title: i'm not sure?!
pairing: jungkook x jimin x taehyung x show producer!reader(f)
rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff, smut ; the canon idol au
summary: You're a producer working on a BTS travel show, called "Are You Sure?!" staring BTS members Jimin and Jungkook, with their fellow member guest star Taehyung. Everything is going well on set as filming for the night comes to an end, but when Jungkook and Jimin inform you that they caught you staring at their shirtless bodies, things quickly escalate between you guys by the poolside.
warnings: fluff, language, pwp, threesome, foursome, tit play, nipple play, licking, some body boob worship, blowjobs, hand jobs, eating out, multiple orgasms, ass slapping, light mlm moment, cumming, oral sex (m and f receieving), biting, praise, they all have a big dicks but they're different!, tatted jk and jimin is a warning in itself, jungkook is a bit more rough, jimin is soft :(((, taehyung dom tease!, insinuation that this is not their first rodeo lmfao, kisses
note: i am watching are you sure?! and i've thought many thoughts... i hope this one shot can be prescribed to you and heal whatever insane and nasty intrusive thoughts you guys have when watching. i am a simple woman, but these men only slightly older than me have me wrecked :"))) also s/o to @daegudrama for editing despite her busyness
total word count: 6.6k
drop date: August 29th, 2024 5pm pst
ao3 link
A day of filming wrapped as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery of Jeju Island.
The final shot had captured the last rays of sunlight glinting off the shimmering pool, where Jimin and Jungkook had been playfully splashing each other and playing mermaids, their laughter echoing through the tranquil evening air. The crew began to pack up the equipment, the usual post-shoot chatter filling the space as everyone prepared to unwind after another successful day.
You, the producer, had been watching the monitors closely, ensuring every moment was captured perfectly for "Are You Sure?"—the travel reality show hosted by BTS members Jimin and Jungkook. You’ve seen how their chemistry was undeniable since filming started out in the US in July. Now, once again, their camaraderie was infectious as they explored the beauty of Jeju, Korea with their fellow bandmate and guest star Taehyung by their side. Each outing in Jeju had been a hit: indoor rock climbing, go-karting, savoring omakase as well as other Jeju delicacies, and now, the pool at the luxurious house accommodation, where they seemed to find endless ways to entertain themselves, and the audiences who would eventually be watching this.
However, throughout this filming project, you found your eyes constantly lingering. The cool blue water rippled gently as Jimin and Jungkook clambered out, their naked torsos glistening in the fading light. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught yourself staring a little too long, mesmerized by the sight of them so effortlessly carefree and touchy. There was something about the way they moved, their playful energy, that made it hard to look away.
You shake off the thought.
Get it together, Y/N! You finally got a big gig producing a reality show for BTS in your mid-20s and you cannot be ruining it over your lust. You sigh. Maybe the lack of touch and a relationship is really getting to you, but that’s what happens when you value your career above other mundane things. You have to remind yourself that you have to continue staying professional to make it to the end of filming this.
What you don’t know is that your stares haven’t gone unnoticed, especially by the youngest of the trio, Jungkook.
As you begin to collect your things, your heart skips a beat when you hear a voice call out to you.
“Hey, PD-nim. Can you come join us by the pool for a bit before you go,” Jungkook says, his tone casual, but his smile inviting. “We wanted to talk about tomorrow’s shoot.”
Jimin nods in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans against the edge of the pool. “Yeah, we’ve got some ideas for tomorrow. Plus, it’s a nice night—no reason to rush off, right?”
You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing. The day has been long, and you can feel the exhaustion settling in. But the chance to spend a few more moments in their company, even if just to discuss the next day's itinerary, is too tempting to resist.
“Uh,” you turn to look around at the other staff, seemingly wondering if you should stay behind.
However, the ones who notice the interaction shrug, seemingly wanting to go back to their accommodation next door and eat dinner. Great.
“Sure, I can stick around for a bit.” trying to keep your voice steady as you walk over to where they’re waiting.
All the staff but you fully exit, closing the large doors that encase you in this space with these beautiful men. You sit on one of the comfortable seats by the pool, nervously hugging your knees as you watch Jimin and Jungkook swim toward you.
You notice Taehyung is still inside the living room, lying on the floor as he scrolls on his phone.
“Is he coming to join us?” You ask, wondering if there are any concerns for tomorrow, wouldn’t it be good to have him hear this information too?
“He’ll join us later~” Jimin answers, his tone sounding like he’s up to something, but his adorable smirk makes you not question it.
“Ah, alright.”
A brief silence follows as you look to Jimin and Jungkook to start the conversation, but instead, they exchange a glance and giggle.
You’re confused, but you recognize this as typical behavior from them.
“Is there something wrong?”
Jungkook’s giggling becomes softer before it cuts, “You know, we’ve noticed you staring at us too much throughout the trip in America and here.”
Holy shit! They noticed!
Panic sets in. Oh no no no. Is this it? They probably think you’re creepy. What if they think you’re some sort of sasaeng fan who somehow got involved in the production of this show to stalk them?
You’ll be labeled a pervert, potentially losing your job and getting blacklisted from the industry.
All because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of their beautiful faces… and bodies. It’s not your fault! While you were a fan of BTS years ago, you gave that up once you entered the entertainment industry a few years ago and started out as a production assistant. You’ve occasionally seen them at music and end of the year shows you worked on, but you gently admired them from afar, prioritizing your work over anything else.
“I–” You struggle to find the words to defend yourself. “I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, your words muffled. “I-I didn’t mean to! Y-You’re… He’s…”
The professional and stoic exterior you’ve maintained begins to crumble now that you’ve been caught red-handed.
But despite your panic, Jimin and Jungkook find your reaction completely endearing.
“She’s reacting exactly as cute as you said!” Jimin laughs, splashing water at Jungkook, who swims toward the pool ladder to get out.
“I didn’t realize she’d be this flustered, though!” Jungkook says, a hint of concern in his voice. He climbs out of the pool and walks toward you, dripping water onto the deck. “PD-nim, don’t worry about it.”
You peek through your fingers, still mortified, as Jungkook approaches, looking as attractive as ever with his body glistening from light reflecting on the remnants of water falling down his body. His expression is soft, reassuring, and it only makes your heart race faster.
Jimin lets out a soft chuckle. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re just teasing you,” His voice is light and teasing as he floats lazily in the pool “We’re not uncomfortable. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”
Jungkook nods, his expression gentle yet probing. “Yup! You’ve been nothing but professional this whole time. We just noticed that… maybe there’s more beneath the surface.”
Jimin gracefully lifts himself out of the pool and takes the seat on your other side. His presence is both comforting and disarming. “It’s like there’s something you’re holding back,” he adds, his tone hiding something deeper. “Something you’re denying yourself.”
You exhale slowly, trying to steady your nerves. Internally, you’re awestruck. It’s like they read you like a book. The intensity of their gazes still makes your heart race. Before you can respond, Jungkook’s eyes drop to your chest, his smile turning playful again.
“You know,” he says, “I noticed the black bikini top peeking out from under your tank top earlier.”
Your breath catches as his fingers touch the straps that tie behind your neck. You’d planned to swim later, after filming, wearing the bikini under your tank top and maxi skirt. Seeing how much fun they were having, you’d wanted to join in. But now, with their attention focused on you, you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
Jimin leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Why don’t you take off your clothes so we can see it better? We’ll help you~”
Take off your clothes?!
Your heart pounds in your chest, the suggestion hanging in the air between you. The teasing is taking a turn, and you’re not sure how to respond. Saying no might kill the mood, and who knows what they’d think—or say. But if you say yes… there’s no telling where this might lead.
You’re not sure.
But after a moment’s hesitation, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay…”
Jungkook gently takes hold of the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch is both soft and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine as he slowly lifts the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your breath catches in your throat as Jungkook pulls the tank top over your head, revealing the black bikini top beneath. Your cleavage and the roundness of your breasts are on full display, which makes them slightly more excited. The cool air hits your skin, making you acutely aware of how exposed you are.
But the look in their eyes isn’t one of judgment—it’s something far more intense, more primal.
Jimin watches with a satisfied smile, his gaze flickering between you and Jungkook. “You don’t need to hide, okay?” he adds, his voice soft yet commanding. “We’re all just having a little fun, right?”
Jungkook’s hands linger on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the skin just above the waistband of your maxi skirt. “This too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper as he hooks his fingers under the fabric.
You glance at Jimin, who nods encouragingly, his eyes dark with anticipation. There’s no turning back now, and a part of you doesn’t want to.
With a gentle tug, Jimin helps you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it pool around your feet. You stand up, stepping out of it. Now, your body is fully on display in the black bikini that suddenly feels far more revealing than it did before.
Jimin’s smile widens as his gaze travels over you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “Wow, you look even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill through you.
“She’s really pretty,” Jungkook’s hands trail up your sides, his touch light but possessive. “Let’s go in the pool for a swim,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours.
You’re momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of scenario, blinking in surprise. The intensity of the moment shifts, and both Jimin and Jungkook burst into soft giggles at your reaction. Before you can say anything, Jungkook takes your hands and, with a mischievous grin, pulls you up from the lounge chair.
In one swift motion, he lifts you into his arms, the strength in his hold both reassuring and thrilling. “Hold on tight,” he says, winking at you before he leaps into the pool, bringing you along with him.
“Huh!? Wahh!!” The water rushes around you, cool and refreshing as you both plunge beneath the surface.
When you resurface, laughing and splashing, Jimin stands at the edge, watching with amusement. “Wait for me!” he calls out before executing a perfect cannonball right between you and Jungkook, sending a wave of water crashing over both of you.
The three of you laugh as the playful atmosphere takes over. The tension from earlier dissolves into something lighthearted and fun. In the pool, you play a variety of games: splashing water at each other, racing from one end to the other, seeing who can hold their breath the longest, and even attempting to dunk each other under the water.
You become more familiar with them and vice versa.
Jimin and Jungkook take turns lifting you up and tossing you into the deeper end, your laughter echoing in the night. At one point, Jungkook even suggests a round of “chicken fight,” where Jimin hoists you onto his shoulders while Jungkook does the same with an imaginary opponent, both of you trying to push each other off into the water.
As the night progresses, the games become more relaxed, the three of you floating side by side, your bodies gently swaying with the ripples of the water.
Maybe this is all that’s going to happen. Maybe you were overthinking any other scenario. They were just teasing you because you were staring at them throughout the filming.
You guys are gonna call it a night, right?
Right–
“Y/N, can I touch your breasts.”
The sudden question jolts you out of your thoughts, and you quickly stand up in the pool, water cascading off your skin. Jungkook is closer now, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that wasn’t there before. His eyes are darker, a smoldering intensity taking over the playful spark you’re used to.
You swallow hard, caught completely off guard. “Is there… a reason?” you manage to ask, your voice coming out shakier than you’d like. You are on the bigger side than most girls here, so it’s not entirely surprising that your chest caught his eye.
Jungkook steps even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “I’m just curious,” he says softly, his voice low and almost hypnotic. “I want to see how they feel.”
Your heart races, every nerve in your body tingling as the situation escalates far beyond anything you’d imagined. You can’t believe this is happening, and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.
“Uh… sure,” you respond, barely above a whisper, your cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.
Jungkook’s hand moves slowly, deliberately, under the cup of your bikini top. His touch is tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment, but then his fingers press more firmly against your skin, exploring the softness with a deliberate curiosity. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his thumb brush against your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
The sensation is heightened by the sight of his tattooed right arm, the intricate patterns of his sleeve adding a dark contrast to his skin. The ink swirls and curves with every movement, the bold lines almost mesmerizing as his hand continues its exploration.
You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatens to escape, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch. The water feels warmer now, the atmosphere is charged with sexual tension. Luckily the cameras outside are now off, but you still can’t let the staff in the building next door hear anything going on.
Jimin, who had been floating nearby, quietly watching, now moves closer as well, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Jungkook,” he says softly, his voice a gentle reminder that he’s there too, “Don’t hog all the fun.”
Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hand still lingering on your skin as he glances at Jimin with a playful smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Jimin leans closer, his gaze intent and voice soft. “I’m going to touch you too, is that okay?”
You nod, anticipation and nervousness swirling within you.
Jimin’s hand moves under the bikini cup to grasp your left breast, his touch gentle yet confident as he begins to explore. His fingers graze and play with your nipple, causing a shiver to run through your body. His thumb and forefingers move in careful back and forth motions. Tenderly tweaking them, carefully observing the way your face reacts to his every touch. He appears as if he is under a trance, and looks at you with such a need in his eyes.
The sensation is heightened by Jungkook, who leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.
“I’m gonna remove your top so I can suck on them a bit,” He says shyly, pausing for a moment to untie your bikini straps from the back of your neck and remove your bikini top, before lowering his head and softly pressing his lips to your nipple, his tongue darting out to tease.
His hands push your breasts together as his tongue caresses the inner curves of your tits, swirling his tongue across them. Your hands are on his shoulders as he continues, licking every inch of your chest, nuzzling his face between them and leaving kisses along the path. His tongue flicks your right nipple and your breathing hitches in your throat. Despite the water in the way, you can feel yourself becoming wet from below.
Jimin watches, clearly intrigued, and soon follows suit, his mouth finding the other breast. He rubs his mouth along it, giving it a couple of kisses then wrapping his lips around it. Suctioning and taking in the tit with such hungry delight.
You feel like you have whiplash, as you cry out from the warmth of their mouths on your skin, your back arches off of the wall of the pool. You want to touch them, reach for them, feel the silkiness of his hair in your grasp.
But Jimin doesn’t let up, taking his time licking slowly around your areola until your nipple perks up, hard and stiff. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and with the sudden cold from the night air, it feels all too much.
Jungkook looks up at you through his wet hair, through black lashes as he widens his mouth over your breast, his teeth bared, scraping the fat of your breast without ever breaking the skin. You cry out in a cluster of pleasure, maybe pain, as your senses are confused about all of the sensations at once.
Despite the feelings of them against you, their actions are synchronized and perfectly in tune with each other.
The pool’s gentle ripples and breeze seem to fade into the background as the focus narrows to the intimate touch of the two men. Their movements are tender and explorative, a blend of curiosity and desire that leaves you breathless and overwhelmed.
Your mind is fighting for dear life to stay sane and not lose to your animalistic urges,
“Let’s get out of the pool,” Jungkook commands, his voice firm yet enticing. “I want you to sit back on that daybed couch, baby.”
The shift in how he’s addressing you in the past 45 minutes is striking—both intimate and commanding. You nod, your body responding almost instinctively to his command as you all exit the pool. The three of you walk over to the poolside daybed, water dripping off your bodies, cooling in the night.
You sink into the plush cushions, the soft fabric cool against your heated skin. The daybed is large, designed for lounging, but right now, it feels like the center of something much more intense. Jungkook and Jimin kneel on either side of you, their knees pressing into the mattress as they lean over you, their wet bodies glistening under the soft pool lights.
You look at both of them, a daring thought forming in your mind. “I want to… lick at your chests too,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of eagerness, shyness and uncertainty.
The thought of exploring the contrasting textures of their skin, the difference in their nipples under your tongue, is almost overwhelming. You wonder how each will react, the mere anticipation making your breath catch.
Jimin’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “Go ahead,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of encouragement and desire. “We’re here for you.”
Jungkook watches intently, his gaze dark with expectation. “We’re all yours,” he says softly, his tone dripping with promise.
You reach out tentatively, your fingers brushing against their chests to feel the firmness of their muscles under your touch. The warmth of their skin sends a shiver down your spine as you explore the contours of their bodies. Your hands glide over Jungkook's chest first, pausing to tease his nipples with your fingertips gently. His breath hitches, a low hum of approval escaping his lips as he watches you with darkened eyes.
Encouraged by his reaction, you lean in closer, your mouth hovering just above his skin. You start with a soft kiss on his chest before taking one of his small chocolate nipples into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it in a slow, deliberate motion. Jungkook’s hand instinctively reaches up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he lets out a quiet groan of pleasure. His chest rises and falls more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to tease him, alternating between gentle licks and firmer sucks.
The sound of his pleasure fuels your desire, making you want to elicit even more reactions from him. But as you pull back slightly, your gaze shifts to Jimin, who has been watching with equal intensity. His eyes are filled with anticipation, his lips slightly parted as if he’s already imagining what it will feel like when it’s his turn.
You move towards Jimin, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest as you did with Jungkook. His skin feels different—softer, yet still firm beneath your touch. Just below his right breast, he has a delicate script tattoo, the word "Nevermind" inked in elegant, flowing letters. You've always found it sexy, this handwritten tattoo adds a personal touch to his perfectly sculpted body.
His nipples are also differently shaped, bigger, and a bit lighter in color. You can feel the slight tremble in his body as you gently roll his nipple between your fingers before leaning in to taste him. Your mouth closes over his nipple, your tongue flicking against it in a teasing rhythm that draws a sharp inhale from him. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly as you continue to explore him with your mouth.
Jimin’s reactions are more subtle, yet no less intense. His soft moans mix with Jungkook’s heavier breathing, creating a symphony of sounds that only heighten your own arousal. The way their bodies respond to your touch, the contrast in their reactions, drives you to explore further, to discover just how much pleasure you can bring them.
You pull back slightly, glancing toward the large doors that separate the pool area from the rest of the accommodation. A flicker of concern crosses your mind, and you bite your lip before whispering, “You two need to stay quiet. We don’t want anyone overhearing us.”
Any slight mistake and you will lose your job, remember?
Jimin and Jungkook exchange a glance, their playful expressions tinged with a shared understanding. They nod, their eyes never leaving yours as they silently agree to your request. But just as you start to relax, your actions come to a stop when you feel them guiding your hands downwards, placing them on their lower bodies.
Your breath catches as your fingers wrap around their growing hardness, the heat and firmness of their cocks hidden under their swim trunks pressing against your palms. Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear. “I’ve wanted to feel you so bad for months now,” he confesses, his voice low and thick with desire.
Jungkook, not to be outdone, adds in a hushed tone, his eyes glinting with a dark sparkle, “Me too. You don’t know how much you’ve been driving us crazy.”
Their words send a thrill through you, intensifying the moment. You didn’t realize you were having this effect on them. You look at them both, their shared longing evident in their eyes. Slowly, you pull their members out from their swim trunks, your heart racing as you position yourself between them, sinking to your knees on the cushioned daybed.
Oh fuck…
The size difference even extends to their dicks.
Jungkook’s is much longer, with veins prominent on its sides. Jimin’s is shorter, but the girth is insane. You can’t help but imagine how they’d feel inside your pussy.
No, you can’t get ahead of yourself Y/N. Not yet at least…
With a mixture of boldness and anticipation, you lean down, your lips parting as you begin to lick at their members, starting with soft, tentative strokes of your tongue. The sensation of their heated skin against your tongue is intoxicating, their quiet groans spurring you on. You alternate between them, your tongue tracing the veins along their lengths, savoring the contrast in texture and taste.
Jimin’s breath hitches as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his member, the salty taste mingling with the slickness of your saliva. His fingers suddenly tighten in your hair, but he remains obediently quiet, the tension in his body evident as he struggles to hold back his angelic voice.
You shift to Jungkook, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sucking. His quiet sounds of pleasure are like music to your ears, the low hums of approval vibrating. His hands rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding you as you take him deeper, feeling the way his body responds to every movement of your tongue.
At the same time, your hand reaches out to Jimin, wrapping around his throbbing length. You start stroking him with a steady rhythm, making sure to keep him engaged, the sensation of your fingers gliding over his slick skin keeping his arousal high. Jimin’s breath hitches, his eyes half-lidded with desire as he watches you.
The two of them try their best to stay quiet, but the occasional gasp, lust-filled phrases or whispered name of yours slips out, betraying their growing need.
“You’re so good at this PD nim…”
“Y/N, you’re so fucking fine…”
“Such a good girl, Y/N…”
“Fuck, right there…”
The thrill of their restraint only heightens your own arousal, driving you to explore them further, your lips and tongue working in tandem to bring them closer to the edge.
While working your mouth over Jungkook, you feel Jimin’s hand sliding up your body, his fingers brushing against your wet skin before cupping your breast. His thumb grazes over your nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. The dual feeling—Jimin’s touch on your breast and Jungkook’s heat filling your mouth—intensifies the moment, driving you to pleasure them both with renewed focus.
The tension in the atmosphere thickens, all your quiet breaths turning into ragged gasps. You can feel the subtle changes in their bodies, the way their muscles tighten, and the way their grips on you grow firmer. The anticipation builds, and you know they’re close, teetering on the edge of release.
Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice low and filled with need. “Y/N… can I come on your chest?” His eyes are dark with lust, the words almost a plea.
Jungkook isn’t far behind, his voice breathless and shaky as he adds, “And I–I want to come in your mouth. Is that okay?”
The heat in their words sends a shiver down your spine. You pause, looking up at them, their faces flushed with desire.
“Y-Yes that’s fine with me,” You nod, your consent clear in your eyes and the slight smile that tugs at your lips.
With their requests granted, you resume your ministrations with renewed intensity. Your hands work in tandem, stroking their members with a firm, steady rhythm while your tongue flicks and teases them both. The taste of them lingers on your tongue, salty and intoxicating, driving you to push them further, to bring them to the edge of ecstasy.
Their breaths quicken, and you can tell they’re both struggling to hold back, to savor the moment as long as possible. But the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon their restraint begins to falter.
Jungkook’s voice is the first to crack, a desperate whisper as he warns you, “I’m close… so close…”
Jimin removes his hand from your hair. Instead, Jungkook’s hand, adorned with intricate tattoos and the bold "ARMY" inked across his knuckles, slides from your shoulder to your hair this time. The grip is firm and possessive, his fingers weaving into your strands with a fierce, almost primal hold. The veins beneath his tattooed skin pulsate as he uses his arm to guide you closer, pushing himself deeper into you with each powerful thrust. His tattooed bicep flexes with every movement, demonstrating his strength and control, while the rhythmic thrusts become more urgent.
Jimin's breath hitches as soft, erotic moans escape his lips, each sound laced with urgency to let go. His voice quivers, with a strained yet sensual whisper, “Me too… I’m going to come…” The words tumble out in a series of ragged breaths
With one last, deliberate stroke of your hand and a final suck, you push them both over the edge.
“F-Fuck!” Jimin lets out a guttural groan as he releases, his hot seed spilling onto your breasts, painting your skin with his pleasure. The warmth of it spreads across your breasts, the sensation almost surreal as you continue to stroke him, milking out every last drop.
At the same time, Jungkook’s hips buck slightly as he comes, the hot, salty taste of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow him down eagerly, your tongue swirling around him to milk him of every last bit. The taste of him lingers, warm and slightly bitter, but satisfying in a way that leaves you wanting more.
The sounds they make—those broken moans, the gasps of pleasure—echo in your ears, a symphony of gratification. Their bodies tremble with the aftershocks of their orgasms, their hands gentle but insistent as they guide you through the final moments of their release.
When they’ve finally come down from the high, their breathing ragged but steadying, they look down at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. The sight of you, your chest slick with Jimin’s release and your lips still wet from Jungkook seems to stir something deeper in them—a shared sense of intimacy that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.
Your fingers move instinctively, collecting Jimin’s release and bringing it to your lips, savoring the taste as you clean yourself, erasing the evidence of what just transpired. The sensation is both surreal and thrilling, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the air.
Jungkook's voice breaks through the haze, his tone a mix of innocence and desire. “PD-nim, can we do more with you?” His eyes sparkle with the same enthusiasm you’ve seen during filming, making it nearly impossible to deny him.
“H-Huh!? Oh…” you stammer, caught off guard. That look in his eyes—it’s almost impossible to resist. But a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you should be heading back before the other staff starts wondering where you are.
“C’mon, we’ll be quick!” Jimin adds, his voice smooth and coaxing, making it even harder to stick to your resolve. “We can eat you out, or we can penetr—”
Before he can finish, another voice cuts through the tension, startling you. “Oh… so that’s what you guys were doing?”
You turn your head sharply to see Taehyung standing there, now wearing swim trunks, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart races, the sudden realization hitting you like a wave.
“Oh my God, I forgot about Taehyung…” you gasp, instinctively trying to cover yourself, though it’s far too late for modesty.
“Hey, I thought you were going to head to bed?” Jimin narrows his eyes at the slightly younger man. He must’ve been watching you all this entire time, he thinks.
He chuckles, an amused glint in his eyes as he takes in the scene. “I thought you guys were still playing in the pool or something… but I’m not surprised things ended up this way. You two are always up to shit like this.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, clearly unimpressed yet intrigued.
“Huh?” you manage to squeak out, your mind reeling. Always up to shit like this? What’s that supposed to mean–
Taehyung’s smirk deepens, and he steps closer. “Anyways, I’m bored. Let me join in too,” he says casually with a boxy smile, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I won’t disappoint heh~”
He winks. HE WINKS!
The three members of the BTS maknae line look at you deviously, waiting to pounce on you at your command.
“I don’t think we should be–”
“Are you sure?” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison.
“I… “ The title of the show is going to come back to haunt you.
“I’m not sure…?” You can’t find yourself to say no, having already gone to the deep end.
You will be closer to getting fired if you get caught at this rate, but to hell with it, “Okay, fine!”
And immediately, they’re all over your body, reigniting the hidden flame in your heart that reminds you how much you loved them as a fan years before. You won’t survive this.
“Come over here,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice deep and commanding as he settles against the pillows of the daybed. He props himself up, making sure he’s comfortable, then motions for you to crawl in front of him.
Your heart races as you move into position, with Jungkook and Jimin on each side of you, their eyes dark with lust. The daybed is deep enough that you’re perfectly nestled between them.
As you get closer to Taehyung, you feel his hands sliding up your thighs, tugging lightly at the waistband of your bikini bottoms. You gasp softly, a thrill running through you as he pulls them down slowly, exposing your wetness. The sensation sends a shiver through you, heightening your anticipation and eagerness to get this over with. You lift your hips slightly to help him slide them off completely, leaving you fully exposed.
Taehyung’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.
He props himself up with the pillows behind his head, his hands settling on your hips as he guides you closer. “Sit on my face,” he tells you, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Your breath catches at the bold command, but the heat in his eyes, the way his hands grip your hips, sends a rush of excitement through you. You move to straddle him, your heart pounding as you position yourself over his face. Jungkook and Jimin remain close, their hands brushing over your body, adding to the growing heat between you all.
As you lower yourself onto his waiting mouth, the first touch of his tongue against your most sensitive spot sends a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.
“A-Ah~ T-Taehyung…” You gasp, your fingers gripping the daybed as Taehyung’s tongue begins to work its magic, teasing and tasting you with skillful precision.
Taehyung’s tongue explores you, from your clit to your entrance. His mouth working in a rhythm that leaves you breathless, and your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
Jimin and Jungkook are on either side of you, their hands moving to your breasts, where they each take a breast in their grasp. Their mouths soon follow, lips closing over your nipples as they begin to suck and tease you with their tongues once more. The dual sensation of Taehyung’s mouth on you and the boys’ attention on your breasts sends your mind reeling, pleasure coursing through you to unleash an orgasm. But you need to be patient and let it continue consuming you.
Jungkook’s hand slides down, tugging off Taehyung’s trunks with a practiced ease before wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s impressive length. The sight makes your eyes widen, but you aren’t entirely surprised by their actions—after all, you’ve seen how touchy BTS are with one another. Even filming earlier in the day and even back in the States. But this? Seeing them work together to push you to the brink of pleasure only makes you even hornier.
And Taehyung’s dick… it’s massive, much bigger than the other two. The way his tan skin contrasts with the thick, veined shaft is mesmerizing, almost too much to take in. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside you, making you ache with the anticipation of trying it next time.
Jimin, not to be outdone, reaches over to stroke Jungkook, his touch slow and deliberate, making sure to keep him just as aroused. His free hand slips down to touch himself, fingers wrapping around his own length as he matches the pace. The sensation of their hands moving in tandem, coupled with the attention they’re lavishing on you, makes your body tremble with need.
You ride Taehyung’s face, grinding down against his mouth as his tongue works magic on you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can. Your hands clutch the edges of the daybed for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you lose yourself in the sensations they’re giving you. Since you’re facing outwards, Taehyung’s hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer, deepening the connection between his mouth and your most sensitive spot. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he devours you with renewed intensity. He gives it a slap, which makes you cringe before you go back to indulging in the pleasure.
The feeling of the two men’s mouths on your breasts, Taehyung’s tongue inside you, and the sight of their hands pleasuring each other is almost too much to bear. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body quivering with the need to release.
Jimin and Jungkook suck harder on your nipples, their teeth grazing them just enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Taehyung’s tongue flicks and swirls with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
And then, finally, it all becomes too much. The pleasure explodes within you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body tenses, your thighs clenching around Taehyung’s head as you ride out the waves of ecstasy, the sensation amplified by the boys’ continued ministrations.
As the last tremors of your orgasm fade, you collapse forward slightly, your body spent and trembling. Taehyung gently guides you off him, his lips slick with your arousal, and you fall onto the daybed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook quickly follow, their own bodies shuddering as they reach their peaks, their releases mingling, landing onto each others bodies or the fabric beneath them.
Now the three of you lay there, breathless and spent, with limbs piled on top of each other. The air is thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, however a yearning for more still remains. The outdoor area is quiet, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, as you all come down from the high of your shared pleasure.
Jungkook leans in close, his voice low and filled with unfulfilled desire. “I’m so eager to fuck you, but I’ll wait until tomorrow after the itinerary is done,” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering with lust as he looks down at you.
Jimin, still tenderly stroking your skin, adds with a soft smile, “We don’t want you getting into trouble, PD-nim. We’ll be patient.”
You manage a weak smile, your mind swirling with the aftershocks of what just happened. “How have the staff not conveniently come in to check on us?” you wonder aloud, your voice shaky with exhaustion and disbelief.
The three of them exchange a glance, a shared understanding passing between them.
Don’t say that the staff are aware that they’re doing this…!? Taehyung’s words from earlier were already… odd, but you decide not to think too hard on it right now. You need to head back anyway, so let’s keep this drama-free, you think to yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time you hear about idols doing these things.
They begin to clean you up, wiping away the evidence of your intense encounter. They’re gentle, their touches soothing as they take care of you, ensuring that you’re comfortable before helping you to your feet to get dressed.
They walk you to the door, each of them pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before they see you out, their eyes filled with satisfaction. You step out, your mind reeling from the events that just transpired.
“Oh my god…” you say to yourself in a whisper.
As you walk away from the daybed, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation—tangled up with the three members of BTS in a way you never could have imagined. The memory of their hands, their mouths, their words lingers with you, a heady reminder of the connection you’ve just shared. And though you know the risks, the dangers of what you’ve done, you can’t bring yourself to regret a single moment.
With a deep breath, you start heading back to your accommodation, telling yourself you still have more days of this show’s filming to go. And more chance encounters with them as well.
-
-
-
The End????
A/N: HAPPY SURPRISE ONE SHOT DROP! OKAY. ALSO I HAD PLANNED TO BLUE BALL YOU GUYS AND NOT GIVE YOU A TAE SCENE BUT RAE SAID I SHOULD WRITE IT SO I DID! I've seen all y'all thirsting over are you sure?! and honestly, the maknae line really FED US SO WELL WITH THIS SHOW. also never in my life did i think there would be no censoring of their bodies, but thank you god for allowing us to indulge in their beauty and cute antics lmao. if you somehow survived this and made it to the end, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think or like bc i was going THROUGH IT writing this 🥴 if it wasn’t good, i am so sorry for wasting your time. 😭
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Marble floors that reflected your face back at you like a stranger. Gold-framed portraits lining the hallway—men in suits, men with dead eyes, men with power carved into their posture. Chandeliers dripping with crystals that glittered like they were mocking the idea of warmth.
Even the air smelled expensive.
Polished wood, luxury perfume, and something faintly metallic… like the ghost of violence soaked into the walls.
Your suitcase felt heavier than it should’ve. Not because it was full, but because it was all you had left.
Your mother stood beside you, dressed in cream like she was trying to look pure enough to be forgiven. Her hand trembled when she touched your shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, too softly.
It wasn’t okay.
Nothing about this was okay.
A month ago, you were still standing over your father’s courtroom seat, watching him get dragged away like a criminal animal. His face was bruised. His eyes were empty. You didn’t even know if he looked at you because he felt guilty or because he didn’t care anymore.
He’d betrayed the wrong man.
Benjamin Rossi.
A name spoken in whispers.
A mafia boss who didn’t just kill people—he erased them.
Your father had stolen from him. Taken money, weapons, information. And then tried to disappear.
Now he was behind bars.
And you and your mother were left as the price.
Protection, they called it.
A marriage contract dressed up as romance.
Your mother had met Jeon Kangtae at a charity event. A man too handsome, too calm, too polished to be real. He offered her safety. Offered her a way out.
But safety didn’t feel like this.
This felt like being sold.
The front doors shut behind you with a heavy, final thud.
The sound echoed through the mansion like a lock clicking into place.
Your chest tightened.
And then…
Footsteps.
Not the soft kind.
Not the kind belonging to maids or servants.
These footsteps were slow. Deliberate.
Like whoever was approaching didn’t rush for anyone.
You looked up.
A grand staircase curved above you like a throne’s path.
And standing there—
Seven men.
Seven shadows shaped into something dangerously human.
They were lined at the top of the stairs, not welcoming you.
Judging you.
The first one you noticed was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black like it was his natural skin. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp enough to slice.
Kim Namjoon.
The eldest.
He looked like the type of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to ruin someone’s life.
Beside him stood another—handsome in a way that felt unfair. His lips were curved into a smile, but it didn’t feel friendly.
Kim Seokjin.
He leaned against the railing like he belonged there, like this house was built for him.
Next was a man with pale skin and tired eyes, his posture lazy but his stare heavy.
Min Yoongi.
He looked at you like you were already exhausting him.
The fourth one smiled.
Bright. Beautiful. Almost charming.
But something about his grin made your stomach twist, like he enjoyed games that ended in screams.
Jung Hoseok.
The fifth was breathtaking.
There was no other word.
His face was delicate, almost angelic, but his eyes were not. His gaze traced you from head to toe like he was memorizing where you’d bruise first.
Park Jimin.
The sixth man tilted his head slightly, hair falling into his eyes. His expression was amused—like he’d been waiting for this moment.
Kim Taehyung.
And the last one…
He stood one step behind the others.
Not because he was shy.
Because he didn’t need to stand at the front to be dangerous.
He was younger. Dark-eyed. Sharp-jawed. His presence felt like a storm locked behind a calm face.
When his gaze landed on you, your skin prickled.
Like your body recognized a predator before your mind could.
Jeon Jungkook.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t blink.
He stared at you like you were something he’d already decided he hated.
And then he started walking down the stairs.
One step at a time.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Your mother shifted beside you nervously.
Jeon Kangtae stepped forward, placing a hand on her waist like she belonged to him already.
“My sons,” he said smoothly, voice rich with authority. “This is Elle. And her daughter.”
His hand tightened around your mother possessively.
“And this,” he continued, “is your new family.”
Your stomach churned at the word.
Family.
Namjoon didn’t react. Jin’s smile widened. Yoongi’s eyes narrowed like he was already annoyed. Hoseok looked amused. Jimin’s lips parted slightly, as if tasting the moment. Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with quiet curiosity.
And Jungkook…
He reached the bottom step.
Now he was only a few feet away.
Close enough for you to see the small scar near his eyebrow. Close enough to see the way his eyes darkened as he looked at you.
Not your face.
Not your eyes.
Your throat.
Your wrists.
The way you held your suitcase too tight.
And then he inhaled.
It was subtle.
Barely noticeable.
But you saw it.
His nostrils flared faintly.
His chest rose.
And his gaze sharpened like something inside him snapped awake.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Your heart slammed.
Your instinct screamed to step back, but pride rooted you to the floor.
Jungkook leaned forward slightly—not touching, not yet, but invading your space like it was his right.
And then his voice dropped.
Soft.
Dangerous.
“So,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours, “this is her.”
His tone made your skin crawl.
Like you weren’t a person.
Like you were a new toy brought into the house.
Jeon Kangtae smiled.
“Yes. She’ll be staying with us from now on.”
Jungkook’s gaze flickered briefly to your mother.
Then back to you.
“Lucky us,” Jin said lightly, descending the stairs with slow elegance. He walked past you like you were furniture, then turned and offered your mother a charming smile.
“Welcome, stepmother.”
Your mother stiffened, forcing a polite nod.
“Thank you… Jin.”
He tilted his head. “You can call me Seokjin. We’re family now, after all.”
His voice was sweet.
But his eyes weren’t.
Namjoon descended next, hands in his pockets, calm as a man attending a business meeting instead of welcoming strangers into his home.
“Rules,” he said simply, stopping near you.
One word.
Cold.
Your father—no, your stepfather—sighed as if he’d expected this.
“Namjoon.”
Namjoon’s gaze didn’t shift.
“In this house,” Namjoon continued, voice even, “we don’t like surprises.”
His eyes settled on you.
“So don’t become one.”
Your throat tightened.
You swallowed, forcing your voice to work. “I don’t want to be here.”
A beat of silence.
Then Yoongi laughed quietly.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
It was the kind that came from disbelief.
“You think we want you here?” Yoongi muttered, walking down the stairs like he couldn’t be bothered.
He stopped beside Jungkook, eyes half-lidded.
“You’re here because your mother wanted money and protection.”
Your mother flinched like she’d been slapped.
“Yoongi,” Jeon Kangtae warned, voice sharpening.
But Yoongi didn’t care.
He shrugged. “Just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
Hoseok descended next, still smiling, still warm.
But the closer he got, the more you realized his warmth was a mask.
He stopped in front of you and leaned slightly, peering at your face like he was inspecting a bruise.
“Pretty,” he said softly.
Your stomach dropped.
His eyes sparkled.
“But pretty things break easy.”
Your fingers tightened around your suitcase handle until your knuckles turned white.
Jimin came down next, graceful and quiet, like a cat.
He stopped on your other side, so close his shoulder nearly brushed yours.
You could smell his cologne—sweet and expensive.
He smiled.
And it made you uneasy because it wasn’t cruel.
It was almost… delighted.
“You look like you bite,” he said softly.
Then he leaned closer, voice lowering into something intimate.
“I hope you do.”
Heat crept up your neck, but it wasn’t embarrassment.
It was anger.
Taehyung followed, hands in his pockets, his expression thoughtful like he was trying to decide whether you were interesting enough to keep alive.
He stopped in front of you.
His gaze was slow.
Heavy.
He looked at your suitcase.
Then your shoes.
Then your face.
“You’re smaller than I expected,” he murmured.
You narrowed your eyes. “Excuse me?”
Taehyung’s smile deepened.
“Oh,” he said, voice smooth, “you do bite.”
He turned away like he’d already grown bored.
And then Jungkook spoke again.
“You’re going to stay on the third floor,” he said, voice casual.
Jeon Kangtae frowned. “That’s not—”
“It is,” Jungkook cut in.
Your stepfather’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like being challenged.
But Jungkook didn’t look at him.
He looked at you.
“The third floor is ours,” Jungkook continued. “And if she’s family now…”
His eyes flickered down your body again.
Slow.
Possessive.
“…then she stays where we can see her.”
Your lungs forgot how to breathe.
Your mother stepped forward quickly. “I’d prefer if she stayed closer to me—”
Jungkook’s gaze snapped to her.
It was the first time his expression changed.
His eyes darkened.
His voice stayed calm, but the threat underneath it was unmistakable.
“You don’t get to prefer anything.”
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
Jeon Kangtae’s hand tightened on your mother’s waist.
Then he chuckled, as if this was amusing.
“Jungkook,” he said lightly, “be polite.”
Jungkook’s smile was sharp.
“I am being polite.”
Then his gaze returned to you.
And you felt it.
That sickening certainty.
That he wasn’t just angry.
He was fixated.
Like something about you offended him.
Like something about you tempted him.
You hated the way his eyes lingered on your throat again.
Like he could smell you.
Like he could taste you.
Like you were something he wanted to ruin.
“Come,” Namjoon said abruptly.
A maid appeared as if summoned by fear itself.
“Take their bags,” Namjoon instructed.
You instinctively pulled your suitcase closer.
“No,” you said.
The maid froze.
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ll learn quickly,” he said, voice low, “that in this house, you don’t say no.”
Your pulse pounded.
But you lifted your chin anyway.
“I’m not your servant.”
Jin laughed again, soft and amused.
“Oh,” he said, “you’re going to be so fun.”
Jimin’s lips curved.
Yoongi muttered something under his breath.
Hoseok looked entertained.
Taehyung’s eyes glimmered like he’d just found a new favorite show.
And Jungkook—
Jungkook stepped closer.
So close you had to tilt your head slightly to look up at him.
He leaned down, his voice only for you now.
“You’re right,” he murmured.
You held his gaze, refusing to flinch.
He smiled.
“But you’re also wrong.”
His fingers brushed your suitcase handle.
Not gripping it.
Just touching it.
And that touch felt like a warning carved into your skin.
“You’re not our servant,” he whispered.
His eyes flicked to your lips.
Then back to your eyes.
“You’re our problem.”
He tugged the suitcase gently, forcing you to let go.
You resisted, but he was stronger.
And when the suitcase slipped from your grip, you felt it—
The first piece of control leaving you.
Jungkook handed it to the maid without looking away from you.
Then he straightened.
“Dinner is at eight,” Namjoon said, turning away.
“Don’t be late,” Yoongi added lazily.
“Wear something nice,” Jin said. “Or don’t. Either way, we’ll enjoy it.”
Your stomach turned.
Your mother grabbed your hand as the men started walking away, disappearing into the mansion like they owned the air itself.
Which they did.
Because they owned this house.
And now…
They owned you.
You were halfway up the stairs when Jungkook’s voice stopped you.
“Y/N.”
You froze.
No one had called you that in a long time.
Your mother used to say it when you were little. When you’d cry over scraped knees. When you’d hide from storms.
Hearing it now from his mouth felt wrong.
Dirty.
You turned slowly.
Jungkook was still standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching you.
His eyes were unreadable.
His voice softened.
But that only made it worse.
“Don’t forget,” he said, “you’re here because we let you be.”
Your nails dug into your palm.
“I didn’t ask for this,” you snapped.
Jungkook smiled.
“I know,” he said quietly.
Then he tilted his head, inhaling again like he couldn’t help it.
Like he was addicted already.
“And that’s what makes it so interesting.”
Your skin prickled.
Your mother pulled you upstairs, whispering frantic reassurance, but you barely heard her.
Because your mind was stuck on his eyes.
On his tone.
On the way he said your name like it belonged to him.
By the time you reached the third floor, the hallway stretched long and dim, lit by soft golden lamps.
It was quieter up here.
Too quiet.
The air felt different.
More private.
More dangerous.
The maid opened a door at the end of the hall.
“This is your room, miss,” she said quietly.
You stepped inside.
It was large.
Bigger than your old bedroom. Bigger than your entire old apartment.
A king-sized bed. Velvet curtains. A private bathroom. A balcony overlooking the estate grounds.
It should’ve felt like luxury.
Instead it felt like a gilded prison cell.
Because the door clicked shut behind you.
And then…
You heard another sound.
A door opening across the hall.
Slow footsteps.
Coming closer.
You turned toward the window, heart pounding.
Then you heard a knock.
Not polite.
Not hesitant.
A knock that sounded like someone already owned the room.
You didn’t answer.
The door opened anyway.
Jungkook stepped inside like he belonged there.
Like it was his room too.
His hands were in his pockets.
His expression calm.
But his eyes were darker now, like something had settled into him.
Something obsessive.
You took a step back instinctively.
“What are you doing?” you demanded.
Jungkook’s gaze flicked around your room.
Then back to you.
“I’m making sure you understand,” he said.
Your throat tightened. “Understand what?”
He walked closer.
Slow.
Unhurried.
The way predators stalk prey that can’t escape.
He stopped right in front of you.
You could smell him now.
Leather. Soap. Heat.
And something else—something feral underneath the surface.
He leaned down slightly.
Not touching you.
But close enough that his breath brushed your cheek.
“You’re not just in our house,” he murmured.
His eyes locked on yours.
“You’re in our territory.”
Your heart hammered so violently it hurt.
“And if you try to act like you belong…”
His gaze flickered down to your throat again.
Your pulse jumped.
His lips twitched, like he was amused by your fear.
“I’ll remind you,” he whispered.
“Every day.”
Your voice came out shakier than you wanted.
“Get out.”
Jungkook paused.
Then he smiled.
A slow, sharp curve of his mouth.
“Not yet,” he said softly.
And then his eyes darkened again.
“Not until I get bored of you.”
He turned toward the door.
But before leaving, he stopped.
Looked over his shoulder.
“And Y/N?”
Your stomach dropped.
“Yes?” you snapped, trying to sound brave.
Jungkook’s gaze raked over you one last time.
Then he spoke in a voice so quiet it felt like a secret meant only for your skin.
“You smell good.”
The words hit you like a slap.
You stood frozen as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
And only when the silence returned did you realize the truth.
This wasn’t going to be a normal life.
This wasn’t going to be a normal family.
This was a war.
And you had just walked into the enemy’s home.
Next>>
Pairing: BTS x Reader Female ( poly relationship )
Genre: Fluff | Romance | Slice of Life
Warnings: None
Summary: On a quiet break from touring, BTS and their American girlfriend ( you ) share a cozy day in their countryside home — full of soft kisses, playful teasing, and the warmth of being loved by seven hearts as one.
The late summer sun slanted golden through the open windows, casting soft rays across the hardwood floor of the countryside house you now called home — or more accurately, the home you shared with seven impossibly kind, chaotic, and loving men.
Your men.
BTS — or rather, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook — were scattered across the house in various states of cozy laziness. After months on the road, on stages across the world, this retreat had been long overdue. And for you — an American who had once only known them through screens and music — it was still surreal to live like this. Loved by them all. Completely. Equally. Fully.
You padded barefoot into the living room, still wrapped in one of Seokjin's oversized sweaters. The scent of green tea and citrus lingered in the air, courtesy of Yoongi’s obsession with oil diffusers lately. A soft melody played on the Bluetooth speaker, something instrumental that Taehyung had found the night before.
“Morning, angel,” Namjoon said from the couch without even looking up from his book, his deep voice coated in affection. He tilted his head back to smile at you — dimples and all. You leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead before settling into the nest of blankets beside him.
“Mmm, you smell like Jin-hyung,” Yoongi muttered from his perch in the reading chair across the room, teasing, but his eyes crinkled with warmth.
You smirked. “That’s because I stole his sweater.”
“And my heart,” Seokjin chimed in dramatically, entering the room with a tray of cut fruit and pastries. He offered you a slice of peach with a mock bow, which you accepted with an exaggerated curtsy. He winked, then stole a kiss to your cheek before settling on the floor with his back against the couch.
“Are we just gonna let her walk around looking this cute? This feels like emotional warfare,” Jimin said, appearing from the kitchen in a loose tank top, hair messy and damp from a shower. He flopped down onto the couch on your other side, tucking his head against your shoulder like a sleepy cat.
You kissed the top of his head, heart warm. “Then you better kiss me before I start deploying further tactics.”
“I volunteer as tribute,” Jungkook called from the hallway, emerging with a grin and his camera slung over his shoulder. He’d been capturing candid shots all morning — the quiet life, soft smiles, bare faces and messy hair. “You’re glowing today, noona. I want to get a picture of you with the others.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, lifting your legs to let him sit near your feet. “You just want a reason to make me blush.”
“It’s working,” he grinned.
Taehyung sauntered in next, sipping something cold and minty from a glass. “Did I hear something about blushing and kissing and unfair sweater theft?” he asked, feigning offense.
“I can share,” you offered, starting to take off the sweater, but he shook his head.
“No, keep it. You look soft. Like a cloud I wanna fall asleep on.” He leaned down and kissed your temple before dragging over a pouf to sit at your feet.
Hobi was last to arrive, bounding in with a small speaker and a bag of peach gummies. “Movie day?” he suggested with bright eyes, practically glowing with happiness.
“Perfect idea,” Jimin murmured.
Namjoon bookmarked his page and stretched. “Let’s watch something stupid and feel everything anyway.”
“You mean like The Notebook?” Yoongi teased, making everyone groan in unison.
You giggled and curled in tighter to your little pile, a human tangle of long limbs and love. Seokjin passed you a cherry Danish. Jungkook adjusted your blanket. Hobi tucked your hair behind your ear. Each gesture was a thread, weaving you tighter into the beautiful tapestry of this life you’d built with them.
It was warm. It was chaotic. It was real.
They didn’t love you because you were some unattainable fantasy or perfect person. They loved you because you fit into their rhythm like the missing note in a song. Because your laughter soothed them. Because you gave as much as you received — in hugs, in homemade pancakes, in midnight talks about stars and fears and silly dreams.
They loved you together, not in competition. Not in halves. And you loved each of them fully — for their flaws and kindnesses, for their quirks and gentleness. You learned how Yoongi liked his tea after 9 p.m. You knew how to ease Jungkook’s anxieties before a performance. You learned Taehyung’s favorite poems by heart and massaged Hobi’s shoulders when he had tension from dancing.
As the lights dimmed and a silly rom-com began to play, you looked around the room at your boys. Each one different. Each one extraordinary. All yours.
Jimin took your hand. “You okay?” he whispered.
You nodded. “I’m more than okay.”
They all leaned in at once, like they could hear your heart.
You were in the golden hour of your life — and it was drenched in purple.
BTS x Reader, Reader is Jungkook’s girlfriend, polyamory, group sex
Jungkook getting soft when he sees you so comfortable and relaxed around the rest of his family. It’s around this time though, that he realizes the looks and jealousy from the others, their shy tenderness, and gestures.
He realizes his group members behavior doesn’t have anything to do with just plain wanting a relationship- but has a lot to do with wanting you.
Back to You
@hollyhomburg
BTS x Reader, Reader is Yoongi’s girlfriend, bdsm themes, polyamory
“don’t be rude Hyung, there are so many people watching and you know how much we hate when people see what’s ours,” and they’re right- there are alot of people watching the two of you curled to the side, both of you wrecked in the booth.
Taehyung closes the curtains to the booth and slowly guides you to give Yoongi a blowjob, Taehyung guiding your head up and down his length with a hand in your hair. his other hand around your throat feeling how you clench and swallow around Yoongi “that’s a good girl, take baby boy’s cock all the way, like i know you can that’s a good babygirl ”
You had decided to make a change, not realizing your men would notice. The consequences bring to light your own insecurities, with which the boys decide it’s time you realize how precious you are to them.
Ethereal
@purpleyoonn
BTS x Reader, mafia au, dragon BTS, human Reader, polyamory
After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.
A Bond Made of Love
@purpleyoonn
BTS x Reader, idol au, hybrid Reader, polyamory
Your last owner had almost beaten you to death, leaving you at the very shelter he had adopted you from. This time, two tall men walk in, immediately drawn to you as you rested in your small cage. You couldn’t help but become attached, just hoping you wouldn’t be abandoned once again by the idols you grow to love.
Boyfriend for Hire
@remedyx
BTS x Reader, contract dating to real dating, father issues
Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.
It wasn't supposed to happen this way. A quick in and out. Infiltrate and bring down a hybrid trafficking ring. Saving lives while we're at it. But things hardly ever go to plan. And being locked in with seven hybrids that meant more to me than victims forced into a life they didn't deserve was definitely not according to the plan.
Lessons
@trivia-yandere
Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon, Reader is Namjoon’s girlfriend, sensory deprivation
when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it.
consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.
For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!
I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!
red means unfinished
blue means finished
🗯️ curator's note
(sorted by alphabetical order)
A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga
Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.
Accidental Friends by Erakun06
Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. clears throat PLATONIC.
Or
One day, you meet a member of Bangtan, the next day, another, and another, and another, and one day, they become a group of people you often stumble across in your life. They become your acquaintances. Then your friends. Then your source of comfort, just like they are the source of comfort of millions of people in the world. What you didn't expect is that you become the same to them. It's inevitable. You are friends.
🗯️ a theme that I don't find much of, and this one was excecuted quite neatly I'd say
Ace For Hire by tokki-maknae
Who is Ace?
Besides being the deadliest hitman on the market in the underground, whose really under the hood?
The answers simple, well for you at least, because you are Ace. When you're not busy blurring yourself into the background noises of school, you were making a killing in the underground, both literally and figuratively.
For years now Ace has become an infamous name among the other gangs and holds the reputation of being lethal and untouchable. But that all changes after a slip up that causes you to attract the unwanted attention of one persistent seven member gang.
A gang that's been dying to know, who is Ace?
🗯️ badassss
At Your Service by @untaemedqueen
In which Yn is looking for an escort to accompany her to her nightmare ex and ex best friend's wedding, only to ended up falling in love with him.
Baby (you complete us) by @purpleyoonn
Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.
Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Back Home by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
Secretly, he was selfishly hoping that you didn’t age well. Dealing with a small crush was easy enough when he was young and knew next to nothing about girls, when you were just a cute albeit slightly weird girl he had a soft spot for. But he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if his feelings came back with a vengeance while you were living together. God, he would probably lock himself with Jungkook until you went away.
OR
The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that:
a) he still had a massive crush on you.
b) he lived with six other guys.
🗯️ crack fic! my fave category and this one makes me giggle in both funny way and butterfly-in-my-stomach kinda way
Beauty of Love by @imnotlauriane
When you cross eyes with your soulmate, you get flashes of memories that have yet to happen. You can't see the same memory as the other and it can be either good or bad. It's not always terrible, but a thing is for sure. No matter what you do, it will happen.
But are things always what they seem to be?
Between The Bloodshed series by @agustdakasuga
🗯️ this series... I just love. plot is super neat, relationship doesn't feel forced, etc etc
❶ Between The Bloodshed
Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that you would have to leave your life behind and build a new one.
❷ Everything Between Us
They left you hanging, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you look past the betrayal to take them back into your life and back into your heart?
Beyond The Stage by Alysheart
Alexis was going through the days simply. She was a college student in Florida, working towards her degree. When she scored tickets to the BTS concert in Korea, she didn't hesitate. She never expected to be soulmates with the seven idols.
Bound by Blood by PurpleQueenie
In a world where vampires and humans have to co-exist, where the line between tolerance and animosity blurs, how can you ever expect to get your happily ever after when your soulmates hate your very existence?
🗯️ love all the details, the slow burn, gosh just so good
Boyfriend For Hire by @remedyx
Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.
Breakthrough by Alphathyx
"My dreams haunt me like past memories that never existed"
The Memory Dive, an invention that allows the user to dive into anyone's memories just from the collection of their DNA. Made by Professor Kim Seokjin, he created this device for the worlds secret service to solve mysteries that the ordinary field agents are unable to.
With seven agents, ranging from ex military, to a university professor, college student and even a criminal, only these seven are able to use this machine to extract memories of others.
They are also the only people that know how to escape it.
Discover through their eyes of uncovering the darkest truths of the world, through the minds of victims.
🗯️ this one's super neat plot with complicated and technical world, just so good
Bright Colors and Loud Soulmates by Mostmouse
You resented soulmates, the whole damn concept. It just wasn't your thing, and you couldn't help but feel jealous of those who were born without soulmates, who could see the world as it was intended to be from birth.
When you run into your soulmate, you're determined to stay in your own sphere of the world. Focusing on you. But, because nothing is simple in your life, it turns out he's one of seven - better yet, your seven soulmates are the globally famous band BTS. Because why wouldn't they be?
OR you learn how to let your soulmates past your carefully crafted walls, and they’re more than happy to show you what a loving and supportive relationship should look like.
🗯️ a funny and cute one! (with extra h0rny characters lol)
BTS Office CEO AU by @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue
You work for seven CEOs who have called you into their office due to a complaint
Can't Wait To See You Again by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
The one where Jungkook develops a huge crush on a Youtuber he found after falling into the rabbit hole of his recommended videos. Unbeknownst to him, you were also recommended to his hyungs.
Unbeknownst to you, all across the world seven idols were slowly falling in love with you.
🗯️ I just love the concept of the boys being fanboys :3
Choco Bun by @nunchiimagines
When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?
Combined Beings by @numinousher
You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. the bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentioned you to the other 6.
🗯️ minus the bullying elements, this story is like a comforting sweet cloud
Comfort by http-lostforever
Hybrids have been introduced into society for a handful of years now, the fighting for their rights is still happening but doesn't look promising. But when one girl finds a hybrid in danger she jumps at the chance to help, yet what she didn't know was how upside down her life was about to become.
But a word of advice, not everything is as it seems.
Could We Be Together Someday? series by BTS_Mommy / @babyboy-bangtan
🗯️ mann Idk what to write lol. this is another one that I've re-read thousand times, bcs some of the boys started as fanboys then became clingy friends. also yn's so supportive I just lovee.
❶ By Chance
A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.
❷ The Moments in Between
As you become close friends with BTS, you begin to realize that the feelings you have for them are slowly turning into something you're not ready to deal with. Unbeknownst to you, the same is happening to them.
Crave by sweetinsanityy
The boys don't do well with being controlled, but for their group, they'll bite their tongue and put on a smile for management. Yet when you, a new little rookie, stumble upon them, they're like a pack of hungry wolves.
Or, the boys are all Doms and they want you to be their perfect little sub.
Cursed Fate by PurpleQueenie
The universe has designed soulmates- someone that completes you. But what happens when you don't have one but seven? And all you want to do is run in the opposite direction when you see them...
🗯️ queenie's stories are just so good, you should check them all out! this one also has such great details and writing.
Deep Down by sleepingbearandbunny
Jae, unlike everyone else, has nothing against the hybrid species. She likes being alone, where she is safe from ridicule and her controlling father. When a group of hybrids save her from some trouble, fate brings them together once more.
🗯️ a harsh and complecated world this one, so they went through a lot together and I love that!
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?
🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader
🗡️ word count: 19.7k
🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+
🗡️warnings: soft moments of domesticity; smut & kink (masturbation/video call sex; restraints; flogging; semi-voyeurism & exhibitionism; rough handling of genitals; rough & improper bdsm practice; gentle & correct bdsm practice); 6 of the 7 members of BTS topless, wearing leather harnesses (1 of them needed to keep his composure and be in charge); a kiss!!!
🗡️note: hello, my loves. 💜 i really thought, "you know what trope i haven't written yet???" and chose with my whole chest to write a masquerade-type event. 🥴 this chapter contains some tense conversations and a lot of feelings. please be patient with our mc, she is going thru it™.
🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin
🗡️ posted june. 2025 | read on ao3
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Waking up to the scent of Yoongi almost feels like a dream. You keep your eyes squeezed shut against the bright morning sun, worried that if you open them, the illusion will break and you will be lying in your bed in the hanok all alone. After all, the events of the night before feel so hazy that, for all you know, you passed out and imagined returning to a penthouse suite with the men you love.
A deep groan confirms what your heart knows to be true: the warmth to your right and the scent of musk and something fruity is not a trick of the mind. You stretch your legs, pointing your toes as a yawn forces your mouth wide. Lifting your arms to continue to stretch, you rotate toward the warmth, sound, and sun and squint your eyes open.
Yoongi, too, is in the thralls of waking up but struggling to accept his fate. He lies on his back with his eyes squeezed tight and a smile tugging at his lips. You spin and advance, draping your arm over his bare chest and burying your face against his neck. At this, he groans again.
"Morning, my love," he mutters, voice deep and raspy.
The words my love fill you with warmth, and you squeeze your arm around him tightly, searching for what to say in response but settling with leaving slow, firm kisses against his neck and throat. You feel the engagement ring on your finger and recall Yoongi's proposition. Although, in this moment, there is nothing that you want more in the world than to return home with him, you bite your tongue and keep the invasive thought locked up tight.
It takes some time to fully wake; the two of you spend a long time holding one another and stretching before settling and drifting, only to wake, stretch, and settle again. When Yoongi finally lets out a deep sigh and begins to sit up, you huff a sigh-groan in response and attempt to hold him down.
"Darling," he chuckles, "We must wake eventually."
"Eventually," you agree in a sleepy, whiny tone, "but not now."
Yoongi chuckles some more. "Unfortunately, I still have business matters to attend to. We have some real estate deals going through, and although I trust Namjoon and Seokjin whole-heartedly, I am still expected to be the face of the organization."
The organization. That's new. Something about the change from referring to the crew as his family feels…odd. Official, but in a way that makes you question whether there is more happening that you are unaware of.
"Real estate where?" You ask, attempting to placate your worries. You are genuinely curious, of course.
"Here and there," Yoongi says with a shrug. He is fully seated and lifting his arms to stretch them high while you continue to rest at an awkward bent angle with your arms around his middle and your face pressed against his stomach. "Some in downtown Seoul, some in the southern end of the peninsula. I have been planning for some time to expand my reach and build more hotels, and with Ryujin behaving more amicably, now is the best time to put these plans into motion."
You hum against his skin, your breath creating warm condensation that quickly turns to cool damp. Yoongi must laugh because his stomach bounces, although you hear no sound. You hold on tight while he begins to attempt to prise your arms off him. The mention of Ryujin does something terrible to your insides, and although you want to know more about his intentions, you keep it to yourself for the time being.
"Darling," he says, putting a fraction of his strength into forcing your arms open, fingertips attempting to unlock your hands behind his back. He is only somewhat successful, but you imagine that it is only a matter of moments before he strong-arms his way. "This is not goodbye, you know. You will come to Paradise soon. And you know that you are welcome to come home any time."
"Breakfast first?" you ask, tilting your face to flash a wide grin.
Yoongi smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, and he leans low to kiss you. Morning breath, however, causes you to bury your face against him once more. Yoongi laughs.
"Alright, darling. Shower, breakfast, and then I need to hit the road."
And with one last groan, you give in.
To your surprise, it is already after ten. The sun shines brightly in the spacious but empty suite. All the amenities you could possibly need are present, but it feels more like a hotel than a place Yoongi owns. Come to think of it, the space reminds you of Namjoon. The linens and rugs are all greens and tans, and the bathroom is white tile with brown wood and brass fixtures. The towels are white.
You stand in a wide shower with your eyes closed, tilting your face to the stream of hot water. Yoongi has scrubbed you down and works on himself, insisting that you relax and let him take care of everything. After you are properly rinsed and towel-dried, you brush your teeth and moisturize while Yoongi does the same. From time to time, you find yourself watching him in the mirror and marveling at how glorious it is to be sharing such a mundane moment.
"I love you," you say softly, watching as his fingers rub in small circles over his chin.
Yoongi smiles and glances at you in the mirror before turning his attention to you fully. He is beautiful in only a towel, nude from the waist up with his hair in dark, damp waves and his skin glowing. You wish you had the energy to strip the towels away from your bodies and sink to the floor, but the previous night took a lot out of you. Instead, you watch as he inches close, trailing fingertips over the wooden countertop while his other hand lifts to gently touch below your chin. You cannot hold back a smile as Yoongi leans close and presses his lips against yours. In tandem, you both groan softly, and your lips move in slow motions against one another, gentle and unhurried.
"I love you," Yoongi says against your lips, then places a soft kiss against the tip of your nose. "Where would you like to go for breakfast?"
Hungover and exhausted, it is hard to conceptualize food in a way that is helpful. The thought of everything is nauseating.
"I'm…struggling this morning," you admit sheepishly. "I'm not sure I can handle a full plate of food."
Yoongi hums and nods, kisses your lips softly, then your cheek and your temple. Your eyes flutter closed.
"Pastries, then?" he asks, kissing your forehead. "There is a cute French café nearby."
You nod and allow Yoongi to step away into the bedroom. You follow, and suddenly, you feel nervous about wearing last night's outfit to the café. You love the dress and the boots, but you are not sure whether it would fit the vibe of a late-morning coffee date. Yoongi, however, surprises you by wheeling racks of clothing out of the closet. Your clothing.
Row after row of dresses, shirts, and pants hang, with shelves on the bottom holding your footwear. On another rack hangs purses and handbags, and you notice a large jewelry box on a low wooden dresser that is open, containing all of your jewelry.
"Yoongi," you mutter, taking it all in.
"I know," he responds with a grin. "I am being overwhelming again. There is no need to take everything back to the hanok with you, but I could not stand the idea of you being without your possessions."
"Not overwhelming," you insist softly.
Your heart feels so full and warm, and you approach the jewelry box first, taking out the ring, bracelets, and earrings that Namjoon bought for your birthday, smiling at the sight of the dainty gold vines encrusted with diamonds. Yoongi approaches and assists with the bracelet and earrings. He appears pleased with your choice and touches you so delicately. Once you are satisfied, you move from the dresser to the clothing.
"What should we wear?" you ask, facing him with eyes full of tears.
There is a part of you that is ashamed of how glad you are to see these material things. But they are a symbol of the affection Yoongi and Namjoon have for you, and you do not take their generosity for granted.
"Well," Yoongi starts, glancing at the clothing, "being that this is not my city, I was thinking of blending in."
"Oh?" you ask, delighted at the thought of Yoongi in a sweater.
Yoongi enters the nearby closet, just to the right. It is sparse, a clear indication that he spends little time here. There are black suits and slacks, and several sweaters, most of which are black and dark blue. To your surprise, Yoongi approaches a short row of t-shirts and pulls out a white one.
"White?" you blurt, unable to hold back your surprise.
Yoongi scoffs, then removes the shirt from its hanger and begins to put it on. "I told you, I intend on blending in."
"Guess so," you mutter under your breath.
Your fingertips rub over the soft material of the towel wrapped around you. Attention turned to your clothing, you search for something casual, glad when you find a row of sweatshirts. You choose a burgundy crew neck sweater and black jeans. Then you begin to search for underwear.
Yoongi appears from the closet wearing the white tee with his towel around his hips, and you grin, not sure why the sight is so amusing but enjoying it all the same. He approaches the dresser and pulls out the top drawer, revealing undergarments for the both of you. Relieved, you find a soft pair of plain black underwear, a matching mesh bra, and short black socks. Yoongi retrieves a pair of black briefs, and you both drop your towels. You try your best to focus on the task at hand but find it impossible not to watch his lean legs and round ass step into his briefs.
"Staring is rude," Yoongi says, and you raise your eyebrows, watching as his eyes rove your body.
"Is that so?" you tease, stepping into your underwear.
Yoongi's eyes linger while you clip your bra into place and adjust the thin cups, then he returns to the closet. You slide on the stiff denim pants, doing a squat to get them into place, then sit on the bed to put on socks. Yoongi returns wearing loose-fit black slacks with cargo pockets, and you struggle to hold in a laugh.
"What?" he asks, feigning offense and looking down at his clothing.
"Here, I thought you were going to wear something other than black."
Yoongi's gaze falls to your black jeans, and you expect him to tease you, but instead, he returns to the closet, and you hear the shuffling of clothing. You did not expect him to take your teasing to heart and change, but you delight in how easily influenced he is. He must be especially eager to please today.
When Yoongi returns, he wears loose-fit blue jeans with the white tee tucked in. He winds a black leather belt through the loops, then looks up, holding his arms out by his sides as if to ask whether you approve.
"Perfect," you say, smiling as you stand.
Yoongi approaches and reaches for your zipper and button, which you have left undone. You look down, watching as he fixes your pants, and are shocked when he lifts a finger and playfully taps it to the end of your nose. You laugh incredulously, and you lift a hand to smack Yoongi on the shoulder, but he catches it and presses it to his chest.
"What has gotten into you?" you tease, still attempting to shove at Yoongi but barely forcing him to move.
Yoongi yanks you close, causing you to stumble and lift your other hand to his chest. With his free hand, he takes you by the chin and tilts your head upward. "Just miss you," he mutters before pressing his lips to yours.
You melt in his hold, swaying and stumbling slightly, finding it hard to keep your knees from giving out. Yoongi continues to hold your hand to his chest but wraps his other around your ribs, holding you close. Your fingers grip onto the fabric of his shirt and your mouth falls open as his tongue deepens the kiss.
In this moment, it is easy to forget everything that troubles you, and you find yourself once again daydreaming of a life where Yoongi is just an average man, and you are able to share an average life with him and Namjoon. You imagine running a small ramen shop somewhere by the sea with no care in the world. Only, when Yoongi breaks the kiss and smiles at you, the dream dissipates at the sight of the scar. This man will never know a normal life, and the harsh ways in which it has affected you will never fully fade.
"Ready?" Yoongi asks, unaware of your warring thoughts.
You swallow a lump of unease and nod. The two of you pick out sneakers, and Yoongi grabs a black leather jacket, ignoring the playful look you give him as the two of you walk hand in hand through the suite to the door. You observe the wide space while sliding into the shoes, remembering bits and pieces of the night before with Namjoon on the large tan couch, glancing through the glass wall to the city below.
The elevator is slow but private, and as you exit through the vast apartment lobby full of folks coming and going, you are relieved when nobody seems to recognize Yoongi. Although he walks with his back straight and head high, there is an ease to him that he does not carry in Seoul.
The café is only a couple blocks away, and although it is busy, you find a table in the far corner where you are able to see the entire space but remain away from everyone. Yoongi tells stories of past visits to Busan, of trying to get his footing here before Ryujin's betrayal caused him to back out of several real estate pursuits. And although you nod and watch as he speaks, a lot of what he says dissipates, leaving your mind. You are too distracted by how fleeting this moment feels that it slips through your fingers, impossible to hold. Also, you admit you no longer wish to hear about the family organization.
When there is a pause, you reach across the table and ask, "If you weren't in the position you are now, what do you suppose you would be doing with your life?"
The question seems innocuous enough, and you are glad when Yoongi shrugs and seems to ponder it. After a moment, however, he says, "I could not imagine a life other than the one I have been given."
Although he smiles softly, there is a sternness to him that makes you anxious to press him for more, but you do so anyway.
"Come on," you squeeze his hand, "anything in the world. What interests you?"
"Well, everything interests me, darling."
What is with his non-answers? You feel antsy suddenly.
"Alright, but—"
"What would you be doing?" he asks, lifting a brow.
Truth be told, you were not hoping to share your side of the question. This was meant as an exercise to know more about the person he is outside of the family. The organization. You turn over all number of possibilities and glance around at the café, at the people conversing and milling about, at passersby outside the large windows.
"I don't know," you finally admit, "something in the hospitality field, I suppose. I enjoy working with people and helping them."
Yoongi rolls his eyes, and you take offense even before he says, "Ah, yes, you actually enjoyed being a bartender."
"Of course I did," you mutter, frowning. "I enjoyed getting to know the customers, and it was fun making drinks and singing along to the jukebox. Those jobs are not as lowly as you think."
"I just feel as though there are better ways to help people than serving them drinks and food. You are smart enough to have studied law or medicine."
You snort out an approximation of a laugh, and when he cocks his head in question, you shake yours. "Law or medicine?" You're incredulous. "Both of those fields have a high potential for stress. You've seen how well I handle stress."
"And dealing with drunk men is not stressful?" Yoongi asks, leaning close enough that you could reach out and slap him. Tempting.
"It's not the same. Mistakes made as a doctor could kill someone, or harm them in unimaginable ways. What if I killed someone?"
"Driving while under the influence kills people. How is allowing them to get drunk any different?"
You tongue the inside of your mouth, counting down from five and doing your best not to snap. "Yoongi," you finally say through grit teeth, "you know that is not the same."
"So, law, it is," Yoongi says with a satisfied smile, and you hate how amused he looks.
You shake your head. "Lawyers also have the potential to do great harm to the public." You raise a hand at the sight of him opening his mouth. "And before you recommend I become a public defender who only serves people I believe in, the answer is still no. I don't see myself fighting for someone else's life. The job is admirable but it's not something I would enjoy. Plus, I never went to high school, so how do you expect me to study law?"
"You can quickly learn at the high school equivalent and ace any necessary qualification examination, and then I will pay for you to study at any college in the world that you desire," Yoongi responds, ignoring the petulant roll of your eyes. "Besides, darling, enjoyment comes from the money that is made. High stress should be remedied with magnificent stress relief."
You mutter, "Of course you would say that," before giving it any thought.
Thankfully, Yoongi barely looks offended. Unfortunately, he leans even closer to ask, "And just what does that mean, darling?"
After a slow, deep inhale and exhale, you lean your elbows on the table and softly say, "The drugs, the private jets, the designer clothing. The mansion out in the middle of nowhere. All of that is evidence of the extremely stressful, risky life you lead."
Yoongi scoffs and sits back in his chair, saying, "I have no stress to speak of," and you feel your anger rise.
"Maybe not right this moment. But you have." When he says nothing, you continue. "Disappearing to Hong Kong. And in Paris, with the h—" Heroin. You find you cannot say it. Yoongi raises a brow, and you shake your head, changing the topic with your voice low. "I don't care if you think customer service jobs are beneath you. I like them. I like helping people in mundane ways. I don't care about all the material shit, the substances, or the penthouses in other countries. The cost is too high. Watching Jimin nearly die…that cost is too fucking high."
Yoongi hums but he says nothing more. The silence feels overwhelming, and you lift the half-eaten raspberry danish and take a bite, savoring the tangy-sweet blend of fruit and cheese. You continue to glance around, not ready to look him in the eyes just yet, attempting to gather your thoughts.
Although you imagine that a person raised to not want for anything may feel a disconnect from the working class, you cannot stand it when he or anyone else looks down on them. A chunk of his livelihood rests on the shoulders of customer service and hospitality workers, and he conveniently overlooks that fact. Hell, you would resume bartending tonight if you thought Ryujin would give you the go-ahead. In fact, you think you will file the thought away to bring up with her later.
Once you are finished eating, the two of you walk back to the penthouse in silence. You do not hold hands, and when Yoongi opens doors for you, he does not place his fingertips on the small of your back. Only once you are back on the top floor and the front door does Yoongi approach, holding his arms open.
"Come here," he says.
You hesitate but quickly give in, shuffling toward Yoongi and resting your head against his chest. He lets out a long exhale and wraps his arms around you, but your arms hang limply by your sides.
"Sorry if I struck a chord," he says.
You close your eyes and say nothing. Yoongi's stubborn insistence that his way of thinking is the only correct way pisses you off, but you do not want to risk saying the wrong thing and ruining these final moments together.
"I need to get on the road very soon. But I cannot stand to see you upset." He takes a step back, sliding his hands to rest on your shoulders, holding you at arm's length. "What can I do?"
You shake your head, eyes falling to the shiny zipper on his leather jacket. Your mind races with the possibilities. Kiss, touch one another, convince him to go to bed just for a quickie, maybe return to the shower to wash away your frustration. But you just shrug and say, "Nothing. It's fine. I don't want to keep you if you need to go."
Lips press against your forehead, and you close your eyes, this time lifting your hands to return his hug. Your hold is loose, but he does not seem to mind. Before you know it, his touch retreats. He walks into the master bedroom, and you stay glued in place, crossing your arms over your chests. Are the two of you on such different wavelengths?
Yoongi returns dressed head to toe in black, buttoning one of his cuffs. "Shall we?" he asks, holding his hand toward the door.
You realize it is time for the two of you to leave, and you find yourself swaying between the door and the direction of the bedroom, wanting to take some of the clothing back with you.
"I will have someone deliver your things," Yoongi says as he takes your hand and gently tugs you over the threshold.
Once more, you make your way down the elevator hand in hand. Yoongi caresses your knuckle with his thumb. Your palm begins to sweat. You wonder whether he anticipated another argument and wanted to remove you from the eyes and ears of the public first, and the thought settles like bile in your stomach.
What am I doing, you ask yourself over and over like a mantra. What am I doing? What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?
Valet brings a black sports car around, which you recognize as Namjoon’s. It even smells like him—like a bright spring morning in full bloom—and as you slide into the front seat, you remember the first time you were in this car and all the ways in which your life became tangled with his that day. Namjoon, soft and gentle and flirtatious. Namjoon using a weapon you chose to break a man’s kneecap.
The drive to the hanok is quiet. Yoongi hums a tune with the radio off, and you watch as the city shifts and the buildings become smaller. Unlike Yoongi, Ryujin has a property blocks from the action. The city butts up to the ocean, and as the car pulls onto the Ryujin’s property, you catch a whiff of saltwater and something sweet. In another life, this place could feel like home.
A security gate opens after a brief pause, and you watch as the large hanok doors open and Ryujin, tiny in the massive entry, comes stepping out in a tight little black dress and bare feet. She folds her arms over her chest and leans a hip against the doorframe, watching as Yoongi drives as close as he can and turns off the ignition.
"I will see you very soon," he says as he turns to you, unclasping his seatbelt.
Your ring sits heavy on your finger, and you watch light glint off it. It is easier than looking Yoongi in the eye.
"Alright," is all you can bring yourself to say.
Only when you catch movement in the periphery do you turn to face him. His smile is sad, scar deep and pink and giving him a hard edge. You look a bit too long before reaching up and delicately tracing your fingertip from its top tip to the eyelid. Surprisingly, Yoongi smiles, mouth breaking wide, and you lower your hand before leaning in for a kiss. Yoongi groans into the press of lips that neither of you deepens. Instead, you rest your forehead against his and frown.
"Am I making the right choice?" you utter softly.
Yoongi hums. "Only you can decide."
"Hmm." You sigh, trying and failing not to spiral. But if you constantly question your choice, can it possibly be a good one? "Come and get me if I change my mind?"
You look Yoongi in the eyes. This close, they are dark blobs, but they scrunch slightly as he smiles. "In a heartbeat, darling. You know I will."
"Okay," you say, sighing.
You remain buckled in, and the belt pulls against your clavicle, but you spend another moment breathing Yoongi's air before sitting back, unclasping the belt, and relaxing.
"The clothing," you say, struggling to make a choice. Bringing it here would make this move feel too final. You nibble your bottom lip, mulling it over, then ask, "Take it back?"
Yoongi knits his brow and opens his mouth to speak. You know that he is going to protest, so you shake your head and cut him off.
"I don't want more than the suitcase. It feels too final if you move all of those things here, and I don't want that."
As Yoongi's expression softens, so does your trepidation. You smile despite warring emotions, namely a sadness to see Yoongi go, and Yoongi smiles in return.
"Alright," he says, leaning close for one more kiss. You close your eyes for the measly second that his lips press to yours and open them as he says, "Soon, darling. I will see you soon. I promise."
With a nod, you say, "Okay," and begin to reach for the door handle. From the corner of your eye, you see that Ryujin is still in the doorway. A chill works down your spine, and you scoff, turning slightly to Yoongi. "Has she been watching this entire time?"
Yoongi looks ahead. "It would not surprise me."
"Creepy," you groan.
Yoongi chuckles. "She has always been a bit of an odd one."
Despite allowing yourself to lower your guard around Ryujin, talking about her with Yoongi still sets you on edge. She may have been a means to an end, but she played a crucial role in Yoongi's past. An intimate, crucial role. The thought of it makes you uneasy.
"I have some deals to finalize but I will be in touch," Yoongi says, leaning in to leave a kiss on your cheek. "Once my schedule is less hectic, I will have you come visit us at Paradise." He presses a kiss against your temple, and you turn to steal one more from his lips.
"Alright. See you soon, Yoongi." You cannot look at his face so you look at his hand on the gear shift instead.
“You know I love you, darling.”
You crack a smile and nod. “Of course. I love you too.”
As you exit the vehicle, you give one more glance Yoongi’s way. You struggle to hold eye contact. Your body feels heavy as you stand and get your bearings. Then a body is advancing quickly and you turn to find Hwasa running on bare feet to pull you into a hug and ask with a frown whether you need anything. In the distance, you see Ryujin retreat into her home.
You shake your head and fight the urge to laugh. Although Hwasa holds your face delicately in her hands, you manage to twist enough to find that Yoongi is still parked with one hand on the wheel and bent low, watching you with a smile. You roll your eyes and lift a hand to wave in his direction, then allow yourself to be fawned over as Hwasa grabs your hand and leads you into the hanok, tugging you straight into the kitchen for sliced fruit and filtered tap water. It is easy to forget the gaping hole in your heart when Hwasa leans close and gossips conspiratorially about how Ryujin-noona came home with her ex last night and has been holed up in her room all day, until the moment you returned home.
"Ex?" you mutter around a mouthful of cantaloupe, doing your best to chew but laughing at the wide, eager expression in your friend's eyes. "Who—" you manage to ask, but Hwasa holds a finger to your lips and shakes her head.
"Later," she whispers, leaning even closer. "We do not speak her name."
Her. Interesting. You file the information away for later and swallow the mouthful of fruit.
* * *
You:
I miss you.
Kitten:
I miss you more, darling. How has Busan treated you these last two nights?
You:
Salty.
Cold.
Kitten:
Cold. :]
Yes, it does get chilly on the ocean at night.
How are the girls treating you?
You:
Fine.
But I miss my men. :(
Kitten:
Soon. I promise.
You:
How soon is soon?
Kitten:
That is, unfortunately, hard to say.
You:
:(
Kitten:
Give us a call? Namjoon is pouting.
You:
How could I say no? ;)
* * *
For the third time in a week, you grip onto your phone with one hand while your other hand rubs circles over your clit. You pant and gasp, coming down from your high and slowing your hand until it stills. Then you open your eyes and giggle, feeling self-conscious to have an audience.
"Incredible," Namjoon praises, fist holding his cock while Yoongi slowly uses a finger to scoop at a streak of cum on Namjoon's tan, sweat-slick tummy before lifting it to his lips.
Exhaustion covers you like a blanket, and you shiver from your sweat turning cold. Although you wear a black slip dress, the front is pulled down to reveal your breasts, and the skirt is hiked up over your tummy. You fight the urge to drop your arm, still eager to let your men see you a little longer before calling it a night. But you kick at the black comforter until it comes free from underneath you and use your feet and free hand to pull it over your legs.
"Soon?" you ask.
"Soon," Yoongi says, the same way he says it each time.
You yawn, then smile, watching as Namjoon follows suit, then Yoongi.
"Alright," you sigh. "Sleepy."
"Sweet dreams, darling," Yoongi says as Namjoon grumbles, "I miss you sweetheart."
"I miss you more," you say, doing your best to smile despite the sadness that fills you to the brim. "Night night."
Yoongi blows a kiss as Namjoon says, "Sleep sweet," and you wave while ending the call. Tears break, and you take in a deep, shattered breath, pulling the blanket high and crying yourself nearly to sleep.
A light taptaptap pulls you from the deep, dark embrace of slumber, and you grumble, doing your best to spin while calling, "Come in," unsure whether your guest has a way in but certain she must because those taps undoubtedly belong to Hwasa.
You hear the door to the hallway crack open, followed by the sounds of shouting, laughter, and music.
"Dove," Hwasa calls softly. "Did I wake you?"
You merely groan in response, only half aware of the fact that you never adjusted your dress and that your breasts are still hanging out from the top. It is a struggle to get the fabric back in place, but you do so with heavy limbs, just in time for a body to plop down onto the mattress.
"I suppose you want to stay asleep?" Hwasa asks, and you can hear the pout in her voice. She clearly does not want you to stay asleep, and if past behavior dictates present behavior, you can surmise that she is moments away from grabbing you by the arm and yanking you in the direction of the noises. This has become a nightly ritual.
"I suppose not," you concede before it becomes a game of tug-of-war. After all, what does it hurt to socialize with the other women?
You sit up and yawn, stretching your arms and back. Then you begin to slowly kick the comforter away, careful not to reveal your lack of panties.
"Need to change," you grumble, yawning once more and turning to find your pretty friend watching you with bloodshot eyes and a droopy smile. She leans with one hand on the bed and trails you with her gaze, making heat rush to your cheeks.
You slide open the top drawer of the dresser, which you have only recently organized your bras, panties, socks, and sleepwear into, leaving the rest of the drawers empty. Then you pull out a pair of panties, which you slide into as quickly as you can, ignoring the wolf whistle coming from your bed while you grab a pair of black joggers and black tee that you wish still carried the musky scent of their owner. You feel silly sliding the straps of the dress down and then putting the shirt over top, doing your best not to expose yourself, though you are not sure Hwasa would mind. Then you wiggle into the pants and out of the dress in a haphazard but successful dance.
Can she detect the scent of your pleasure hanging in the air? Without a suite of your own, you have not had a chance to wash your hands, and you are unsure whether it still lingers.
On bare feet, you pad around to where the door is open a crack, and Hwasa stands, holding out a hand for you. It feels second nature to slide your palm against hers, holding tightly enough for her to yank you around. Although the lighting in the hallway is dim, you squint as you leave the dark cave of your bedroom.
Women are sat at the dining room table, crowding the kitchen island, and dancing in open spaces in between. In the living room, there is a pile of limbs with Ryujin in the center, half-seated and gripping a green soju bottle in her small fist. She sings the lyrics to some pop song into the open end of the bottle as if it were a microphone, and in this moment, it is easy to forget everything else you know about her.
"Thirsty?" Hwasa asks as she plucks an unopened bottle of grapefruit soju off the counter on the way into the living room.
Rather than respond—or argue that soju is unlikely to quench your thirst—you allow yourself to be dragged toward the pile of women, accepting the responsibility of twisting the soju cap while Hwasa holds the bottle in place so that you do not have to bother with unlinking hands. You cradle the cap in your palm as you take the bottle and drink, and when you hand it back, Hwasa lowers the two of you onto a pile of cushions.
"There she is!" Ryujin shouts as she twists her body, causing women to adjust their limbs where they drape over hers.
You sit with Hwasa, Moonbyul, Solar, and Ryujin to your right and a couch full of miscellaneous women to the left. "Hey, noona," you say with a sleepy smile, accepting the soju once more from Hwasa and having a large, sweet gulp.
Conversation ebbs and flows about nothing at all. There is no news to share in a place where nothing changes; no drama, no gossip, nothing worth complaining about beyond the stagnation of existing in a glamorous place with seemingly never-ending chopped fruit and bottles of booze. It is not as if you will confess to what is really on your mind.
* * *
The very next night, you decide that perhaps you will voice a little of what is on your mind. After all, this life of limbs and warm bodies and hangovers is starting to wear you thin, despite how nice it is to lie so close to Hwasa, who plays with your fingertips between hers and rubs her toes against the arches of your feet.
"Noona," you say, lying back and staring up at the makeshift clouds on the ceiling that are currently glowing in shades of pink and green.
Ryujin hums.
"You wouldn't happen to need a bartender or cocktail waitress, would you?" you ask somewhat quickly, nervous to even make such a suggestion and certain that if you do not vomit all the words out in one glob, they may not come out at all. You clear your throat and, much softer, add, "At Serendipity, I mean."
Ryujin hums again, this time long and slow, pitch going up and down as if she has a lot to ponder. "I think so," she finally says, and you let out a soft sigh of relief. Her tone is laced with a hint of venom as she asks, “Why? Is our sweet dove getting bored?”
The idea that anyone could be anything but bored in an environment like this is preposterous. Still, you lick your lips, smile at the cotton clouds, and say, “Just want to make myself useful, is all.”
You think you hear Ryujin chuckle, but then she continues to coo at someone in her immediate pile.
“Gonna leave me?” Hwasa pouts against your neck, and you roll instinctively toward her.
Your immediate desire is to comfort her—to consider giving in. Her voice is so sweet, and her skin is so soft and warm. But you pout instead, turning your cheek just enough to see her wide grin. She digs her sharp, manicured nails into your ribs, and you practically squeal as you retaliate against her ribs with the hand that is not pinned under her weight.
* * *
Namjoon sighs, and you lean your face against the warm glass of your phone. It is rare that the two of you get a chance to speak alone, and you close your eyes to the dark room in the hopes of catching every minuscule sound he makes.
"Yoongi is not going to like the idea of you working there."
You pout to the empty dark, words coming out barely above a whisper. "I know…but I'm bored."
"I get it, sweetheart. We just—" another sigh. You sink deeper into your pillow. "We wish you had more options. Yoongi is still determined that you could return to school."
You grumble, "Not this, again."
"You can take classes to prepare for a qualification examination," Namjoon insists, sounding just like Yoongi. "We can buy you into any college you would like after you have the basics down."
You huff and roll onto your back, feeling the urge to throw your phone. You cannot fathom returning to school after nearly an entire lifetime of being out of a classroom. And with twenty-year-old's who are much more book-smart and determined than you are? It sounds like hell. "I'm tired of this conversation, Joon."
You feel like a child being scolded by her father, and you roll back onto your side with your phone resting against your ear. Opening your eyes, the room is dark save for slivers of gold that shine in through the window on the door that leads out to the courtyard.
"Alright, alright," Namjoon concedes. It is sweet of him to worry after you, but you are sick of it. "You sound tired."
"I'm not," you pout, but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, you yawn.
Namjoon chuckles. "Talk soon? I should go downstairs and check in on their meeting."
"At this hour?" you ask, moving your phone away from your ear to see that it is nearly 2:30 in the morning.
"Busy bees," Namjoon says, giving you nothing.
"Alright," you rest the phone against your ear and close your eyes. "I love you, Joonbug."
You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "I love you more, sweetheart."
Your heart fills with warmth, but it is fleeting. As soon as you hear Namjoon end the call, you feel the urge to cry. Somehow, even with the communication, Namjoon and Yoongi feel further away than usual.
* * *
You stand in the mirror and take in your uneasy reflection. Ryujin places a hand on the small of your back and a hand on your chest, and she presses, straightening your posture.
“Long spine,” she says, drawing an invisible line from your shoulders up above your head. "Head up, chest forward, shoulders back."
It is not that you have poor posture. You are just uncomfortable. You exhale and straighten out, rolling your shoulders back. This appeases Ryujin enough to give a curt nod. You swallow thickly and hold back from asking how this could possibly get worse for fear of jinxing yourself.
Without having to ask, you can surmise that Ryujin plans to employ you in the VIP bar of Serendipity. You wear a burgundy vest that has been taped to your skin, burgundy slacks, and a black tie that only barely covers your cleavage. Your hair is pulled tight from your face, and Yeji does your makeup in neutral tones.
You were surprised to see Yeji enter your small room, and as she applies gloss to your slack lips, you ponder over the communication network Yoongi and Ryujin must share. Certainly, there was a blip in time when they were heavily feuding, but just how many people bounce between the houses? If Yeji is able to go back and forth, then why was Hyunjin a secret? Or is Yeji a new addition to this crew, sent by Yoongi to take care of you in Jimin's place?
“Perfect!” Yeji announces as she steps back and inspects her work.
You smile, but it feels forced. Despite how badly you want to get out of the house and make something of your time and energy, you feel less confident about this whole thing.
It’s just nerves, you tell yourself. Beginning a new job is always scary, and compounded with it being a job at a mafia-run nightclub that doubles as a brothel, the stakes feel all the higher. However, the same cannot be said for how much time you spent in Paradise. After all, Paradise felt like a second home while you were there.
Does that make the hanok your third home? And Serendipity your fourth? Are they homes at all, or simply stops on a detour?
Arms wrap around you, followed by your favorite floral perfume, and you are torn from your thoughts and greeted by Hwasa’s beautiful smile. Her makeup is done, and she wears a sheer black corset top tucked into black slacks, making you wonder whether she will be working as well.
You must wear your question on your face because she pretends to tuck hair behind your ear as she steps close and smooths her hands down the straps of your vest and down your bare arms, saying, “Remember when you would come distract me at work?”
Heat rises to your cheeks, and you nod. Were you really so distracting? You think of her and Jeongguk always turning up to flirt with you and smile.
“It seems the tables have turned,” she continues, taking your hands in hers. Your palms tingle with sweat, and you resist the urge to pull away.
“Will you be there tonight?” you ask, hopeful.
Hwasa squeezes your hands and nods, humming softly. “I wouldn’t throw our dove to the lions.”
You once thought of yourself as a wolf, but could that be true? Are you any match for lions? Surely you have proven to yourself and to everyone else that you are, in fact, a prey animal and not a predator.
Ryujin is in high spirits as she ushers you to the red SUV with a pep in her step. You, on the other hand, feel like your shoes are filled with lead. Why do you suddenly feel so much dread?
Hwasa holds your hands in her lap the whole way to Serendipity. When the vehicle pulls up, the three of you get out, and Ryujin tosses her keys to the valet man, who, upon catching them, bows low at the hips. You are led along a familiar path, through curtains and upstairs, until you reach the VIP section.
A tall man with a round face and wolfish smile eyes you up and down and then leans forward, asking, "You know how to take orders?"
Hating his tone but eager to make a good first impression, you nod and mutter, "Yes."
"She has bartending experience, and knows how to deliver drinks and schmooze with filthy old men," Ryujin cuts in, waving him off. "Give her time to settle in. She's always a little shy at first."
Hwasa squeezes your hand and lets it go, instantly filling you with regret. You bow your head, unsure to whom, then rub your hands down your pants and straighten your shoulders. Then the women disperse and the man, who introduces himself as Daesung, puts you to work.
After being given a brief tour of the space, including a small storage room filled with dishes, towels, and cleaning supplies, you stand at the end of the bar and wipe down a stack of black rectangular trays, spraying each one with disinfectant. Although you suspect these have already been cleaned prior to your arrival, Daesung does not stop you. He rambles about the type of clientele and fills you in on your duties—which are next to nothing outside of serving drinks—and you are grateful for a chance to just listen and get used to the atmosphere.
Although Serendipity is open, it is still rather early, and the booths are empty. The music that plays is the usual downtempo sexy fare that you are accustomed to. It takes you a moment to realize Daesung has stopped talking, and you glance up to find him watching you.
"Have I lost you?" he asks.
You shake your head no, then repeat his words, "It is important to memorize orders because these men are not impressed with a woman who has to write things down."
Daesung cracks a smile and nods. "Yes. Most men order the same thing each time they visit, and if they are powerful enough, they will expect that their guests will graciously accept anything they are given to drink. So, for example, business men will need to have their orders taken. However, if you see the leader of the Seoul mafia come strolling in—"
You hold in a gasp and do your best to school your features, but Daesung must clock your expression, and he pauses, tilting his head.
Determined to seem nonplused, you urge him on. "If I see the leader of the Seoul mafia come strolling in…"
Daesung seems to be trying to read you, but he gives up and turns on his toes, reaching for a bottle on the highest shelf. The label is in Japanese, and the contents of the bottle are close to full. "Everyone in his party gets a glass of our finest whiskey, served neat. You will not take his order, so you will need to memorize his face. He likes being serviced without having to ask. And this bottle is reserved only for him. If anyone else asks for our finest, they receive our second best."
"Does the leader of the Seoul mafia come in often?" you ask, keeping your expression even.
Daesung cracks a smile. "Not as often as he used to."
With a nod, you return to your task of wiping down trays. You wonder how long this tradition has been in place and whether that whiskey has any real significance. Surely, Ryujin must know. The thought makes you sick.
By the time there are men seated in one of the booths, you are antsy. It no longer feels like second nature to plaster on a smile and greet the guests, and when they mutter their drink order, you feel silly for having to ask them to repeat it. These men are clearly already drunk, and they sink into the booth with their arms outstretched, biting their lips as they eye up the fresh meat before them.
When you return with a tray of three glasses, a pile of cocaine has been dumped on the table, and the men are taking turns sniffing its contents through a metal straw. One man attempts to reach for your hand, and you giggle demurely as you avoid him to stand up straight. The moment you are out of their line of sight, your smile pulls to a frown.
It should come as no surprise that the men who come to Serendipity's VIP section are all sleazy. It is customary to have no name tag and not tell the men your name, so they call you Flower and a variation of flower types, leading the men to make all sorts of flower-based innuendos that messily allude to sex.
The men all tip well, which is unexpected, as tipping is not customary. At first, you insist that they keep their stack of won, but then you begin to collect it, splitting the earnings with Daesung. By the time there is a lull in your work, you lean with your back against the bar and watch from afar as the shadowy figures on the dancefloor grind and sway under flashing lights beyond the VIP railing.
"So what's your deal?" Daesung asks, wiping water spots out of clean glasses with a dry rag. "Why is the owner of the bar bringing you by and announcing that you're the new girl without warning?"
You shrug. It is really none of his business why you are here, and you haven't given this line of questioning any thought.
"Needed a change of scenery," is all you can think to reply. This wins you a chuckle-grunt.
"Alright," he says, leaning close, "keep your secrets then."
You crack a soft smile as he walks off.
* * *
The trouble with sleep paralysis is that you are always just conscious enough to feel the full brunt of the fear that gets closer and closer, covering you like a dark spirit in the night, suffocating you as the air gets trapped in your lungs.
When you finally wake with a gasp, you sit up, wrapping your arms around your ribs and hugging yourself tight. The late morning sun shines through gauzy blinds, and it is enough to make you squint your eyes closed. For just a moment, you are hazy enough to think that the strong, warm arms of Yoongi or Namjoon are going to wrap around you and gently tug you back into the safety and warmth of the bed.
"Dove?" Hwasa asks so soft and so sweet, and a wave of sadness crests and crashes so fast that it causes you to hiccup. Yoongi and Namjoon are miles away.
Small, warm hands gently grab your face, and you feel the press of a forehead against yours. Hwasa wipes at tears you hadn't realized you were crying, and when you open your eyes, hers are wide and worried, centimeters away.
She holds you as you catch your breath and allow your surroundings and circumstances to fully settle around you. In this moment, you could easily lean forward and press your lips to hers. In another life, you would do so without giving it any thought.
"Come back to sleep," she says, and you nod.
You allow yourself to be tugged back down to the pillow, and you close your eyes as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you close, forehead to forehead.
* * *
It is around 3:30 in the morning when a man reaches for your wrist and attempts to pull you close. Luckily, he is drunk, and his clammy hand slides away the moment you react and jerk your arm back, but you worry about possibly angering him as he sits up straight, wobbling slightly and assessing you.
"Come on," he mutters, spittle flying from between his pouty lips. "Don't be a fucking prude. I pay well. I can show you a good time in one of those expensive little suites downstairs."
Feeling all politeness drain away, you simply bow your head and leave the table. Although you have been encouraged to cut men off when they seem too drunk, you hope that this man dies of alcohol poisoning.
Daesung must clock your mood as you approach, and he drops his rag and walks to your corner of the bar, asking, "Need me to throw anyone out?"
It is only your second night on the clock, and you are already tired of coming to this place. You shake your head, knowing that the actions of that man are likely normal around here.
"Just questioning my life choices," you say, watching as the other cocktail waitress greets some men with a bow and shows them to a booth. Although it is not customary to have two cocktail waitresses on a shift, you were relieved when she did not lose her hours for the sake of you showing up. She even seemed somewhat relieved to have backup when the two of you were introduced.
"I'm surprised someone as timid as you wanted to work here at all," Daesung says, and it makes you scoff.
"Not timid," you say, although you do feel as if all confidence has been sapped from you since stepping foot in this building. You search for a better descriptor, but none comes. To your surprise, Daesung seems to be waiting for you to continue.
Daesung has a welcoming round face when he smiles, with full lips and narrow almond-shaped eyes. Although he does not hide his feelings well, showing every modicum of disdain and sarcasm brightly, he also seems warm and kind.
"Just not the environment I am used to serving in," you say as three more men enter the VIP space. You notice Daesung stand a little more alert but ignore it to add, "I'm used to the dive bar crowd."
"Sir," the other waitress says, bowing deeply at the hips. She keeps her head down while pointing her arm toward the booths. "Please, follow me."
However, one of the men seems to have spotted you, and he cocks his head to the side while openly gawking. "I'll have her serve me," he says, eyes still on you, and when the other waitress looks up, she seems surprised.
"As you wish," she says, bowing once more and scurrying in your direction. "Chaebol. They sit in the last booth," she mutters as she reaches you.
Something about the way the man watches you has all of your alarms ringing, and you swallow thickly before walking forward and holding out your right arm. "Right this way, gentlemen," you say as you begin to walk. The other waitress made a show of bowing to these men, but you see no reason why you should care so much.
There is commotion behind you, muttering and scoffing that is barely heard over the club music, and you do your best to ignore it. At the final booth, you step as close to the wall as you can, giving the three men their space to sit. Two of the men do so, but the third continues to stand, and you reluctantly meet his eye. He is middle-aged with deep pores and frown lines. There is a familiarity in the way he looks at you, but you are certain you have never seen this man before.
"Name?" he asks.
You bow your head and motion to the table, saying, "Please have a seat, sir. I will have your drinks in just a moment."
"How do you know what we drink?" the man asks.
You take in a slow breath, doing your best to keep your composure, and say, "My associates know and they have undoubtedly already prepared what you desire."
The man steps close, blocking you in against the wall, and you feel the urge to leap over the railing to the dancefloor but know that you are likely not agile enough to stick that kind of landing. There is booze on the man's breath as he asks, "And what if I'm in the mood to try something new tonight?"
"Are you, sir?" you ask, eyes locked on his.
The man smirks, licks his bottom lip, and takes a step back. Passing his palms down the front of his jacket, he says, "I know I've seen you before."
"I'm new here, sir," you say, doing your best not to panic.
Between your years spent in brothels and your fairly public relationship with the kingpin of Seoul, you wonder whether it is possible that this man has seen you before. Knowing nothing about the business deals Yoongi makes and who he makes them with, a man with enough wealth and status to be here could pose a great risk, and you feel foolish for not realizing that sooner.
Without another word, the man has a seat. He turns to begin talking with the other two men, and you quickly make your way past the other booths, not bothering to glance in and see if any of them need anything. By the time you make it back to the bar, you are shaken and doing your best to keep your breathing in check.
Daesung cocks his head and mutters your name, and you shake your head, saying, "I'm fine. What do they drink?"
On a tray on the bar are three glasses of clear liquid and an open bottle of sake. You are relieved that they will be serving themselves for the time being and take the drinks down to the booth. None of the men so much as glance at you while you set down the three glasses and bottle, and as you check on the other booths, everyone is fine. You keep your guard up, however, not letting it down until you are all alone, standing under the hot stream of Hwasa's shower.
* * *
It is strange the way some nights you feel bulletproof and others you feel meek and cowardly. Your first week at Serendipity is no walk in the park, but you surprise yourself with how thick your skin becomes when your hackles are raised. You forget about everything that exists outside of Serendipity because it is easier to compartmentalize. Hwasa is always somewhere in the building, and you hold onto the notion that she is nearby in order to push through the early morning hours and make an exorbitant amount of cash for very little actual work.
Daesung has taken to sneaking you shots of soju and Japanese whiskey to loosen you up, and you find that it makes tolerating these men so much easier, especially as the clientele become progressively drunk and bold. Although there are rarely women in these booths, the ones you do spot seem like hookups that will eventually end up down in the basement or mistresses who are being shown a good time. It is rare that a booth will be clean of drug remnants after a party leaves, and twice, you have found used needles wedged in the seats.
If you allow yourself to think too long and hard about how these people are operating and all the people they may be putting at risk with their behavior, you begin to hone in on your place in it all and the danger you pose to society. So you simply do not. Numbness is the game.
Ryujin mentioned tonight, as she was dropping you off, that Yoongi has requested you and the girls make a trip to Seoul tomorrow, so that is all you have been able to think about. There is an event at Paradise that Jeongguk and Jimin have been preparing, and they want you there for their opening night. All you have been told is that it is masquerade-themed.
You allow yourself to imagine what kind of mask you might wear, as well as an outfit. Have one of your men chosen the perfect gown, or will Ryujin and her women be in charge of dolling you up? The possibilities are overwhelmingly endless, and you circle the lip of an empty shot glass with your fingertip as you imagine.
The sounds of shoes walking into the VIP space pull you from your thoughts, and you stand up tall and turn, keeping your face as unreadable as possible. You recognize the man as the same one who was here with two others several nights before, and you steel yourself for his booze breath.
"Sir, welcome back," you call with a bow of your head, not willing to kiss his ass and bow at the hips the way your coworker has.
Behind you, Daesung sets a glass on the bar, and you twist to take it in your hands, then follow the man to the booth all the way in the back, giving him enough time and space to sit before you approach.
As you set the glass down, you begin to ask, "Just you tonight?" But he cuts you off.
"Kaori, do you really not recognize me?"
It is as if ice water has been dumped over your head, and you instinctively take a step back, asking, "Sorry?"
"Don't play coy," he says as he takes his drink in one hand, leaning with his elbow against the table. "I've always wondered where you ran off to. Rumor has it, you were the one who killed Seungri-hyung."
Swallowing thickly, you compose yourself and force out a laugh. It does not sound wholly believable to your own ears, but you laugh again for good measure and shake your head. The man's smile begins to straighten and twist as you say, "I'm sorry, sir, but you must be mistaking me for someone else."
He shakes his head, angry, and you take another step back. The dance music thrums through the bottoms of your feet, and in the dark stretch of balcony that overlooks the rest of the club, you feel disoriented.
He appears red in the face, but perhaps it is just the club lights. Spit flies as he says, "I know it's you!"
You are certain that if you stay a moment longer, you will lose control and probably vomit all over this man's table, so instead, you bow your head and excuse yourself, thankful that he does not follow you. Daesung looks concerned as you come around the corner and run behind the bar, searching for your phone. You squat low as you call Hwasa, thankful that she picks up and does not sound occupied.
Hwasa agrees to check on the man during the twenty minutes it takes for the other server to arrive and clock in. You down a shot of whiskey, bid the others farewell, and rush out the door without a glance back. So long to another job.
* * *
Your hands tremble as you put on the final touches of your outfit for Paradise. Despite arriving to Seoul in the early afternoon, after barely catching any sleep, the women have been adamant about not allowing you to see your men until tonight. Ryujin, in particular, seems to be frothing at the mouth over the idea of dolling you up for Yoongi, which is odd, but you feed off of her energy and follow her lead.
As you face the full-length mirror with your arms at your sides, Hwasa paints streaks in your hair—which has been pulled back and pinned up by Yeji—with silver and gold glitter mascara. Ryujin blends concealer around the edges of your lips, which are glossy and red, giving them a doll look, then she sets the makeup aside, takes you firmly by the chin, and forces you to look her in the eye. The movement startles you, but you stay calm, trying to find a hint of malice or anger in her eyes.
After a tense moment, she smiles and then sighs dreamily before pressing her lips against your cheek and letting you go. Hwasa remains on the other side of you, delicately painting your hair, and you fight the urge to lick your glossy lips and swallow thickly, doing your best to smile in return.
"I'm so proud of you, my pretty darling," Ryujin says as her lips fall into a frown.
Her eyes are glassy and red, and you realize that she must be high.
"I know that I have no business feeling so attached to you after all that has transpired," she continues, taking your hand in hers and lacing your fingers together. "Things have not always been easy, and I have made some choices that I regret. But I do not regret knowing that you and Yoongi-oppa have each other."
All you can do is nod, and you try your best not to show just how uncomfortable this conversation is making you. Thankfully, one of Ryujin's women enters the room holding onto masks.
"Ah, the pièce de résistance," Ryujin says as she takes one of the masks and holds it up to your face. It is black and appears to be made of leather, painted delicately, with bone antlers sticking out. A fawn. Although the mask itself has cute little ears and a round little snout, it is masterfully crafted and not at all childish.
Your lips tug into a hint of a smile, and you try not to laugh. You wonder whether the others will be animals, as well. Surely, they will all be apex predators.
The mask is set aside as you take one last look in the mirror. A black lace corset with leather cups and boning lifts and squeezes you in a way that has your posture permanently tall. You wear pasties over your nipples in the shape of thick black x's so your nipples do not rub against the leather, a short black satin skirt with lace trim that falls mid-thigh, and a pair of Ryujin's black strappy heels. And, to bring the outfit together, and because you are feeling sentimental, you wear the engagement ring, as well as the ring, earrings, and bracelets from Namjoon.
The rest of the women wear black slacks and matching corsets, except for Hwasa, whose black leather skirt is short and slit up both sides. All of the women seem to have various bird masks, making you the only mammal in the group.
Hwasa takes your hand and leads you through the penthouse hotel suite to the elevator. You breathe deeply, holding tightly onto the fawn mask, eager to see your men. You miss Namjoon the most fiercely these days, but truthfully, you cannot wait to see all seven of them. Yoongi and Namjoon have both been busy and have not been as available for calls as you would like.
Yoongi has been saying, "Something big is in the works," for days, but he will not say more than that, and it makes you nervous. You know that perhaps he cannot divulge all of his plans over the phone, but you wish he would give you a little bit more. You feel antsy. Yoongi promised you would see him soon, and you did not expect "soon" to be two long weeks.
As you slide into a black rental car, you breathe deeply. Hwasa squeezes your hand while her mask rests on the seat beside her.
"Nervous?" she asks, and you emphatically nod yes, worried that if you open your mouth to speak, you will cry.
It feels a bit foolish to be this anxious after only two weeks, but there have been so many other weeks and weeks; so much distance that feels impossible to close. What if, while you are off flouncing around with Hwasa, Yoongi and Namjoon lose interest in you?
As the car pulls up to Paradise, Hwasa turns and takes your mask, then gently places it over your face. You lift a hand to hold it in place as she sits tall and close and ties the ribbons around your head.
"Our beautiful doe," Hwasa says, and you do not correct her. Doe sounds better than fawn.
You help Hwasa with her bird mask, which has a delicate beak and cute leather feathers on the sides. She smiles wide as you assess the mask and center it on her face, then she pulls a small gold vial from between her breasts and begins to unscrew it. Without a word, she snorts two bitter piles of white, and you do the same, screwing the top shut and handing it back. Once it is securely in her cleavage, she opens her door, takes your hand, and pulls you out onto the sidewalk.
The music blaring from inside is bass-heavy and sexy. Mixed with the scent of leather that sits permanently at your nose, you feel a strange sensation. You take one deep breath and walk forward with your head held high, feeling a little hidden behind the mask, which helps to boost your confidence. The sounds of heels clicking in tandem rings out as you and Hwasa pass the security guard, who bows deeply, and head straight to the bar off to the right. Women spin on the poles, and men dance in cages, but all you can focus on is finding your men, which may prove to be a harder task than usual, given that everyone's faces are covered.
At the bar, Hwasa orders the two of you whiskey sours, which you accept without complaint. As the bartender mixes them, Hwasa turns to you, drapes her arms over your shoulders, and begins to sway her hips. Your hips make shallow movements; you always feel shy about dancing with her. Still, she giggles and delicately scratches at the back of your neck with her sharp fingernails, sending a shiver along your spine.
Only when the bartender sets two drinks down does Hwasa move one of her arms, but she slides the other down your back, hooking it around your waist and pulling you close. You hear Ryujin arrive because she shouts something incoherent, causing you to turn in time to watch her pull out a band of won and rain notes down on the dancers. At least the men will know to look for you, knowing she has arrived.
Judging by all the skin the patrons and employees are showing under leather straps and small swaths of lace, you surmise this must be a fetish night. There are sounds of leather hitting flesh and cries of pleasure, but from where you stand, you are unsure whether there is a live demonstration or if the sounds are part of the music. Hwasa must hear it too, because she takes your hand and tugs you toward the stairs that lead up to the VIP lounge. Although there is a security guard, he simply stands with his hands at his sides as you make your way up, tugged along and doing your best not to trip in your borrowed heels.
As soon as you reach the top, you find a wooden x in the center of the space. A woman is strapped to it, with her hands above her head and her legs spread, and she wears only a black thong. A man in a bear mask whips her with a leather flogger, and each time it brushes against her skin, she jolts and cries.
"I want to do that," you mutter somewhat mindlessly, making Hwasa squeeze your hand and squeal with delight.
You wonder whether the man in the bear mask could be one of your men. Taehyung, perhaps. But as you watch him whip the woman, you realize his body is not quite right. Taehyung is stronger and somehow softer. Heavy blinking, you realize the drug has you fixating on silly things, and you take your gaze off him to glance around the room. There are plenty of patrons in this space, but nobody looks familiar enough. Still, you study the lips and muscular structure of all the men. Shockingly, most of the people up here are fully dressed or wearing less revealing gowns and slacks.
Determined to run into someone important, you turn and make your way back down the stairs, leaving Hwasa, who makes a feeble attempt at trying to get you to stay with her. You stop halfway down the stairs and scan the room as well as you can, but all you see are bodies and masks, all dressed in black.
That is, until you spot a tall, lean man with broad shoulders wearing a large wolf mask. You decide this man must be Seokjin by the way he points his fingers and gives orders, and by the way he is still dressed from head to toe, leaving absolutely everything to the imagination. Scantally clad employees carry trays of drinks, finger foods, and what you can only imagine to be jewelry boxes full of drugs. His authority makes you question whether he could be Jeongguk, as he is supposedly the one in charge of this event, but his side profile, even with the mask, is absolutely not Jeongguk.
As you approach, he must notice you because he turns his body and opens his arms wide. "Our fawn," he says, smiling his pouty lips wide. "You made it."
What a relief that the mask you have been given seems to be unique and therefore recognizable. You step into Seokjin's arms and wrap yours around his waist, careful not to spill your drink. His cologne is warm and familiar, and you momentarily close your eyes.
When he pulls from the hug, you take a step back and glance around, asking, "What are you doing, commanding everyone?" You take a long, slow swig from your drink, already eager to have it out of your hands. The ice-cold whiskey and bittersweet mixer make you shiver.
Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. "Our Jeonggukah has his hands full. Jiminah is still recovering, so he does very little."
You nod and glance around once more. You wonder if perhaps those two might be found in the office, and suddenly, there is a tug pulling you in that direction.
"Look for the wolves," Seokjin says, and you nod. Easy enough.
You depart from Seokjin and walk first toward the bar, sucking your drink back way too fast for your own good. With the empty placed on the bar top, you turn toward the office, walking past the stages and cages. You almost miss the wolf mask in the furthest cage, near the far wall that opens into the hallway, and you stop abruptly in your tracks, glancing up. Tattoos on his hand and wrist tell you all you need to know, and as he steps close and squats down, you realize your mouth is hanging open, and you are on the brink of drooling. This is not what you imagined when Seokjin said Jeongguk's hands were full. Perhaps it was a mistake to drink that whiskey so fast on an empty stomach as you stumble slightly forward.
Sweat streaks down Jeongguk's bare torso, and his slacks are unbuttoned, showing a preview of red satin. You lick your lips and grin, feeling the remaining dregs of cocaine kick your pulse rapidly into high gear. Jeongguk reaches a hand from between the bars, takes you roughly by the back of the head, and pulls you close, slotting your lips together as you scramble and grab onto the cage bars. You wonder if he is high or if he is simply this happy to see you. With the masks, the two of you can be as bold as you would like, and so you do not resist him.
Jeongguk tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and you moan as you drop your mouth open, inviting him to deepen the kiss. However, he nips at your bottom lip, leather noses rubbing together as he smiles before letting you go and standing straight up. The motion makes you feel dizzy and petulant, and you want to whine for more, but the reason for Jeongguk's absence approaches in the form of two shirtless men closing in on either side of you.
To the left, a black dragon tattoo greets you, and to the right, paler skin littered with scars. Both of your men wear black leather harnesses that run over their shoulders and wrap around their waists, and both have on the tightest black denim pants you have ever been blessed to witness, with leather thigh harnesses that cause your eyes to wander.
"Darling," Yoongi says, stepping in close and taking your chin in his hand. Around his neck is a thick gold Cuban chain necklace encrusted in diamonds, and you fight the urge to lift your fingers and feel its rough surface.
Namjoon's lips find your shoulder and suck hard enough to pull the air from your lungs. You moan softly and sink into the feeling just as Yoongi licks over your lips and moves his lips and teeth to your throat and neck, claiming your other shoulder.
"So this is how it feels to be caught and devoured," you whine to your wolves, body trembling with pleasure as lips, teeth, and tongues leave traces over your skin.
"This is nothing," Namjoon all but growls.
You are tempted to say to hell with this party and demand to be taken downstairs, but the familiar click-clack of boots pulls you from your reverie, and you open your eyes to find Jimin approaching. Although he also wears a mask, his lithe dancer frame is unmistakable. He is also shirtless, wearing black leather straps and tight black jeans, and his lips are blood-red and glossy.
Jimin swats Yoongi away, making Yoongi grumble and chuckle, then he pulls you into a hug. You crash into Jimin, leaving Namjoon behind to pout, and wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him close. He smells like midnight in the center of the ocean under a blanket of shimmering stars, and you hold in tears, still so grateful that he is okay. Although you refuse to cry, you do sniffle, and it is enough to make Jimin push you with both hands against your shoulders until you are at arm's length, staring at his frown.
"I'm sorry!" you say with a grin at the same time he says, "No fucking crying!"
Two more topless men in wolf masks approach, and you surmise that one must be Hoseok—with his heart-shaped pout, wearing a burgundy harness over his lithe torso—and the other must be Taehyung, as he is taller, broader, and much more tan, flashing a rectangular grin. You wave hello, and the two of them bow their heads. You want physical contact, even from Hoseok, but if he is not as eager to hug you, then you suppose it is best to keep your distance.
Taehyung, however, opens his arms wide, and you welcome his spicy cologne and warm skin. As you pull out of the hug, he holds up a flogger, similar to the one you saw upstairs, only this one has red leather braided through the strips of black, and there are pretty red leather roses adorning the different tails.
"Care for a show?" Namjoon's deep voice comes from your left, causing you to shiver. Fingertips trace up and down your arms, and you almost feel high from his touch.
You nod, turning your head but bumping one of your bone horns into some part of his mask, making him chuckle. Jeongguk opens the cage from the back and slides out, shutting it tight. Then he approaches Taehyung and runs his nails down his torso, along black straps of leather, grinning like a madman.
"Upstairs," Taehyung instructs, and everyone nods.
As you turn, several hands and arms find you. It feels good to be this fawned after and desired, and you find yourself returning back to that silly old thought of staying in Seoul for good. Perhaps you should allow Yoongi to buy you an apartment and hire a security team. But how long would you last before feeling the need to crawl back into his bed permanently?
More people seem to have entered the building in the short time you were at the dance cage, and you fear you may have to twist and tilt to walk through the crowd, but it parts eagerly for the tall, handsome men in wolf masks. Near the entrance, Seokjin remains statue still with his arms folded, and he nods as the group of you walk by, leaving Hoseok, who stops to whisper something into his ear. You notice that Seokjin's wolf mask is much larger than the others, and it has a row of teeth.
"Why is Seokjin in charge?" you ask, but nobody responds, and you turn to make your way back up the stairs.
"Party's over," you hear Taehyung call, "wolves, deer, and birds only."
Some grumbling can be heard as patrons gather their belongings and bow to the men. They shuffle down the stairs, and you catch a lot of cat, dog, and various rodent heads turning toward you, but you think nothing of it. A great deal of planning must have gone into this night, and you wonder whether each mask has been hand-selected by the men or whether each was simply approved by their team. But these are questions for later. As you watch Jeongguk step out of his slacks and approach the wooden x, all other thoughts dissolve.
Hwasa is seated on a cushion on the far end, head tilted and smiling excitedly as Jeongguk lifts his hands and gets strapped in. Even with the mask on, you can see her wide eyes. You feel drawn to her, eager to sit close and breathe her perfume, but the fingertips on your arms and hips belong to two men who command your attention.
Taehyung has squatted before Jeongguk, strapping his ankles to the wood. Once each strap is secure, he scratches his fingernails along Jeongguk's achilles tendons and over his muscular calves, causing Jeongguk to tremble. Then Taehyung stands, takes Jeongguk tightly by the hair in one hand, and slaps his ass hard with the other. The sound cracks out like a lightning strike, and Jeongguk moans loudly. You feel a rush of anticipation and lean against the bodies behind you that touch so eagerly.
"Do you like watching our Jeonggukah get tortured?" Yoongi asks from your right.
You nod and smile, but the answer must be unsatisfactory because a hand firmly grabs your chin. Without being prompted, you say, "Yes, sir," earning you a pleased chuckle.
Taehyung grabs the flogger he had earlier from a small wooden table along the railing overlooking the rest of the club. You glance over the railing and notice a crowd of people below, some watching the dancers but many staring up in this direction. In the distance, you see Jimin standing with his arms crossed, seemingly assessing the patrons, but your gaze continues to notice all the heads turned in this direction.
A chill works down your spine, and you turn back to the scene of Taehyung delicately dancing the tips of the flogger tails along Jeongguk's back. With his arms over his head and his legs spread, creating the shape of an x, his muscles are taut. His ass, in particular, looks like a shiny red apple, and you feel the urge to have a bite.
Taehyung grips Jeongguk's short dark hair and tugs, extending his arm so he can stand far enough away to strike Jeongguk's shoulders with the flogger. Although the strikes are light, Jeongguk's entire body shakes. Gradually, Taehyung works his way down the length of Jeongguk's back, gently whipping his ass and making it jiggle. Then he releases Jeongguk's hair, runs his fingertips along the length of Jeongguk's spine, and strikes him hard.
The crack of leather against skin met with the cry Jeongguk lets out causes your nerves to alite both with desire and fear. You presume that Taehyung would never truly hurt Jeongguk beyond his limit, but as he whips again and again, hard and harder yet, red marks form, and Jeongguk trembles, fists clenched over the leather straps that hold him, and it truly appears as though he is in pain.
Gently, Taehyung strikes Jeongguk, turning the flogger over and over in circles and making the tips of the leather tails kiss his sore skin. Jeongguk trembles and jolts even from the most delicate touches, and you feel the urge to console him.
"Fuck," Jeongguk groans, making you stand somewhat alert.
Fingertips continue to trail over your skin and along the lines of your corset, and you feel a bit guilty for how captivated you are by the man who is not touching you. But the sight of Jeongguk in pleasure and in pain is far too exquisite to ignore.
"Darling," Yoongi says, as if reading your mind. "You should stand in front of him."
"I agree," Namjoon says. "I bet seeing you but not being able to touch you would drive him insane."
You nod and grin, stepping away from your men and approaching the wooden x. There are several feet in between Jeongguk and the wall, so you step around into that dark, empty space. Jeongguk's eyes are closed, so you say, "Hey, baby," feeling your heart flutter as they open wide.
Jeongguk's pupils are blown wide, and sweat drips from his mask. He licks his lips and juts his chin out, but you are too far away to tempt him with a kiss. You watch as he is whipped, soft and soft, and hard and soft, in no particular pattern. Jeongguk looks incredible with his eyes glassy and his mouth hanging limp. When he grimaces in pain, and all his features scrunch up, you feel the urge to reach out and console him.
It is impossible not to imagine the Jeongguk who fucks you so good, especially from all his little sounds. As his face screws up from pain and pleasure, you step closer, eager to touch. But you feel you should get permission first, so you glance around the x, eyes falling to Hwasa, who remains on a cushion, before looking over to Taehyung.
"Sir," you call.
Taehyung whips Jeongguk hard enough to make him squeal, then says, "Yes, doll?"
"May I touch Jeonggukie, please?"
"Of course you may," Taehyung smiles, "especially because you asked so sweetly."
"Thank you, sir," you call as you lift a hand and dance your fingertips along Jeongguk's arm.
Taehyung cracks the flogger against Jeongguk again, earning him a moan, then he says, "You may tease him, but you are not allowed to make him cum."
"Yes, sir," you say again, then disappear behind the x. With your left hand, you reach between the wooden beams, pleased to find Jeongguk's cock is rock hard and leaking.
Jeongguk lets out a moan that is deep and gruff, punctuated by a sob, and you squeeze slow and firm, curious what other delicious noises he can make. You attempt to find a rhythm, squeezing and releasing in the off-beat of Taehyung's whips. Precum wets the thin fabric that covers him, and you twirl the end of your thumb over the tip. You want to drop to your knees and take him into your mouth, but you are eager to obey Taehyung.
The look in Jeongguk's eyes is desperate and something else—something dark and sharp, scary almost. You lick your lips and smile.
"Does it feel good, baby?" you ask.
Jeongguk scoffs, then grimaces. "Feels so good," he says through gritted teeth, grimacing again. "Would feel better with those pretty red lips around it, though."
"Around what?" you ask with an innocent smile, giving him a squeeze.
Jeongguk groans, mutters something unintelligible, then says, "Around my fucking cock, dollface."
You bite your bottom lip, trailing your fingernails over his length. "I would like that," you say.
Abruptly, the whipping stops. It takes Jeongguk a moment to sigh and relax, but his gaze stays sharply on you as if he has plans on pouncing the second his limbs are free.
"Doll," Taehyung calls.
You step back and glance around the x, smiling at Yoongi and Namjoon, who stand together like two proud parents with their arms slung around one another's shoulders and hips. You turn your gaze to Taehyung and say, "Yes, sir."
Taehyung nods to the x and says, "Your turn. Unstrap him and take his place."
You freeze. Certainly, you want to feel what it is like to be flogged, but as you turn to assess Jeongguk, you realize there are beads of blood forming in streaks along his skin.
Taehyung chuckles, and you turn your attention back to him. As if to show you he is sincere, he lifts his mask, and you feel stunned by the beauty of his face covered in sweat and the way the mask pushes his hair up into a spiky halo.
"I will be much more gentle with you. Stoplight system, remember?"
"Yes, sir," you mutter, still too nervous to imagine what it must feel like.
"You will love it, darling," Yoongi says, and when you turn to him, his grin appears particularly wolfish.
You trust these men. With a nod and slow exhale, you turn to Jeongguk and begin to unto the straps around his wrists. Hwasa undoes his left ankle, and you squat to undo his right.
As soon as Jeongguk is free and you are standing, he turns to you, grabs you firmly by the chin, and spin-presses you against the wooden x. Before you can so much as whimper, Jeongguk is roughly kissing you, pressing his body into yours and making you feel his long, hard erection against your tummy.
You moan into his mouth, hands on the wood rather than on him as you attempt to get your bearings and find your footing. Jeongguk releases you, and as you spin to take your place in front of the x, he takes you by the hips from behind, pressing himself against you again. The satin skirt is thin, and the panties beneath are thinner. You can practically feel every line of him, and it drives you wild.
Jeongguk lifts your right hand high over your head and straps your wrist into the leather cuff, then does the same with your left. Hwasa unstraps your left shoe, and you step out of it, thankful that the heel is low enough that your arms are not tugged as you settle and spread your left leg. To your right, Namjoon gets on his knees, unstraps your shoe, and spreads your right leg. You are restrained and close your eyes to take a deep breath as fingers touch and tease you.
"May I?" Taehyung asks as he tugs at the center of your corset. You nod without thinking, knowing that Hwasa is present but feeling too dreamy to worry about her possibly seeing you topless.
Taehyung makes quick work of unclipping your top, then gently peels it off your sweaty skin and tosses it aside, leaving you in just the pasties that cover your nipples and the short skirt.
"This type of play may be very overwhelming for our buttercup at first, so please refrain from touching her sexually unless she asks. Understood?"
The men respond that they understand, and you smile to yourself, grateful that Taehyung is so careful with you.
With a delicate kiss placed at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your back, Taehyung says, "We finally get a chance to play. Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir," you respond automatically, though you are not sure whether you truly are ready.
Taehyung steps back, and when you open your eyes, you find Yoongi standing in front of you with Jeongguk on the left and Namjoon on the right. You feel shy to have such a captive audience and close your eyes.
"Ah, ah," Yoongi says, and you open them again. Of course, he would want you to look at him while Taehyung does…whatever it is he is planning on doing to you.
The tips of the leather flogger touch your skin softly, then tickle along your spine. You grin and giggle, allowing the wave of shivers that follow the lowering of the toy. Then he moves it off your skin, and you take a deep breath.
"You will love it, darling," Yoongi says, reaching with both hands to cover yours, which you open and lie flat against the wood.
The toy very delicately hits your skin, making you jump from anticipation. You laugh, feeling silly for responding so dramatically, and Yoongi smiles fondly. Again, the toy strikes gently, and again and again, in a rhythm.
"Color?" Taehyung calls, and you respond, "Green, sir," automatically.
Taehyung continues to strike, slightly harder but not hard enough to hurt even in the slightest. You are surprised by how soft and gentle the leather can feel against your skin. Eyes on Yoongi, you gasp slightly from the feeling of the leather, anticipating it to begin to hurt at any moment.
"Going to apply a little more strength and speed," Taehyung says, and you nod.
Yoongi smirks.
The strike against your lower shoulder blade stings slightly, making you jump. As soon as it settles, you feel eager for more, and when Taehyung asks, "Color?" you all but shout, "Green, sir!"
He strikes again and again, firm enough to sting but no harder than a playful slap. He moves along your back, striking new places. Then he returns to your lower shoulder blade, and when he strikes with the same intensity, the soreness of your skin adds a new layer of pleasure-pain that has your eyes rolling back.
"Oh, she likes that," Yoongi calls.
"Is that so?" Taehyung asks.
You nod, open your eyes, and say, "Yes, sir."
You wish the masks could come off and you could see your men, but there is something so delicious about the way their stares come through the visage of hungry beasts. You truly and finally are prey, caught by the most enticing predators, and you allow yourself to moan and sigh as Taehyung continues to strike and strike, over and over, in new spots and sensitive ones, until your entire back is on fire.
"Want to try a harder strike?" Taehyung asks.
You watch Namjoon's pretty lips smile and say, "Yes, sir."
Taehyung whips you in the center of the back, and you jolt more from the loud crack of the leather than the actual sensation. It takes a split second for the pain to bloom, and when it does, you grin.
"Color?"
"Green, sir."
Again and again, Taehyung whips, alternating harder and softer strikes, working around your back in no particular pattern, always keeping you guessing. You feel lightheaded and eager to be touched, so you open your eyes wide and doe-like and say, "Please."
"Please?" Yoongi asks, hands still firmly holding yours.
"Please kiss me."
Yoongi slides his hands away and steps close in the center of the space. "You are so perfect," he says at the same time Namjoon places his hand over your right one, and Taehyung hits a particularly sore spot.
You tremble and attempt to stand on your toes, but you have nowhere to go.
"Kiss me," you beg as the leather lashings pull you closer to the edge of some agonizing but euphoric precipice, causing your fingernails to scrape against the wood. "Yoongi," you insist, "Please!"
As Yoongi leans in and presses his lips to yours, Taehyung begins to move the flogger in a figure-eight pattern, striking your shoulder blades and dragging the tails downward over your skin. You sink into the pleasure and let your mouth fall open, allowing Yoongi to lick, suck, and nip as he desires. When he steps aside and Namjoon takes his place, you imagine him wrapping you in his strong, warm arms and carrying you off to bed. One deep, pleased groan from Namjoon causes your skin to break out in goosebumps.
You want to be touched by the others and fucked until you can no longer feel your body; there is something so enthralling in the way this kind of pleasure leaves you dizzy and almost floaty. You wonder whether the skin of your back could break open and you would feel only ecstasy as your insides gush to the floor.
As Taehyung's strikes slow to a stop, you feel antsy and begin to tremble. The feeling of the leather restraints makes you want to rip and gnaw until you are free, but you do your best to focus on Namjoon's mouth. That is, until he pulls it away.
You instinctively yank your hands down, but they are bound, and your breath feels caught in your throat. Why are you so anxious all of a sudden? While hands work open your various bindings, your top is wrapped around you and being fastened. Yoongi steps around the wooden x, and you barrel into him, causing whoever is dressing you to falter.
"Darling?" Yoongi asks, concern in his tone as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, cradling your head.
"She may require after care," Taehyung says from behind you. "It's normal. We'll get her some water and see what else she needs."
Part of you hates being talked about as if you have no agency, but you press yourself against Yoongi's warm bare chest and close your eyes, humming with pleasure as he wraps his arms tightly around you. You are neither drunk nor high, yet you feel disconnected from your body and barely tethered. Is flogging supposed to be this emotional?
Namjoon and Jeongguk kiss your forehead, making you smile, and they promise to have a surprise for you before leaving the VIP lounge with Hwasa. Taehyung appears from some dark corner with a jacket and a bottle of water, and he drapes the warm fabric over your shoulders, then opens the water and hands it to you.
"Sometimes this kind of play can become physically and emotionally confusing," Taehyung explains as you slowly pull a shaking arm from around Yoongi and take the cold bottle from Taehyung's hand. You sip slow, closing your eyes as the water cools you down and grounds you. "Pushing your body to its limits can cause a person to feel an emotional crash."
You are somewhat familiar with the feeling, having floated out of your body during sex and feeling somewhat of a crash after. You suppose this does feel similar.
"Thank you," you say, handing the water to Yoongi.
You pivot and crash into Taehyung's warm, sweaty chest, causing the jacket to slip off and make you shiver. Taehyung wraps you in his arms and holds you tight, and you let go of all the confusing feelings, breathing as he breathes.
"More drinks?" He offers as the hug begins to loosen, and you nod. "Yes, please."
You do not feel entirely returned to normal, but not that your body has had a chance to calm down, you feel less on the brink of total collapse.
"Mind if I have a moment with her first?" Yoongi asks.
Taehyung bows at the hips and excuses himself, draping his pretty rose flogger over his shoulder as he walks down the stairs. Yoongi pulls his mask up until it sits high on his head, and you swoon at the sight of his sweat-dewy skin and wide, pretty smile. You lift your mask, as well, and step forward, reaching for the belt loops of his slacks and tugging him close.
"You guys always find new ways of making me feel completely insane," you joke as you stand high on your toes and press your lips to his.
Yoongi wraps one arm low around your hips and the other high around your shoulders, cradling your head as he kisses you slow and deep, tugging on the already loose threads of what remains of your sanity. Your tongues dance and tease, and you wrap your arms around his hips and squeeze his ass in both palms, winning you a grin and a chuckle. If only this could be all yours again. This, without all the other baggage that comes along with him.
"Stay with me tonight?" Yoongi asks, and you feel the cracks in your heart begin to splinter a little further.
"Yoongi," you begin, but he steals your lips once more, this time in a delicate press. Perhaps he does not want to hear what you have to say.
He rests his forehead against yours and sighs, then says, "Alright. Shoes, then drinks?"
You nod and step away, to where the heels have been left on each side of the wooden x. Yoongi steadies you with a hand on your elbow as you slide into each shoe, then he gets down on his knees and clasps them. As he stands, he silently watches you, eyes assessing yours, back and forth as if attempting to decode your thoughts. And then he slides his mask back down over his eyes, runs a hand through his hair, and reaches out a hand. You slide your mask back into place and take his hand, allowing him to lead you back down the stairs.
The music has become a bit sharp and chaotic, and the floor is full of writhing bodies. All the dancers wear rabbit masks, on the stages and in the cages, and you crane your neck to see anonymous wealthy patrons throwing notes at them all as if on command.
"Whiskey?" Yoongi asks, and you snicker because he always asks despite the answer always being yes.
"Of course," you respond, giving his hand a squeeze.
Around you, patrons turn and watch the two of you. Yoongi holds his head high, and you watch as the light shimmers off the diamonds around his neck. The way his hair waves and fans out around the mask only adds to a primal energy that is palpable in his every move. You lift the hand that wears your engagement ring and rub over Yoongi's bicep as a show that you are his and pretend not to notice all the prying eyes. It feels good suddenly to imagine all of these people know who he is, and they see you with him. You feel a surge of power.
Yoongi holds up two fingers, and a tender—who was in the middle of mixing drinks for another party—nods and turns, grabbing the special Japanese whiskey off the high shelf, pouring two very generous portions, and sliding them forward. Yoongi grabs one and hands it to you, then takes the other and holds it up to you for a cheers. You tap your glass against his and pull it to your lips, taking in the scent of woody caramel notes and having a taste of the familiar liquor.
The two of you drink and people-watch. There are couples and groups all over the space kissing and groping. On the corner of the bar, you watch as a man with a suit, Rolex, and dog mask uses a rolled-up note to snort powder from a music box that is held open by a bartender, and you feel antsy for a sniff.
Taehyung approaches from a dark corner with his arm draped over Hoseok's shoulder, and you watch him whisper something into Hoseok's ear before dropping his arm so Hoseok can leave. Following Hoseok's departure past you and toward the entrance, you spin and watch as Hoseok whispers in Seokjin's ear, and Seokjin gives a curt nod before walking toward the office.
"Successful party," Taehyung says, and you twist back to find him leaning against the bar and wagging a single finger at a bartender.
"Is it always this busy?" you ask, and Taehyung shakes his head while Yoongi chuckles.
Leaning close, Yoongi says into your ear, "Many of the politician dogs you see are scared to be caught dead partaking in a mafia party and enjoying our drugs and liquor. But with the addition of the masks, they feel comfortable with letting loose and flaunting their wealth."
Your eyes find the man with the Rolex again and wonder what his position in office must be and whether he is part of a chaebol family. Taehyung lifts his glass, and you and Yoongi tap yours against his before you all take a drink.
"Jeonggukie evidently has a surprise for you," Taehyung says as he drapes an arm over Yoongi's shoulder and leans close. "But he has gotten a little sidetracked, so I have been tasked with distracting you."
And distract you, he does. Taehyung orders the finest box of cocaine and several rounds of shots. He regales you with the story of the first time he flogged Jeongguk and how he cried like a baby after, truly reaching subspace for the first time. You snort unabashedly from a music box with a tiny spinning ballerina who also wears a wolf mask. By the time Taehyung receives a signal that Jeongguk is ready for you, the three of you are stumbling and laughing.
However, the mood switches as he leads you past the empty office and all the private dance rooms, to the door at the end of the hallway. Hidden in the shadows every several feet are security guards, and you jump the first time you see one, then scold yourself for being so on edge. Perhaps it is the idea of going downstairs, but you are filled with trepidation. You have been enjoying this night overall, and you would certainly like to have sex with Yoongi and Namjoon later on, but you are not sure whether you are eager to receive a surprise down in the suites, despite how you felt when you first arrived and saw Jeongguk dancing in the cage.
At the top of the steps, you mutter, "Ugh, more steps," regretting your footwear choice and wondering if perhaps your sore feet are the true source of your discomfort.
Taehyung hands his drink to Yoongi, then takes your glass from your fingers and hands it over for Yoongi to cradle precariously, and then hoists you over his shoulders. You squeal and laugh as you attempt to get into a comfortable position and not fling the both of you down the stairs. Taehyung takes his drink back, has a sip, and carries you down to the bottom level.
Yoongi follows the two of you, carrying both of your drinks in one upturned hand with an amused smile. At the bottom of the stairs, you expect Taehyung to set you down, and you laugh as he continues to carry you all the way, dramatically kicking your feet and pretending to beat on his shoulders while crying, "Unhand me, you brute!"
When Taehyung sets you back down, holding his arms out to allow you to get steady—with his drink still in hand—you gain your bearings, dizzy but delighted until you remember that you are in the basement just outside the executive suite and feeling not entirely sure you want to participate in whatever is waiting inside.
"Wait," you say as Taehyung reaches to unlock the door.
"What is it?" Yoongi asks, and you stare at the floor, attempting to gather your thoughts.
"I just…" you swallow thickly. "I don't know. Maybe this isn't what I want."
Perhaps it is from being recognized as Kaori while working at Serendipity, but this entire vibe is dredging up old, bad memories. You know that these men do not view you as a piece of flesh to pass around and sink their teeth into, but you cannot help the way your skin crawls from the thought of it.
"Would you at least like to see the surprise first?" Taehyung asks.
You nibble on your lip.
"Namjoon is in there, too," Yoongi says.
You exhale and nod, excited to see Namjoon. Yoongi hands your drink back as Taehyung keys in the code to the room. Nervous, you chug back the remnants of your whiskey, feeling it rush to your head.
As the door opens, music comes pouring out, much more sensual than the music that plays in the hallway and upstairs. The light is dim and purple, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. Heavy-blinking, you make out the shapes of Namjoon and Jeongguk standing beside the bed, still topless with their harnesses and masks on. On the bed, laid back with one leg bent and supporting herself on her elbows, is Hwasa without her mask on. Her leather skirt is hiked high on her thighs, and you can see a hint of lace underneath.
You hesitate as Yoongi presses firmly against the small of your back, forcing you to step forward. To be fair, it is not wise to keep the door to this room open, despite the security guards that are littered in the shadows all throughout the hallways. You would hate for even them to be audience to what is in this room.
Hwasa sits forward, gets onto her hands and knees, and crawls to the end of the bed. In the periphery, you are aware of Yoongi and Taehyung moving deeper into the room, to the left, where the other two are, but you are too stunned to take your eyes off Hwasa. As she advances, your hands begin to tremble. Is she your surprise? Have they all been discussing this behind your back?
You reach to undo the ribbon of your mask, letting it drop from your face. Hwasa catches it and sets it aside, then takes your face in both palms as she sits high on her knees and pulls you close.
"Kiss me?" Hwasa asks, and you comply.
Slowly, tentatively, you lean forward and press your lips to hers. Her lipstick has a somewhat waxy flavor, but you ignore it, sighing as she nips at your lips and then uses her tongue to prod them apart. With a smile, she teases your tongue and then deepens the kiss, but all you can do is stand stiff as a board.
Hwasa is absolutely the ideal woman, and you have dreamt about kissing her—as well as doing so much more—pretty much since the moment you met her. But as she trails her kiss down to your jaw and neck, all you can think about is how this is not what you want right now.
"I'm sorry," you plead, feeling your knees give out. You lower to the bed and then to the floor and place your palms down onto the carpet. "I'm sorry," you say again as you bow your head forward against the side of the mattress and sink into a slouch.
Everything feels too heavy, and this is not how you want any of this to happen. Not when you are in a constant state of inner turmoil. You already use Hwasa for comfort on the dark and lonely nights, and adding sex to that equation is not fair to her or to anyone. The last thing you want to do is use her even more than you already are when your heart is already here in Seoul, and you do not think finding a distraction in someone else is fair to your men despite the fact that they have each other.
"It's not you," you mutter, feeling hands tug on your shoulders and attempt to yank you up. "Trust me, I want to," you lift your head, finding Hwasa sitting on the end of the bed with her feet planted on the floor. She leans forward and takes your cheeks in her palms.
"Dove, it's okay," she insists.
You attempt to shake your head, but all you achieve is squishing your cheeks against Hwasa's palms, making her crack a smile.
"Please, don't apologize," she insists. "I could never be offended. You're going through a lot right now, and the boys and I thought this might be a good thing for you. But you know yourself better than we do and I am not hurt by your answer."
You hobble onto your knees and lean forward, wrapping your arms around Hsawa's middle and nuzzling awkwardly between her legs. If these circumstances were even slightly different, you would sink into her in a heartbeat and allow absolutely anything to happen.
Tears fall, and you cannot help but sob and cry. All you want is to stay in Seoul, but you are terrified of what new horrors these men might bring, and it is tearing you apart inside. This woman has done so much for you, but you cannot bring yourself to do this for her.
"I'm sorry," you say again, intending for it to be aimed at everyone in the room. "This is all too much and…I think I need to go."
"We can go home," Hwasa insists, and you nod.
Looking up, all of the men have removed their masks. It dawns on you that this is the first time in weeks you are seeing Namjoon's entire face, and you want to kiss it so badly and rub your hands over his cute, fuzzy buzzcut, and forget about all your worries. But you ache with the thought of having to leave him, and somehow running to him and expressing all the love you feel for him seems cruel.
As you stand, Namjoon and Yoongi slowly approach. You drop your face into your hands and cry, feeling too ashamed to face them. Jeongguk has put together such an amazing event, and rather than enjoy it, he is down here wasting his time with a crybaby who teased him but did nothing more.
Arms wrap around you, and you drop your hands, allowing the muscular chests of your two favorite men to cage you in close to suffocation. They pet your hair and shoulders, placing kisses against your temples, and you do your best to steady your breathing.
"I'm sorry," you say again, and Yoongi shushes you.
He takes a step back until you can look at him and smiles sadly. "Sorry we are being overwhelming again," he says, thumbing your tears away.
"Not overwhelming," you insist, leaning sideways into Namjoon.
"I'm sorry we put you into a position you're not comfortable with," Namjoon says, rubbing a palm over your back.
You shake your head. "This was a wonderful surprise, and I would absolutely be interested if circumstances were different. But it doesn't feel right. Not right now."
Namjoon takes a step back, and you notice the way he looks at your face, then at the earrings he bought you, and smiles. You step forward and press your lips to his, then step to the right and kiss Yoongi.
Your body wants more, but you feel exhausted, so you take a step back, nod, and say, "I'm ready to go."
Hwasa hugs Jeongguk goodbye and waves to the others, bowing and thanking them for a good night. As you stand in front of Yoongi and Namjoon, on the brink of asking them to take you back home instead, you bite your inner lip and keep your mouth shut. Yoongi has been saying something big is in the works, so perhaps whatever he is doing now will allow you to feel safe returning to Seoul. Perhaps it will all happen sooner than you realize.
"I love you," you say as you allow both men to kiss you chastely one last time, holding back tears each time they say they love you too.
"Soon," Yoongi promises, and you nod.
"Next weekend?" He asks, hopeful.
You nod again.
Hwasa takes you by the hand and begins to lead you away. With the door open and the music blaring in, the shift in lighting and your warring thoughts knock you off your axis. All this time, the obvious has been screaming at you from all sides, and you have been desperately trying to find a change of scenery in the wrong places. And now, you are making a mistake, knowing full well that the pull toward Yoongi and Namjoon is too strong to continue to ignore.
"Wait," you mutter as you slide your hand from her grip and say, "I'm sorry, Hyejin," before turning toward your men.
You feel foolish for asking, knowing the emotional roller coaster you have been putting these men through, but the ache has been festering inside you for far too long, wrapping itself like barbed wire around your heart and lungs.
Glancing forward meekly, your voice comes out barely above a whisper.
"Can I come back home?"
*
hey there, where you runnin'?
you're only days from the mouth of this cage (cage)
hey, where are you going?
i've searched around this place and it's dead
🎵 visit the playlist
***
BESTIEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!!!!! 💜💜💜 HI HI HI I HAVE MISSED YOU SO!!!!!!! HAPPY DAY OF YOONGI'S RETURN FROM THE MILITARY LMAO I WAS NOT PLANNING ON THIS BUT IT WORKED OUT CUTELY!!!
some housekeeping: it should go without saying, but the way Taehyung strikes Jeongguk with the flogger is not correct bdsm practice! Taehyung and Jeongguk are midkey psychotic. the way he strikes mc is correct. please play safely and don't take bdsm practice from fanfic even when it is written by a long time practitioner (me) because it is sometimes intentionally written to be harmful. 💜
5 more chapters. despite having been writing this fic for three (3?!!??!?!?!!!?) years, it feels wild to be coming up to the end. how are we feeling??? so much has happened since my last update, for worse and for better, and i am truly grateful for your patience. if you have stuck around and still read this fic, i cannot thank you enough.
i always promise big things when i have a break between semesters so this time i am going to keep my fucken mouth shut!!! lmao. hopefully i will see you sooner than later.
REBLOGS ARE EVERYTHING ON THIS SITE BLAH BLAH LIKES ARE ALSO GREAT YADDA YADDA. COMMENTS & DMS ARE WHAT TRULY TELL ME YOU ARE READING AND WANT MORE. BUT IF YOU ARE SILENT, YOU ARE ALSO AMAZING. keeping in touch will absolutely push me to write more/faster, but don't feel obligated to do what you don't want to. 💜 drink water. i love you.
😘😘😘
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Collateral is copyright 2022-2025 theharrowing, all rights reserved. no translations of reposts allowed.
Seokjin is the eldest, the hyung. It’s a responsibility that he takes very seriously when it comes to his comrades. He tells himself he should always set the example, take the lead but never once did the position ever feel too heavy for his broad shoulders.
Not until Jin had to sit there and watch Hoseok and Yoongi shared a lover so openly it gave him heartburn. His first thought was that they had coerced you, somehow manipulated you with sweet words and empty promises to get you to agree to this ridiculous arrangement. He set his mind to have a good long talk with you the next time Hoseok or Yoongi brought you over to the house. He caught himself from venting to Namjoon because this little bit of information had been confidential between the three of them; they weren’t ready to share with the others yet.
So he waited patiently until one evening when you finally came, walking almost hidden behind Hoseok and ushered in from behind by Yoongi, a literal sandwich of lovers shuffling through the front door. The others had been out of the house but not Jin, silently holed up in his room until he heard them enter. Like teenagers, Seokjin had thought as he announced his presence by loudly coming down the wooden stairs. He acted surprised at the sight of you.
“Seokjin,” you breathed out nervously, subtly shrugging off Yoongi’s hand from your waist.
Jin flashed you a cheeky smile. “I hope you three are not planning anything indecent in the house while the others are gone,” he said, watching your face turn red as your eyes went wide with panic.
“He knows,” Yoongi whispered in your ear. “It’s alright.”
“Wh-what?” you stammered. Jin’s eyebrows raised. Did they not tell you? Should’ve he said nothing? He didn’t mean to put you in the spotlight. As much as he thought Hoseok and Yoongi were being stupid and reckless, he didn’t hold it against you. They should’ve known better than to play with a lady’s heart, much less with a beautiful one like yours.
Jin paused his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t wrong. You were beautiful, he’d give Hoseok and Yoongi that. Which makes even less sense that Hoseok would even dream about sharing you. If it was him, he’s keep you locked up in his room for only his eyes to-
There it was again. To be honest, he’s never seen anyone with your type of beauty before, the kind that seemed to be haunting the more he looked; calling out to him like intrusive whispers in his ears. He’s met countless women that would’ve been a sea of roses compared to your quiet daisy-like charm, had had his pick and courted a few of them even, and yet you, the one Hoseok had claimed first…
As Hoseok, Yoongi and you engaged in a furious bout of whispering, Jin distracted himself by getting a drink, his movements deliberate and slow to give them some space. It wasn’t his first time seeing you and yet this time he needed to get his thoughts in order. They were all over the place and Seokjin was a tidy man. Still is.
When the furious under-breaths talk finally subsided, Jin turned around, feigning nonchalance as he put his plans into motion. “So,” he said, looking at the three of them. “I don’t know what your plans were but Yoongi, aren’t you supposed to be joining Jungkook at that timber council?”
He watched as Yoongi’s eyes grew wide in alarm. It doesn’t take him long to disappear out the door again in a cloud of dust, mumbling curses as he went. Now how does he get rid of Hoseok? But that problem solved itself, much to Jin’s relief.
“Shit,” Hoseok cursed. “I promised Taehyung I’d help him at the shop.”
“Today?” you frowned in concern. “But isn’t that tomorrow?”
“The same day as Kook’s timber council, that’s how I remembered it,” replied Hoseok as he gathered up his things. “Sorry, love.” He planted a soft kiss on your temple. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
The silence that followed was awkward to say the least, as you shuffled from one foot to the next, contemplating on what to do. “I guess I’ll go, too,” you murmured without looking at the oldest brother.
“Why? Stay. Let me get to know you better. Since you’re dating my brother. Ss.” Jin offered with a smile. “Come. Sit. I’ll make you a cup of tea. Do you like whiskey in it?”
“Pardon?”
Jin laughed. “I jest. Don’t worry, no whiskey for you, little one.”
“I can drink,” you retorted and Jin noticed the pout on your lips, the pout that he’ll grow to love one day. You joined him to watch what he made. He moved around the kitchen almost fluidly, flitting from the cabinet to grab one thing and then coming back to add them into the tall jar of dark brown liquid. Tea, you supposed, but couldn't be sure because of the smell from the whiskey bottle that was opened next to it.
Jin took out two mugs and poured out the tea. He handed one to you but not without noticing the way you glanced at the opened bottle of whiskey briefly before taking a small sip, smacking your lips to taste it. Jin smirked behind the rim of his own mug. “Come, come,” he called, leading you to the back of the house. “Walk with me, little one.”
You tried but Jin’s legs were longer. Every one of his strides equal to two quick steps of yours as you desperately prevented the tea from sloshing too aggressively against the side of the mug. When he finally stopped, you’re standing a few feet away from a small creek that seemed to be coming out of the woods and running across the land towards the direction of town.
“Can you swim?”
Jin watched as your eyebrows arched in surprise at his random question. “Yes,” you replied but it sounded more like a question. The look on your face tickled him so he asked, “Would you like to? Right now?”
It took you five whole seconds (Jin counted) to finally gasp out, “No!”
Jin laughed, one hand on his side. Again, your answer had a rising tone at the end and it amused him. It was like you weren’t even sure of your own answer even if the look on your face told him that you think he’d lost his marbles. It’s the middle of fall and although it was a sunny warm day, the wind still had a nipping chill to it everytime it blew through your hair.
“Calm down,” said Jin with a smile. “I’m jesting.”
“You jest a lot, sir,” you said with a pout, eyes glancing back towards the water. For a brief moment, Jin thought he saw a twinkle in your eyes, like the thought of actually going into the water did cross your mind and it made him curious. Curious about you. Curious for you.
Jin approached you, standing side by side close enough that your skirt brushed his fingers every time it fluttered in the wind. The fabric was soft and Jin found himself wondering if your skin would be softer. For a brief moment, an emotion he didn’t recognise flared inside his chest; hot and red at the thought of Hoseok and Yoongi being able to freely hold your hand if they wanted to. He fisted his fingers, nails digging into his palm as he smiled at you, a smile that made you blush and turn away instantly, heart fluttering.
Jin looked back towards the water at his feet. A question formed in his head and he opened his mouth to ask you, hesitating only once, thinking it might be cruel. But his curiosity got the better of him. “If Hoseok and Yoongi were drowning,” he said, arranging his words carefully, “which one would you save first?”
You slowly turned to look at him, your face a mixture of surprise and confused at the sudden yet morbid question. You studied his face but Jin didn’t give anything away as he waited for your answer.
“That’s like asking who I love more, my mother or father,” you said quietly. Jin shrugged his shoulders. “But I have neither,” you continued. “So…”
Jin looked back at you, waiting.
“Which one would you save first?”
Slightly taken aback, Jin retorted with a laugh, “Whoever was closest to me, of course.” He laughed a little more before the question mulled around in his head. “But honestly, I don’t know. I want to save them both.” He scoffed at himself. “That was a stupid question.”
A long quietness descended between you and Jin as you both entertained your own private thoughts, the tea growing cold in between your palms. Jin thought of turning back around, back to the house so they can move away from this awkwardness. Just as he worked up the determination to invite you back to the house, you speak, your voice so low Jin almost missed it.
“I’d die along with them.”
You take a deep breath.
“We’d all have died. If I can only save one, half of me would’ve died with him and what kind of life would that be?” Your forehead furrowed ever so slightly. “And neither of them would live if the other died. Not truly. Thus, no one will have survived.”
Jin stared at you, unblinking. Then nodded his head sombrely. He understood it clearly so he didn't bother to say anything more.
Unbeknownst to him, and as dark as it was, that was the moment he fell; the moment his fate was sealed to a kindred spirit, forever to be intertwined with yours; seven souls growing like grape vines around an arbour that is you. And if he knew then, he’d reckon he’ll be okay with it. There would be nothing else Jin would live and die for.
~~~
“Would you take a bullet for me?”
Nick guffawed out loud at the question, moving away from me to the other end of the couch. The movie on the TV was paused. “Hell nah! That’s crazy!”
I rolled my eyes at his dramatics but it slightly stung anyway. “It’s just a hypothetical question.”
“You’re chronically online, babe,” he said, getting up to get another beer from the fridge. “So influenced by all those fake relationships you see on there. You need to get a hobby.”
“I have a hobby,” I murmured under my breath.
“Like, I don’t know, learning how to cook?” he continued, not listening.
“What’s wrong with my cooking?” I snapped, standing up to face him.
Nick shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I’m tired of eating pasta on Fridays.”
“Pasta Fridays was your idea, Nick,” I countered.
Again, he shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe you should learn how to make that meanass lasagna Rosie makes all the time.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, Rosie makes it all the time?”
Nick groaned, rolling his eyes now. “See, you’re always focusing on all the wrong things.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m going out. It’s suffocating here.”
The door slammed behind him and in my seething rage, there was one thing I agreed with him: it was getting suffocating here.
***
Heavy. So heavy but I willed my arm to drag Jin out of the water.
My arms and chest burn but the pain is barely noticed as adrenaline propels me, teeth grinding against each other so hard my jaw is numb. Or is it the frigid water? It feels like I’m fighting against a bag of rocks that only wants to pull me back down to the bottom of the muddy pond. The shore feels like a welcome home once my feet can finally find footing, now able to pull Jin out of the water from under his armpits. Being on land, his full weight seems to have doubled than when we were in the water.
Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.
Oh, God, please.
I lose my footing and fall on my back, Jin’s head against my stomach. I scramble back to my feet, putting his head gently on the ground and kneel next to him. His dark hair is plastered lifelessly against his forehead, his usually plump lips blue and his face pale. His chest isn’t moving.
Nononononononononono.
Oh, god, please no.
CPR. I’ve taken the class. I should know how to do this. But I can’t remember. What’s the first step? Fuck!
Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.
Okay. Calm down. I can do this. Chest compressions. Rescue breaths. Okay. I can do this. Oh my god, he’s so cold. Is it too late to even try? I pressed my palm against his chest at the right location and that’s when it hit me, the reality of the situation. The once strong chest is now laying rigid under my fingers. It’s not right.
Okay, chest compressions.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5…17, 18, 19, 20, 21…28, 29, 30.
Pinch nose, tilt head, breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Repeat.
11, 12, 13, 14, 15…25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30.
Pinch nose, tilt head, breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Nothing.
Please, wake up. Please.
6, 7, 8, 9, 10…17, 18, 19…29, 30.
Breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Nothing.
I scream my throat raw, vision blurry from the tears pooling in my eyes. Desperation turns into frustration, pressing against his chest so hard my shoulders are turning stiff. It angers me even more to think that I have to follow the rhythm of that stupid song to keep it at the right pace. Stupid song. Stupid Jinnie.
Another scream of frustration escapes my lips, calling out his name. I don’t know when I started but the crying feels more hysterical now, the tightness in my chest like a cord is wrapped around my heart squeezing it like a vice. Every breath I take feels like a betrayal towards Jin lying there motionless; the air grates against my windpipe, my lungs unable to properly carry out the oxygen to blood process. Every fibre of my being is in anguish, the pain so physical I feel like an invisible hand is pulling me apart bit by bit.
“I’d die. I’d choose death.”
That’s right. If I can’t save Jin then death will be the only solace.
My hands cease compressing his heart, slowing down as the burning in my muscles intensify. The world seems to be coming to a halt, too, spinning slower and slower at a slight tilt. I can hear my own heart in my ears, the slow thump, thump, thump, as I slump forward to rest my head on Jin’s cold, unmoving chest. His shoulders, once so wide and strong, now look deflated and hunched in the absence of life. Jin. My Seokjin. Seokjin.
Kim Seokjin.
That’s right. That’s his name. Why now am I remembering that? What use is his name now?
Kim Seokjin.
I trace my fingers along his jawline. His beautiful face looks peaceful, that perpetual slight frown that he seemed to always have on his face like he’s always worried is gone. He looks young, no more than thirty, perhaps. I scoot up closer to his face, taking my time to take in every detail of his features - his eyelashes, the three moles on his cheek, his luscious lips - like it was my last time, saving them away into my long-term memory so as to not forget him.
Again.
That’s right. I don’t want to forget him again.
“Seokjin, please. Don’t make me forget you again.”
~~~
Karma watches you through the leaves, the blackness of his fur camouflages well in the shadows, keeping him hidden for as long as he needs to be.
He had watched you drag Seokjin out of the water. He watched you pummelled against his chest to get his heart to beat again. He kept himself hidden as you screamed and sobbed against Seokjin’s lifeless body. He bided his time. He needed to see.
His twin tails swish curiously, carefully missing the trees around him to avoid making any sounds. His bicoloured eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he watches you lean over Seokjin’s face, close enough that your noses are touching. This is it, he thinks. His whole body tenses, waiting for till the last second as your lips connect with his.
Karma jumps out of his hiding place and slithers up close to your side, nudging you lightly. You ignore him, tears streaming down your face, switching between pleading under your breath and saying goodbye.
It’s my turn.
~~~
“Mreoow.”
Startled, I look up, coming face to face with Karma’s blue-yellow orbs staring intently straight into my eyes.
He nudges against my arm, soft and gentle, once again looking up to look at me. He glances towards Jin once and his eyes glow brighter. Huh?
Karma lets out another meow, softer this time. I can hear him purring like a little engine, eyes transfixed on Jin’s face. I finally sit up, hesitantly moving away but never not touching Jin. I can’t bear to be away from him.
I watch as Karma jumps atop Jin’s chest, his paws kneading against the shirt and the first thought I have is that Jin would have been complaining about cat hair if he was awake.
Karma purrs louder and it’s an odd thing to say but it feels like the sound is vibrating in my chest. With every passing second, he only becomes louder so much that I’m starting to think it’s all around us, buzzing in the wind. The trees around sway, leaves rustling noisily to combine with that vibrating buzzing sound. Everything is shimmering and the earth seems to rattle beneath me.
Fear struck my heart and I’m in between panicking to run but not wanting to leave Jin lying there alone with that strange cat I had called my own. Karma’s twin tails are sticking straight up, entwined around each other. There’s electric static thick around Karma, like if I reach out my hand to touch him I might get electrocuted so I remain still, my heart in my throat. The hum gets louder and this time it’s for sure not that of a cat’s.
And then Jin’s eyelids flutter.
~~~
“What does it mean?” You waved your hand at the Anam Cara symbol Jin was carving into the wood. His wine-stained lips reminded you he was on the verge of drunkenness.
“It means I love you.”
“Really?”
Jin turned to look at you. He wasn’t smiling but the gaze in his eyes was intense. “I love you.”
You stared at him, licking your lips.
“I said I love you.” Jin leaned in closer, his breath tickling your cheeks. He watched your throat bobbed but you didn't move away. He eyed your slightly parted lips, an invitation he’s accepting gladly.
He closed the gap, lips brushing yours. “I love you,” he whispered one last time.
***
“Seokjin?”
It’s dusk, the sky above him tinged red. It takes awhile for his vision to adjust and when it finally does, the first thing he sees is a pair of red, brimming eyes.
“Seokjin?” you call out again, your voice cracking.
He blinks a few times and tries to get up but the weight on his chest stops him from doing so. He strains to look down and is met with the cat’s wet nose. He gags, clamouring to sit up and throwing the cat off. Neither you nor Jin paid any attention as Karma scampers off into the forest as you tackle Jin straight back down to the ground, wailing.
Flabbergasted, Jin lay there staring up at the sky that’s growing darker. He can see a lone star already peeking out and he rummages through his brain trying to remember why you’re so distraught, hands already wrapped around your cold body.
Wait a minute. You’re wet. He looks down but only sees the top of your soaked hair. He’s wet, too. Drenched.
“What happened?”
You pause, sitting up and looking at him first in confusion and then your forehead dips into a frown. The softness in your eyes remains but your face crumples once again. But this time in anger.
“You died, that’s what happened! How could you do that to me?!”
A bewildered Jin sits frozen in place as you thump your fists against him, screaming the same thing over and over again. “You stupid, stupid old man! Walking into the forest all drunk like that! What were you thinking?! If you want to die so much then I’ll kill you myself!”
Your words start to mix together, incoherent and mostly nonsense to Jin as the rage subsides into tears again but the pounding on his chest never stops and it is starting to hurt a little. His whole body hurts, actually. Jin finally wrestles you, getting ahold of your wrists in one hand and cupping your chin with the other; soft, gentle touches that relent you of your struggling but not the waterworks.
You’re heaving, shoulders moving up and down as you glare at Jin. He isn’t smiling nor is he angry. He understands better than anyone the emotions you’re grappling with because he, too, had once been there. Right here. Right in this same place. The situation had been slowly dawning at him as he recognised his surroundings. How selfish had he been to put you through that; a pain so unbearable it’s a mark on both your soul and his.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs softly. He pulls you closer. “Forgive me.”
You shake your head, wet hair flying into your face.
“Forgive me, little one,” Jin sobs.
Again, you shake your head, more determinedly this time as Jin continues to chant the words, chest aching not from your punches earlier but from the contrition that’s crushing his once-stilled heart. Finally, you straighten your shoulders and look squarely into his eyes.
“No,” you say through shaky breaths. “Not…until you tell me what it means.”
Jin cocks his eyebrows.
“The symbol on the attic door,” you explain. “I-” you take a deep breath. “I remember you carving it in. Maybe…maybe from a previous life.”
Jin’s mouth falls open.
“What does it mean?”
Jin’s mind is still reeling at your revelation of a memory. Maybe it was brief, maybe it was just that specific one but you’re remembering nevertheless, and not just any past lives but that first one, where it all began. He’s also trying to remember what symbol exactly you’re talking about. Then it hits him. You’re alluding him to something.
“The Anam Cara, Jin,” you stress, getting impatient. “What does it mean?”
“I love you,” he breathes out just as he pulls you into him, lips crashing together and it feels like forgiveness as you lean into him to deepen the kiss. He feels your arms wrap tightly around his neck and your legs around his waist and he relishes in this warm, golden feeling, welcoming the love of his life home. Safe, in his arms. Finally, finally.
But not for long.
~~~
“Hyunnnggg!”
“Jin hyunngggg!”
“Hyunngiieeee!”
I look back at Jin, flushing my forehead against his, my fingers in his hair as I hear my name being called out in the distance. Nighttime has finally enveloped us and the wind is starting to bite. I press my lips against his once more, feeling how plush they are, how soft the way Jin kisses me back like I’m delicate. Like he’s holding back. And how warm. Warm, warm lips on warm, warm skin.
“What do we tell them?” whispers Jin, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“That you’re an idiot,” I say wetly through a smile.
Jin scoffs. “Like that’s news to them.”
I laugh.
“There you are!”
We both jump as Jimin suddenly bursts through the trees, a flashlight in one hand. “Hyung!” he cries, making a beeline towards us. “Oh, thank god!”
I barely escaped Jimin’s wrestling hug as I subtly moved aside to make way. He grabs the older man into a tight hug, saying nothing as they embrace. When Jimin finally pulls away, I see the tear track down his cheeks. He gives Jin a once over before noting the wet clothes. He opens his mouth to ask but is cut off by loud rustling noises as another person tumbles into the clearing.
It’s Jungkook, eyes wide and panicky. His eyes lock in on the three of us and it doesn’t take long for him to rush forward and literally pull Jin into his arms. As Jungkook and Jin share a moment, Jimin turns to me.
“You’re wet,” he says, taking off his jacket. He drapes it around my shoulders wordlessly before enfolding me into his arms.
“You idiot!”
I look up in surprise to see Hoseok in the treeline, squinting a little as he shines his light towards us. My surprise quickly turns to fear, cowering into Jimin when his angry gaze falls on me next. “Both of you!” He yells. “Going into the woods like that!”
He marches over towards Jin and pulls him up by his shirt collar so much so that Jin is forced to stand. “I could punch you right now,” he hisses but doesn’t, roughly mandhandling Jin into his arms. “Asshole. Don’t ever do that again.”
It takes another few minutes for the others to arrive, including Mr Chang in the search party. The walk back to the house is a quiet one and I’m so drained of energy that my limbs feel like sandbags, even when carried on Taehyung’s back. My whole body aches like I’ve been hit by a truck and it takes an effort to keep my eyes open for Taehyung’s sake.
We are met by Mrs Oliviera by the edge of the forest, warm blankets in her hands as she drapes one over me and tosses the other to Jin, her face frozen in a disapproving scowl as she immediately fusses over the thin scratches all over my face, neck, arms and legs. She switches from fussing over me to berating Jin, as well as pointing out all the little wounds on him, too, and warning him to take care of them inside. For a mousy housekeeper who doesn't usually talk all that much, it’s only her voice that I can hear as the world is shut out behind my eyelids. And for some reason, it brings me relief.
~~~
Taehyung feels you going limp and he adjusts your position so that you remain secure on his back. It’s not when Yoongi offers to switch that he realises how much his back hurts that he happily obliges. They, too, had trekked the woods in half-blindness the moment they could.
Yoongi carries you in his arms up the stairs as carefully as he can, careful to leash in his anger at not being fast enough, at not being there when it happened. Thankfully, Mrs Oliviera is right at his heels, following him into your room as she instructs him to place you in the bathtub instead of the bed. You groggily open your eyes but Yoongi doesn’t linger long to let Ollie do what needs to be done to get you out of your damp clothes and warm you up. Instead, he goes to the room across the hallway because there’s another person that needs to be taken care of: Seokjin.
He knocks softly once before pushing the door open to reveal the room already cramped with five others. He hears water running in the bathroom and takes his place on the edge of the bed, waiting as the others are. No one says a word. No one looks at each other. No one questions nor makes a move when forty minutes pass and the bathroom door is still closed with Namjoon leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door.
Once, Yoongi thought he heard sobbing from inside the bathroom but neither him nor the others even lifted their heads. They let him be, giving the space he needs but remaining close enough in case they need to act fast. Yoongi is not worried about Jin doing anything drastic while he’s alone in there; that’s not why they’re here. They’re here because they couldn’t be before, earlier in the day or even back then. It’s compensation, for which he’s not sure.
Yoongi should’ve known better. He should’ve at least made sure Jin was okay while the others fussed over you that day in the past. You had drowned, yes, but Jin had been the only one there, saddled with guilt for all those decades. And this time, if you hadn’t been there for Jin, he can’t even bring himself to imagine what would’ve happened.
You had somewhat briefly recounted the details of what happened before they found you but something nags at the back of Yoongi’s head that you’re not telling the full truth. Jin had fallen into the water, you had jumped right in and pulled him out. You managed to pump his heart back, dislodging the water Jin’s lungs. That’s it.
That’s it? He had asked then but you had nodded tiredly so he didn’t push. He kept quiet even when he had noticed you and Jin exchanging glances.
Something else happened. Something that had given them their physical forms back before they raced each other into the woods. Something else happened in between them turning to ghosts and unable to move away from Solomon’s Manor to slowly materialising back into existence, from between Jin jumping into the water and them finding the two of you in that forsaken place but today, Yoongi knows, won’t be the day they learn about it. He just has to sleep tonight with that unknowingness sitting on his chest. For tonight, at least.
The bathroom door opens and Jin steps out. The bright and cheerful man isn’t there and Jin has a gaunt look on his face. He looks up and tries to smile but it’s sour and Yoongi wishes he’d stop. For the first time in a very long time, Yoongi thought Jin’s shoulders looked too small, too fragile.
“Yah,” Jin calls out in a false happy voice. “Why are you all still here? I’m tired and I want to sleep. Get out.”
They don’t respond. Jin tries again, stumbling forward and trying to shove Jungkook with his foot. “Yah, move. Get out. Please. I’m tired. I want to sleep.” He’s chuckling as he switches to nudge Jimin with his other foot and pushes Hoseok’s shoulder lightly from the bed. “Move, yah!”
Jin sits down in his bed and makes an effort to crawl under the blanket. He tries one more time to shoo Yoongi and Hoseok off the bed but they’re not budging, moving only to let him into the bed before the scoot closer. Jimin approaches him then with the first aid kit, quietly holding Jin in place by the chin as he tends to the scratches on his cheeks and neck while the older man whines and pleads for them to leave, muttering non stop. Yoongi can almost see it; Jin is stretching so thin he’s breaking.
And then he does.
It starts small. A sniffle and a crack in his voice before Jin shrugs off Jimin’s hands and hangs his head in between his knees. The crying is quiet but the shaking and heaving of Jin’s body are a dead giveaway as he wretches. Yoongi reaches out an arm to rub his back, eyes staring at a spot on the carpet. His own eyes are wet.
Jungkook climbs onto the bed to sit close to Jin as Jimin sinks his hand into Jin’s hair, rubbing the back of his head and neck as he presses his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his own eyes. Taehyung comes from the other side and pulls Jin sideways into his chest, holding the eldest close as he rocks from side to side.
The questioning, the scolding can all be put aside for now. Jin is here, Jin is alive. He might not be okay but he’s here with them and Yoongi can deal with that. They can deal with that. Jin is in pieces but they can handle that; they can put him back together, piece by piece. He’s here so they can heal and rebuild. Him or themselves, it doesn’t really matter. They can have a do over. Not today but maybe tomorrow. When Jin is feeling better.
Right now, they hold each other close and they stay together because that’s what Jin needs. What they need. This feeling in Yoongi’s heart is one he’s not familiar with yet nostalgic. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time but it’s coming back to him now. It’s when you’ve unclogged a sink or untangled a cord. It’s when you remember that word that was on the tip of your tongue or when you’ve done that one chore you hate. It’s the feeling of harbouring a longtime crush and finally being able to spill your guts.
It’s overcoming a hurdle and now knowing the worst has passed.
It’s saying I love you after waiting for so long.
It’s the end of an awful storm and the clearing of the skies, Yoongi thinks as he lays his head down on the extra pillow, his hand still on the small of Jin’s back who is now almost quiet in Taehyung’s arms. They never drew the curtain closed for the night as seven bodies piled into the queen-sized bed. How they fit, Yoongi doesn’t know but he does know that it’s going to be okay.
Tomorrow, all will be just fine.
~~~
“This is getting interesting.”
The other white clad figure hums in agreement. “It’s nothing we’ve seen before.”
“You reckon this will be it?”
He takes a short while contemplating his colleague’s question before finally answering, “Who knows.”
a/n: this series has been going on for so long (timewise) that it started before BTS enlistment and now they're coming back and it's still nowhere near finished lol
