking in Namjoon's bright, beautiful smile. The urge to cry returns and your exhale rattles something fierce from deep in your lungs.

"Hey, sweetheart," Namjoon says, eyes soft and knowing, assessing your very clear signs of distress. He wears a fuzzy brown cardigan over a white tee with black slacks, looking soft like a teddy bear and so inviting. "Deep breaths, yeah?"

You nod and let out a chuckle of relief as you step through the threshold and lean against him. Namjoon wraps his arms around you and steps back into the house, pulling you along just enough to allow him to close the front door. Both of your hands grip onto the cardigan, and you rub over the soft fabric with your thumbs while toeing out of your sneakers one at a time.

"Alright, clingy," Namjoon jokes, rubbing splayed palms over your shoulders and back before attempting to release the hug and take a step away. You continue to hold on tight and step with him, causing Namjoon to laugh and take you firmly by the arms. "The only way out is through. Let's go release you from limbo; Yoongi is excited to see you."

Tears spill at the mention of Yoongi's name, and you heave an exhale, then stand straight and wipe uselessly under your eyes. Even as Namjoon rotates, you feel the urge to bury yourself forward once more, allowing your body to turn while your forehead rests against his chest.

"Darling," Yoongi's deep, soft, beautiful voice calls from beside you, "why are you crying?"

You hardly get a look at Yoongi as you back away from Namjoon and fling your arms around Yoongi's middle, gripping onto another soft sweater as you bury yourself into his chest. Yoongi wraps you in a warm, delicate hug and presses his lips to your temple, holding you there while you tremble and cry. He smells sweet and musky and perfectly him, and you are so terribly in love.

"I'm sorry," you manage to whimper.

Yoongi's hold on you tightens, and he slides his head beside yours, uttering soft shushes while his hands rove everywhere they can reach, squeezing your neck gently and patting over your hair.

His voice is barely above a whisper as he responds, "I'm sorry, too."

"I didn't mean anything I said," you sob, and Yoongi's hug tightens then softens.

"It's alright if you did," he says, voice full of love; no malice to be found. Because, of course, Yoongi is soft and understanding with you. Of course, he knows your heart. "You have every right to be hurt."

Finally, you release the hug and back up only far enough to smile at the face that greets you. Yoongi's hair is wild dark waves framing his beautiful face, and with tears in his eyes, he looks softer than ever before. He wears a light blue sweater, and you rub your hands over his chest searching for the words to say; overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.

You settle on a simple, "I love you," and it feels so right when it passes your lips. It feels so right when Yoongi's lips upturn into a sweet smile that reaches his eyes. "I love you, and I'm sorry, Yoongi. I'm so sorry."

"Let's sit?" Yoongi offers, and you exhale deeply, releasing so much tension that has built and built in your shoulders and chest.

Yoongi guides the three of you over to a large, light brown leather couch. The cushion groans as Yoongi sits, and you take your place beside him, followed by Namjoon, who sits on your other side. You bend your legs and turn your body to Yoongi, who does the same, facing you with his elbow against the backrest.

"You look great," Yoongi says with a smile, and although you are the most dressed down you have been in weeks, you return his smile, welcoming the compliment. With a teasing lift of a brow, he adds, "Namjoon says Jimin has been teaching you to dance?"

Warmth rises to your cheeks, and you chuckle, then nod. Yoongi waggles his eyebrows, making you laugh harder. You lift a hand to swat him on the chest, but Yoongi catches it and holds your palm against him, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Yes, Jimin has been teaching me to dance," you respond somewhat sheepishly. "And Hyejin, a little."

"Ah, Hwasa!" Yoongi responds happily, smiling widely—devastatingly. "I'm so glad you spent time getting out and making friends. I was worried about you being cooped up in a dark mansion for three weeks."

You chuckle, but something heavy settles in your chest, making you frown. "I was drinking a lot at first. But dancing helped me get out of my head. It's been really good for me."

Yoongi releases your hand and attempts to scoot closer, knocking his knee against yours. In fluid, unspoken movements, Yoongi spreads his legs—lifts one leg to rest against the backrest and slide past you—and you mold into him, shifting onto your knees to slot yourself into the space he has made and scoot onto your side, wrapping your arms around his chest.

"Namjoon," you mutter against Yoongi's sweater. "This hug needs a Namjoon."

The sound of Yoongi's laughter rattling in his chest against your cheek is a symphony, and you squeeze him tighter, feeling love build and build and pour from you. The couch shifts behind you as Namjoon stands, and Yoongi attempts to scoot the two of you forward while Namjoon wedges himself behind Yoongi. The two of them shift around until one of Namjoon's legs slide beside Yoongi's, multiplying your hug as two more arms wrap around you, sinking you further against Yoongi's chest.

"Better," you mutter happily, tilting your head to press soft kisses to the underside of Yoongi's chin and against his throat. Yoongi sighs with a smile and tightens his hug, and you continue to kiss along the curve of his neck until Namjoon—whose lips are pressed just below Yoongi's ear—comes into view.

"Thank you for giving me another chance," Yoongi says, tugging at your heartstrings so hard you nearly cry again.

"You're not allowed to thank me for loving you," you complain against his skin, breathing in his musk.

Yoongi chuckles gentle and sweet and says, "On the contrary, I am extremely grateful for your love." His voice softens as he adds, "And I intend to do my best to never take you for granted again."

"I don't understand what drove you to use…" you blurt out, then trail off, unable to say the word heroin, feeling it lodge itself in your throat, sharp as a needle and thick as tar. As you swallow around the discomfort and continue, Yoongi's fingertips trace shapes against your back, and Namjoon gives your biceps a gentle squeeze. "I don't understand addiction at all, and I overreacted. Even if my feelings were genuine at the time, the things I said were awful. I want you to feel safe with me, and I want to support you through whatever you are going through. I guess I was just shocked, but that's no excuse to lash out."

Kisses litter your cheeks and forehead, firm and soft and lingering, punctuated with hums. Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean into Yoongi's lips, smiling as his body says so much without the use of words.

"I feel safe with you," Yoongi finally says, and you sigh, content. "I can't fully explain what drives me to use…and I can't promise I won't again…but I want to try to stay clean. I deserve to feel happy, and pushing you away or putting myself at risk of overdose are terrible ways to chase happiness."

"You can always talk to me," you offer despite silently acknowledging how huge and heavy and impossible some things might feel to voice. "And Namjoon."

"I'm going to resume therapy, too," Yoongi says. "I was talking to Christopher for a while, but stopped shortly before you moved in. I think it would be good for me to return to him."

You nod and bury your face against his neck, wondering if you should also talk to the family therapist. Some nights, you wake up screaming, returned by your subconscious to the night of the crash—to the sight of Taehyung stabbing a man clear through the gut with a blade.

Even now, the thought claws at your subconsciousness with such force that Namjoon says something softly, and you hear Yoongi hum in response, but the sounds are distant and hard to parse. You squeeze your eyes closed, determined to be present and not spiral, breathing away the memory of that night as best as you can.

"I hope the therapy helps," you say with a bit of a pout, feeling emotionally overwhelmed but with a desire to keep assuring Yoongi that you are here for him. "I'll do my best to love and support you."

Yoongi squeezes you tight and sighs against you, and Namjoon's hands slowly rub over your arms and Yoongi's in calming motions. This feels like the right time to voice what has been weighing on you so heavily, but as you open your mouth to speak, you begin to feel nervous. But why should you feel nervous with Yoongi? Since he began opening up to you, he has been supportive and understanding; asking him what the three of you are should not be scary.

"How would you define our…" you begin, trailing off while your pulse pounds loudly in your ears. "Our, uh…our relationship."

Four arms hug you tight, and Yoongi hums softly. Then, he asks, "You mean the fake engagement doesn't make my intentions clear enough?"

"No, you're right," you chide, lifting a hand to swat at Yoongi's shoulder, making him laugh harder. "Silly me."

It takes a moment for Yoongi's laughter to die. His shoulders continue to shake, and you give him time to respond truthfully while you rub his soft blue sweater between your thumb and forefinger.

"I consider the two of you my romantic partners," Yoongi finally says, voice low and sweet. "I consider us exclusive, but with an asterisk attached to the word, allowing you and Jeongguk to play around if that is something you still want."

"It is," you admit, feeling your cheeks warm.

"And the same goes for me," Namjoon says, making your smile widen. You already know these things to be true, but it feels so nice to hear them spoken aloud.

"Okay," you respond. "Good."

"I suppose we have never had this conversation," Yoongi muses. "We sort of just…fell into one another."

"A beautiful collision," Namjoon says, fingers tracing shapes against your shoulders. "I feel so lucky to have been pulled by such an undeniable gravitational force, creating a galaxy of beauty and warmth between the three of us."

"What the fuck," you mutter against Yoongi's sweater. "That was so poetic and cute. I want to kiss you so bad, but I don't want to move."

Namjoon chuckles and gives your shoulders a squeeze. "You have plenty of time to kiss me, don't worry."

With a dreamy sigh, you mutter, "Good."

The three of you sit like this for a while, quiet and tangled around one another. Then Namjoon's phone rings, shrill and loud, and he shifts around as he fishes the device from a pocket to answer.

"Hey, Tae," he says, and you smile to yourself; they say, speak of the devil, and he shall appear, but you only needed to think of him moments ago.

"Hey, would you two like to join Taehyung and Jeongguk for dinner?" Namjoon asks. "Jeongguk is cooking."

"Darling?" Yoongi prompts, and you nod without taking time to consider the offer. As nice as it is to have a quiet moment between just the three of you, you imagine Taehyung and Jeongguk are eager to see Yoongi again. And you did tell Jeongguk that you would be interested in the five of you getting together soon.

You, me, and our men.

Namjoon confirms that the three of you will be joining them, then ends the call and informs the two of you that you have just over two hours to get ready and meet at Taehyung's place.

"I need to change into something a little nicer," you grumble, reluctant to release Yoongi from your hold.

You remember the closet of things that are at Jimin's place, and you frown, feeling torn once more. You are glad to be returning to Yoongi's bed, by Yoongi and Namjoon's side, but having a little home away from home was nice.

"Let's head home, then?" Yoongi suggests, and you nod but continue to lean into him, breathing in his musk and feeling his warmth.

It takes coaxing to get off the couch, and you whine and grumble the entire way, stumbling over your feet as you move, arms still slung around Yoongi and refusing to let go. Namjoon chuckles and heads to the door first to put on his shoes, and Yoongi waddles in that direction, walking you backward and pressing you into the door while he leans and bends to put his shoes back on.

Only when you need to use your hands because shoving your feet into your sneakers proves feeble with the tongue and heels bending and getting stuck, do you release Yoongi, huffing and puffing indignantly the entire time.

"Want a piggyback ride, sweetheart?" Namjoon offers as he opens the front door, and you gasp loudly because yes, absolutely, you do.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, excited, and Namjoon walks outside, steps down the three short steps onto the ground, and stands with his arms held out to the sides. You run and leap onto him, wrapping your arms tight around his neck, making him wheeze as he reaches for your legs and adjusts you in his hold.

"Sorry, Joonbug," you mutter as you loosen your hold and place kisses along his nape, and Namjoon chuckles and says, "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me, don't worry."

Yoongi closes the door and falls into step beside the two of you, and off they walk to the dirt and gravel path that leads back to the main mansion. Yoongi reaches for one of Namjoon's hands, linking their fingers together, and you smile as you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder, feeling safe and warm and happy—indestructible and untouchable in this soft, quiet moment.

The walk back is peaceful, with only the sounds of footfalls crunching softly guiding you home, and you close your eyes, relaxing and breathing in the gentle bouquet of Namjoon's skin, shampoo, and laundry detergent. Despite being big and strong, with more blood on his hands than you can imagine, Namjoon is sweet, sweet, sweet, filling you from limb to limb with so much affection.

You hear the ground change underfoot and open your eyes to find yourself being carried past the driveway and garage, toward the front door. It feels good to be home, and you straighten out and watch over Namjoon's head as Yoongi takes the lead and begins to unlock the front door. Although you have cried more than necessary for one day, tears well in your eyes, and you feel so inexplicably happy to finally be home.

Yoongi takes off his shoes, then pulls yours off for you, chucking them aside while Namjoon steps from the slides he wore. There is a very light atmospheric scent to the mansion that you only now realize you have missed, and you look around at everything that is just as it was the last time you saw it—frozen in time and waiting, shrouded in dust motes that sparkle in the sunlight.

Namjoon carries you through the main hall and up the stairs, holding onto Yoongi's hand once more. Once you reach the master suite, Namjoon bends to lower you to the bed, then spins before you have a chance to fully release your hold, and closes in fast, slotting his lips against yours and sending a thrill of arousal through you. It has been far too long, and you melt into his touch.

"We have two hours," Namjoon mutters against your lips, slotting himself between your spread legs. His mouth trails low, kissing and nipping at your neck and making you shiver. "I need to have both of you before I lose my fucking mind."

"You have me," you groan, lolling your head back with pleasure. "I'm all yours. You too, kitten."

"Kitten," Yoongi repeats in a low rasp as he climbs onto the bed behind you.

The tangle of bodies is chaotic and haphazard—ravenous. Hands push and tug and remove articles of clothing while mouths desperately attempt to remain attached to mouths and skin, bruisingly firm touches and moaned confessions, making up for lost time.

You slide to the floor eager to wrap your lips around Namjoon's half-hard cock, feeling him shudder beneath your fingertips while his whimper becomes lost between Yoongi's lips. Yoongi joins you on the soft rug, and you share your prize, watching with bated breath as his pretty doll lips wrap around Namjoon's hard length. And as a show of love, you graciously allow Yoongi to swallow Namjoon's cum.

Namjoon has you on your feet and then on your back against the dark comforter so fast your head spins, and the two of them take their time pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with their mouths and fingers until Yoongi finally spins you onto your hands and knees, and fucks you so hard, you scream into Namjoon's warm, open mouth.

"Taehyung's gonna kill us for being late," Namjoon jokes as he presses Yoongi into the mattress to stretch him on one finger, then two, all the way to four. When Yoongi makes you cum with his mouth mere moments before his own orgasm hits, it feels too good to be true. And when Namjoon's back arches and he fills Yoongi with his own release, the whorling mixture of moans and whimpers in the air lulls your trembling, achingly euphoric body deep into the comforter.

You are so fucked out and high on pleasure that Namjoon has to carry you to the shower.

When Jeongguk opens Taehyung's door wide and inviting, the first words that greet you are, "Taehyung is going to kill you for being late." His eyes drift between the three of you, and you watch as his gaze hones in on the bruise you sucked into Yoongi's throat hours before.

The savory scent of meat and spices hit your nose, and you take a deep inhale, smiling as you say, "It smells amazing."

Jeongguk beams and takes a step back, giving the three of you room to enter. He wears that damned silk leopard print shirt again, this time tucked into tight black slacks, and you smirk to yourself remembering the conversation you had at Paradise; the sweet boy took your teasing to heart.

You wear a simple black short-sleeve a-line mini dress that stops mid-thigh, with a heavy Cuban link necklace encrusted in diamonds, and your hair pulled back tight. Although your makeup application skills pale in comparison to Jimin's, you managed to paint a smoky look to your eyelids and allowed Yoongi to pick out a bright red for your lips. Yoongi and Namjoon wear black tucked into black, with several buttons undone, revealing skin and silver chains.

As you step into Taehyung's home and out of your heels, Jeongguk walks ahead through the living room, off to the right. Taehyung's home takes you by surprise. His furniture is extravagant and mismatched, gaudy floral velvets and curving, carved woods. Art pieces litter walls and surfaces, from landscapes to portraits and strange carvings that may be human bodies but could be amorphous blobs.

As you walk through the space, Yoongi takes your hand and tugs you slightly back, causing you to bump into him. "You can rile Jeonggukie up if you'd like to," he mutters in your ear. "Tease him a little."

Heat licks at your senses as you remember the discussion you had with Jeongguk. Nothing could happen without the others present, and here you are, under one roof with everyone at once. Your heart soars with hopeful anticipation, and you twist to send Yoongi a wink, making him chuckle.

As you round the dividing wall into the dining area, you find a long, sprawling table adorned with dishes and covered pots of food. Past that is a black marble island against which Taehyung stands, frowning while swirling a glass of deep red wine. He wears a burgundy shirt that nearly matches his beverage, tucked into dark brown slacks, and at the sight of him, you smile widely.

"Thanks for the invite," you beam, pleased when Taehyung does not miss a beat, grumbling, "Thanks for finally fucking showing up."

"Sorry, Taehyungah," Yoongi says as he slots an arm around your waist, kicking butterflies up in your tummy. "I've been away from these two for too long…I couldn't keep my hands to myself."

With a hum, Taehyung kicks from the island and says, "I suppose it was my fault for only giving you two hours." Adding, with a dismissive wave, "All is forgiven."

"How gracious," you mutter under your breath as Jeongguk brings a final dish to the table and Taehyung urges everyone to sit.

Yoongi surprises you by taking a seat beside Jeongguk, and Namjoon pulls out the chair in front of Jeongguk's for you, so you sit and scoot in while Namjoon sits across from Yoongi, to your left, and Taehyung places himself at the head, to your right. Taehyung lifts lids from dishes, revealing pan-seared steaks and sides of potatoes, steamed and pickled vegetables, and an inviting pile of glass noodles.

"Holy shit," you mutter as your mouth waters, and Namjoon grabs your plate, asking softly what you would like and how much of each serving.

Yoongi and Jeongguk serve themselves, discussing something lowly and impossible to hear while Taehyung fills your glass with red wine. Once everyone is settled with their plates in front of them, Jeongguk raises a toast.

"To Yoongi-hyung staying happy and healthy," he beams, turning to face Yoongi, whose cheeks flush as he smiles wide, showing off his gums. "Whatever it is you're going through, you're never alone, okay, hyung? I mean that. You have a lot of support."

"Alright, enough," Yoongi grumbles, shoving his wine glass forward for the rest of you to tap yours against. Although he is doing his best to appear as grumpy and impassive as possible, the joyful glimmer in his eyes is unmistakable.

Everyone drinks and then begins to eat, and you take a deep, calming exhale before digging in, bracing yourself for a delicious meal. The food is fantastic, and you fall back in your chair after only a few bites, almost frustrated by how well Jeongguk can cook.

Namjoon chuckles from your left, and you turn to find him watching you with a smile. "That good, huh?" he asks, knowing full well the physical and emotional anguish you are experiencing.

"It's ridiculous," you complain as you sit forward and continue to eat, and when you glance at Jeongguk, he is smiling around a bite of food.

"How are you liking the new position at Paradise?" Yoongi asks as everyone begins to slow down mid-meal.

"It's fun," Jeongguk responds happily, having a sip of wine.

This feels like a good time to rile Jeongguk up, and you take a sip of your wine and prepare yourself with a deep breath for impending foolery. Tentatively, slowly, you stretch your leg forward, searching with your toes for an ankle or a calf. When the side of your foot brushes against the side of a leg, you lock eyes with Jeongguk, who gazes curiously at you over his glass.

"Jimin says you've been really enjoying it there, and that everyone is warming up to you quickly," Yoongi continues, using a knife to cut off a section of his steak.

Jeongguk clears his throat, and you drop your leg away only enough to recalibrate your aim and try again. This time, you find the inside of a calf rather than the outside, and you very delicately rub your toes against him, feeling the soft material of his slacks gather and fall away.

"Y-yeah," Jeongguk stammers, repositioning himself in his seat so that his legs are even closer—easier for you to access. "I like it there a lot, and Jimin-hyung says I'm learning the ropes pretty fast.”

You push your leg up, grazing along Jeongguk's knee as you ask, "Is there anything our Jeonggukie can't do well?"

Jeongguk's eyes widen, and he clears his throat, failing to hide the effect you have on him from even a small touch. You glance at Yoongi to find his eyes flitting briefly down at the foot between Jeongguk's legs as he bites back a smile.

"Word on the street is you're little miss popular at Paradise, too," Taehyung says, turning your attention to him. He raises an eyebrow as if studying you, and suddenly you feel nervous, like a child caught misbehaving by their teacher. You wonder if there is any way he could know what you are up to.

You clear your throat and continue to lift and press your foot forward rubbing your toes against Jeongguk's inner thigh, and from the corner of your eye, you can see him jolting slightly before slouching himself a little closer.

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung says before you have a chance to respond to his earlier inquiry, cocking his head curiously. "Care to share with the class what seems to be the matter with you?"

Rather than letting up, you rub your foot back and forward, inching slowly closer to his crotch and making him shiver as he responds, "No-nothing. Why?"

Taehyung is fast on his feet, standing and rounding the table before you can move your foot away, but you still sit up quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as Taehyung looks at Jeongguk, then looks at you.

"Playing footsie, I see," Taehyung says as he approaches Jeongguk's chair, places two hands on the tall wooden backrest, and leans close. "And without my permission."

"S-sorry, sir," Jeongguk says as his eyes fall to his plate. His entire demeanor shifts, making him seem small and weak compared to a moment ago.

"Hyung, what should we do to punish these two?"

Yoongi's smirk is sharp and knowing, and you begin to wonder whether this was his plan, all along. You wonder if he knew that encouraging you to rile up Jeongguk would get this kind of reaction from Taehyung. What if the two of them planned this ahead of time?

"Up to you, Taehyungah," Yoongi responds, sending a chill along your spine.

"I think Jeonggukie should get under the table and give our dollface here a taste of her own medicine," Taehyung suggests.

"Darling?" Yoongi asks, "Do you consent to this?"

"Yes," you respond softly, feeling somewhat dazed as your eyes trail from Yoongi's grin to Jeongguk's shocked expression and finally to a smirking Taehyung.

"You heard her, Jeongguk," Taehyung says firmly with a hint of impatience.

Without needing further instruction, Jeongguk pushes his chair back and sinks to his knees. "Yes, sir," he mutters before his head disappears under the table.

Your heart pounds, and you watch Yoongi, who sits and stares at you with his wine glass cradled between his fingers. The feeling of two warm hands spreading your legs makes you gasp and shudder, and you comply with allowing Jeongguk access, sinking further in your chair until your ass is right on its edge.

"I don't want to hear a sound from you, doll," Taehyung instructs, ripping your gaze from Yoongi to him. "If you so much as whimper, I won't let you fuck him. Understand?"

"Y-yes," you respond in time for the featherlight brush of fingers over your clothed heat, intaking a deep, quiet breath.

"Yes, sir," Taehyung instructs, and you nod emphatically as you correct yourself, saying, "Y-yes, sir."

Warm breath wafts between your legs, and you swallow thickly, glancing between Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon, who all carry on as if nothing is happening. Taehyung takes Jeongguk's seat, and the three men discuss bringing The Tigers on to take care of Jeongguk's former responsibilities, and how things have been going while Yoongi has been away. It seems Namjoon has been the family point person in Yoongi's absence, but you cannot bring yourself to listen closely to their conversation because the feeling of lips dragging over your pussy shuts out all sound around you.

With a sigh that is as silent as you can manage, you let your head fall back against the wooden chair. Warmth laps over the mesh layer covering you, and you shiver as your pelvis angles upward, chasing the sensation. You want to beg Jeongguk to move your panties aside and touch you properly, and you bite your bottom lip to keep any sound from spilling.

Namjoon is the picture of nonchalance as he leans forward and reaches for a bottle of wine to fill his empty glass. When he turns to you and reaches for yours, which is still half full, his voice is so sweet and soft, asking, "Don't care for the wine, sweetheart?"

As if determined to spoil any chance of fucking you, Jeongguk chooses this moment to tug your panties away and press the pads of his fingers against you, spreading your lips slowly and firmly. Your eyes roll back as he rubs over your clit, and you shake your head, doing your best to stay present as you say, "It's good," breathy and clearly on the brink of losing it. "It's a good wine."

"Well, then drink up, darling," Yoongi suggests, raising an eyebrow as your chest heaves. "There's plenty more wine; don't be shy."

You tremble as you lean forward and reach for your glass, gripping the stem tightly to lift it to your lips. Jeongguk's tongue flicks against you in quick, teasing tastes, and you chug back a large gulp, gasping for air once it is swallowed down as pleasure mixes with hints of a buzz.

Jeongguk wastes no more time, licking and sucking your pussy with skill and vigor. He hums between your legs, making loud wet sounds with his mouth as if you are just another course in his expertly prepared meal. You wonder if he does it to taunt the men at the table, what with how loud he is.

Arousal builds quickly, flooding you hot and fast, making you scrape your fingernails into the arms of the wooden chair as you hold your lips taut between your teeth, desperate to stay silent. It feels good. So good that you have to puff out your cheeks in order to hold back from making any sound. So good that whenever one of the men attempts to speak to you, you respond in nods or a shake of the head, all the while keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

"Do you think we are too mean to her?" Taehyung teases, and you open your eyes to find the three men watching you with hungry, dark expressions. "Perhaps asking her not to make a sound was uncalled for. After all, Jeongguk loves eating pussy, and I imagine he is giving his all to our sweet doll."

"She is quite vocal," Yoongi says with a pout as if taking pity on you.

"And she does make the sweetest sounds," Namjoon adds with a grin.

Jeongguk slips a finger into your heat, forcing your entire body to simultaneously attempt to tense and relax. Although it is not much of a stretch, the angle forces him to press against your erogenous zone, and you tremble into the feeling.

"Dollface?" Taehyung asks, and you turn your attention to him with wide, eager eyes. "Do you think my punishment is too harsh?"

You look around to all three men, attempting to gauge their expressions, which are all somewhere between curious and stern. Although Taehyung seems to be offering you a lifeline, you worry that outright agreeing might be more dangerous in the long run.

"N-no, sir," you respond, sinking a little further into bliss as Jeongguk finger-fucks and eats you out. "Ah-I was naughty and deserve to be punished."

Taehyung seems pleased, eyes widening as he says, "My, what an obedient girl. You two must have a lot of fun with her, don't you?"

Namjoon leans and drapes an arm over your shoulders, and the weight of it paired with his light, distinguishing musk and delicate cologne does nothing to stave the many tumultuous sensations eager to pour from you. Already, you climb closer to orgasm; all Jeongguk would have to do is slip a second finger inside, and you would burst in seconds.

"We sure do," Namjoon groans beside you, and the sound of his voice is too much, causing your eyes to roll back once more as you bite your lips closed.

"Since you're so desperate to be good," Taehyung says almost sardonically, "I will let you make all the sounds you need to. But only after you have been granted permission to cum, which you have to beg for."

The men in this so-called family are infuriating with their need to make you beg, and you open your mouth, letting out a quiet shuttering sigh, then lift your gaze to your devious, gracious host and ask, "Please, sir. Please, may I cum?"

"Already?" Taehyung asks, cocking his head with surprise.

"She is extremely easy to please," Yoongi says, filling you with red-hot embarrassment.

"Especially since we already made her nice and sensitive earlier," Namjoon adds. "I bet she will become overstimulated fast."

"I'm close," you say, voice coming out a little too broken—too close to a whimper. "Sir, please. I'll never misbehave again, please, please."

The squelch of Jeongguk's finger fucking into you becomes audible, and Namjoon shifts beside you as he asks, "Are you using two fingers, Gguk?"

Frantically, you shake your head, eager to tell Namjoon, No, please, don't encourage him. But Jeongguk is obedient as can be, and he slides his finger out only to press two deep inside. The stretch makes your mouth fall agape, and you huff out silent vowels, holding back so much you practically choke on air.

"Please," you try again, staring ahead at Taehyung while doing your best to school your features. Pleasure tugs at every inch of you, knitting your brows and forcing your mouth open to hang wide, and you croak around each syllable, muttering like a prayer, "Please, please, please."

"Ggukie," Taehyung calls, "is she close, baby?"

Jeongguk licks a long, slow stripe over you, then calls, "Her muscles keep tensing and relaxing; she feels very close," before getting back to work, making your head absolutely spin.

"I am close," you mutter just above a whisper, desperate. "I'm so close. Please, sir. Please let me cum."

"Are you sure you deserve to?" Taehyung asks.

Petulance rises, and you rotate to glance between Yoongi and Namjoon with a look of sheer desperation that the two of them all but ignore. You confessed your love to these two monsters, and this is the way they treat you in a time of mental and emotional collapse; unbelievable!

"Please," you turn your attention back to Taehyung. You are so close to the edge, every fiber of your being trembles under the pressure of tightening your muscles and staving off release, but you are not sure you can hold on much longer. Orgasm denial is not something you are used to; pretty soon, your body will give into Jeongguk's very talented mouth and fingers and do what it wants to, permission be damned.

Yoongi stands slowly, scraping his chair legs against the wooden floor, then he rounds the table with a look of hunger, slowly stalking. Although you attempt to follow his movements, just having him nearer makes it more and more difficult to hold back. Clearly, these men are determined to torture you.

Yoongi grabs your chairback with both hands, which you see from the corners of your eyes, then he leans close, filling your senses with his musk, asking, "Is our Jeonggukie making you feel good, darling?"

You nod emphatically, biting your lips closed for fear of moaning if you attempt to speak. Jeongguk's fingers press over the sweet spot that makes you crumble so easily, and you squeeze your eyes closed in an attempt to hold your composure.

"Use your words, sweetheart," Namjoon instructs.

"Ye—" you huff and sigh, eyes widening as Jeongguk's tongue laves and twirls, sloppy and wet. "Y-yes, sir," you practically moan, jaw trembling around each syllable.

"Poor thing," Taehyung teases, "just look at her fall apart."

"Please, sir," you mutter, closing your eyes. "Please, please, please."

With each push and pull of Jeongguk's fingers, you lose the ability to hold on any longer. Your body quakes from the storm that rages inside you, and heat pools and pools, ebbing but never flowing.

"Please," you beg more desperately. "Sir, please!"

"Can't hold on any longer, can you?" Yoongi asks, and you shake your head, muttering, "No, sir; I can't."

With a sigh, almost as if he is annoyed, Taehyung sits forward with both elbows against the table and says, "Alright, pretty doll. Cum for us."

The moment you relax, orgasm rushes through you, dragging you straight to the depths of hell. You practically scream, "Oh, god!" as Jeongguk plunges his fingers deep, sucking at your clit gently in a rhythm that pulls pleasure from every inch of you.

You grip the chair tightly and squeeze your eyes closed, gasping and panting while you cum on Jeongguk's fingers and tongue, coating him in a release that pours from you, hitting your thighs in droplets. Yoongi's arms wrap around you, one splayed hand on your chest while the other loosely grips onto your throat, holding you firmly in place.

Overstimulation hits just as fast as your orgasm had, and you sob and begin to pull your hips back, eager to force Jeongguk to stop but unwilling to call a safe word or command him to. Jeongguk's mouth feels good—different from the ways Yoongi and Namjoon pleasure you, though you are incapable of determining how. Heat fills your cheeks at the thought of Jeongguk wanting this for as long as you have, and you begin to pull away with more intention, this time.

"Too much," you beg. "Please, I can't—"

Jeongguk's lips and fingers fall away instantly, leaving you drenched and shivering as the air hits your exposed pussy. Yoongi lets up on his hold around you, and you catch your breath, heaving each exhale through your lungs as if you had just been drowning.

"Magnificent," Taehyung praises with a smile. "Namjoon is right, you really do make pretty sounds, doll."

"Th-thank you, sir," you gasp, feeling equal parts thrilled and humiliated to cum with Taehyung watching you.

"Can you take more?" Taehyung asks with a raise of an eyebrow. He scoots his chair back and Jeongguk crawls between his legs, resting his head on Taehyung's lap with a dopey, wet smile that you can just barely see past the table. Taehyung rakes his fingers through Jeongguk's hair, keeping his eyes on you. "I can restrain this pretty boy and let you have your way with him, if you would like."

Using Jeongguk for your own pleasure sounds like a fantastic idea, and although you are overstimulated, you nod, slowing your breathing as you say, "I would like that, sir."

"Wonderful!" Taehyung beams, giving Jeongguk a soft pat on the head. "Get a head start, baby. I want to find you in the throne room, naked, in the center of the bed, understand?"

Jeongguk sits high on his knees, tilting his head up to Taehyung with an expression that pours over with affection. "Yes, sir," he says as Taehyung leans down and presses their lips together. Then he stands, and you notice the drool and cum that coats his chin and chest, shimmering in the light. Your gaze flickers to Taehyung just in time to notice him licking his lips, and you burn with the knowledge that he can also taste you.

Jeongguk leaves the room, and you take the opportunity to reach for your refilled wine glass and chug its contents back, gasping on your next breath while your hands tremble. Taehyung stands and returns to his seat, to the right of you, leaning against the top of the backrest.

"How are you feeling?" he asks in a tone sweet enough to take you by surprise.

"Good," you respond truthfully, sitting up and squeezing your thighs tight.

"It goes without saying, but you absolutely do not have to keep going if you need to stop," he assures you, and you smile, giving a slight nod and muttering, "I'm good. I'm enjoying myself."

"Yoongi-hyung? Namjoon-hyung?" Taehyung asks.

"Perfect," Namjoon responds as Yoongi says, "I'm having a great time."

"Good," Taehyung says, clapping his hands together once. "I was prepared to have more of a conversation, but none of that seems necessary, so let's dive right in. Jeongguk and I use the stoplight safeword system, do you know what that is?"

You clear your throat and nod, having learned about this from your days in sex work. "Green for continue, red for stop," you say, unsure what their use of yellow might be, as sometimes it can vary.

"Exactly," Taehyung praises as he walks over and leaves a gentle pat against your head. "Yellow means slow down or let up, depending on what you are doing. You can check in and demand a color, but he is good about calling when he needs to. As for you—" he raises an eyebrow with his hands on his hips, "—Jeongguk and I have agreed that you can fuck him as long as I get to tell you what to do. Yoongi and Namjoon are also welcome to command you. Of course, if there is something you do not enjoy, you get the final say and can call a color, or simply tell us no. We want you to enjoy this experience to the fullest and will never demand anything you dislike. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," you mutter while wrapping your head around everything, feeling equally eager and nervous.

"Perfect," Taehyung says. "I just need ten minutes to get him ready for you…we're in the first door on the right."

As Taehyung begins to walk in the direction Jeongguk went, you sit up with a start. "Wait," you say, feeling nervous to voice your concern. "I…I've never been…dominant, before. Is there anything I should know? Or do?"

With a grin, Taehyung turns his attention back to you, raking his eyes over you before he shrugs and says, "Just have fun. Jeongguk gets very sensitive if you tease him long enough…so you can lean into that if it's something you enjoy. That is, as long as you are being obedient to our orders."

You nod and say, "Understood," and Taehyung turns away and begins to exit the room.

"These heathens left a mess behind," Yoongi grumbles as he gets to work covering pots of food and moving them to the stove before opening the cabinets to find storage containers. Namjoon follows suit, collecting plates and wine glasses to rinse and stack in the sink, and you sit in your chair in a bit of a daze, staring around the room, half-noticing the curved shapes of wood carvings on the chairs and the faint shapes of houseplants that you are not able to fully perceive.

Once the table is clear, Yoongi pulls back a sleeve and checks his watch. "It's been about ten minutes," he says. "Shall we?"

"Best not to make Taehyung wait twice," Namjoon teases as he approaches and reaches a hand for you to take.

Everything feels hazy and dream-like as the two of them lead you through Taehyung's house to the stairs near the front foyer. Each step creeks gently underfoot, and the closer you climb to the second level, the more frenzied your heart becomes. Your panties are soaked, askew, and uncomfortable, and your hand prickles with sweat in Namjoon's firm hold, which you grip a little tighter once you get to the upper landing.

"Ready?" Namjoon asks sweetly, and you nod, muttering, "Yes, daddy," earning your palm a squeeze.

As soon as you turn to enter the hallway, and turn again to the first room on the right, it becomes evident that this is not the master suite but a room they have specifically for sex. To the left in this large room is a king-sized four-poster bed covered in black satin with black mesh hanging down over and tied neatly to each post. Rigged between the two posts at the head of the bed is some metal bar contraption that Jeongguk is attached to, and it takes a few moments of staring at him for the scene to fully settle in.

Jeongguk is nude with his hands over his head, arms extended long, with his wrists restrained high enough that he has to sit tall on his legs. Except his thighs have leather straps around them, connected to leather straps around his ankles, suspending him in a somewhat strange position, as he does not seem able to fully sit tall or relax all the way down.

"Breathtaking, isn't he?" Taehyung asks from a large black and gold throne to the right, overlooking the scene. He sits slouched against one arm of the square, wooden seat with a leg slung over the other arm, lounged and looking bored.

You nod and mutter, "Yes, sir," as you turn your attention back to Jeongguk, whose head hangs slightly forward, short dark hair messy and covering his eyes.

And he really is breathtaking. The way he sits has so many muscles taut and strained, covering his body in beautiful topography. His pierced nipples glimmer in the golden light of the room, and there is a perfectly inviting trail of dark hairs that travel from his cute, round navel down to the cock that hangs heavy and semi-soft between his legs.

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung calls, voice magnanimous yet sharp, "eyes up, baby."

Jeongguk lifts his head, and already his eyes look glazed over and a little lost, as if the simple act of being restrained is enough to give him immense pleasure. When his gaze lands on you, a dopey smile tugs at his lips, which he wets with his tongue, dragging the inviting pink muscle slowly as if to tell you that he can still taste you—or, perhaps, that he wants to taste you again.

"Dollface," Taehyung calls, and you turn to look at him with wide, eager eyes, feeling somewhat intoxicated by this entire scene and still reeling from what happened downstairs.

"Yes, sir?" you ask sweetly.

"Unless we say so, from now on, keep your eyes on Jeongguk, understand?"

"Yes, sir," you respond, turning your attention back to Jeongguk.

"I imagine this setup is a bit overwhelming for you," Taehyung continues. "What is your color, pretty?"

This setup is overwhelming, but you are incredibly intrigued and find this submissive side of Jeongguk rather promising. "Green, sir."

"Good," Taehyung says as Namjoon's palm slides away from your hold and both men walk toward Taehyung, leaving you alone. "I want you to strip, right where you stand, keeping your eyes on Jeongguk. Can you do that for us?"

With a nod, you swallow a lump of nervousness and respond, "Yes, sir."

The dress zips in the back, and you reach with your right hand, fumbling with the material before reaching with your left hand to grip onto the dress and slide the zipper down. You only make it a few inches and have to bunch the dress up even more, feeling grateful this the material is actually loose and that you are not stuck having to contort yourself uselessly for an audience. It takes time, though—bunching, unzipping, bunching some more, unzipping some more—until finally, you are able to reach back with your arms lowered and get ahold of the zipper, tugging it down to your waist.

Jeongguk watches intently as you slide the black dress down, away from your chest. You wear a thin, mesh black bra and matching panties, and you feel your nipples begin to harden beneath the material as the air hits your exposed skin, causing a very slight shiver to work its way along your back.

When the dress falls past your hips, down to the floor, all that covers you are thin, small swathes of black material, and you fight the urge to lift your arms to shield yourself, holding your arms stiffly to your sides while you stare at Jeongguk, who stares back.

"Strip all the way down, darling," Yoongi instructs, and you mutter, "Yes, sir," as you reach back and unclasp the bra.

Jeongguk's gaze widens and softens as the material falls away to the floor in a heap in front of you, and his eyes follow the path of your hands, down to where your thumbs hook under your panties and push-pull them away.

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung calls, "how is she?"

"Beautiful," Jeongguk responds in a dreamy, faraway tone. "She's perfect."

"Dollface, join our sweet boy on the bed, please," Taehyung instructs.

"Yes, sir," you say as you force your feet to step from the pile of clothing and move forward. The bed is tall enough that you need to place your hands down and swing one knee up, hoisting yourself forward. You crawl to Jeongguk, and then sit tall on your knees before him. From this close, he is a work of art—a perfect blend of soft and firm lines that appear handcrafted with utmost care.

"Dollface, I want you to tease our sweet Jeonggukie. You are not allowed to touch his cock or asshole unless given permission, but everything else is fair game. Rile him up, make him whine, make him beg. He likes it a little rough so don't be afraid to pinch, slap, scratch, bite…whatever it takes to drive him crazy. Does all this sound good?"

"Yes sir," you respond, unmoving as you decide where to start. It feels like you have been given too many choices, and suddenly, you feel overwhelmed. "Can I kiss him, sir?" you ask, inching closer on your knees.

"Of course, doll," Taehyung calls happily, and you continue to inch closer.

Sitting high on your knees, you reach up and drag the backs of your fingernails over Jeongguk's cheeks, causing him to tremble and take in a deep, slow breath. His eyelids flutter, but he keeps his gaze on you, lips lifting and moving slightly, as if he has something to say. As your right hand continues to work its way up, over a scratchy shaved undercut and into thick, straight hair, your left thumb drags down, over his bottom lip, pulling it past his teeth until it stretches to its limit and pops back into place.

"So pretty," you whisper, watching Jeongguk's eyes widen. He must not be allowed to speak unless spoken to, but you have been given no such instruction. "I've never done something like this before. You're my first."

Jeongguk's mouth twitches around a syllable left unvoiced, and you lean forward and suck his bottom lip between your teeth, soft at first, then a little harder, making Jeongguk gasp, tasting skin and metal. You dart your tongue out to soothe over the scrape of your teeth, unable to hold in a whimper when Jeongguk's tongue meets yours, and you take the sides of his face in both hands to deepen the kiss, shoving your tongue into his mouth, forcing him to open around you while he moans, soft and inviting.

You lick hints of your own arousal from his mouth, then smile against his lips as you say, "You taste like me…so sweet," watching with delight as he holds back from responding, brows knitting as if pained.

This time, when you kiss him, you take his hair in both hands and grip. Jeongguk groans as his head is yanked backward, and you suck and nip at his bottom lip, making him whimper uselessly, darting his tongue out as if in search of a deeper kiss—desperate.

"So pretty," you say again while nipping at his jaw, holding his hair tight in your grip and letting your teeth snag and tease the skin all the way to his ear.

Jeongguk trembles in your hold, and when you reach his ear, taking it gently in your teeth, he lets out a sweet little song of, "Ah-ah-ah," shivering madly in your grasp while his back arches.

"Oh you are sensitive," you tease before taking his earlobe between your teeth again, a little more roughly, until he cries out a pitchy little yelp.

"Color, baby?" you ask, to which Jeongguk quickly responds, "Green, noona."

Hearing Jeongguk call you noona should not excite you so much, but arousal builds between your legs, and you feel the urge to keep pushing him for more. You nibble down the long, salty-sweet expanse of Jeongguk's neck, savoring the taste of his sweat, dragging your fingernails from his hair, to the back of his neck, over to his shoulders, and down along his spine. Jeongguk responds in jerks and gasps, and you continue down, down, until your mouth reaches one of his pierced nipples.

With a flick of your tongue, Jeongguk responds as if he has been shocked, back bowing as his body shakes. His pebbled, pierced skin is inviting, and you lick again, this time slowly dragging your tongue over him, feeling every tiny curve, tasting hints of titanium.

You scrape your fingernails down Jeongguk's ribs while you suck his pierced nipple into your mouth, reveling in the sweet, broken sounds he makes. He seems to be holding back, and you feel determined to make him sob. Although you two are becoming closer as friends, he was a bit of a prick to you for months, and you intend to let him know that you have not forgotten.

"Color?" you ask, knowing it'll be green, just to make him speak.

"Green, noona," Jeongguk responds almost robotically—not good enough.

Once more, you sit up tall, taking his hair in one hand and his jaw in the other. Your hand trembles as you pull it back and crash your fingertips against his cheek, gasping in tandem as Jeongguk's eyes widen, difficult to read.

"Color?" you ask, receiving, "Green, noona," instantly.

You slap again, this time a little harder, and Jeongguk gasps but holds his composure nicely. So you tug his hair harder, just enough to pull his head back, before you slap again. The skin of his cheek begins to redden, and you give it quick, softer taps, moving your fingertips little by little, covering the expanse of his cheek.

"Color?"

"Green, noona."

This time, when you slap, it stings your fingertips, and Jeongguk groans. His cheeks seem to be the wrong place to tease, however, so you sit back, releasing his hair and rethinking your plan.

"Darling," Yoongi calls, and you nearly turn to look at him but correct yourself, staring Jeongguk in the eyes as you say, "Yes, sir?"

"The way he's suspended is really taxing on the legs. If you're trying to hurt the poor boy, I recommend the thighs."

Jeongguk's eyes widen further, and you smirk as you say, "Yes, sir."

From across the room, you hear Taehyung gleefully say, "Hyung you are evil."

Slowly, you drag your fingernails from Jeongguk's shoulders, along the curves of his pecs, down his ribs. Finally, at his hips, you allow yourself to look down and find a very inviting semi-erect cock hanging between his legs. Of course, Jeongguk is perfect in every way, and you bite your lip as you attempt to pull your vision away, to his thighs instead.

With both hands splayed open, you lift and crash your palms down onto Jeongguk's thighs, and he cries out, sobbing on the end of the sound. A thrill quakes through you, and you rub your hands over his thighs, lift both, and slam your left one down hard.

"Fu—ahh!" Jeongguk screams.

"Color, baby?" you ask sweetly.

You glance up and catch him hesitating before saying, "Green, noona."

Without giving him a chance to relax, you slap your right hand down, followed by your left, watching his face as it contorts in pleasured pain while he bleats pathetically.

"Color?"

"G-green, noona."

Again and again, you slap, moving your hands over to the sides of his thighs, rubbing your palms and alternating which side slaps, never in a discernable pattern, always to catch him off guard.

Finally, you ask, "Color, pretty," impressed when he gasps, "Yellow, noona!"

Gently, you rub your hands over his thighs and sink down low, rubbing your cheek and lips over his left thigh, smiling sweetly against him. From here, there is a gentle, inviting musk coming from his lap that is difficult to resist. You lick your lips at the thought of swallowing him whole, then turn your face away, kissing the sore, warm skin of his leg while breathing through the arousal that licks at you, urging you to be selfish and take.

"Sweetheart," Namjoon calls, and you sit up, eyes on Jeongguk as you say, "Yes, daddy?"

Curiosity flashes in Jeongguk's eyes, and you wonder if he is attempting to calculate the various dynamics of your relationship. Using the term daddy with an audience is slightly embarrassing, and you shift in place, waiting for his response.

"I don't think Jeongguk got a good enough look at you under that table. You should sit back and touch yourself for him…show him how wet he made you."

The edges of Jeongguk's lips curve, and you hesitate. It is not that you don't want to touch yourself with an audience, but it does add to the humiliation to have your two partners and one of their best friends sitting on the sidelines, watching you.

"Color, doll?" Taehyung asks.

Somehow, the concern in his voice grounds you, and you say, "Green, sir," adding, "Thank you for the advice, daddy," so that Namjoon does not feel left out.

"Such a good girl," Namjoon praises as you sit back and scoot enough to spread your thighs around Jeongguk.

There is more than enough room on the large bed to sprawl out, but you stay close, sweeping one of your feet against the outside of Jeongguk's restrained leg as you reach your hand between your legs and slowly drag your fingers over yourself, spreading and teasing your folds.

Desire burns through you as you touch yourself while Jeongguk watches, eyes wide and hungry, trailing from your pussy, over your body, and back down. Slowly, you sink your middle finger inside, and although the size is nowhere near enough to stretch, a thrill quakes through you, making you moan as you gather release from your earlier orgasm and pull your finger out.

Jeongguk licks his lips, intently watching as you use your slick finger to spread yourself and swirl over your clit. It feels good, a simmering pleasure that covers you in warmth, and you loll your head back, hesitant to let go enough to moan, whimpering more softly than usual.

"Be vocal, darling," Yoongi calls, and you squeeze your eyes closed for a second as you say, "Yes, sir," frustrated that absolutely nothing can get past these men, but also grateful for the push.

You still hesitate as you open your mouth to moan, but with each sound you make, Jeongguk appears to lose his composure more and more. With a nibble on your lower lip, you circle over your clit, then rub down to your hole, up and down, gathering more and more release, becoming wetter and wetter, all for him.

"Do you like what you see?" you ask, eager to tease despite the tremble in your voice.

"Yes, noona," Jeongguk gasps, swallowing thickly before his mouth falls wide.

"So wet for you, Jeonggukie," you moan, using your other hand to rub and pinch at your breasts. "Too bad you can't fuck me."

Jeongguk whimpers and shakes in his restraints, legs straining and arms moving. His distress urges you on, and you rub over your breasts more, gathering and squeezing the soft skin between your fingers while dipping two fingers into your pussy.

"I want you so bad," you pout, watching as Jeongguk crumbles. "My fingers aren't big enough…but you are."

"Please," Jeongguk mutters, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Please, sir. Please."

"Begging already?" Taehyung teases and Jeongguk nods emphatically.

Jeongguk's voice sounds dreamy, and he licks his lips again. "Please, sir. I've been good."

You can hear Taehyung stand and begin to approach before he comes into view, climbing onto the bed, on his knees, reaching up to drag his fingertips up and down the length of Jeongguk's arms. At first, you feel shy to be on display for him, but Taehyung does not regard you, keeping his eyes on Jeongguk.

"You really have been very good," Taehyung praises as he nuzzles against Jeongguk's neck. Jeongguk leans into the touch, doing his best to keep his eyes on you as Taehyung continues. "You cooked an excellent meal, and you were very obedient when I told you to make our doll cum."

"I've been good, sir," Jeongguk whimpers as if stuck on repeat. "Please, sir. I've been good."

Without another word, Taehyung reaches up and begins to undo Jeongguk's wrist restraints, slowly lowering his arms one by one and rubbing his palms from Jeongguk's shoulders to his hands. With a sigh that sounds like relief, Jeongguk sits back on his heels.

"I'll undo your legs too, but you have to behave," Taehyung says as he begins to unhook one of the thigh restraints. "You are only allowed to do as you are told and nothing more, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jeongguk responds with a sharp smile, eyes focused on you.

Although your moments have slowed, you continue to tease yourself with your fingers, watching as Taehyung crawls around Jeongguk's back to free his other thigh. Taehyung crawls backward, then stands beside the bed, out of your direct line of vision.

"Sit back," he commands, patting the bed, and Jeongguk does as he is told, sliding back and extending his legs in front of him, settling against the tall wooden headboard.

"Dollface," Taehyung calls, and you keep your eyes on Jeongguk but instinctively begin to sit up as you respond, "Yes, sir?"

"He's all yours," Taehyung says as his voice travels back to where the throne sits. "Have fun."

"Thank you, sir," you respond as you sit forward, getting swiftly onto your hands and knees.

With the possibilities suddenly seemingly endless, you feel overwhelmed, but you crawl forward and cage Jeongguk's reddened thighs, hovering close to his leaking cock, which sits pretty and thick against his tummy.

"Is Jeongguk an impatient man, sir?" you ask, watching as Jeongguk fails to keep his expressions schooled, eyes sharpening and widening.

"Extremely impatient," Taehyung responds, making Jeongguk huff a sigh. "If you decide to go slow it might drive him insane."

With a smirk, you mutter, "Noted, sir," then lean forward, touching the very tip of your tongue to the very bottom of Jeongguk's shaft and dragging up slow, slow, slow. His skin is velvet-soft, and you drool as you lift your head just below the crown, humming as Jeongguk trembles and gasps.

You kiss over the crown, right where the skin is softest, pressing your lips nice and wide before sucking and lapping at the skin in slow, gentle movements. Jeongguk groans, sounding almost pained, and you continue to lick languidly, teasing the skin, giving him just enough pressure to feel something but not enough to satiate any hunger.

"Please," Jeongguk whispers, and you glance up, tongue outstretched against him, to find a look of desperation tugging at the corners of his eyes. You hesitate to respond for a fraction of a second, feeling momentarily astounded that this is happening.

"Please, what?" you urge, watching as his jaw trembles.

"Please, noona. Please touch me more."

Teasing Jeongguk is a thrill, but you are quickly losing your composure, and as much as you want to listen to him beg and beg, you are also too eager to continue holding back. In a swift movement, you tilt your head forward and swallow Jeongguk's cock, taking him only halfway while sucking on the tip.

Jeongguk moans loud and eager, music to your ears. You hear Taehyung say, "Hands at your sides," and imagine Jeongguk must have been moments away from taking your head in his hands, sending a thrill down your spine.

With a pleased groan, you lift your head and settle a little higher on your knees between Jeongguk's spread legs. At this angle, you can take him into your mouth much more easily, and you sink down until he nearly hits your throat, feeling the tight squeeze of your lips accommodate his girth.

"Fuck," Jeongguk mutters, "you feel so good."

Jeongguk's words of encouragement spur you on, and you hum happily as you bob your head slow but steady, lodging his cock into your throat just enough that it nearly makes you gag before coming back for air. You can hear the sound of his fists gripping the sheet below, soft material scratching against blunt fingernails—a quiet, tactile cry of desperation.

As you lift your head, you swirl your tongue over his shaft, then release, opening your eyes and looking upward, watching as Jeongguk melts from the sight of you holding your mouth wide, saliva falling like garland hung between your tongue and his cock.

"You taste good, Ggukie," you say as the spit breaks and falls against your chin and chest, some dripping onto your knees. Eager to tease but nervous to dirty talk, you swallow thickly and do your best to sound confident as you crawl high onto your knees and begin to straddle his lap. "I could do this all day…but I want to feel you so badly."

"God, yes," Jeongguk groans, gripping tightly to the comforter at his sides. "Please, noona."

"What a shame you can't touch me," you pout while wrapping your arms around his shoulders, sitting high on your knees. "I bet you could make me feel so good."

You tilt your hips low, dragging yourself over Jeongguk's length, coating him in your arousal. Jeongguk whimpers and it sounds so sweet and so needy, you bite your lip and smile. Slowly, you push your chest out, dragging your breasts over his clavicle and pecs, and Jeongguk looks pained from how little you are giving him.

You lean close and mutter, "Kiss me. Show me how badly you want me."

With a groan, Jeongguk tilts his mouth to yours and eagerly sucks at your bottom lip before prising your mouth open, making way for his tongue. You hold him steady, keeping his head close, but still, he leans his face into yours, groaning desperately, rough in the way his forehead and nose press against yours, desperate in the way his teeth gnash and nip between wide, ravenous licks.

You part from the kiss and grip onto Jeongguk's chin, smirking as you angle your hips forward, surprising yourself with how easily you snag Jeongguk's cock on your entrance and begin to lower yourself on him. Jeongguk's eyes widen then roll back as you lower and lift your hips just enough to tease his tip, sighing through the stretch.

"Please," Jeongguk mutters, eyes and mouth fluttering and trembling so pretty and so wrecked. "Noona, please fuck me. Please, please, please."

"Awe, baby," you tease, lowering yourself further, gasping a silent sob from how incredible he feels. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

"She caved so quickly," Taehyung grumbles, reminding you that you have an audience, causing your cheeks to warm with humiliation.

Yoongi chuckles as he mutters, "I'm actually shocked by how long she held out."

You roll your eyes despite Yoongi being correct about your impatience. Holding back for as long as you have has not been easy, and truthfully, you deserve to be praised for your efforts.

"Typically, she's begging us in an instant," Namjoon adds, and you bite back an indignant smile.

You would absolutely run your mouth if you thought the three doms chiding you would let you away with it, but you are not eager to test them—not with Taehyung, who seems to have the firmest willpower and most sadistic tendencies, present. You finally have Jeongguk nestled deep inside you, and you are not willing to fuck this up for either of you.

The unraveled straps of the restraints that were wrapped around Jeongguk's wrists hang low, about a foot above his shoulders, and you reach up, gripping onto the leather. You hold on tight and moan as you lift and swivel your hips, teasing Jeongguk's tip and pulling a soft, impatient huff from his chest.

Jeongguk's eyes rove over your body, up to your face, as he cranes his head back. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and you tilt your head to the side to ask, "What is it? Speak, boy."

"Beautiful," Jeongguk mutters sweetly, and you feel your heart skip a beat. You smile, then bite it back, trying to be a tease, not feel fluffy.

"Shut up," you grumble quietly, lowering your hips just enough to make Jeongguk croak out a soft moan before lifting. With the help of the straps, you find a good angle for your back to arch, allowing you to bounce your ass just enough to tease his tip.

Jeongguk whines and huffs, squeezing the sheet below him, causing peaks of material to form—mountains of tested patience reaching a breaking point. And although it feels good to stretch yourself around just the end of him, you want the rest, so you release one strap and then the other, settling with your hands on his shoulders and sinking down deep with a moan and pleasure flows through you in waves.

"Fuck," Jeongguk whimpers, dragging the word out long.

The stretch is enough to make you quake, but you do not have the ability to keep teasing yourself, even if it means finally caving in and giving Jeongguk what he wants. You lift your hips and drop them, choking on a sob that is punctuated by a deep moan. Pleasure bursts and settles into your limbs, tingling through you like electricity, and you wrap your arms tight around his shoulder and neck and begin to fuck yourself on his length.

"Feels so good," you moan, eyes shut and head tilted back, using Jeongguk to chase your high, eager to cum all over him and make a fucking mess.

Jeongguk's lips drag over your neck and shoulder, huffing hot breath that turns your skin sticky, and you do your best to keep a steady rhythm, climbing closer and closer to bliss, reaching the precipice little by little.

"God, look at her," Namjoon groans, making you shiver. You shouldn't be so greedy, but you do wish Namjoon could climb onto this bed and help you use Jeongguk.

"Stunning, always," Yoongi responds, and your heart and soul yearn for him, desperate to feel Yoongi once more, even if it has only been hours since the last time.

"Our poor Gguk is going to rip holes in this sheet by the time I allow him to touch her," Taehyung teases. "I haven't seen him this wound up in ages."

Jeongguk sighs and groans, then leans slightly back as his head lolls from side to side. He looks like he is about to burst, and you slow your hips, watching intently as he shakes his head and frowns, muttering, "Please, noona, please don't stop."

Rather than listen to his pleas, you lift your hips all the way, sending his cock to hit his tummy in a wet splat. Jeongguk grumbles, and you lean in to nibble at his chin and jaw until he shivers, then you back away from his lap and spin around.

As soon as you turn away from Jeongguk and lift your head, you are met with your own reflection, staring back from a floor-to-ceiling mirror that runs from the door to the conjoining wall. You gasp as you take in the sight of yourself on your hands and knees covered in a sheen of sweat, with Jeongguk sitting high on his knees behind you.

Jeongguk watches the mirror, smiling as you regain your composure and back up on your knees, grabbing for his cock with one hand while lowering yourself down. As soon as you are partially seated on his erection, you use both hands to spread your ass, arching your back as you lower yourself, eyes on the mirror to see Jeongguk staring down, moaning with his mouth hung wide.

"Like what you see, baby?" you ask as you begin to raise and lower your hips.

Jeongguk's eyes snap to the mirror, and he appears dazed as he says, "Yes, noona."

You sit up high on your knees and anchor your hands against your thighs as you begin to ride Jeongguk, finding a steady rhythm that sends your pleasure building once more. At this angle, his tip rubs over your erogenous zone, and you tilt your head back, moaning and gasping with each delicious drag.

With one hand gripping to your thigh, you reach the other between your legs, rubbing over your clit, desperate to cum. Your hope is that once you orgasm, you can barter with the doms to allow Jeongguk to touch you; you want his hands on you, groping, squeezing, and holding you down. Just the thought alone has you speeding toward bliss, and you press your fingertips just a little more firmly against your clit and slam your hips down so hard it stings.

"Fuck," you whimper, chasing your high faster and faster, "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum."

The sound of one of the men clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth makes you jolt, and you begin to fear the worst. Sure enough, Taehyung asks, "Did we say you could cum, pretty?" and you begin to feel frantic, though you do not slow your movements.

"N-no," you mutter weakly, "but, I thought—"

"I'm just toying with you, pretty," Taehyung interrupts with a chuckle, filling you with relief.

"If I cum, will you let him touch me, sir?" you ask, watching Jeongguk's lips twitch through the mirror.

"I suppose I could allow that," Taehyung responds. "Since you've been so obedient."

"Yes," you whimper, lifting and slamming your hips, so close to the edge. "Thank you, sir."

"Fucking squeezing me," Jeongguk groans behind you, and you glance into the mirror to find him sitting tense, staring down at your ass.

Jeongguk looks fucked out and on the brink of collapse with sweat dripping down his neck and his face screwed up in both pleasure and impatience. You imagine him holding you down against the mattress to use you just as you have used him, and that thought is exactly what you need to plummet into euphoria.

"Fuck," you whimper, "I'm gonna—"

Your orgasm crashes through you, snapped suddenly with a burst of energy that throws you forward as you quake and sob, gripping onto the black satin sheet with both hands while you desperately move your hips, chasing more and more until you are no longer able to move, moaning and sobbing as your muscles tense and release around Jeongguk. You squeeze around him, eager to chase more bliss, but your body feels tired, and your legs quake.

"Sir, please," you whimper as your hips slow and you become too overcome to keep a steady rhythm, "please let him touch me."

"Jeongguk really has excellent stamina," Taehyung says, sending a chill through you as he adds, "if we allow him to fuck her, he might just break her in half."

"She can take it," Yoongi insists in a tone that is familiar and dangerous. "She can handle the two of us, after all."

After a short pause, Taehyung calls, "Jeonggukie," and you glance into the mirror, watching as Jeongguk's mouth twists into a sharp, dangerous smirk.

"Yes, sir?" he responds, eyes on your reflection.

"You have permission to touch and to speak," Taehyung says, and you watch as Jeongguk releases the poor sheet from his grip, stretching and squeezing his palms at his sides. "The hyungs say she cums really easily…but I bet you can't give her three more orgasms by the time you're finished."

It should be terrifying the way Jeongguk looks down at you suddenly as if you are a piece of meat, licking at his teeth while dragging his hands from your hips to your shoulders, and back down. Jeongguk adjusts behind you, still buried deep, and he settles with one hand on your hip and the other gripping the back of your neck.

"Stay on your hands and knees," Jeongguk instructs firmly, making you shiver. "And keep your eyes on me."

You barely have a chance to mutter, "Yes, sir," before he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, spearing you on his length far deeper than when you were riding him. The pleasure-pain is incredible, and the moan that falls from your lips is broken, no more than rough a burst of air. Jeongguk wastes no time digging his fingertips into your soft skin and setting a pace that is brutal enough to make you scream.

It feels impossible to keep your eyes open and on Jeongguk's reflection, but you do your best, only allowing your eyelids to flutter closed momentarily. Jeongguk is very clearly punishing you for teasing him so much, and you do your best to take everything he gives you, moaning and sobbing with each deep thrust.

"Fuck, you feel so good, doll," Jeongguk groans, digging his fingertips deeper. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my fucking hands off you?"

The hand around your neck moves up to your face, and Jeongguk slides two fingers into the side of your mouth, gently tugging as he holds your head up, keeping your back bowed and ass held high.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he groans, lifting the hand on your hip to smack your ass, making you squeal around his fingers from the tingle of pain. "So fucking wet."

Jeongguk's praises make your head spin, and it takes no time at all to chase another high. Your reflection is absolutely debauched, and you stare ahead at yourself and at Jeongguk, still unable to shake the surprise that this is actually, finally happening. Jeongguk is absolutely ruthless with his thrusts, and you squeeze around him in a rhythm that matches his, building and building your next orgasm, quaking uncontrollably as it begins to roll through you like a hurricane.

"You're fucking cuming again, aren't you?" Jeongguk groans as your muscles flutter around him.

"Yes," you mutter, attempting to nod with your head stuck in place. "Yes, please, please make me cum again."

Jeongguk slides the hand from your mouth, down to your shoulder, and fucks into you, moaning to match your sounds as your orgasm reaches its peak and causes you to sob and slip forward, unable to hold yourself up. Although you are disobeying his rule to stay on your hands, Jeongguk seems unphased, and he rubs his hands over your back and then presses your shoulders down into the soft sheet while his hips stay just as steady.

"She really is fucking easy," Jeongguk teases as he leans forward, pressing his weight into you.

You turn your head to the side and lock eyes with Namjoon, who sits on one wide, wooden arm of the throne with his legs spread wide, watching you with a fire burning in his gaze.

"Incredible, isn't she?" Yoongi asks, and you move your focus to him, on the other arm of the wooden throne, leaning forward with one elbow on his knee.

Jeongguk pulls out, and you sob, clenching around nothing while his hands move down the expanse of your back, to your ass. He spreads you wide with both palms while bending lowly then licks from your clit all the way to your asshole, and you gasp then whimper, sinking deeper forward while arching your back to present yourself as best as you can.

The sloppy, hungry way he laps over your cunt is intoxicating, and when he curves up to your ass to dig his tongue into your tight rim, you grip roughly at the satin sheet, babbling nonsense at the sensation. Two fingers slide into your pussy, and Jeongguk slurps at your ass while his fingers stroke your erogenous zone, humming and groaning loudly.

"Oh my god," you whimper as Jeongguk's ministrations intensify. There is no way you are going to last long like this, and you do your best to relax despite how taut you feel pulled from every delicious movement. You knew Jeongguk would be good, but this is practically soul-crushing with the way your pleasure builds and builds.

Jeongguk's fingers squelch inside you, and you feel the spray of your arousal hit your thighs while his tongue slurps and prods, breaching your hole and making a sloppy fucking mess.

"Please, Jeongguk," you whimper like a prayer into the sheet, which is sticky-warm with drool. "Please don't stop. Please, please, please."

Jeongguk groans into you, plunging his tongue and fingers in deep, pulling you apart at the threads. Orgasm hits like a freight train—fast and sudden and unforgiving, a crash without casualties. You scream and claw at the blanket as your release squirts from you, coating your thighs, sloppy and loud.

You quake and sob uncontrollably, lips dragging against satin as Jeongguk pulls his fingers from you and sinks low enough to lick over your cunt in firm, broad strokes. He hums as he devours you, squeezing at the backs of your thighs and filling you to the brim with oversensitivity.

"Two down, one to go," Jeongguk gasps as he sits back and releases you from his hold.

He pushes against your hip, sending you crashing into the mattress, and you mutter equal parts indignant and incoherent as he begins to turn you onto your back in a haphazard twist of heavy limbs. You feel exhausted, but you do your best, digging your head into the bed while settling onto your back.

Jeongguk towers over you tall and pretty like a demon of pleasure, glistening and muscular and so fucking handsome. You attempt to smile, panting around each breath, and Jeongguk crawls between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder while spreading the other wide.

"You look fucking wrecked, doll," he teases as he leans forward and rubs beneath your eyes, undoubtedly to clean up a mess of mascara that has smeared. You pout, and he chuckles, adding, "Still gorgeous though. Perfect, even. I would have been gunning for this pussy long ago if I had known how much fun you are."

"Shut the fuck up," you mutter breathlessly, making Jeongguk chuckle.

"Never made someone squirt before," he continues, lining his cock up with your aching entrance. "You've done wonders to inflate my ego, doll."

"Great," you mutter, attempting to roll your eyes indignantly, instead rolling them involuntarily as he slides in deep, filling you in one swift thrust.

You moan as your body responds, pelvis lifting and arousal crashing. Jeongguk begins to roll his hips in a dizzying, tantalizing motion, and you do your best to relax despite the turmoil that already builds, threatening to tear you asunder. You are dangerously close to overstimulation, but you do not want to call your safe word. Jeongguk still has not cum, and you desperately want him to.

"She's a goner," Namjoon chuckles, and you hate how well he can read you. "This will be her last orgasm before she becomes too overwhelmed, Gguk, so make sure you cum."

Jeongguk feigns a pout, reaching down to press two fingers between your lips, smiling softly when you do your best to suck around them. His hips are steady and much slower, dragging in a way that lets you feel every perfect inch of him along your swollen walls.

"I won't be able to last much longer," Jeongguk assures, voice dipped low and sweet. "Taehyung bragged about my stamina, but you got me so fucking worked up. You can call your safe word if you need to, though. Yoongi told me it's sakura."

You suck on Jeongguk's fingers and allow your eyes to close momentarily, drifting into a state of full-body bliss. Despite how heavy your limbs feel, you are floaty and weightless. Euphoric.

"How do you stay so fucking tight?" Jeongguk groans as his hips pick up a quicker pace, skin slapping against skin. "How are you so fucking wet?"

You want to complain and tell Jeongguk to shut up, but the thought of speaking feels like too much, so you continue to suck mindlessly while Jeongguk uses you. He needs to finish before you lose your grasp on reality, and you are teetering dangerously close to that edge, lulled by the rhythmic thrust of his cock.

Jeongguk moans and sighs, becoming louder the harder he fucks you. His voice is sweet when lilted high and pitchy, and inviting when it is deep and dulcet. You could drown in him, really—in fact, you think you just might.

Time and space slip—float away like vapor in the air. You lay pliant and malleable as Jeongguk bends forward and leans back, changing angles, spearing you deep, rubbing places inside you that are carved wide just for him. When he finally pulls his fingers from your mouth to press them against your clit, you feel like you are dreaming.

"One last orgasm," he pleads gently, twirling over you in incorrigible movements. "I won't last much longer."

You pull your arms over your head and stretch your back, arching into Jeongguk's steady, determined thrusts. With the final ounce of energy you have left, you tense and relax around his length, working your muscles to a rhythm that will help you cum. Not that you need to help him; Jeongguk's fingers work over your bud, pulling you closer and closer with each swipe of skin against skin.

"Close," you whimper, feeling pleasure build.

Jeongguk must take your affirmation as incentive to fuck harder, deeper, faster. Your eyes roll back as his pace reaches heights you have come to expect, and you grip at the satin sheet above your head as you stare into oblivion.

And then, you drop. All at once, without warning, your arousal reaches its breaking point and bursts.

"Fuck," you squeak through a sob, mouth frozen in bliss, desperately forming broken syllables until you are finally able to create words. "Oh fuck, I'm cuming. Jeongguk!"

Jeongguk leans forward, dropping your leg from his shoulder to the mattress and placing both hands beside your head. His pace falters as he leans close and slots his lips against yours, moaning and whimpering into your open mouth while he licks and sucks at your lips and tongue.

"Feels so good," Jeongguk groans into your mouth. "I'm gonna cum, holy shit."

Jeongguk trembles, body lurching forward before he is up on his knees, pulling out and spraying his release onto your tummy, warm and viscous, quickly turning cold. You giggle, though you are unsure what is funny; you feel absolutely fucking broken.

One of the men begins to clap—you assume Taehyung—and then the others join in. You drag your arms down, over your face, cringing as you attempt to roll into a ball and disappear. "Please don't make this weird," you grumble as you turn to your side, only slightly bothered by the trickle of cum that runs along your tummy, down to the sheet.

Jeongguk hovers close, chuckling and pulling on your shoulder to get you to return to your back, and you resist, sleepy and no longer in the mood for any of these men; fucked past your limit and reeling from everything that has transpired.

"Let's get you into a bath," Jeongguk offers, and you loosen your limbs a little, willing to tolerate them a little more if it means a nice hot bath. "Hyung has a huge jacuzzi in his room, and I bet he would be more than happy to turn it on and get it nice and warm for us."

"It would be my pleasure," Taehyung responds, and you hear the sound of wood creaking as he stands and walks out of the room, footsteps quieting the further he gets.

Behind you, the bed dips, and you roll onto your back, eager to find out whether Yoongi and Namjoon are here to bother you—pleased to see that it is both of them.

"Darling," Yoongi says with a grin, dancing fingertips over your leg, which is bent at the knee. His touch tickles, and you shiver but do nothing to make him stop. "How do you feel?"

"Great," you mutter without thinking, voice wrecked and rasped from screaming.

"That was quite the performance," Namjoon adds, sitting beside your head and wiping his hand over your forehead. "I'm surprised you had no issue with letting all of us watch that."

You shrug, still not fully grasping the gravity of the situation. "We're all friends," you mutter, making Yoongi chuckle.

Taehyung returns, and you grin widely, appreciative of him for letting you fuck Jeongguk. And sure, you are aware that your thought process is a bit ridiculous, but you feel drunk from this scenario—far more intoxicated than the two glasses of red wine could have made you.

To your surprise, Taehyung holds his arms out and asks, "May I?"

Your assumption is that he either wants to hug you, or that he plans to carry you off to the jacuzzi, and both options sound nice, so you roll onto your side and then to your knees and crawl haphazardly into his open arms.

"Do you always turn into such a little baby after getting fucked?" Taehyung asks, to which Yoongi and Namjoon say, "Yes," in tandem.

"Sometimes," you respond dreamily as Taehyung scoops you up bridal style, holding you close to his chest while whisking you away.

"It's cute," he responds, dulcet voice soft and pleasant.

"You're cute," you grumble as you reach your arms to lazily hang around Taehyung's neck, burying your face into his chest. He wears a cologne that is earthy and a little spicy; unique.

Taehyung chuckles, chest rattling softly against your cheek, and you close your eyes and hum into the feeling.

"I'm glad you had fun," Taehyung says as his slippered feet softly patter while he carries you down the hallway. "If you come to have any regrets or complaints later, we can all sit down and talk. I want you to feel comfortable with us; relationships are built on trust."

"I won't," you say, certain that there is nothing to regret. "I love you guys."

"We'll see how you're feeling in a few days, but it makes me happy to know that you feel good about everything now."

The sounds of Taehyung's footfalls change, and you open your eyes to find that you are in a room with wainscotted walls of what you imagine to be mahogany, though you are not certain. Then he turns once more, and you are in a bathroom that is a lot like Yoongi's, but everything is white and gold instead of black.

"Jeongguk has my permission to see you without my presence required. So as long as the hyungs are okay with it, the two of you can do anything you want. Personally, I don't care who sees you. Fuck on the stage at Paradise if you'd like."

"Now, now," Yoongi says, causing you to peek over Taehyung's shoulder, smiling when you see him entering the room and unbuttoning his shirt. "Let's not encourage them to fuck in public. Jeongguk might actually take it as a challenge, and we don't need rumors flying that Boss Min is a cuckold."

"For once, the rumors would be true, hyung," Jeongguk says gleefully as he sidles up to Yoongi, still fully naked and covered in sweat, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

Jeongguk winks at you, flashing a wide grin, and you bury your face against Taehyung's shoulder, feeling shy.

"Are you getting in too, hyung?" Jeongguk asks as Taehyung begins to set you down, lowering your legs until your toes touch a soft rug.

With reluctance, you release Taehyung, and he keeps an arm around your waist, holding his other arm out for you to grab onto while you step one leg over the side of the large, white jacuzzi tub. The water is warm enough that you hiss and nearly retract your leg, but you quickly acclimate and lean in, finding the seat with your foot and standing on it.

"Of course I'm getting in," Yoongi says, and you can hear the sounds of clothing being removed behind you. "Can't let our pretty darling have all the fun."

Taehyung sighs and mutters, "No fucking in the hot tub, hyung," making Yoongi chuckle.

It takes a lot of concentration to make your limbs cooperate, but you manage to get both feet into the jacuzzi and lower yourself enough to step into the center and wade over to the far seat. The warmth is soothing, and you sink down until only your head remains above water, watching through squinted eyes as Yoongi and Namjoon get undressed to their briefs.

Jeongguk is turned around, rubbing his hands over Taehyung's chest, muttering lowly, and you enjoy a glance at his round, muscular ass before closing your eyes, smiling to yourself.

The water sloshes gently as bodies enter the tub, and you do not need to open your eyes to know that the arm wrapping over your shoulder from the right belongs to Yoongi; his musk greets you, followed by the familiar weight of so many hugs. You sit up slightly and lean into Yoongi while familiar hands lift your feet onto familiar thighs and begin to massage thumbs into your tired arches.

"I had fun spending time with everyone at Paradise, but the real paradise is here with you," you mutter somewhat sleepily, feeling Yoongi laugh against your cheek.

"Corny," Yoongi teases with a squeeze of his arms around you, and more bodies enter the tub, shifting the water around to your left.

You want to open your eyes and take in the bright, happy smiles of the men around you. You want to thank them all for the fun and show your gratitude for the affection they have given you. Taehyung is a wonderful host, Jeongguk is an excellent cook, and both Yoongi and Namjoon have shown a great deal of trust in you for encouraging you and Jeongguk to enjoy each other; Taehyung, as well.

Your heart feels so full of joy, and your sore, aching body is soothed so perfectly in the warm tub. But your eyelids are heavy, and the warmth pulls you in. You hug Yoongi while the men chatter about things you are unable to keep track of, doing your best not to drift to sleep.

At least you know that you are not at risk of drowning. With Yoongi at your side, it is impossible not to feel safe.

Just look at me, baby, day and night Don't make me bad, make me bad, I'm addicted to you 이미 길들여진 내 맘을 자극해 Don't make me bad, bad, addicted to you 시작해 버린 이상 내 게 아님 안 돼

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this chapter was more or less an oasis, but the rest of the desert is to come. i cannot stress enough how shit is really about to spiral in the final arc.

thank you for reading!!! 💜💜💜 reblogs and comments make the world go ‘round, and likes are nice too!!! i love you, stay hydrated!!!

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