#jimin x reader

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Him Coming Home From Military Service

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2025

⤜MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN:

The whole time during Jin's service, you were waiting for him at home, sending him letters and cute supply drops you knew he loved. He even had a few of your hoodies sprayed in your favourite perfume, so he would always smell you near him. To tease him a little, though, you told him you couldn't get the day off work to meet him on base, and he was understanding of it. But here you were.

Standing at the gates holding a handmade sign for him and a bag full of his favorite snacks for the car ride home. A smirk was on your face as you spotted him coming out from the gates, the moment he saw you your heart picked up. A giant grin spread over Jin's face as he launched himself in your direction, dropping his bag before practically wrapping himself around you in a tight bear hug.

"My beautiful angel, I missed you." He sighs, hiding his face in your neck as he buries himself in you. Taking in a deep breath of your scent needing to have it close to him.

"I missed you too, Jinnie." You whisper, relaxing completely against him as he continues to pull you tightly against his chest, you can feel his heart racing against your chest. 

"Let's get home, I want to cuddle and never move from the sofa again." He groans, kissing you all over your face.

YOONGI: 

Yoongi had been "home" all morning but he'd been busy with press releases and interviews he knew he had to get through before he came to meet you but all he wanted to do was get to you and kiss you. He made his way through the crowd after his last interview when he finally saw you. He wanted to act chill and tough but the moment he saw you he felt his tears building and once you hugged him it was all over. Yoongi eventually broke, tears running down his cheeks as he cried against you.

"I've got you, baby," You whisper, rubbing his back softly as he pushes his face into your shoulder. All he wanted was to bury himself under the covers and get lost in you all over again.

"My person. My home." He whispers in relief. You attempted to pull back from him but he clung to you a little longer. 

Yoongi didn't say a lot at first but all of his actions - refusing to let you go, constantly holding your hand, and cuddling to you. As well as slow dancing to playlists he made when he was doing his services - screamed actions of love that he had for you. 

HOSEOK: 

Jhope knew you were unsure if you were going to be able to make it to him coming out from the base but he wasn't angry. Things were chaotic at the minute with people being discharged and the media wanting a piece of him. He'd just finished talking with the media and was going through to a private area of the base to find his family but he saw you. Standing beside his mother talking to one another he felt the tears burning in his eyes,

"jagiya!" He yells as he sprints toward you, you barely have a chance to turn around before you stumble backward, J-hope wrapped himself around you.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," He cries, tears streaming down his face as he holds your face in his hands. As if he was trying to commit all of you to memory and you giggle through the tears.

"I missed you too, sunshine." You whisper before kissing him softly. His sister laughs a little as she looks at the scene in front of her,

"I think he missed you a lot more than he missed us," She teased before Hoseok opened one of his arms to bring her into the group hug.

The whole ride home he refused to let go of your hand, constantly looking at you like he couldn't believe you were real.

NAMJOON:

It was almost four in the morning but you were waiting outside, wrapped in a large coat and holding two hot drinks one for you and one for Namjoon. The man you had been waiting 21 months for this and you knew Namjoon was going to need a warm drink this early in the morning.

You watch as he slowly walks out, his eyes locking with you as he gives you the softest smile, walking over and hugging you closely to him.

"I missed you more than words can say," he says as he kisses your cheek, taking the warm drink from your hands and sighing as he takes a long sip.

"I missed you too, baby, I've planned our day. You're going home, you're going to sleep, and I'll take care of your washing and food." You said as you stroked your thumb over his cheek, you could see just how tired he was and it broke your heart a little. But now he was home and you intended on taking very good care of him.

That night while you were finishing his washing you found a notebook, all the things I want to tell Yn. Was written on the front and it was pages full of all his thoughts, dreams, and things he wanted to do while he was doing his service.

Written on the inside of the book was a list of dates he planned to take you on.

JIMIN:

Jimin finally got home after a day full of interviews and signings that he'd been asked to go to when all he really wanted was to go home to you, the one who had been waiting for him for the last twenty-one months.

As soon as he walked into the house he could smell kimchi stew cooking and the sound of soft music filled the air. He slowly dropped his bag onto the floor and made his way to the kitchen, you were dancing around in an apron to one of his songs making him smirk to himself. Watching you as you cooked for him and sang the lyrics back,

"I've thought about this moment every single day," he chuckles finally bringing you out of your daze, squealing as you threw yourself at him. Crying into his shoulder as he clung to you, not wanting to let go in fear of you suddenly disappearing in front of him.

Later in the night, you fell asleep curled up to him, with him whispering,

"Thank you for waiting for me."

TAEHYUNG:

You were waiting for him, dressed in one of the hoodies he'd sent home for you and holding a bouquet of red roses for him, smiling so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt as you waited for him to get over to you. The area was filled to the brim with loved ones waiting for their person to come home and you just waited patiently for him.

As soon as he reached you he held your face in his hands and smiled so wide you could cry,

"You look like a dream, baby...My dream," he says as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a gold chain with a rose charm on it as he smirks seeing the same red roses in your hands for him.

"I found this when we had a weekend off, I instantly knew I had to get it for you," He says as he carefully adds it around your neck and smiles seeing it sit perfectly against your skin.

JUNGKOOK:

You had expected Jungkook to be busy when he finished his service but he told you he would meet you first if you were going to wait outside of the base. You'd barely gotten there before you heard him screaming your name and watched him sprinting full speed troward you. Running like you were the only person int he world he wanted to see. He hugged you so tightly you were sure it knocked trhe wind right out of you.

"I love you. I love you...F-Fuck, I love you, I missed you so damn much," he cries, holding you tightly against him as you let out a soft laugh, cuddling into him.

"I love you too, baby. I missed you so much more," You say to him as you breathe in his scent, truly missing everything about him.

The whole ride home he couldn't stop staring at you, touching your hands or face like he was afraid you were going to vanish right before him. As you drove he got teary over how much you'd stayed the same, your scent, your smile, the way you said his name, and the way you laughed at something he said.

"I'm finally home, we're together again," He states with a smile.

a/n: just something random I wrote while i was bored

[95rkives]

cw car sex

ᝰ.ᐟ jimin is determined to ruin you in the backseat of his car, but the seatbelt buckle might get to you first.

“Jimin, this is the worst place you’ve ever fucked me.”

You barely get the words out before his next thrust has your head knocking right against the stupid car door. Again. For what feels like the hundredth time.

Jimin doesn’t even slow down. If anything, the complaint just makes him grin, all smug and unbothered as he leans down, breath warm against your cheek. “Mm,” he hums, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up higher around his waist. “I don’t know… I think it’s kind of fun.”

Fun.

Your back is at war with the middle seatbelt buckle, your legs are cramping, and your spine has fully accepted its fate as a sacrifice to the gods of uncomfortable car sex. Meanwhile, Jimin—perfectly comfortable Jimin—is having the absolute time of his life, his hips rolling deep, deliberate, like he has all the time in the world.

“Fun for who?” you huff, shoving at his shoulder. “You’re not the one getting assaulted by a cup holder right now.”

Jimin laughs, the sound all breathy and smug as he kisses along your jaw, nipping just to be annoying. “You’re so dramatic,” he murmurs, voice all honeyed amusement. But he must take some pity on you, because he sighs—real exaggerated like, as if he’s the one suffering—and shifts, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. With hardly any effort, he pulls you up, switching positions until you’re in a straddle across his lap, your knees sinking into the leather on either side of him. “There,” he says, smirking. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

He rocks up, deep and slow and just obnoxiously good, and whatever clever retort you had dies instantly.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and instead of some pretty, breathless moan, what comes out of your mouth is a very undignified—

“Oh, fuck you.”

Jimin laughs, looking way too proud of himself. His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks up again, slow and teasing, like he has all the time in the world. “You are, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “And you’re doing such a good job.”

[writtenwhalien]

aww thanks babe! I’m so glad you liked it 🥹💓 defo more to come! Xoxo

a lover's redemption (pjm) | masterlist

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ in progress

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, all sorts of crime (including: drug and arms trade, embezzlement, mentions of kidnapping and attempted kidnapping), frequent use of guns and knives, gore (non-descriptive), mild injuries to multiple characters including reader, death (descriptive).

teaser

i. prologue

chapter 1. way down we go

chapter 2. before the storm

chapter 3. the new normal

chapter 4. through the cracks

chapter 5. running the same line (coming wed 2nd july)

future chapters to be updated here

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

[jksarchives]

JIMIN

❖ lover to lean on — by @sketchguk

for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other. — 20k [a, f, s]

❖ believe it — by @writtenwhalien

When your car breaks down late at night in your hometown and the door you knock on just happens to belong to the man that was almost yours, it opens the floodgates to memories you had hoped to keep suppressed and those you’ve never forgotten about. — 28.7k [f, a, s]

❖ everybody loves somebody — by @dollfaceksj

In a world where there’s a small chance for you to contract a deadly disease the specific moment you come to the realization that the person closest to your heart will always be out of your reach, you find yourself coughing up blood stained flower petals after your best friend – and fuck buddy – Park Jimin, tells you he’s been seeing someone. — 11.7k [a, s]

❖ blooming days — by @bluekyun

A typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever? — 15.3k [f, a, s]

❖ the very last thing i decide — by @ugh-yoongi

you learn what it means to love with blood on your hands. — 12k [a, s]

❖ heartburn — by @jiminrings

you know it’d happen eventually and you’ve been preparing yourself for the impending hurt — you just don’t want it now. not now when it’s nearing jimin’s little sister’s birthday; not now when you can swear love isn’t the only thing you can put on the table. — series [a]

❖ let’s get quizzical — by @taleasnewastime

Thursday night pub quizzes with your friends are a must. One of those friends being your long-term friend, long-term crush, Park Jimin. At this point 99.9% of the population knows you have feelings towards him, Jimin being the 0.1% that doesn’t. But what happens when a bet goes wrong and your weekly quizzes become more complicated than fun? — 28.6k [a, f, s]

↪︎ MAIN MASTERLIST

↪︎ FIC RECS

[gimmethatagustd]

wanna watch a sex tape | kth, pjm

When Taehyung invited you over to watch a movie, you didn’t think the movie he had in mind would be your sex tape… And you definitely didn’t think his roommate would want to watch, too.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader x Jimin

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: Frenemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut, humor probably, fluff if you squint

Word Count: 6,868

Content Warning: No pronouns/gendered language for MC except "pussy", Namjoon has mono and it's not the album (hahahaaa), homemade pornography, Big Dick Tae, exhibitionism, humiliation kink (but it's like… unintentional? Tae isn't mean or anything), handjob, blowjob, deepthroating, facefucking, crying, anal and vaginal fingering, anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, creampie, subspace, sub!MC, soft!dom Tae, switch!Jimin ig, an insane amount of lube like way too much, they're all arguing with each other the entire time, Tae tries to deepthroat a camcorder

A/N: I watched a lot of porn to figure out how to write this I'm ngl.

Soundtrack: Lil Vada & DonnySolo - UP!

the wannabe-photographer chronicles: part three

“It’s just a movie,” he’d said. “What’s wrong with two friends watching a movie? It’s Netflix and chill in the most literal way, I promise,” he’d insisted. 

So why does Taehyung have pulled up what appears to be a video editing software instead of Netflix? 

You sit with your back against Taehyung’s headboard and your legs tucked beneath you while you watch him place his laptop on the bed in front of you. The moment he presses play, you feel all the blood drain from your body. 

“Kim Taehyung, turn that the fuck off!” you screech. You lunge forward to slap the space bar, effectively pausing the video. “Why? Why why why why why?” 

“You said I could pick the movie,” Taehyung says with a slight pout. 

“This is not a fucking movie!”  

There on the screen, with a fucking sepia filter, is a still of Taehyung’s fingers lodged deep between your thighs. The tendons and veins in his wrist and forearm pop to the surface from the thrusting motion. In the second it took to pause the video, you’d heard your own breathy moans blare from the laptop’s speakers.

This is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you in your entire life. Probably in anyone’s life! You’re living a nightmare. 

“You’re right, it’s not a movie,” Taehyung sighs. He leans back on his palms and lets his head loll to the side as he stares at you blankly, almost as if he’s bored. It’s enraging how hot he looks. “It’s just raw footage. I have a lot of edits to make before I could call it a movie. For starters, I already hate the filter.”

Ears and cheeks aflame with invisible heat, you dig your fingers into the bed’s fluffy comforter to prevent yourself from clawing Taehyung’s eyes out. He’s genuinely insufferable and has been for as long as you’ve known him. 

You don’t know how you keep finding yourself in these unfortunate situations with Taehyung. The first time, he provoked you. How could you have reasonably walked away from him at Hoseok’s party when it was in your own fucking apartment? After he fucked your pussy and took a photo when you came? What were you supposed to have done?! You’d already tried kicking him out. The little shit just wiggled his way under your skin and made you itch. 

The whole striptease thing hadn’t been your fault, either. Hoseok had a whole conversation with you about not “scaring away” his friends as if it’s somehow on you that his friends are all annoying. But you love Hoseok, no matter how difficult he makes your life sometimes, and you told yourself that you would do better to be nice. Helping Taehyung with his college photography assignment seemed like a nice way to hold out an olive branch to the asshole. How could you have known that it would end with, with, with a sex tape?

Because that’s what this is on Taehyung’s laptop. A fucking sex tape. 

You made a sex tape with Kim fucking Taehyung, the most infuriating man on the planet, and now you’re sitting on his bed while he explains his editing software like this is the most normal thing you could be doing on a Friday night. 

“Are you even listening?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. His fingers hover over the trackpad, posed to click on the video’s play button. 

You swat his hand away, and he yelps. 

“Stop it right now,” you snap. “We are not watching this.” 

You’re so embarrassed that your entire body is on fire. The skin at the nape of your neck prickles, and your stomach swoops so severely that you’re afraid you might pass out from how difficult it is to inhale. It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s previous look of irritation has morphed into something slimy and smug. 

Of course, the universe is never on your side. Assuming Taehyung will let this go is nothing more than a pipe dream. 

“You’re that upset about it?” Taehyung isn’t sincere when he asks. 

Using the arrow keys, he fast-forwards through the video. Despite your embarrassment, you can’t take your eyes off the frames as they quickly flash across the screen. Taehyung lingers momentarily on a part of the video that makes the heat in your face travel south. 

Most people look better in real life than in photos, but Taehyung is flawless no matter the circumstance. His sharp, dark eyes stare back at you through the screen. From the angle his head is tilted, his eyes have a narrowed, almost sleepy appearance as he looks through his eyelashes at the camera. You can only see the top half of his face because the lower half is buried between your thighs. 

You straighten your posture and clasp your hands in your lap. Forcing yourself to look away from the laptop is hard, and you hate yourself for being so affected by the image of Taehyung eating you out. It was a fluke. A mistake. Something fueled by lust and some weird desire for you to prove that… what? You could fuck him, and it mean nothing? 

“This is the best part.”

You don’t want to look again, but you do. It isn’t Taehyung’s comment that draws you toward the laptop once more, but another voice. Your own. 

“I liked you better when you were crying and begging for me like a good boy.” 

In the moment, you thought you’d been snappy and clever when you said that line – meant to be an insult more than anything. Listening to it now, you’re ashamed to hear something far more… suggestive to your tone. Had it really been like that? Or are you overanalyzing now?

“I can still be a good boy for you like this…”

Taehyung’s rough, fucked-out voice makes your entire body tense. It was fucking hot when he said it then, and hearing it again only confirms that, yes, it was fucking hot. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin and broken moans flood the room. Watching yourself on video is surreal, a version of you that you wouldn’t otherwise ever know. Most people live their entire lives without knowing what they look like when they’re having sex – not like this. And here you are, watching a version of you fuck yourself on Taehyung’s cock in the very bed you sit on right now. 

“Honestly, I’m offended that you don’t even appreciate how well I edited these shots. They all flow so seamlessly; didn’t you notice?” 

For some reason, the pout Taehyung wears tugs at your heart in a way you wish it wouldn’t. He just looks so genuine. 

“Taehyung,” you speak sternly, hoping you can set the tone for a more serious conversation. Even though your face isn’t in the video, you’re still a little nervous about what Taehyung will do with it. 

Another part of you is very turned on because the video is still playing, and even though you’re looking at Taehyung, you can see the movement out of the corner of your eye. It only gets worse when Taehyung’s moans grow louder. 

“Yeah?” 

Taehyung’s lips part slightly. You watch him run his tongue against the inside of his cheek with your heart hammering in your chest and heat pooling between your legs. Taehyung exhales in real life, the sound soft and shaky, at the exact moment he cums in the video. 

Whatever you were about to say evaporates from your mind like mist in the wind because he sounds so pretty. 

Fucking hell. 

“What?” Taehyung tries again to get an answer from you, but you can’t speak. 

By now, you’re thoroughly wet, to the point that your thighs feel damp from being pressed together. Your underwear is uncomfortable when you shift, and you wish you’d worn more than a pair of baggy basketball shorts. They go well with your cute cropped hoodie and the Nikes you left at Taehyung’s front door. At least they’re black, so there’s no chance your arousal will be seen through your clothes. 

The last thing you need is for Taehyung to know you’re turned on.

“Nothing,” you finally respond, tearing your gaze from his face. 

The new view is worse, though. You immediately look down and see the last frame of the video. Taehyung’s cock rests on your bare ass, cum splattered on your cheeks and lower back, his cock shiny and slick. You breathe in sharply and seal your fate because Taehyung immediately pounces on that tiny detail. 

“I know you liked it,” Taehyung goads, his pout morphing into the classic grin you’ve grown to both hate and love. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

You twist around to face him fully. “Listen here, you little piece of–” 

It’s like deja vu, really, how your eyes fall to look at the bulge in Taehyung’s pants. This time, he’s wearing light grey sweatpants that are a little tight in the crotch, showing a clear outline of his cock resting along his thigh. The fabric at the head of his cock is darker than the rest, a wet spot that has your body throbbing with desire. 

Perhaps from the attention, Taehyung’s cock kicks up, twitching in the confines of his sweats. He lets out a quiet, breathy laugh. 

“I’m listening.” 

Taehyung reaches over to squeeze your knee when you still don’t speak. Slowly, he glides his hand up your thigh. Once he reaches the hem of your shorts, he lifts his gaze from where his hand is hot on your skin to your face. His eyes lock with yours as he slips his hand into the leg of your shorts and continues following the inside of your thigh. 

Despite Taehyung’s body heat, you shiver from his touch as he travels higher and higher. It tickles, but you bite your lip and force yourself to stay still. The only part of you that moves is your chest as you rapidly take shallow breaths. It does nothing to calm you down; if anything, it worsens everything. You’re working yourself up to the point that you’re gushing in your underwear.

Taehyung’s fingers trace along the elastic, and you know he can feel how soaked you are. His gaze weighs heavy on you, eyes dark and lidded. He presses his fingers against your underwear and drags them along your lips, lightly increasing his pressure to massage your clit. 

“Oh,” you let out with a gasp, digging your fingers into the comforter. You automatically open your legs further, allowing Taehyung better access. He continues rubbing your clit through your underwear, his movements too slow and light for your liking. “Taehyung…” 

“Hm?” He’s so fucking smug you want to slap him, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

“Just, fucking, just–” 

Your desperate request for him to just fucking finger you already is cut off by Taehyung’s bedroom door flying open. With an embarrassing scream, you practically leap off Taehyung’s bed. 

“Taehyungieeee! I was supposed to hang out with Namjoon hyung, but he canceled because he got fucking mono. Can you believe? Who gets mono at almost thirty years old? Seriously! I asked him who he’s been making out with, but he–” 

The dark-haired man stops midsentence with his jaw hanging off its hinges. Wide, unsuspecting eyes flit from your look of horror to the outline of Taehyung’s dick in his pants to Taehyung’s hand now resting on your knee. But what’s somehow the most embarrassing thing is that the man’s eyes eventually land on Taehyung’s laptop, where his dick and your ass are still on display. 

“Oh wow.” 

Taehyung lets out a long groan and lets his head roll backward. 

“This is exactly why I tell you to knock before you come in here.” 

“W-what!” The man sputters. “This is my fault?” 

After a moment of staring at the ceiling, Taehyung levels his gaze to stare at the man. “Did you knock?” 

The man looks pained when forced to say, “No…” 

You would rather die than be here right now. You watch the two men begin bickering about proper roommate etiquette because this is apparently Taehyung’s roommate, Jimin, who you didn’t know even existed. A convenient thing to leave out, right? Of course, Taehyung wouldn’t fucking tell you that there’s the possibility that someone might be in the apartment with you. 

“Well, what are you watching?” Jimin walks toward the bed to get a better look at Taehyung’s laptop. “Fuck, that guy’s cock is huge. What’s this on?” 

“Oh my god, Taehyung, make it go away!” You finally hiss, slapping Taehyung in the arm to make him do something.

Taehyung throws his head back in a fit of laughter, which makes you slap him even harder. 

“That’s me.” 

Jimin nearly chokes. “Excuse me?”

The look on Taehyung’s face is a mix of pride and mischief. He’s absolutely glowing, absorbing all the praise, even if it’s accidentally given. 

“That is my cock. And the ass…” Taehyung jabs his thumb in your direction, much to your displeasure. 

“Oh,” Jimin exclaims. “Your ass looks great.” 

“For fuck’s sake, I need to get out of here.” 

“No!” Taehyung reaches for your arm to keep you from getting up. “We haven’t even fully watched it yet.” 

You narrow your eyes and gesture in Jimin’s direction. Even if you wanted to watch the sex tape – which you definitely don’t – you can’t watch it with Taehyung’s roommate hovering over you like this. You don’t even understand why the guy is still here or how he and Taehyung can converse normally while Taehyung’s got a literal erection. 

Boys are so fucking weird. 

“Can I watch, too?” 

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. There’s no way, no fucking way. And yet Taehyung’s already nodding and scooting over for Jimin to sit on the other side of him. 

“I worked so hard on this, and it’s going unappreciated.” Taehyung glares at you. 

Before you can react, Taehyung has restarted the video. His hand migrates from your arm back down to your knee and squeezes lightly, maybe in an attempt to be comforting, but you’re already beginning to die inside from embarrassment. 

It doesn’t help that Jimin is gorgeous. You find yourself admiring him as he watches the video, which Taehyung has now turned on with full volume. Jimin���s eyes are glued to the screen. Occasionally, he makes little comments to praise Taehyung’s editing skills or point out how you and Taehyung have “great chemistry.” But the most intriguing part is when Jimin begins to squirm. 

It’s still early in the video, just after Taehyung starts eating you out, when you notice Jimin’s hand move to rest in his lap. It isn’t subtle how he adjusts his erection in his jeans, but he doesn’t know that you’re staring at him.

There’s something about knowing that this complete stranger is now hard because of watching your porn that rekindles the arousal buzzing inside you. It doesn’t help that Jimin and Taehyung are right; the video is hot. It’s ridiculously hot. 

Distracted, you don’t realize Taehyung’s attention is no longer on the video like Jimin’s is. Instead, he’s got his eyes on where his hand disappears into your shorts again. This time, he wiggles his fingers inside your underwear. 

The first press of his fingertips against your clit makes you moan, high-pitched and desperate. You immediately slap your hand over your mouth, and Taehyung chuckles. 

“Y’know, I was thinking…” Taehyung begins, noticing that Jimin’s now watching his fingers move in your shorts. “We should make another video.” 

“You should,” Jimin agrees immediately with a nod. It’s eager, without shame, and that alone makes your pussy throb for some reason. 

Are you into exhibitionism? Is that what this is? What the fuck is going on?

“No way,” you try to protest, but another moan comes from deep in your chest when Taehyung slips his middle finger inside you. 

“I could film it,” Jimin offers, as though finding a director is the issue. His chest rises rapidly as his pretty eyes roam your body. 

Just as before, you let your legs spread. By now, Taehyung isn’t trying to hide what he’s doing. He openly fingers you with his roommate sitting right there, watching. You lean back on your palms and let your head fall back when Taehyung squeezes your thigh with his other hand to hold you open. 

“Yeah, Chim, you film it,” Taehyung agrees. “Baby? Wanna do it now?” He slips a second finger inside you, and you think it’s unfair that he’s asking you this while fingers you because you’d probably do anything to get him to fuck you right now, whether you want to admit it or not. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss. “Fine.” 

With a grin, Taehyung removes his fingers from you. You want to complain, but he and Jimin are off the bed by the time you sit up again. You sit there, dumbfounded, as Taehyung heads to his closet. Jimin trails behind him, nodding at the instructions Taehyung gives him. 

The two return to the bed once they each have a camcorder. They’re smaller than the one Taehyung used before, sleeker, and more colorful compared to the all-black, more heavy-duty one from before. 

Taehyung sets his camera on the bed next to you while Jimin fiddles with his from where he stands at the edge of the bed. 

“Take your clothes off, baby.” 

You bite your lip at the term of endearment you’ve always told Taehyung not to call you, that he calls you anyway. This time, there’s something different about it. You watch him shred his clothes, tossing his t-shirt to the floor and then dropping his sweatpants. As you expected, he isn’t wearing underwear. The sight of his cock, so big and hard that it hangs heavy between his legs, makes you finally start moving. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you throw out just because you have to stay in character unless you want Taehyung to think you’re in love with him or something. 

But he grins like an idiot and kneels on the bed while he waits for you to strip. You thought it would be weird getting naked in front of a stranger, but excitement thrums through you as you think about Jimin’s eyes on you, filming you, while Taehyung fucks you. 

“Should we do introductions like they do in those casting videos?” Taehyung grins up at Jimin. 

The poor guy’s face is bright pink, and his forehead glistens with sweat. Nothing has even happened yet, but he’s completely hard and looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. His hands shake worse than yours had when Taheyung ate you out in the video. 

“Chim.” 

Jimin swallows but doesn’t speak. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung tries again. It seems like Taehyung has a knack for leaving people speechless. He moves to the edge of the bed, still on his knees, and leans forward slightly. Jimin must be too nervous to move because he stands completely still as Taehyung opens his mouth. 

You watch with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as Taehyung takes the flip screen of the camcorder into his mouth. All the while, he keeps his eyes locked on Jimin’s.

It’s so fucking hot you have to look away. 

Finally, something snaps. Jimin jerks backward, pulling the camera out of Taehyung’s mouth. 

“Tae!” He exclaims in disbelief, quickly using his sleeve to clean the screen. “What is wrong with you?” 

“If you wanna join us so bad, hurry up and take your clothes off.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your dick spoke for you.”  

Jimin takes his eyes off Taehyung to look at you. It’s an unspoken request you find yourself granting by nodding your head without even thinking. How could you deny a man that looks like that? Whatever happens, happens. But you know that you want them both if you can have them. The thought just never crossed your mind before. 

It seems that Taehyung has helped you learn a lot about yourself, like how you apparently get off on being embarrassed. 

“I don’t want to fuck you,” Jimin announces to Taehyung. He tries to look serious, but it’s hard not to laugh when his dick bobs from how quickly he tugged his jeans off his body. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to fuck you either; shut up.” 

You thought it would be awkward having Taehyung and Jimin in bed with you, and it is, sort of. Uncharted territory is scary, no matter what it is. It must be evident that you’re feeling this way because Taehyung reaches for you. He pulls you close by the back of the head, and you think the kiss will be rough and charged. Instead, it’s soft. He moves his lips with yours in a gentle rhythm, something meant to be grounding and comforting. His other hand cradles the side of your face, and his thumb caresses your cheek. 

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin’s comment makes you pull back from Taehyung. 

“No, we’re not.” 

“Thank you.”

You scowl at Taehyung, but he’s still wearing that grin that’s getting harder to hate. It slowly fades into something darker once Taehyung finally looks at your body, eyes lingering on how shiny and wet your thighs are from him fucking you with his fingers. 

Taehyung bites his lip, reaching for the camcorder on the bed beside you. 

“Let me record Jimin fucking your face, baby.” 

You and Jimin gasp simultaneously, immediately turning your heads to look at each other. Even though it’s clear that Jimin was invited into this to have sex with you, too, for some reason, you thought Taehyung would be greedier. You thought he wouldn’t want to share, didn’t expect that he’d be the one calling the shots. 

Then again, it isn’t that surprising. Hasn’t Taehyung always called the shots? Sure, you let him, but he was good at it. A director. He’s in his element, you realize. 

You quickly realize, once Jimin’s cock is down your throat, that Jimin is the greedy one. He kneels directly in front of where you sit on the bed and digs his fingers into the back of your head to hold you still as he fucks your throat. 

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. He kneels next to you, recording all the sloppy sounds and visuals of you messily gagging on Jimin’s cock while you jerk Taehyung off. 

Tears spill from your eyes as Jimin’s cock hits the back of your throat. You do your best to keep pumping Taehyung’s cock, but your rhythm falters. 

“Fuck, yes, swallow. Like that.” 

Jimin’s moans are different than Taehyung’s. While Taehyung’s moans are soft and deep, Jimin’s are high-pitched and erratic, coming in stunted waves rather than smooth like Taehyung’s. They sound pretty together, even if they’re so different. 

You can tell Jimin won’t last as long as Taehyung, though. He has to pull away from you very quickly, which is fine because you gasp for air, leaning forward slightly to catch your breath. 

“Don’t go so fucking hard,” Taehyung snaps once he sees your reaction. 

“Wha–” Jimin’s eyes grow wide. 

“I’m fine.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re genuinely okay. You pat Taehyung on the thigh to reassure him because, well, it’s kind of cute that he cared enough to chastise his friend like that. 

Taehyung reaches down to wipe the tears from your cheeks with a stern look that feels strange coming from him. “Let’s take care of you, okay, baby?” 

It’s soft, the way he talks to you. It isn’t for the cameras. 

“I wanna go first. You got your chance before,” Jimin whines.

“Why don’t you ask me then?” 

Jimin crosses his arms against his chest. “May I fuck you first?”

“Sure,” you say with a shrug. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but despite the annoyed look on his face, he flops backward onto the bed. The motion causes his cock to slap against his hip, and he groans, slightly rolling on his side. 

“See, stop being such a drama queen,” Jimin chides.

You let out a rather unattractive snort that makes Jimin grin. 

“I like him.”

“Shut up.” 

For once, Taehyung doesn’t have a witty comeback or a stupid smirk to flash your way. Instead, his face twists into something unpleasant. The expression quickly dissolves, and you almost feel like you’ve imagined it. 

Taehyung leans back on his elbows and looks down at where you settle between his legs. Even when Jimin moves to kneel behind you, Taehyung’s eyes never leave yours except to check the flipped screen of his camcorder. 

“Wait, use this.” Taehyung sits up, and his cock is suddenly very close to your face. He reaches over to open his nightstand drawer, nearly ripping the entire thing out. “A lot of it.” 

Something passes between Taehyung and Jimin’s hands. You only glimpse it, but between what you see and the sound of a cap popping open, you know it’s a half-empty bottle of lube that Jimin is now squeezing all over your ass.

“What the hell,” you hiss as the cool liquid drips down your thighs. “Might as well dump the whole fucking thing on me, shit.” 

You refuse to admit that it feels nice having Jimin massage the lube into your skin. It heats up quickly, and his hand easily glides across your muscles. You feel yourself sink forward, lifting your lower half to give Jimin more access. In the midst of how good Jimin’s hand feels, something cold and hard presses against your lower back.  

“If you ruin my camera, Jimin–” 

“That’s hyung to you.” 

“No fucking way.” 

Their banter would be cute if you didn’t have your ass in the air and Taehyung’s dick mere inches from your face. And maybe if you didn’t fucking hate Taehyung and weren’t wary of Jimin at best. 

“Are we gonna do something, or…?” 

Taehyung fluffs a pillow behind his head to keep him propped up so he’ll have a better shot for filming. 

“Yeah, put it in your mouth.” 

You roll your eyes because there Taehyung goes, bossing you around again, but something deep inside whispers that you fucking like it. Not that you would say it out loud. You can’t help how your pussy gushes over him, though. It’s a betrayal, honestly. 

“Say, please.” 

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you. “No.” 

You don’t have a chance to bitch him out because Jimin chooses that moment to slowly inch his cock inside of you. 

“Oh my god,” you moan with your lips brushing against the base of Taehyung’s cock. You rock back gently, helping Jimin ease into you.  

“So tight,” Jimin says once his hips are flat against your thighs and his cock is fully buried inside you.

“Right?” Taehyung murmurs. “You always feel so good.”  

It’s a bit difficult to bob your head along Taehyung’s cock when Jimin’s fucking into you like his life depends on it. The rhythm is all off, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind. He’s watching you with fucking stars in his eyes, hyperfocused on where your lips suckle the head of his cock. When you take more of him into your mouth, he switches the camcorder to his right hand and reaches out to you with his left. 

Taehyung runs his thumb along your upper lip, shallowly dipping into the corner of your mouth to feel how little space there is with your mouth full of his cock. 

“Don’t run away; you gotta take it,” Jimin grunts, squeezing your waist and pulling you back hard onto his cock. 

You want to snap at Jimin that it’s not your fault you keep getting lurched forward, but Taehyung’s letting out cute little whimpers from you rubbing your tongue against his slit, and you don’t want to do anything to make him stop. 

When you finally pull off Taehyung to breathe, a string of spit connects your lips to his shiny cock. 

“Can I fuck you in the ass, baby?” Taehyung practically hums the question, his voice already fucked out, deep and hoarse. “I think we need to diversify our portfolio.” 

At the question, Jimin slows down his thrusts until they’re shallow and don’t jostle you too severely.

You’re nodding before your brain can catch up to how your body reacts to Taehyung’s request. 

“Jimin?” 

“On it, boss.” 

You mean to groan in annoyance at how fucking corny they are – as if they’re actually trying to make this into a bad porno – but a moan comes out instead as Jimin slowly presses a generously lubed finger against your rim. 

“Have you done this before?” Jimin asks, working you open with one finger before moving on to a second.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, the sensation of Jimin’s cock still moving inside you while his fingers are in your ass enough to make you lose your mind. Even if you hadn’t fingered yourself before, the amount of lube Jimin poured all over your ass removes nearly all the friction and tension. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Taehyung groans in an almost frustrated tone. He reaches down to pump his cock since you’re virtually useless with Jimin’s fingers and cock moving inside of you simultaneously. 

“Oh my god, Jimin.” You bury your face in the inside of Taehyung’s thigh, biting down just to ground yourself.

“Shit, that hurts,” Taehyung hisses, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. 

Once Jimin has four fingers inside of you, he leans forward to get closer to ask you if you’re ready.

“Do you want us at the same time?”  

Something that almost sounds pained comes from Taehyung, a broken whimper you’ve never heard from him before. He squeezes his eyes shut and nods his head even though the question isn’t for him. 

“Please, fuck, Y/N, please say yes.” 

You can’t even appreciate hearing Taehyung beg because you’re desperate for this, too. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just, let’s go.” You get up, nearly slipping from all the lube that has dripped down onto your body and Taehyung’s. 

“I don’t understand how Taehyung ended up not doing any of the work,” Jimin grumbles as he helps you turn around. 

You’re hardly paying attention to the men’s bickering. They can do whatever weird bromance thing they’re doing, but you’re trying to get doubly dicked down. Cameras or not. 

You sit on Taehyung’s abdomen with your legs on either side of his thighs and face Jimin. Taehyung’s large hands squeeze your waist to lift you up while Jimin grabs Taehyung’s cock to guide the head to your rim. 

“I can’t believe I have to touch your dick,” Jimin adds to his list of grievances that you’re sure Taehyung will never hear the end of. 

Taehyung just laughs, causing your body to jiggle in his tight grip. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” 

Jimin grimaces. “I really don’t.” 

It’s surprising that the two have never done this before when it feels so natural for the three of you to fall into place like this. 

Eventually, Jimin lets go of Taehyung’s cock once the tip pushes inside you. Taehyung feels much bigger than you remember, and Jimin’s fingers certainly don’t compare. Luckily, Taehyung is gentle as he pushes past the ring of muscles. Thank god for the ridiculous amount of lube. It allows you to sink down on Taehyung’s cock with only mild discomfort at first. 

“Relax, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. His hands slide up to squeeze your tits, rubbing and pinching your nipples as you eventually slide fully onto his cock. 

“O-o-okay,” you stutter as Jimin kneels between you and Taehyung’s legs. 

Jimin’s slow as he eases his cock into your pussy, mindful of the pressure you will feel with both cocks inside you. He pauses when he’s halfway in to squeeze even more lube onto his cock, making sure there’s enough to drip down to Taehyung’s, too. 

“What are we filming, a fucking lube ad? What is this?” 

“Shh, baby, you’re gonna ruin the audio,” Taehyung scolds from behind you. 

Biting your lip, you watch Jimin’s face as he concentrates on sliding into you. He’s pretty, sweet even, but… he’s not Taehyung. 

“Wait.” 

Jimin’s bright eyes flit up to meet yours. Concern twists his features, making his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you okay?” 

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt? Did we not prep you enough?” Taehyung tries to sit up, but Jimin slaps his thigh.

“Stop moving!” 

“I just wanna know what’s going on!” 

Taehyung rubs comforting circles into your sides, sliding his thumbs down to trace your hip bones before running his palms back across your ribs. 

You shake your head and try not to think about what you’re going to say.

“I… I want to,” your face heats up, and you internally scold yourself for feeling the way you do. “I want Tae.” 

Your words are rushed, but Jimin seems to understand – perhaps even more than what you’ve let on because he gives you a small smile and eases out of you without any questions. 

“What?” Taehyung peers from around your body.  

“No assfucking for you, buddy. Better luck next time.” 

“Jimin!” It’s your turn to haul a slap, this one hard against Jimin’s arm. “I’m a person.”

At least Jimin has enough sense to appear bashful. Grabbing your arms, he helps you lift off of Taehyung. He guides you so you’ve got your knees on either side of Taehyung’s hips. 

When you straddle Taehyung, you press your palms to his chest and dig your fingers into his firm pecs. He’s gorgeous like this, skin smooth and tan. A few moles scatter his torso, like little flecks of chocolate that you suddenly realize you’ve missed out on having the chance to lick up. His cheeks are dusted a light pink, and his sweaty bangs are brushed away from his forehead. 

He’s gorgeous all the time, but especially like this. 

“See something you like?” 

You dig your nails into his skin, and Taehyung winces, but he maintains that stupid fucking sparkle of mischief in his eyes. 

“Shut up. Maybe.” 

Taehyung’s grin widens. It’s bright and lopsided, makes him look like an idiot, honestly, and your stomach swoops because, fuck, you’re so fucked. 

“Are you two lovebirds ready or what? My dick is starting to hurt.” 

Taehyung apparently thinks slapping your ass is the best way to respond to Jimin’s question. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guide Taehyung’s cock inside your pussy. The unholy amount of lube makes it easy for him to slip in, which is good because you need to focus on relaxing your body once you feel Jimin’s cock press against your rim. 

You’ve never had two dicks at once – god, it sounds insane when you think about it, even though you know plenty of people who have explored this side of their sexual fantasies. It just isn’t something you’d do, mainly because you’ve always been insecure and a little shy. The hardass exterior is a great wall you’ve built to hide from getting your heart broken, but of course, Taehyung has managed to fuck with all your plans. 

It’s a strange sensation once Jimin fully bottoms out. The three of you freeze, allowing your body to adjust. 

After a while, Taehyung grabs your ass, holding you open as he and Jimin slowly begin to rock into you. As it was when you were sucking Taehyung off, it’s a bit difficult to find the right rhythm at first. Taehyung and Jimin bicker back and forth about who should thrust first and who should pull back. Taehyung jostles you in his lap a few times, squeezing your thighs to adjust your legs against his hips when he isn’t kneading your ass. 

Jimin eventually pushes down on your back, pressing you against Taehyung to open your hips more. The action pushes your chest into Taehyung’s face, much to his amusement, because he immediately sucks one of your perky nipples into his mouth. 

“Oh god,” you moan, reaching out to squeeze Taehyung’s broad shoulders when he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue. His mouth is wet and warm, and your nipples have always been extra sensitive when you’re aroused. 

“Fuck, Tae, just, go now,” Jimin instructs through gritted teeth. 

Taehyung begins thrusting into you at a different tempo, knocking your heart into your throat because you can feel both of their cocks alternating thrusts inside of you now, both rubbing against each other between your walls. 

It’s embarrassing when the first wave of tears starts streaming down your face. You start babbling, hardly aware of what you’re saying because the pleasure is so intense it feels as though your brain completely short circuits. 

“Tae, Tae, oh my god, Taehyung,” you breathily chant into Taehyung’s ear. You can’t lean far forward because you have to keep your back arched for both Jimin and Taehyung to comfortably thrust into you. That frustrates you because you suddenly feel the need to be closer to Taehyung. It’s like everything inside of you will explode if you don’t. 

“Tae, I n-need y-y-you,” you sob. 

“Shhh, baby, we got you, okay? I got you.” Taehyung reaches up to lightly wrap his hand around your throat. It isn’t meant to choke you, just to comfort you with his presence since he can’t hold you against his chest. 

“Dropping?” Jimin asks as he pounds into you from behind. 

“Just sensitive, I think,” Taehyung responds for you, and it makes you warm to know that he knows you well enough to answer correctly.

His hand slides from your throat to hold your jaw. The position allows him to press his middle finger into your mouth. You immediately suck on it, finding comfort in it even as you continue to cry from the pleasure. 

“I’m gonna cum. Tae. I’m gonna cum.” 

Taehyung’s hand quickly drops to squeeze between your bodies. He rubs your clit, adding the extra sensation you need to finally push you over the edge. You cry out Taehyung’s name as you cum on both his and Jimin’s cocks, fingers digging into Taehyung’s pecs so hard that you worry you’ll draw blood. 

Jimin immediately cums, too, the feeling of your ass clenching around his cock proving too much for him. 

“Wait, wait,” he pleads until Taehyung stops moving. “Let me pull out.” 

You whimper when you feel Jimin ease out of you, your ass clenching and unclenching as your body adjusts. Now that only Taehyung is inside you, you collapse against his chest. Your lips find his neck and suck, making him shiver underneath you. 

“Can I move?” Taehyung asks, and you hum, too afraid to speak. 

Taehyung fucks into you harder than he had before. There’s something desperate about it, the way he chases his pleasure and can thrust at the speed he wants without needing to match with Jimin. You don’t even know what Jimin’s doing, probably cleaning himself up or filming you. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is how Taehyung moans your name as he thrusts into you. It’s sloppy and wet, something Taehyung appreciates. 

“You sound so good,” he moans into your ear. “Will you cum for me again?” 

You frantically nod your head, already almost there. 

“Just let go for me, okay? You can trust me.” 

It feels like more than just sex when he whispers it in your ear, another quiet promise meant for you and not the camera. 

You cum for a second time, this one accompanied by a silent scream that’s pressed into the crook of Taehyung’s sweaty neck. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Taehyung groans, squeezing you against his chest as he finally finds his release, too. 

You feel warm and gooey, none of your limbs cooperating when Taehyung tries to move you off him. Jimin has to help, and the two lay you on your back and get to work cleaning you up. It should be embarrassing, but you kind of like having two men doting on you. It’s nice, even if you’re still a little sticky from cum and lube, even after they’ve done their best to wipe your body down. 

Why haven’t you ever done this before? This is lovely. Men should be taking care of you. 

You smile at them, brain fuzzy and warm, when Jimin helps Taehyung tuck you into bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, caressing it lightly. 

“I’m barely holding on.” 

Jimin snorts and immediately turns his head away when Taehyung shoots him a death glare. 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” The nervousness in Taehyung’s voice is cute. 

“You’re cute.” 

Rather than say something smug, Taehyung covers his face with his hands. 

“We broke Y/N.” 

“What?” Jimin whips his head back around. “What, because you’re cute?” 

“Yes.” 

You use the rest of your strength to slap Taehyung in the thigh. “Oh, shut the fuck up before I kick your ass. Take the fucking compliment.” 

Taehyung peeks at you from between his fingers. “Fuck, you scared me for a second there.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Jimin stands up and stretches his arms out. “You’re both fucking drama queens.” 

[lunar-jimin]

slut! (pjm) 18+

slut! - “being this young is art”

rating: 18+ (mdni)

length: 7.7k

pairing: actor!jimin x actress!reader

genres: hollywood!au, fake dating!au, e2l, angst, smut

summary: You’re an up-and-coming actress known for playing cheerleaders and femme fatales in a series of successful teen blockbusters. With your roles comes a reputation: that of a girl who likes to have fun between the sheets. Your latest film is ramping up to be the movie of the summer, but this time you’re playing a sweet girl-next-door and your love interest is played by the beloved Park Jimin. To sell the role, your PR manager has set you up in a fake relationship with Jimin, who is only too aware of the good times you are known for. 

warnings: misogyny in the film industry, degrading language (non sexual), infidelity, intoxication, drug usage (weed), smut: kissing, dry humping, oral (fem. receiving), sex acts while intoxicated, p in v sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), minor breeding kink

a/n: there is some general talking down of what I would describe as rom-coms/chick flicks in this fic that do no represent my actual feelings about these genres, as I think some the best movies ever made fall into those genres. also happy belated lorde album release day to all who celebrate!

| mlist | series mlist |

HERE'S HOW IT BEGAN. In an over-air-conditioned office on the twelfth floor of a PR firm in Santa Monica. You were sat in a chair that looked like it belonged in the MoMA and felt like it belonged in a thirteenth-century torture chamber. Summer, your PR manager, sat across from you, legs crossed under her glass desk. She looked pensive. 

You were meeting to discuss the PR strategy for your new movie, yet another modern remake of Pride & Prejudice. After a run of prom queens and femme fatales, you found yourself playing the quote-on-quote "good girl" for once. After spending nearly three years curating the perfect bad girl image, complete with drunken paparazzi pics and a new man on your arm every month, Summer was determined to remake your image into one that aligned with your latest role. 

You'd spent the last three weeks attending spin classes and preaching the wonders of meditation to any talk show host who would listen, and yet the public remained unconvinced. Summer felt that it was time for something bigger.

"It's your love life, I think." She looked scared.

"What love life?" you rolled your eyes, "I haven't been in love since I was twelve and convinced I would marry Justin Bieber one day."

Summer sighed, "You know what I mean. You need a relationship. A stable relationship. That lasts at least six months. And with someone who the public thinks is, let's say, wholesome."

"Six months?," you gawk, "I haven't been in a real relationship in over half a decade, and you want me to just pick someone and date them for six months."

"Well…"

"No. Not again."

"C'mon, who would you even pick?"

“Um…probably…definitely…I don't know," you huff in defeat. 

"Well, that's why I have someone picked out already."

"And they've already agreed to this whole shit-show circus we're putting on?"

"More or less."

"More or less?"

"Yes. So long as you are willing. And…”

"And what?"

"Well, he asked that he gets your STD test results beforehand. But I think that was joke." 

"My what?" you jump out of your chair and start pacing, "he wants my STD test results? Does he think we'll actually be sleeping together? It's fake!"

"Well, like I said, I'm pretty sure it was a joke. He also seemed somewhat unconvinced that sex was off the table," she looked sheepish, "said that he's hard to resist."

"What god-forsaken man have you picked out that charms the public with his 'wholesome' demeanor but is actually an absolute asshole?" 

As the words came out of your mouth, realization brought you back to your chair. You look Summer dead in the eyes.  

"No." 

"Please just…"

"No." You cross your arms. "Absolutely not. In no version of reality will I even fake date that absolute piece of shit."

"But it would work so well. You're costars and his image would help clean yours up. Think of the roles."

You sat back down. The roles. Summer was dangling in front of you your precious hope that perhaps you could move on from the bimbos in action films and preppy blonde girls in teen rom-coms to movies that might get you nominated for an Oscar. Or at least a Golden Globe. It was why you had pushed for this movie, as dumb as it was, because it gave you a chance to clean up your image. 

Because the reality of it all was that it was fake. It was all fake. Maybe you had actually been drunk once or twice, and maybe you had slept with two or three of the many guys you had been spotted with, but the reality was that you spent most of your evenings curled up on your couch, watching Cartoon Network reruns. The reality was that you had spent your early twenties longing for a real relationship, but to keep up your image, you never once said yes to a date that might lead to something serious. 

And now you finally had the opportunity to have something at least a little closer to that reality, and that opportunity was being squandered on motherfucking Park Jimin. 

Jimin's house wasn't what you expected of one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors. You had assumed he lived amongst clean, white walls and stark, black furniture. Not this sprawling mid-century modern home with its curves and warm woods. It felt cozy in a way you never associated with the man sitting across from you.

You were at his dining room table, Summer beside you and Jimin's PR agent, Seokjin, across from her. Jimin had ever so kindly agreed to host this meeting going over the terms of your new "relationship." Summer and Seokjin were pouring over the list of planned engagements for the two of you: fake dates, premiers, award shows, and press tours. The whole works. Jimin and you were reviewing your consent forms. It was going…okay.

Some of it was easy:

"Holding hands?" Jimin asked.

"I think it would be a pretty unconvincing relationship if we can't hold hands."

"Hey now, consent is key," he poked. 

God, you hated his guts. The thing was, out of everyone you had ever met, Jimin remained the most convinced of your man-eating ways, and that had created a rift between the two of you from the first time you met. He thought you were easy and unprofessional. You thought he was a snob who never bothered to get to know you. If you weren't on set, you ignored each other. The fact that you had any on-screen chemistry at all was a miracle. And now you had to go on recreating that chemistry for the next six months. 

"Okay, what about hugging?"

You glared at him.

"Kissing?"

"Once again-"

"I know, I know, convincing relationship, blah, blah, blah. What about tongue? Grabbing your ass?"

"I don't think grabbing my ass is in line with the whole 'wholesome' relationship vibe we're going for here."

"But me shoving my tongue down your throat is?"

"I didn't say yes to tongue."

"But you didn't say no."

"Jimin, I swear…"

"Guys, guys, there's no need to get hostile," Seokjin interrupted, "we're trying to get you on good terms here." 

"Don't look at me, she's the one getting upset," Jimin whined.

"And that has nothing at all to do with you provoking me," you shot back.

"Okay, how about this," Summer started, "we start with just hand-holding, hugging, and kissing, no tongue, and as we move through this relationship, we'll do periodic check-ins to see if we need add anything else."

You loved Summer. For all her scheming ways, she really did have her head screwed on straight. You had an agent, Georgina, but Summer was the only person on your team that you really trusted. Maybe because it was her job to know who you really were, even if it was just so that she could better turn you into someone else. 

"I can agree to that," you looked at Jimin expectantly.

"Yeah, that's fine by me."

"Fantastic."

Summer and Seokjin shared a relieved look. 

"Okay then. Summer and I have figured out your next couple of engagements, but there will be more to come for sure." Seokjin looked down at his computer and the agenda the two of them had concocted. "First up is a date. We were thinking maybe on Jimin's yacht. A picnic. Some swimming. Maybe a kiss or two. Sweet, innocent-"

"Wholesome," you interjected, "we know." 

"Fantastic. You two can pick the exact date, but we would prefer sometime in the next week or two. We really want to get the ball rolling on this."

There was something strange to you about using such corporate language to describe a relationship, as fake as it was.

"That works for me," you say.

Jimin nods in agreement.

"Alright then, I think that concludes the meeting." 

You and Summer stand up to leave. You turn to Jimin.

"I'll have my assistant contact yours?"

"Sure."

"Great."

Your stomach sank as you walked away, hoping that you could survive the next half a year without tearing each other apart on accident. Or on purpose, for that matter.

Five days later, you're sunning yourself on Jimin's yacht anchored off of Malibu. You were lounging in a periwinkle one-piece while Jimin sat across from you in board shorts and an unbuttoned tee, abs on display. His black hair had dried messily from the dip you had taken in the ocean a bit ago. You were surprised to find that your time together hadn't been unbearable. So far.

You had met Jimin at Marina del Rey in the late morning and had sailed out towards Malibu, where Seokjin and Summer had ensured there would be paparazzi waiting for you. You had spent the first hour on the boat in relative silence. There was no one to watch you and, therefore, no need to perform. All the staff on the boat had signed ironclad NDAs and were well aware of the fact this whole thing was an absolute sham. 

You had anchored about two hours ago, and Jimin had immediately taken the opportunity to jump into the ocean. You tried not to be insulted that he had taken the first opportunity to put distance between you and quickly followed him into the blue. 

Now, you were both relaxing on the upper deck, taking in the sun and waiting for lunch to be served. You desperately craved a beer, but Summer was worried about what it would be like if someone took yet another photo of you with alcohol in hand. Instead, you tried to strike up a conversation with Jimin. Again. 

"So…," you cleared your throat, "acting."

"What about it?"

Jimin's voice was so devoid of expression that you felt cold even in the warmth of the sun.

"How'd you get into it?"

"Same way as most I suppose. I did theatre as a kid, never really stopped, when to Tisch, and here we are."

"You say that as if it's easy to get into Tisch."

Jimin just shrugged. "What about you?"

You winced. You didn't hate your backstory, but it wasn't the glamorous one people desperately wanted. It featured dropping out of community college five credits away from your Associate's and living in an apartment with four other girls also trying to make it big and who all hated you except for your current best friend, Maria. After two years of working shit customer service jobs and attending hundreds of auditions, you finally worked your way into the industry. And even then, that meant that you were lucky. 

You gave Jimin a summarized version, and he nodded as if the story needed his approval. You fall back into silence. Eventually, staff appear with plates of finger food and what appear to be glasses of soda. You take a sip and sigh when rum burns your tongue. Summer had planned the menu and clearly had taken mercy on you. 

Jimin moved to sit beside you as you ate. Seokjin had suggested finger food so that you could feed each other. Personally, you felt nauseous at the idea, but you were left with increasingly little input on the nature of this relationship. 

Jimin placed an arm around your back, and you suddenly became conscious of how close you had gotten to the shore. You took a subtle peak to the side, and sure enough, you caught a glance of a camera flashing in your direction. With a small sigh, you moved in closer to Jimin. Heat seared into your thigh where he pressed into you. 

He grabbed a crostini and looked at you expectantly.

"What?" you snarked.

You knew what he wanted but had no desire to make it easy for him.

"Open your mouth."

"I think it's a little early in the relationship for you to be demanding head like this."

Jimin threw his head back in exasperation.

"For fuck's sake, will you just cooperate? This is never gonna work if you don't even try to pretend to like me."

"Oh because pretending is so easy for you?"

"Well I am an actor."

"So am I."

"Well then act."

You glared but then slightly opened your mouth in acquiescence. Jimin grinned at your obedience and brought the crostini closer so that you could take a bite. You closed your eyes as you chewed, upset with just how good the food was. You must have made a sound because when you opened your eyes, Jimin was staring at you. You matched his gaze as he took the other half of the crostini in his mouth. The air suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and despite only having a few sips of your drink, you felt tipsy. 

The plain truth of it was--despite how much you despised his personality--you would be insane to deny how attractive Jimin was. His eyes could charm a cobra, and his jawline could cleave diamonds. His arm was strong around you, and for the briefest of moments, you wondered what it would be like to ride his muscular thighs. 

Jimin seemed equally as caught up as you, and it took more effort than you cared for to remember that this was all an act. It was the same thing you had spent doing for six weeks on a set. His eyes flickered down to your lips before coming back to your gaze. Your stomach twisted, and your thighs clenched slightly. His arm around you pulled you closer.

You were going to kiss. This was preplanned, but you had to admit, you had expected something more innocent. A quick peck. This was heated. A brief glimmer of worry bounced through you as you wondered if this wouldn't be wholesome enough. The thought evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. 

You felt his face get closer to yours. You had kissed before; there was no way around it, playing romantic opposites. But those had been on film sets where everything reeked of artificiality. It had never felt reel. But this, this was slightly more real. You couldn't feel the eyes watching you. His other hand came to grab your waist, and before you could so much as blink, his lips captured yours.  

Despite yourself, your arms came up to wrap around him, hand coming to the back of his neck to pull him into you. He smirked at your response. You thought you could hear a low chuckle rumble from him. And then, as quickly as he had kissed you, he pulled away. 

"Now, that was some good acting, babe."

It took everything in you not to put a boat length's worth of space between the two of you, but you didn't want to give up the ruse you had just sacrificed your dignity to create. Instead, you looked up into his eyes, trying not to notice how they glowed golden in the sun.

"I could say the same, Park. You even managed not to cum in your pants, I'm impressed."

"It takes a lot more than that to make me cum in my pants, darling." 

He complimented his statement with a squeeze of your thigh. You jumped.

"Goddamn you, Jimin. I swear to God-"

"Careful now, not sure what the press will make of you fighting with me on our first date."

You glared at him but shut your mouth. To your annoyance, he dipped down and pecked your lips again, surely only to infuriate you further. You were about to start lecturing him again when the Captain came to tell you that you were returning to the marina. 

His interruption left the deck in a state of awkward silence. You sat rigid next to each other until you were far enough away from any cameras to separate entirely.

After the yacht date came your first public engagement: the preview for your film. It was a relatively small event, not even really official. You wore a simple sage green sundress with a tight bust and a loose skirt that landed on your mid-thigh. Jimin wore a loose orange tee and dark, straight-leg jeans. At a meeting the afternoon before, you had agreed that he could put his arm around your waist and kiss your cheek. You said no to sitting in his lap unless it was absolutely necessary. 

You had arrived in the same car, the small crowd roaring as Jimin pulled you out of the car behind him, your hand caught in his. His arm instantly found your waist, guiding you past the flashing cameras, smiling and waiving the whole time. You did your best to keep up with his cheerful, charismatic appearance. 

Once inside the theatre and out of the public's eye, Jimin allowed some distance to form between the two of you. While your costars and the crew had not been informed of the exact nature of your and Jimin's relationship, they were all Hollywood veterans and scent a PR moment easily enough. Still, neither of you let pretenses drop entirely. During the screening, you kept your body angled towards his and even dropped your head onto his shoulder. In response, he rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. It was the kind of subtle detail that reminded you of how good an actor Jimin was.

In truth, Jimin didn't really need to do movies like these. He had already won an Oscar and been nominated for a handful more. He likely had another one coming this award season. But the truth of Hollywood was that it was these corny, blockbuster-type movies that brought in the cash. And as much as any actor would loathe to admit it, their craft could absolutely be bought for the right price.

After the movie was over, you followed Jimin back into the car to head to an afterparty at the director's house in Beverly Hills. You hadn't quite made it big enough for the 90210 zip code, and you always felt slightly out of place when you visited. The house the party was at was one of those Mediterranean-looking goliaths. The inside was lit in a soft yellow glow that filtered through marijuana smoke and left behind a hazy, romantic filter. Jimin almost looked like he was sparkling. 

He briefly left you alone in the living room before reappearing with two martinis. He handed you one. You took it. He held out his own.

"Cheers," he said.

"Cheers."

Your glasses clinked. The alcohol left a cool burn down your throat. Jimin watched your throat as it moved. You felt faint. 

"Hi guys, fantastic movie!" Summer's voice broke your trance. You turned to see her and Seokjin approaching.

"You don't have to lie to me, Summer," you grin, "I'm not the general public."

"Not lying. It's giving Clueless, Legally Blonde, 90's rom-com spectacularity. I'm predicting cult classic status."

Now, it was Jimin's turn to laugh. "You've got some big dreams for us, Summer."

The night slipped away into a cozy blur. You were sitting next to Jimin on a couch on some patio. A fire crackled in a pit nearby. His arm had found its way around your back. The two of you were sharing a joint with Summer and Seokjin. She had given you the okay, given that there was no shot of the paps finding you here. 

The higher you got, the more you craved Jimin's body heat. You were floating higher and higher and soon forgot that you were supposed to despise the man sitting next to you. You were so high, you didn't even notice Seokjin and Summer disappear. And then, all at once, it was just you and Jimin. 

His eyes found yours as he raised the joint to his mouth, taking in a long pull. Once again, his arm was around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest. Your faces inched closer together until he was close enough to exhale into your waiting open mouth. He hesitated only momentarily before he kissed you, this time wasting no time biting your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth when you gasped. 

The kiss was slow and yet somehow rushed. Hungry. He pulled you on top of him, landing on his hardening length. You rutted into him, and he groaned, one hand spreading across your upper back and the other grabbing your hip, pulling you into him until there was no space left between your bodies. You wanted to devour him, and judging from his groans, he wanted to devour you, too. 

You pulled away to breathe, and all at once, your exhaustion hit you like a train. Jimin himself looked on the brink of sleep, his red-rimmed eyes nearly closed. You collapsed down on top of him, and before you knew it, you were asleep. 

The next morning, you woke alone on the couch you had fallen asleep on. You quickly found your clutch and your phone, calling for a driver to pick you up. You got home and immediately took a shower. The hot water nearly scalded your naked skin, leaving it flushed. The night before lingered in a chopped-up blur. You remember talking to Summer and drinking and smoking. And kissing. You remembered Jimin's lips on yours and his hands digging into your skin.

You shuddered, trying to ignore the way your heart began to race at just the thought of his touch. And then came a wave of anxiety, wondering what Jimin thought of you. Wondering what his intentions were. Wondering where you now stood.

You turned off the water and wrapped yourself up in a fluffy towel. After drying and combing your hair, you made your way to your room, where you promptly dropped down onto your bed. Your phone lay a foot away from you. You tried to compose a text to Jimin that didn't leave you looking desperate or stupid. 

Before you could be subsumed by your thoughts entirely, your phone screen lit up with a call from the man himself. You counted to five in your head before picking up.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey."

"So…," he sounded nervous.

"Last night?"

"Yeah."

"Look…" you trailed off, mind reeling, trying to come up with an adequate sentence. "It's my fault." Fuck, where were you going with this? "I get a little, well, let's say heated, when I get high. So my apologies. I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."

Silence held for several painful seconds. Then Jimin sighed.

"Yeah, no, you're okay. It, uh, takes two to tango, but definitely maybe we leave the weed out in the future, yeah?"

"Yeah. Sure. Good idea."

"Well…" Jimin trailed off.

"I've got to go," you rushed out, "meeting with my agent."

In truth, you had absolutely no plans for the whole rest of your day, but for some reason, you couldn't stand the idea of Jimin being the one to hang up on you. 

"Sure, see you soon."

"See ya."

The line went dead. Something sank in your stomach, leaving you mildly nauseous. It's fine, you thought, it was just the weed. You can't stand the man. No need to worry. Just back to the ruse. Or so you tried to convince yourself.

The next month swirled past you. You and Jimin's relationship ramped up. People were buying it, despite how obvious you felt it was. They want it too much, Summer had told you. The more dates you went on with Jimin, the less you hated the idea of him. It was hard to despise someone you spent so much time pretending to like.

It didn't hurt that Jimin was now forced to always be kind to you. While you knew deep down his displays of affection were false, you had to admit there was a part of you that enjoyed pretending like it was all real. That, for once, someone had deemed you worthy of time and attention. 

After a string of shared engagements during the US press tour, you are finally allowed a reprieve while Jimin is once again forced under the stage lights of some late-night show. You watched from the comfort of a hotel bed in New York City, curled up with a pint of Ben and Jerry's. 

Jimin looked good. He was smiling in yet another baggy tee and pair of jeans, legs spread like he owned the place. The host started off with some questions about the movie and the filming process, but it wasn't long before he moved on to talk about your relationship. This was big. It was the first time either of you were going to officially confirm it. 

What you didn't expect was the host to follow it up with a question about how Jimin felt about your past. Suddenly, you felt much too warm as you watched Jimin's cheeks redden and his eyes flash with something that looked like irritation. His jaw subtly clicked, and he took a breath before answering. 

"I find that question offensive quite frankly." Your stomach flipped. "I don't see what her past should matter to me. She's a grown woman, she do what she wants. Now, she's with me, and we're both happy. That's all that matters."

The host offered a brief apology before moving on to ask Jimin about his other recent movie, the one he was supposed to get an Oscar for. You could barely hear the TV over the blood rushing in your ears. You groped for your phone in the blankets beside you, gritting your teeth as you opened your socials. 

It was what you expected. Some people were freaking out about Jimin confirming your relationship. Others were praising him for defending you. But through it all was the dark current of people who had nothing better to do than offer you their criticism. The vitriol. Words organized to tear you down. Slut. Whore. Easy. Even though it was all fake, it still stung. You got lost, scrolling through it all, slowly allowing yourself to go numb. You barely even heard the knock on the door.

You shook yourself out of your stupor and crawled out of the bed. You opened to find Jimin standing before you. His hair was damp from a shower. He wore a black hoodie and sweats.

"Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider to make space for him to enter. He brushed past you. You shut the door behind him and followed him into the room. He took a seat on your bed, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees. You leaned against the dresser, his presence making you slightly uneasy. He glanced up at you.

"You watched?" His voice was soft and scratchy.

You nodded.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrugged.

"Your non-verbal answers are not very convincing."

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. 

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

"But that guy was an absolute ass."

"Well, the internet seems to think his point is valid."

Jimin's eyebrows shot up, "You went online?"

You looked at the ground in shame. Any public figure knows that social media is a one-way ticket to clobbering your self-esteem. 

"I'm not judging," Jimin reassures you, "I'm just surprised. I know you know this, but you shouldn't listen those idiots."

"I'd like to remind you that it was not long ago that you seemed to share their opinion."

Jimin looked sheepish. You sat in silence. Finally, you opened your mouth, and the words were out before you could stop them.

"None of it's true, you know."

"What?"

"The partying, the guys, the booze, the whole bad girl thing. It's not true. It's just as much an image as this whole rodeo is."

When you could finally meet his eyes, you found Jimin looking at you as if he might throw up. You laughed awkwardly.

"Yeah. I, um, I just thought maybe it would be good for you to know."

Jimin nodded and straightened his face, "Yeah. Makes sense. Thanks."

He stands up and moves toward the door.

"I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah."

"Take care of yourself."

He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't and turns and leaves.

From New York, the cast flies across the Atlantic for the European leg of the press tour. You and Jimin kept up appearances the whole time, shopping together at Piccadilly Circus in London and feeding each other pizza in Rome. Your last stop was Paris, and to celebrate the end of the tour and the upcoming premiere of the film, you all head out to a club.

It was one of those underground places: humid and dark except for the colored lights and a disco ball, which made it all feel like a dream. The bass from a house remix of some pop song thunders through your body as you sway on the dance floor. You and a couple of cast members slipped away to share a joint. 

You knew that it was probably a bad idea, given what happened the last time you had gotten high, but you felt like the night demanded it. You felt hot in your little black dress, and for once, you weren't thinking about your reputation.

Europe had been a new world for you. Ever since your admission in New York, there was a strange sense of ease between the two of you. You barely had to think when it came to pretending he was yours. It became second nature to grab his hand or kiss his cheek. The space next to you felt cold when he wasn't there to occupy it. 

You returned to the sweaty club. Jimin was sitting at a table talking to a costar. He looked beautiful in the light, hair pushed off his forehead, collarbone peeking out from the loose, button-down draping off of him. He looked up and caught your eye before glancing back to his conversation partner. You lost sight of him as you made your way onto the dance floor, letting the drugs and the music melt away any stress you had ever felt. 

A hand grabbed your waste, fingerprints searing through the silk of your dress. Then he was behind you, and you could smell the familiar spice of his cologne, and you were gone. An arm came up to grab the back of his neck as your hips ground back into his, swaying to the sultry beat of the song. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered your name in the dark.

You shivered and felt your panties turn damp. Your bodies moved together, Jimin's hand on your hip guiding you along the rhythm. His other hand rested warm on your bare thigh, and his lips found your neck. Your head collapsed back onto his shoulder, ecstasy running from your head to your toes, every nerve on fire.

The song faded into a new one, and Jimin's voice danced along the curve of your ear.

"Follow me."

You didn't question him once; let him take your hand and drag you off the dance floor. You blinked slowly as he pulled you to an alcove and then through a door, and suddenly, you were in a bathroom, dark except for a sconce painting the room in a purple-ish-pink. You could barely focus on Jimin before he had you pressed against the wall, lips attacking yours relentlessly. 

You moaned shamelessly, hands finding his hair and a leg coming up to wrap around his hip. You pulled him in close, back arching up to meet him. You were voracious. You didn't know if you wanted to consume him or if you wanted him to consume you. 

"Fuck, baby, goddamn."

Jimin's words came out as groans. His hands found the hem of your dress, and you barely even noticed yourself pleading with him to move them higher. To touch you where you were on fire. 

You felt your eyes water as the heat of his touch moved to the band of your panties, and then his fingers were on your clit, and he swallowed your moan in a kiss to prevent the whole club from hearing your pleasure.

"Yeah, baby?" He panted in your ear. "That feel good?"

You whined.

"You feel so fucking wet for me, so fucking perfect. Been dreaming about this pussy. It's been haunting me, goddamn it baby."

He pulled his fingers away, and you nearly sobbed. Barely conscious of your surroundings, you acquiesced as he moved you to the sink, legs spread and dangling over the edge. Jimin looked up at you as he dropped to his knees. He pulled your legs over his shoulders. You threw your head back once more as he peppered kisses up the inside of your thighs, whispering small praises the whole way.

As he approached your center, he pulled away. You looked down at him. He moved in closer to your heat and inhaled. You cried out.

"Jimin, please, oh my god, do something. Anything. Oh my god."

"Yeah baby, want me to taste you? You smell so good. So ready for me. All for me."

The last sentence came out under his breath, like a prayer, as he pulled one hand away from holding your leg to push your panties to the side. You capitulated entirely when his tongue licked from your opening to your clit, dragging your wetness along with it. Wanton noises began to pour from your mouth when he attacked your clit in full force. Your body stopped being yours and began to melt into a sea of pleasure. 

You wanted it to last. You wanted to stay forever wrapped in the intimate ecstasy that had filled the bathroom and nearly suffocated you. Jimin felt like heaven between your legs, and you began to pray to Gods that you didn't believe existed that he would never leave.

For his part, he kept dropping praise for you between attacks on your pussy. 

"I'm so fucking hard, goddamnit. I want to fuck you so bad, but not here. Need you to scream my name when I fuck you. When I paint your pretty pussy white." Tears fell down your cheeks, back arched. "Shit baby, you know I'm gonna have to mark you as mine."

Pleasure shot up your spine, and you writhed in his grip as you finally found your peak. Your mouth was open in a silent scream while Jimin kept on dutifully licking you through the waves of your high. As you came down, you felt him crawl up your body, arms coming to wrap around your shaking torso and lips greeting yours.

You tasted yourself on his tongue as he licked into you. You moved to touch him through his jeans, cock pushing desperately against the fabric. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

"Not here," he whispered, "not here."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes. Even in the dim light, you could see just how blown out his pupils were. How much he wanted you. How much he was holding himself back from fucking you right here. 

You acquiesced and once again let him pull you through the club. He made an excuse for you both to the people you had come with, and then you were out in the cool air of the Paris night. Your high was crashing, and as much as you still wanted Jimin, the thought did little to prevent you from drifting off in his shoulder in the backseat of the town car. 

You blinked awake, sunlight heating up a hotel room that wasn't yours. You felt hot, and it took you a moment to recognize that a body was pressed up behind you, arm tight around your middle. The sound of Jimin's soft breath lulled you into a sleepy haze. 

You were in a T-shirt that was far too large for you. His, you assumed. Your panties clung to you, still wet from his ministrations the night before. The heat of his chest on your back suggested he was shirtless. He stirred behind you. You rolled over in his arms to find his eyes open.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hi."

"So…"

"Last night."

You looked in his eyes, then breathed truth.

"It wasn't the weed this time."

He kissed you. Slow but hard, like he was afraid you would disappear. He slowly rolled on top of you, his figure crowding yours, covering as much of you as he could. You pulled away from him, searching his eyes.

"It wasn't the weed last time either, was it?"

His words vibrated through you, and no part of you could say no to him. No part of you wanted to say no to him. Instead, you just nodded before pulling him back into you. His hands moved up your torso, under your shirt, while his lips embraced yours. His fingertips brushed the underside of your breasts, and you arched into his touch.

Pushing your shirt out of his way, his lips came down to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking gently while his hand came up to grope the other. Even with the weed gone, Jimin's touch was something euphoric. It was possessive without being rough. Soft, yet determined.

He grinded against you, his hard length catching against your core, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth.

"Oh fuck, please moan for me baby." He groaned. "Be as loud as you need to. Let the whole hotel hear you."

His voice was rough and pitched like he was struggling to hold onto his self-control. You felt his fingers trail down your sides before they were gripping your underwear and pulling them down your legs. You maneuvered your body to help them off before spreading your legs, opening yourself up for him.

The tepid air of the air-conditioned hotel room highlighted just how wet you were, while the vulnerability of being so spread left you dripping even more. Jimin groaned, kneeling before you. He was wearing his jeans from the night before, and his hand came down to his zipper while he drank in the sight of you.

"Do you know what the fuck you do to me?" The sound of his zipper crackled through the room like lightning. "Do you know what you have been doing to me? God, you make me feel like I can't breathe. Like if I can't sink into you at any given moment, I'm going to die."

Your fingers found their way to your clit, rubbing small circles as you took in his words.

"Fuck baby, you make me want to do desperate, heinous things to you. I want to mark you for the whole world. Prove to them you belong to me. None of those other men, whether you fucked them or not, are good enough. I'm not even good enough."

Your fingers rubbed faster, and you moaned his name when he finally pulled his cock free, naked beneath his jeans. He stroked it while he watched you touch yourself, eyes glued to your pussy.

"But your gonna let me have you, aren't you baby? I'm not good enough for you, but you gonna let me have you anyway. Because your so good for me."

 You nodded vigorously. He dropped his cock and leaned over you, taking your lips in his once more. You felt his tip brush over your pussy lips as he grinded into you, catching slightly on your opening. He mumbled something in your ear, but you were too lost in sensation.

He pulled away and repeated himself, "Protection?"

You shook your head.

"I'm on the pill."

Some part of you couldn't stand the thought of something coming between you and him. You needed him bare inside you. Jimin's eyes flashed at your response before he grabbed himself in his hand and sunk inside you. 

You moaned in synchronicity as he spread you open. You felt full as your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper in you.

"Oh god, Jimin, I'm so fucking full of you, oh my god."

Jimin nearly careened at your words, kissing you desperately while his hands tangled themselves in your hair. His hips began to pump more desperately. You pressed your pelvis up into him, pussy clenching as his pubic hair tickled your clit. The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure. His name began to fall from your lips as you felt a knot begin to build inside you. Jimin was seemingly doing no better. The feeling of your nails digging into his back brought more filth from his lips. 

"Are you gonna let me cum in you baby? Gonna let me mark you inside out. Make you so full of me. Carry me around inside you. Fuck, oh my god, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock."

You closed your eyes and let his words paint pictures. You pictured yourself full of him. Imagined what it would feel like to feel him drip from you. Your mind drifted, and then you imagined yourself full of him in a different way. Stomach round. Your breath hitched, you shouted his name, and then you came, trying not to think too much about the images sending you over the edge. 

Jimin nearly choked at the sensation of you cumming around his cock, needing little encouragement to spill inside you, your name dripping from his lips like a prayer.

You both stilled, his forehead resting against yours. You could feel him inside you still, pulsing slightly. Or was that you? You weren't sure. You felt boneless. You felt him whisper words, but sleep was once again coming to take you away.

When you awoke again, Jimin was sitting out on the balcony, sipping on a cup of coffee and scrolling through his phone. You sat up and looked around for your belongings. You found your purse on the bedside table and took out your phone. You saw several texts from your agent and some of the people from last night but quickly ignored them when you noticed the time. You were going to be late for your flight home.

You quickly rolled out of bed and padded over to Jimin. You were slightly unsure how to approach him, but the smile he offered you put you at ease.

"Um, I have to get going. I have my flight."

"Right, yeah, absolutely."

"I'll see you back state-side?"

You and Jimin were taking separate flights, as he was staying a few extra days to go visit a friend in the French countryside. 

"Yeah. Absolutely. Are you sure I can't get you a coffee or something to eat before you go?"

You shook your head. You wanted to kiss him, but something stopped you. Instead, you offered him a smile before returning to your own room.

It was a while before you saw him again. Both of your schedules were hectic, and the next time you saw each other was at the movie premiere. The car taking you picked him up first, and when you joined him in the backseat, you could immediately tell something was off.

He glanced up from his phone when you got in and gave you a small smile before returning to the screen. You tried not to think anything of it. You spent the duration of the car ride in silence. You desperately wanted to say something, but no words came to you. 

You managed to smile and wave well enough for the red carpet, trying not to compare how light his touch on your waist was compared to before. You were certain something had changed, and not in the way you had hoped. The movie itself passed by all too quickly and still not soon enough for your liking before you were once again shepherded into the back of the car to go to the official afterparty.

This time, you couldn't take the silence. You rolled up the divide between the backseat and the driver and then turned to face Jimin.

"What's wrong?"

Jimin looked at you, emotionless.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't bullshit me, Jimin."

"I'm not."

You raised an eyebrow. He sighed. 

"Please just leave it alone."

"That's not fair, Jimin. You don't get to have sex with me—pretty intense sex at that—and then ignore me like this."

He winced and then turned off his phone. His fingers tapped his thigh. He signed again.

"You're right."

You swallowed nervously, bravery gone and now replaced with a hollowing fear of what he was going to say.

"I've not been honest with you," he squirmed in his seat, "what we did…it shouldn't have…I shouldn't have done that."

He looked at you.

"Not because of anything you did. I want you to understand that. You haven't done anything wrong. I fucked up."

Your heart was slowly sinking into your stomach.

"I have a girlfriend."

The words rang out into the silent car. Your body froze, muscles cramped up. No thoughts could form in your brain.

 "No one really knows about her, and we like it that way. Keeps her from dealing with the bullshit all of this fame comes with."

Words were falling from his mouth now like he couldn't stop. And you wanted him to so desperately. Stop, that is.

"And I do genuinely like you. I always have. That's why I was such an asshat to you to start off with. Not because of your reputation, but because I wanted you. Badly. And I shouldn't have wanted you. I shouldn't want you now."

Tears were starting to form in your eyes. He kept going.

"And I should never have agreed to this arrangement. I was enabling myself. Setting myself up to do something stupid."

He paused, and you finally found your voice.

"Does she know?"

Jimin's eyes dropped to his lap.

"No. And I would like to keep it that way. I can't sleep with you again. I'm willing to finish out the terms of the PR campaign, she's agreed to that, but that's all I can offer you."

He finally went quiet. He looked at you like he was hoping you would say something to make it all better. Fuck that. You turned away. Watched the city lights blur past your window. Tried to find some thought that would stop your heart from shattering into a million pieces. 

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[yoongleboonglepie]

Pechsträhne Chapter 20

BTS OT7 x Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter playlist-Youtube music

Chapter Playlist-Spotify

Word Count Approx: 23k

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A/N: PHEW. She is here! Let's all give around of applause to my heating pads and ice packs that carried me through writing this, and the endless thunderstorms that watered my garden so I didn't have to. Love you all, and I'm seriously so excited for the next chapter, y'all don't even know what hit you😈😈

I apologize for any typos-I'll read over it for a third time later. I got new glasses and I keep forgetting to wear them LMAO.

Also I'm such a boomer, bc I'm going to post it on AO3 and the entire tagging system confuses the shit out of me. My wife is going to be teaching me the way around the site since I'm not fluent with it as a poster LOL

~Delyn

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recap:

“Have a nice trip, Yoongi?” Hoseok chuckled nervously, one of his hands coming up to swipe hair from sticking to his sweaty forehead. All four heads turned to him with varying levels of dissatisfaction–Yoongi’s fists clenched and released themselves at his side to keep himself from swinging one of them at him. 

“Shut up.” Yoongi bit back breathlessly, Namjoon and Jimin respectively sharing similar sentiments, their annoyance overlapping one another like a choir.  

“Not now, Hoseok.” 

“I suggest you remain silent for your own well being.” 

Hoseok scanned all of their faces with visible defeat etched into his features, stopping to take in Jungkook’s deadly glare before he closed his eyes and tipped his head to land on the floor below him with a thump. “Yeah, guess I deserve that.” 

Music crackled from the speaker table to Bear’s right, filling the ballroom that was vacant and lifeless with sound. The red drapes swooped down in elegant cascades of burgundy and wine and met the reflective golden surface in a clash of red and gold. The perfect mix of color brought forth memories of freshly trimmed pine trees and swiping more imported chocolates from overflowing dessert tables than his stomach could handle. But now all that it reminded Bear of was what he no longer had. The person he enjoyed spending those days with the most, flouncing around this very ballroom in the middle of the night before helping her line the gifts for her children out beneath the tree–almost all of them purchased by him–was gone. 

Grief wrapped around his heart and squeezed, limiting his breath until a choking sound escaped his mouth into the empty ballroom. He couldn’t find himself. He felt lost. His lifeline was the letter he clutched in his hands that was now peppered with damp spots from his hands that whipped across his cheeks more times than he could count.

And the worst of it all, was that he could tell no one–show no one of how this really felt. Not if he wanted to keep his head attached upon his own shoulders and his intestines pulsing within his middle instead of writhing on the floor. 

“Bear?” 

The ballroom door opened just a few inches, enough for a face still rounded at the edges with youth and a nose that resembled the person he wished to see the most. A stronger resurgence of emotion flooded through his system that he had to smother. 

Dorothea had always looked just like Patti. 

“What’s the matter, Dottie? Do they need me to come help clean up at the hotel?” Bear mopped at his face with his jacket sleeve, rushing to hide the extent of his misery from her keen tawny eyes that looked at him the same way Patti’s had; they both had a very specific way of using the observance of others as a guise to screen their own feelings. 

She shifted, one black dress shoe balancing behind the other and her face partially obscured from his view as she glanced about the empty room. She inherited everything from her mother: her dark curls, her complexion, her face shape–everything about her was a spitting image of her–a living memory of what was now gone. 

“No,” Dorothea finally answered, sounding just as shaky as he felt. “I just wanted to…” Her voice broke off and her shoulders cowered in on themselves, hands wrapping around her middle to soothe herself. “I just wanted a hug.” 

Bear was on his feet the moment the first sob left her mouth, his own emotions clouded to focus on hers. He engulfed her in his arms and felt the way she broke. Just sixteen, and here she was saying goodbye to her mother–what right did he have to wallow when the children needed him the most. 

“I got you Dottie.” Bear whispered, pressing her into his shoulder and letting her lean on it as he pondered what led her creeping back up the path  to him and not Duane. Though he likely knew the answer, he wanted to have some kind of hope. “Where’s your old man? You know he could probably use one of these as well.” 

Dottie sniffled, and brought her face back up to meet his gaze. “He’s at the bar.” 

That was an answer enough. While Duane had every reason to drink, he had three children to worry about first–a thought that had rage pooling in his belly and gnashing its teeth at his heart. Bear knew if he spoke, it would be unkind. Thus he just held her close to release some of her own strife onto his jacket. 

After a few moments, Bear swallowed down the tightness in his throat and tried his best at offering words of comfort. “You know, he’s trying–” 

“Don’t.” Dorothea cut him off, silencing any further effort. “He’s trying but it’s not enough.” 

Bear couldn’t even fight her words, for they were the blatant truth that he himself believed. Even at the funeral that morning, Johan held little Henry tucked into one side, and Dorothea in the other–he was shorter than his father, but he was twice the man in Bear’s eyes. Bear made a mental note to try and check on both brothers later in the evening. Henry was not yet ten years old, and his own father hadn’t even held him during one of his hardest moments. Johan may be in his early twenties but he was nonetheless a child in Bear’s eyes, and was just as deserving as a hand to hold. He deserved a father as much as the rest of them. 

Bear opened his mouth to speak, but Dorothea didn’t let him. “Please don’t defend him. Not today.”

“What shall I say then?” Bear offered quietly, waiting for her to leave the hug first–you would never catch him being the first to let go. 

“You shall be honest. Say how awful he was and has been!” Dorothea pulled her face from his shoulder to wipe aggressively at her eyes, her eyes burning with passion. “Say the truth! She is dead and still he had nothing special to share. I want to hear something real about her–not some generic eulogy about love and grace.” 

Bear sighed and ran the tip of his tongue over his lip apprehensively, holding her stare, too afraid to speak in fear he would say the wrong thing. 

“I know,” Dottie’s eyes shined up at him with unshed tears, her words wet and earnest. “We know. I want to hear about her from you.” She used her hand to slip the sheet of paper from his pocket that held Patti’s final goodbyes to him in the air between them. A physical embodiment of the secret being unleashed out into the open. 

The dam had been released, all of his feelings of guilt and horror pouring out of him as he crushed her to him.  “I’m so sorry,” He choked out with a gasp. “This isn’t how you should’ve found out…” 

Despite both of their predicaments, Dorotea managed a small meek laugh and shook her head. “Don’t be silly. We’ve known since we were children.” 

“What?” Bear managed a chuckle of his own through his burning shame, wiping a fresh tear. “Was it that obvious?” 

“Very,” Dorothea gave him a bittersweet smile, her chin crumpling into shapes as it shook. “I never saw her happier unless it was with you.” 

Bear tried to smile but it came out more of a grimace, and the backs of his eyes burned with a new wave of saltwater. “Are you angry with me?” 

“Not at all,” She shook her head with a shrug. “If anything I’m grateful. Life would have been a lot worse without you here.” 

“Don’t say that! Duane was–” 

“I said don’t defend him today.” Dorothea held a finger up to his lips with a look that dared him to continue. “Not when you know full well who painted our nurseries, tucked us in at night, helped with our homework, came to all of our recitals, and sat with us each night at the dinner table. Because it wasn’t him.” 

Bear couldn’t speak. 

It really was that obvious. 

He finally settled on something truthful, something he had never spoken aloud to anyone but finally let himself utter now. “I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. Not when I know he has it in him to do better. I don’t leave anyone behind. Especially not family–not the ones I love.” 

Bear led them out of the ballroom and up to the rooftop terrace, the two of them reclined in patio chairs with their black attire standing out amongst the vivid shades of the summer blooms. He told her of everything he could remember of Patti–her resilience, her laugh, her favorite foods and what dress she liked to wear the most (even though she already knew that one). He told tales of the day he first met her, of her pregnancy with Johan and how he used to make her shoo fly pie with sliced strawberries on the side because it was one of the only things she could stomach during her first few months pregnant. He shared how the first time he had made it had been within his first few days back home after a long while away. He had served everyone a slice after supper, and watched as her eyes light up after the first taste hit her tongue. That one slice hadn’t been enough it seemed, because she had come to find him in the study far past midnight with a nervous smile and a belly hungry enough for two, starving for his creation of molasses and sugar and topped with vanilla ice cream. He had no choice but to oblige the moment he laid eyes on her standing in the door way, looking at him so.

That night the two of them stayed in the kitchen until dawn as he prepared her a new pie entirely of her own. It was the first night he had heard her laugh freely–the first time he had felt the warmth in his chest of a newly kindled affection for her.

Bear and Dorothea were still crying, but not for the same reasons as before. These tears were now warmed by their shared love of one of the best women they knew, not by just the shadow of her loss. It wasn’t long before Johan and his girlfriend found them, Henry’s lanky form trailing between them with one hand held up by the couple.

 Margaret was his long term girlfriend who had made a habit of coming around the house as often as possible as of late. And while from first glance she seemed rather rigid and inflexible, religious (which Johan was definitely not), and strict in behavior–she was kind and headstrong with the intelligence to match. When the two of them were together it was like watching a scale tip into balance, seesawing back and forth as the weight evenly distributed into a perfect equilibrium.  Johan softened her edges, while she toughened his. 

Bear had a feeling he would be seeing her around the estate long after the the night ended. 

 The new addtions found their own seats, Henry tucked on Bear’s lap with his head buried in his neck and his small arms wrapped around his shoulders and Johan and Margaret curled and posed on the floor next to one another–and the five of them (after Henry had dozed) continued to share their favorite memories of their mother until the sun had started to set and the breeze began to cool. 

Hurried footsteps on the stairs and labored breathing were the welcoming the fanfare for Youngho’s abrupt entrance, stopping once he spotted Bear and the children all circled around one another. Their conversation died out at his abrupt entrance, all heads turning to greet him. 

He smiled, tense and riddled with discomfort. He gave everyone a short wave before beelining over to Bear and bending at the waist to whisper in his ear, sliding a piece of torn notebook paper into his awaiting hands. “I suggest you guide the children away from here–quickly.” 

Bear stiffened as he thumbed the paper, scanning the large blocky capital letters that ran from one edge to the other. 

 “Squirrel ate a bad nut–stomachache. We need pollen and sunshine. – J&S” 

Bear regarded Youngho with concern. “What kind of ill are you implying?” 

“All of it.” Youngho sighed, voice low enough to be kept between them, rising with a hand on his hips and red rimmed eyes facing the children to address them kindly. “I heard they are serving pie and ice cream in the dining room shortly, came to find you and give you all a heads up.” 

“Thanks…” Johan wearily eyed both Bear and Youngho, scrutinizing their interaction as though under a microscope. He found Bear’s eyes, and nodded curtly as if sensing the tension, rising to his feet from his seat and tugging Margaret up with him. “I think we should go. We’ve been stowed away from the guests for quite some time now.” 

He helped his sister up to follow, and went to scoop Henry up from Bear before the four of them took the steps at a slow pace, Dorothea casting sidelong glances back at Bear with worry etched into her features until she had disappeared down to the balcony. 

Bear waited until he was sure they were out of earshot before his smile wiped from his face, and he turned to Youngho with urgency. “How bad?” 

“Bad.” Youngho affirmed, leading him into the attic to rush down through the dark cramped walls and down the stairs into the right hall of bedrooms. It would be best if the they avoided the children from here on out.  

Bear kept up with the taller man’s nimble speed easily, taking the stairs two at a time and shutting the door behind them. “Where?” 

“The Adelaide. Seonggi is already with him.”

The Adelaide–like the rest of the hotel–had been closed and vacated for the day as was customary when the family was in mourning, making their speedy pace through the front doors and lobby much easier than it would have been otherwise. Bear and Youngho skidded to a halt outside the closed doors of the Adelaide where Seonggi stood ramrod straight, an image of perfect professionalism to anyone that didn’t know him well enough to recognize the tension pinched between his shoulder blades and brow. 

The moment his almond eyes found the two of them, they visibly relaxed and he ran a hand through his cropped hair. “Lord have mercy, where have you been?” 

“I was with the children.” Bear caught his breath easily, giving the door a look of disgust. “They needed someone to be there for them.” 

“Well they are lucky it wasn’t him,” Seonggi began to unwind the lock he had placed on the outside of the door, presumably to keep Duane in, not them out. “Things really have taken a turn for the worst. First Adelaide and now Patti–we are outnumbered.” Seonggi turned his face skywards and sighed, as though gathering the strength from god himself before sending a pointed glance Bear’s way. “Don’t make it worse.” 

He tugged a bell from his pocket, waiting for the other two men to do the same. Bear tried not to let his remark get under his skin, but it was hard not to. This had nothing to do with Bear’s choices but everything to do with Duane’s own. He refused to take the blame this time.

Once the cool cylinder’s of metal were lodged in their fists, they shared one last look of courage before Seonggi placed his palm on the door handle, not quite getting to push before a voice called out to them from the hall. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Margaret, Johan’s girlfriend stood with both hands on her hips at the end of the entrance hall, one black shoe tapping on the rug beneath her feet expectantly. It took a moment for the men to respond, shared looks of uncertainty saying enough for them.

“This is hotel business. Please return to the Estate to partake in the food and drink provided.” Seonggi gave the brightest smile Bear had ever seen, like he was talking to a customer and not a friend. 

She sized the three of them up, quirking one eyebrow at the excuse, and both arms coming up to cross over her front. “Hotel business? The hotel is closed.” 

A vein in Seonggi’s neck twitched, but he withheld his smile, shifting the bell into his pocket to wave at her dismissively. “That you are right it is. However, some things still need to be taken care of even when no guests are around to enjoy it.” Youngho and Bear shared a nervous glance when a thud sounded from within the restaurant, but Margaret was too far to hear it. 

“If you are to sin enough to tell a lie, at least make it a worthwhile reason to repent.” Margaret started down the hall and stopped just beside them much to their chagrin, and gave them each an individual once over. “So I shall ask again: what are you all doing here? 

Spunk. She had spunk that made the corners of Bear’s lips quiver upwards even on a day as terrible as the one he was having. He quite liked her, he decided, and an idea so absurd it made his heart thrum in his chest came to his mind. 

Seonggi’s eyelid twitched involuntarily, and he tried to give her another sweet smile that had begun to look a bit too forced. “Miss, it would be best–” 

“Are you going to marry him?” Bear interrupted Seonggi, addressing Margaret directly with all the seriousness he could muster. “Johan–do you intend to marry him?” 

The young woman looked quite taken aback, a hand coming up to fidget with the string of pearls around her neck with squinted eyes. “Perhaps.” 

Bear let his military persona take hold of him, his eyes lasering in on her features and his demeanor shifting from friendly to one that meant business–a demeanor he barely ever used at home. “I asked you a question. Do you intend to marry my-” my son. Bear cut himself off, his tongue nearly slipping with a word he knew he shouldn’t say. Though he knew if anyone deserve to, it would be him. “-my nephew.”  He corrected himself swiftly, barely a beat passing between it. 

Margaret met his stare with one of her own that was just as powerful. “I do so hope to, sir.” 

Bear examined her closely for any sign of dishonesty, his well trained eyes finding none. He chewed on the tip of his tongue, the gnaw of the muscle instinctual as he  weighed his choices and the gravity of what he was about to ask of her. If what she said was true, then she would be the next lady of the Estate, thus taking on the role Patti had held for many years prior–but she would have no one to teach her of the role she was to take–the parts that had remained invisible to most until the more recent years would have to be learned on the job. Pieces of it would remain forgotten, as parts of it were even forbidden for Patti to share with him–lost to time and sickness. He prayed they would do without, and even as the prayers made their rounds within his mind he knew they were weightless. 

“Take this,” Bear tossed her his bell which she caught effortlessly, peering down at the metal dubiously. 

“Bear!” Seonggi hissed through his teeth, trying to garner his attention but failing to do so.

Margaret looked back up at Bear quizzically, one eyebrow raised in question. “A bell?” 

“Yep,” Bear nodded, turning back to the door and readying himself to enter. “Welcome to the Wörner’s. Usually the lady of the house would teach you this, but as you are well aware she is dead, so you will have to hit the ground running. Hope you don’t mind the head start–but desperate times call for desperate measures.” 

Seonggi looked at Bear with wide, scandalized eyes. “Barrett Wörner!” 

There was an ear splitting crash from the other side of the door as though a shower of glass had rained down from within, and she let out a small gasp through parted lips, clutching the bell tightly in her fist. Bear stared at her expectantly, awaiting a proper answer. Finally she turned to him,  giving the bell a gentle shake in her fist and eyes aglow with determination. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

Bear managed a half-hearted grin. She really was growing on him already. 

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“Twenty seven!” A man’s voice bellowed out in astonishment. “Why–that’s practically all of them!” 

Four little girls huddled in a half circle in front of a plush red armchair, their hands all outstretched in offering to the man seated within it, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. In their tiny palms was an assortment of chocolate candies, all of them beginning to melt and smear onto their skin. 

“It is what you asked for!” One of the girls cried out, giggles pouring from her chest and her feet unable to hold themselves still. 

“What you asked for!” the girl next to her repeated her phrase–albeit in a bit clunkier manner than the first–and held her own fist of sweets closer to the man's face. 

Y/n blinked slowly, watching the scene unfold in front of her the same way as one watches trash television, like she was watching but not really seeing. 

She had watched this scene roughly eight times now from her spot against the living room wall. It would start with Ernst sitting hunched in the arm chair, a newspaper in his fist with the back door propped open to let in the warm early spring air; a cigar would be pinched between his lips as he hummed along to the headlines he skimmed. 

After approximately thirty seconds or so (Y/n started counting by her third viewing), a gaggle of four young girls all dressed in vintage dresses speckled with dirt would come thumping into the living room with fists held high in triumphant victory with their stolen delicacies. Two of them Y/n vaguely recognized as Louise and Madeline from her late night family tree studies–Candida’s two daughters. The other girls Y/n recognized immediately as one of the first Kim daughters, and next to her was someone Y/n had almost forgotten about: Ani. But Y/n felt like she had forgotten about everything anyways–was she supposed to care about Ani? Something pinging in her mind told her she should. 

They would offer him the chocolates, he would guffaw and wink at them before splitting them up for them all to share by the time Philomena would come barreling around the corner like a steam train with smoke billowing out from both ears, calling for Ernst in a tone Y/n recognized all too well–as she had been on the receiving end of it from the countless women in her life as a child. Then the scene would end as the children left him in the dust with chocolate smeared on his chin to be scolded by his wife for the thievery. Sometimes it would immediately restart, and other times she got to see something else. 

This was one of those times it seemed that they were giving her a break. 

Ah yes. 

The grassy field. 

Now this one Y/n had only gotten to see twice so far, and it was quite short and boring in her eyes. 

Dogs, a pack of four of them–maybe five–would bounce through the tall grassy fields with their tails pointed and noses twitching with the thrill of the hunt. Behind them trailed a small group of men with hunting rifles strapped onto their backs as they chased after the canines with sweat beaded brows. Y/n counted the men: there were three of them. 

By the time one of the dogs bounded past Y/n, the scene would vanish and she’d be back in the living room, listening to Ernst hum pensively and thumb the corner of the newspaper he held in his fingers. 

She waited for the girls to come in, straining her ears for the tell tale sign of their small feet running down the hall from the kitchen. 

And they came just as expected–this time she counted twenty seven seconds. 

Y/n let her head loll to the side, and enjoyed the view of the backyard from the open door, admiring both how little and how much had changed. She couldn’t remember what she had done to get here. She couldn’t remember much at all–but had she said that already? Her brain felt muddied, like a river that a group of hikers had waded through, kicking clouds of dirt and substrate into the waters as they went–except the water was her mind, and for once it wasn’t racing fast enough to clear the waters up. 

She listened to the girls' excited breaths as they waited for Ernst to count out the chocolates, her eyes trained on the sway of a tree on the horizon and a small bird that chittered from branch to branch. The smell of trees, spring blooms and fresh forest air billowed in from outside, inviting her out into the sun–though Y/n knew she only had seconds before the scene would restart and any distance she walked would be mute.

Well, she guessed she hadn’t tried to walk anywhere. But why try? The scenes were enough entertainment for the time being. Something sharp and aromatic carried over the wind, and she blinked, searching for the little wisp that she had gotten. It was so familiar…

“No, I don't know what a spell bag is. The fuck is this–Halloween Town?” 

Y/n jerked off the wall, her head whipping about in all directions for the familiar voice that had broken through the sounds of the girls devouring the treats with excited squeals. 

Another voice, equally as familiar responded to the other. “Don’t be a smartass. Give it to me–here just grab the-” there was a pause followed by a heavy sigh and an intense scent of roses choked Y/n’s senses. “Great. Now you’ve done it.” 

Y/n knew those voices, they stirred something in her chest that made her eyes water unwillingly. She spun in circles to find the source–the old red living room and her ghostly companions oblivious to the intrusion. 

A sneeze stopped her in her tracks–for Ernst had been the one whose head jerked forward with the outburst. Y/n watched as he did something he hadn’t done in all of the nine times she had watched it play out: he took a handkerchief from his pockets and held it to his nose as a second sneeze overcame him. 

Ernst turned his head to the side to discard it onto the end table, his eyes passing over where Y/n stood bouncing right back to her in astonishment. They maintained eye contact, both of them equally as shocked to see one another. He opened his mouth to say something but the scene disintegrated before he could get a single word out. 

Y/n was dropped onto the front lawn beneath a bright hot sun in a new scene that she had yet to watch as of yet. One of her hands came up to block the light from blinding her vision, making the surroundings sharper, the details familiar as though looking at one of her own memories. 

She had seen this before–but it wasn’t necessarily her memory. 

It was as though she had been dropped into one of the photos that was hung up at the historical society–the lines of children with their stick weapons drawn at the ready in battle. Everyone was in place: Leon was reclined on the front steps, lower legs gone and in the hands of his children. The women sitting off to the side with babies on their laps looked with a stern press of their brow as though waiting with a scold already perched on their lips. 

Bear was–wait. Bear was gone. 

The place where young Bear should have stood was empty, but the leg in Duane’s hand was still gesturing at the empty spot with squinted eyes. Leon quipped out a sharp whistle and the children’s fighting commenced without care for Bear’s absence.

They moved as though Bear was still there–dodging from invisible attacks and lunging at something unseen. 

Children screamed with laughter and over dramatic battle cries that felt comforting and familiar, and the sun was warm on her skin. Y/n sat herself on the stairs and peered up at the clouds distractedly–had she been looking for something? Why was her heart racing? It surely wouldn’t hurt to sit and watch the children play…

“He’s literally the opposite of a goblin if he has a vacuum cleaner in his room.” 

“I’d say he would be a brownie if he was any sort of household creature.” 

“What even is that? Is that some DnD thing?” 

There was a sputtering noise from someone’s mouth before one of the voices cried out in defense. 

“You’re acting like you’ve never read a fantasy book. We literally all read Spiderwick and Lord of the Rings together!” 

“Focus please, all of you! We can discuss Jungkook’s creature status later!” Y/n felt something soft on the skin of her palm and a comforting weight settled between her fingers. “We all know Jungkook would be a barbarian anyways…” 

Y/n shot to her feet–Yes! The voices! She knew them! 

She turned abruptly, her memory trying to squeeze up into her consciousness as she ran up the front steps and pushed through the front doors. While her memory was still hazy, she was able to pull up the urge to run back to her room which was–Her feet came to a slow stop in the entranceway, the red drapes and carpet surrounding her felt wrong. 

Where was her room again? 

Music floated from the study, the chirping of a flute, the singing of a violin and the low timbre of a cello all swirling with one another in a uniformed swell. Y/n stole a peek through the study doors, but the room was empty–only sound emanated from the space from phantom musicians. 

A stronger floral smell engulfed her, planting stakes into the folds of her brain and making them pulse with the start of a headache. 

“Lavender is usually used for sleep, but it can also be an effective cleansing herb. I don’t care if I have to use up my entire greenhouse stash–we will keep trying.”

Y/n was standing still one second, and the next she was running. Up the stairs and following the scent of lavender to the right hand side of the landing and straight down the hall. As the doors sped past her, the hall grew darker as though the sun had fallen from the sky and the moon had shot up to take its place. 

She was almost there–her friends–she needed to get to them to tell them…something. The smell led to the second to last door, and she grabbed the handle to give it a strong twist, shoving it open and out of the way. 

Yoongi’s bed was scattered with dried rose petals and a pot of dried lavender was smoldering on his bedside table. Her friends were spaced about the room on whatever surface they could fit–hands all busy rooting through glass jars of plant matter and seeds Y/n recognized from the greenhouse as some of Namjoon’s collection. 

Y/n made a move to run straight to them, to her body that lay lifeless on his comforter next to Jimin’s head that he rested on folded arms next to her with his fingers playing with the stiff digits on her own hand. The only indicator that he was stressed was the steady bounce of his knee and the can of soda next to the lavender pot.  

“I’m right here!” Y/n cried out to him, and she watched as Jimin’s head snapped to face her with wide eyes unseeing–searching for her. 

Then she was back in the living room with Ernst humming at the headlines on the daily paper, smoke snaking from the tip of his cigar and drifting out the open back door. She had twenty seven seconds until the girls would come in and share their hoards. 

Twenty seven seconds is all she had to run back up the stairs. 

She ran full speed down the halls, passing the children as they made their escape with their stolen treats from the kitchen and taking the stairs two at a time as they appeared. The hall was darker than before, nearly black with shadow this time as she ran wildly back towards Yoongi’s room with just the scent of lavender, roses and sage to guide her.

“No!” Someone howled out from behind her, startling her to trip over the threshold and sprawl onto the carpet. The floor fell out from beneath her like a trap door and her stomach lurched into her throat with a scream as she plummeted through the main floor straight into the basement; the piles of old furniture and children’s toys breaking her fall. A cloud of dust had her waving her hand in front of her face to relieve her airways of the particles that choked out her breath. 

“One more lap mother! Just one more lap please!” 

Y/n sat up straight on the soft blue blanket that was sprawled out beneath her upon the grass, a few blades that escaped from the fabric tickling the skin of her ankles and making them itch. 

“Alright then–just one more! Then we have to return home for supper!” The woman to her right waved back to the girls that splashed about the lake with glee, sending them off on another sprint across the water. A towel was draped over her own lap and her hair was shoved up into a swim cap to keep it dry, one hand lined up on her brow  as she carefully watched the young children paddle the width of the lake. 

Y/n got to her knees and waved a hand in front of the woman’s face, but she had no reaction to the movement or proximity. Y/n was invisible–at least for the time being–for she was invisible to Ernst too until the unexplainable few seconds when she wasn’t.

“Can you help me? I need to get back home–to the Estate. I need to find my friends…” Y/n tried speaking to the woman, who had about the same amount of notice as she had prior: none.  She brought her fingers up to tap at her shoulder, and the woman was solid and warm, the flesh dimpling beneath her touch and bouncing back into place as a real person’s would. 

Y/n furrowed her brows, and pressed her palm to the skin of the woman’s upper arm–for the skin was hot like she was developing a maddening fever. “Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know if you can hear me but…I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should have come back the first day we talked on the phone. I should have hung up and jumped on the first flight back. Just keep fighting to get back here. We can figure this out together….you know…stick together and all that crap.”

A featherlight sensation traced across Y/n’s forehead and down the skin of her cheek, moving down to tickle at the skin of the back of her hand, and her heartbeat hammered in her ribs as something soft and hot pressed to the back of her knuckles. 

“I’m right here. I’m not going to let you stay in there–I will find a way to fix this.” 

The woman turned robotically to Y/n, her eyes raking over her face and a scowl forming on her features and hissing through her teeth. “You are going to get us all in trouble if you keep doing that!” 

Dogs bounded in front of her. Three men carried the rear of the pack, trudging through the tall grass under the unforgiving sun. The woman and the lake were gone. Y/n clutched at her head, squeezing her skull between it like if she pressed hard enough she would be able to squish her sanity back in place. 

“I’m not mad at you.” This voice was quieter than the last, merely a whisper that was broken and molded around a carefully constructed air of composure that was crumbling. “I know you think I am, but I’m not. I just…I need you here.” 

Her entire left side was warm, but not uncomfortably so. It felt safe, and brought forth the scent of clean linens and fresh smelling body wash–the weight shifted but the warmth stayed, her cheek feeling hotter than before like it was pressed to a furnace. 

“‘ In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’

Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her followed…’” 

“I can’t understand who in their right mind would think their lover’s silence is anything but awful.” She heard a tsk, and a soft chuckle before something warm pressed to her temple. “I think silence from you is the worst thing imaginable.” Pages fluttered, and the gentle voice continued to read forth more from the pages of what she recognized as Pride and Prejudice that she could no longer hear.

Y/n’s head spun as she was thrust back into the living room, Ernst mumbling to himself absentmindedly around his cigar that burned bright orange at the tip. The voice was gone but she knew where to find it. 

Twenty seven seconds. 

Y/n pumped her arms and legs, kicking up the red rug beneath her feet and tearing up the stairs down the hall. 

“I can feel you. Can you feel me?” Long fingers squeezed down around her own. “I will come find you. There’s no place they could hide you from me where I wouldn’t reach you.” 

Sage. Y/n smelt sage and Frankincense, and she clung to it blindly even as the hall shrouded into darkness that threatened to drop her down into the basement or throw her into whatever scene they wanted next. She willed herself forwards until she was practically flying through the door, ignoring the way the shadows extended outwards to catch her from the walls, floors and ceilings; curling up her ankles and grappling for her arms as they passed. 

Y/n leapt blindly onto the bed, sailing over the threshold and bouncing onto the mattress, the smell nauseatingly strong but oh so inviting. 

_________________________________________

“Can someone pass me the Rosemary?” Namjoon’s voice blotted in from a distance, bleeding through what felt like mounds of cotton blocking Y/n’s ear drums. 

Her entire body felt as though encased in cement, each muscle and tendon weighed down and immobile, like they weren’t connected to her brain. Y/n attempted a single twitch of her finger and found the motion impossible. She could not even open her eyes. 

There was a barely audible rustle of leaves, and an overwhelming aroma wafted over her face that would make even the most repleted metaphysical shop jealous, pulling whatever moisture was left from her skin until a slight stinging sensation buzzed on its surface.. Each inhale scratched at the insides of her airways, and her lungs struggled to expand like the movement was foreign to her–and perhaps it was. Someone squeezed her hand again, stopping just at the point where the pressure might start to hurt. 

Jungkook breathed, and relief wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how he spoke. “It’s working…”

The smoke grew thicker, and her throat dryer with each passing second. She swallowed, the saliva thick and sharp as knives scraping done her esophagus, forcing her to repeat the motion in rapid succession. 

Hands brought forth the lingering smell of antibacterial hand soap and lemon scented cleaner splayed across both sides of her face and held it still. Thin wisps of hair tickled her cheeks, and a forehead pressed against hers. 

“Come back.” Jungkook commanded softly, sparks pulsing from the tips of his fingers and tickling her skin, melting the cement on her limbs and bringing a wave of goosebumps over the expanse of her body. 

Y/n moved her pinky finger, then her pointer finger even more so. It was no grand movement, or even considered much of a movement at all–but it was enough to elicit a response from nearly everyone in the room–the energy around them all charging and buzzing around them even though all outbursts were silenced by Namjoon’s authoritative command and willing them to remain quiet. 

Jungkook gasped quietly and his hands started to shake, his breath quickening as nearly silent curses fell from his lips–he was pulling her forwards and willing her awake, willing her to open her eyes. 

He was the first thing she saw simply because of his nearness alone, though she would’ve imagined she wouldn’t have seen much else anyway as his eyes demanded her attention, her own drawn to them like magnets. How grateful she was to see his eyes glistening and full of life in front of her.

In an instant she froze, bristling at the sight of their reflective surface and bracing herself for the worst–for Candida to be there waiting for her to let her back in. But there was nothing but herself, tired and worn looking back at her. 

Y/n tossed the blanket off in a hurry, startling Jungkook away from her face and sending him leaping back and out of her reach as her feet touched the floor. She didn’t even think to look at the worried faces that surrounded her or their layered voices telling her to do something–sit down? She wasn’t sure. All she could think about was the mirror in the corner of Yoongi’s room and how it faced her. 

She stumbled like a newborn giraffe using its legs for the first time as blood began to flow back into them, they still felt heavy but she couldn’t let it stop her–she needed to check. 

It was only a moment that she had in front of the mirror. A split second of uninterrupted time where she was able to breathe with just her own reflection staring back at her in the mirror–and as disheveled and unkempt as she looked, she had never been happier to see herself as such. 

Hot tears pooled in her eyes that she couldn’t stop from dripping down her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to look at something and not be scared of what she would see–the nearly two weeks of Candida haunting her every move feeling like an eternity. 

The second of peace ended when Namjoon appeared looking equally fatigued behind her, the bundle of rosemary still smoking in his hand. “Y/n, you should really lay back down. You were out for a long time and you need to take things slow.” 

Right as the words left his mouth she felt the stiffness in her joints make itself known, and the fogginess of her brain that left her dizzy and teetering from one side to the other. But one thing that wasn’t present was the homicidal urges she had felt before she had–

Y/n gasped, feeling herself fall backwards towards the mirror with her hands bracing themselves for the impact that never came. 

Yoongi who was leant up against his desk closest to her was at her side in an instant, tucking an arm around her waist and throwing hers around his shoulder to keep her from falling into the mirror, Jimin following closely behind to do the same on her other side. 

“You have a really bad habit of not listening when someone tells you to slow down, don’t you?” Yoongi chided teasingly, though the light of his jest did not reach his eyes as they shuffled back to his bed. Namjoon followed closely behind them, constantly waving his hand in circular motions to guide puffs of smoke towards Y/n. 

Jimin bumped his hip against hers with a small curve of his lips. “You could just stop at ‘bad habit of not listening’.”

Y/n sniffled, both hands clasping down on either man’s shoulder like if she let go this dream of normalcy would shatter. They helped her fall back down onto the comforter next to Jungkook with a light bounce, and after a few beats of tense silence, she managed to rasp out her first words. “How long?” 

They shared a look of uncertainty that said all that she needed to know. 

“How long?” Y/n tried again, her voice still rough with underuse. 

Namjoon chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked down at her with a weary expression. “Two weeks. It’s almost June.” 

“W-what?!” Y/n blanched and wilted like the dried up rose petals below her. The time spent locked in those loops felt no longer than a couple hours at most. “That’s not possible. How am I not dead? I would’ve had to eat and drink.” Heat rushed into her face as embarrassment made her short circuit. “To pee–” 

“You weren’t completely out the whole time. Sometimes things would…come through.” Jimin offered, taking up the spot on her other side. 

As if reading her mind, Yoongi responded from back at his desk. “You were possessed. This isn’t the first time your body has come to with someone else taking the reigns. We’ve been mostly able to remove one of them–but the other is a bit more…complex.” 

“Candida is gone?” Y/n let hope color her expression as she glanced up at him. 

“No.” Jungkook answered this time, shaking his head once. “The ‘other’ one is gone. Candida is refusing to let go. She’s hiding.” 

Y/n brought her hands up to shield her face with her hands as more tears stung at the back of her eyes. The freedom she had thought she had felt was a false hope, and her breath threatened to quicken in her chest against her will. Jimin’s delicate fingers encircled her wrist and brought them down, intertwining their fingers in one and offering the other to Jungkook, who hesitantly took it, holding it loosely on his lap. 

“We still don’t know who the other one is,” Namjoon started with a sigh, plopping himself down on a folding chair they had propped next to the mattress. “They left as soon as Jungkook started pushing them. We were hoping that you could give us some answers on that front.” He looked up at her expectantly, the bowl of embers and leaves cradled on his lap. 

“I don’t…” Y/n pushed the boundaries of her memory, poking and prodding at whatever her brain could muster with little reward. “I can’t really remember it’s all fuzzy. I remember coming back from the greenhouse…” Y/n shuddered at the memory, her chest tightening at the flashbacks of the vision she had seen, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on it–not when Yoongi was watching her so closely. “ And I remember sitting with my plants but that’s about–” Y/n gasped louder than she had when she had woken up, a new wave of grief settling over her. “My plants! Are they okay? I don’t remember putting them back, and two weeks is a long time without water…” 

The longer she spoke, the more her voice grew in strength, but the more unnerved Namjoon grew. He shifted in his seat as redness crept up his neck. “Well you see…your…you…” 

“We can check on your plants later,” Yoongi offered with a pointed look at Namjoon. “If you really can’t remember anything then there is something else we can do…you just might not like it.” 

“What is it?” Y/n shrunk in on herself. “The last time we tried one of your exercises it didn’t go very well.” 

“Exercises?” Jungkook repeated, glowering up at Yoongi with lips pressed together tightly. “What exercises?” 

“Not important right now,” Yoongi waved his hand dismissively at the younger one, fixing Y/n with an unreadable expression. “While you were out, someone else decided to lend a helping hand. I don’t know if you remember seeing them–or if you remember coming to at all.” 

“I don’t think it wise to stress her out too much right away.” Jimin cut in, one of his eyes twitching. 

“Agreed,” Namjoon dragged a large hand down his face. 

“Well that isn’t really a decision when it comes to this. If you think he’s going to stay away you all really are dense.” Yoongi scoffed with a disbelieving shake of his head. “We can approach some things carefully, but not everything can be handled with tweezers and CareBear bandaids.” 

Y/n thought back to the voices she had heard clipping into her time loops, checking them each off of her list one by one. 

Jungkook and Yoongi had spoken to her multiple times–Namjoon too. Jimin had been the one reading to her, it was easy to recognize his melodic voice anywhere. But there had been five. 

“What even is that? Is that some DnD thing?” 

Just as the thought struck her, the same voice  pushed Yoongi’s door open, supported by the sound of groaning wood and jingling metal. “Alright, I picked up that stuff you wanted from the–” 

Hoseok’s words withered down to a croak in his throat as he closed the door behind him, a pair of leather driving gloves still pulled over his hands that carried a set of keys and a decently sized brown paper bag. Time stopped.  

“Get out!” Y/n shrieked, climbing over Jungkook’s lap towards the end table and grabbing the first thing she could–an empty soda can that had fallen onto its side on the end table–and chucked it at him. “Get out!” 

“H-hey, wait–oof!” Hoseok brought the bag up to shield his face from the projectile, dropping it just in time to catch a pillow straight to the face. 

Y/n leveled her next pillow at him before it was yanked from her grasp by a disgruntled Namjoon. “Give him a second!” He tossed the pillow across the room and pointed a finger at her when her eyes flickered to the last remaining cushion. “Don’t even think about it.” 

He snatched that one up too for good measure, and glared at the three other men that had made no move to get in her way. “Thanks for your help,” he gestured to Yoongi, Jimin and Jungkook with his chin, “not like you weren’t within arms reach or anything.” 

Yoongi shrugged and a teensy smirk made its way onto his lips and he pathetically attempted to raise his arm. “Eh. It was a long reach.” 

Jungkook almost smiled, and averted his eyes from Namjoon. “I was surprised. Sorry.” 

“Whatever.” Namjoon rolled his eyes and returned to his seat. 

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was seeing. None of them were responding appropriately to the situation–especially after what had happened at the guest house and the spring pop up. Fine, Y/n grit her teeth, she didn’t need a pillow to do her dirty work. 

Y/n clambered down from the bed and started at Hoseok with a clumsy charge that was stopped by Yoongi’s hands fisting in the back of her shirt. “As much as I would personally love to see you land a good hit on him, I think you should hear him out.” 

_________________________________________

Y/n’s back was pressed against the wall with her knees bent to keep a level of space between her and where Hoseok sat on the desk chair he had rolled a few feet away from the bed to hopefully ease her discomfort. (It didn’t by the way).  She was freshly showered and donned the fresh change of clothes Jimin and Jungkook had swiped from her room, with a spare comforter hugged to her chest that replaced Yoongi’s while it was sent down to be washed. 

Memories were beginning to come back to her, as was her mind and body connection. She hadn’t stopped shaking since her shower, the hot water had probably started to help her process her adrenaline and release pent up stress from her last days consciousness. While her last moments were still fuzzy she could feel the emotions of it returning to her all at once, and one thing was clear was that she was still angry with the sheepish man in front of her–no matter how guilty he looked. 

Hoseok had yet to speak. Each time his mouth opened to find his words, it snapped closed like they had escaped him, leaving them in a suffocating silence that was teeming with palpable tension. It was almost unbearable. 

Thankfully the two of them weren’t entirely alone in this silence; while the others had left to give her and Hoseok privacy, Yoongi had stayed back with the excuse that it was his room, and he could stay if he liked. Thus he sat on the fold out chair with a pair of over the ear headphones pulled over his head and a sketchbook open on his desk, his pencil gliding over the paper in quick handed sketches of trees and clouds from his window.  

Y/n was grateful for his presence–not only because she technically hadn’t gotten to greet him properly since his return, but also because it meant someone else was there to keep her from doing something rash if she felt cornered. 

“So…” Hoseok started weakly, clearing his throat behind a gloved fist. “The last time you spoke you said–” 

“I said not to talk to me ever again.” Y/n finished for him sharply, picking at the thread of the comforter and refusing to look at him. “I thought I made that pretty clear.” Y/n could’ve sworn she saw the corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirk up from the corner of her eye but she must have been imagining it.

Hoseok visibly paled, and hurriedly spoke again. “Yes–but you said I could talk to you again if I was willing to come clean.” The chair released repeated squeaks as his leg bounced uncontrollably, and he shifted his weight from one hip to the other. “And I want to do that.”

“Then do it? Who is stopping you?” Y/n smoothed the blanket over her knees again. 

Silence overtook them, even the bouncing of his leg stopped. “Can I show you instead?”  

Y/n finally looked up at him, taken off guard by his request. She feigned disinterest though her curiosity had been piqued, and gave him a brief once over before turning back to the blanket. “And how do you intend to do that?” 

Hoseok pinched the tip of his middle finger and slid the driving gloves off his hands and dropped them on his lap. He held his hands out between them with the unspoken expectation that she would take them, and from their vulnerable and suspended state she could see them shaking. He was nervous. 

“I’m going to try and control it, Yoongi and Jungkook have been letting me practice with them but…” He trailed off, eyes imploring her to believe him. “But sending is a lot harder than receiving.” 

“He was already vetted by the kid,” Yoongi offered from his seat without so much as a second glance. “Do with that what you will.” He flicked the one side of his headphones back on and disengaged from the discussion once more. 

Y/n flitted her gaze between Yoongi and Hoseok, and with Yoongi’s words in mind, she crawled forward across the bed and parked herself at the edge so her hands could reach across the gap and grab his. 

She felt an internal tug towards him similar to how it felt when Yoongi would swirl about her, but the sensations he brought were nothing like Yoongi. Hoseok was hot, his pull burning at her insides like a scalding cup of tea–bordering between painful and satisfying.Scenes like small movies crashed in and out of her vision one my one, pristine doctors offices, pill bottles, dark wooden cabin rooms with her mothers face towering over her, a little boy–

No. She was pulled away from the image of the little boy and thrust back into the doctor's office to look at a collection of x-rays and MRI’s, her eyes skimming the charts for key words. 

Fall. Injury. Surgery. Permanent. 

The boy was back, crawling through the dark in a room Y/n couldn’t make out–was that metal? Hoseok exhaled sharply and the scene changed. 

Her mother stood looming with a pill bottle snatched in her hands, and emotions raced through her chest that weren’t her own–desperation, helplessness, self-hatred–trapped. She watched a collection of scenes come forth of Hoseok’s hands grasping whatever her mother tossed at him, and then her giving him a pill as a reward. She felt the relief. She felt the frustration. 

Then she saw something else that had her mouth running dry. 

She saw a view of herself walking out of the woods with Jin at her side, the two of them trailing up the front steps and disappearing into the front doors. After a few minutes she saw Jin leave alone, as though he had dropped her off inside. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn that night at the guest house. 

He let go of her hands once they began to sweat, and pressed them down on his thighs with a shaky sigh. Y/n’s hands lingered in the air for a moment, soaking in what she had seen and running it back through her mind like she was replaying a tape. 

“I don’t expect you to just forgive me. They all caught me up to date with…” He waved one hand in lazily circles. “Everything.” He cleared his throat and dropped his hand back to hang at his side, looking up at her through timid glances. “But I just want to say that I didn’t know what she was–If I had any kinda idea what she was doing with what I was seeing, I wouldn’t’ve done it. Please believe me. I know I shouldn’t have just blindly accepted but I just–” 

“You were hurting.” Y/n cut him off, her eyes trained on her lap. 

Hoseok turned his head down with a nervous twitch, leg shaking faster and his words falling out in a whisper. “Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Hoseok? Tell any of us? Do you think we would have made fun of you?” Y/n finally looked at him–really looked at him. How could she not have put the pieces together? His constant shifting, his tired looking eyes and his body that seemed to sag when he thought no one was looking. 

Hoseok took a second to line up his thoughts in a concise sentiment, clearing his throat again to cover up the slight grit in his tone as it closed. “No….I dunno…maybe.” He smiled at his lap with a humorless chuckle. “Maybe somethin’ in me thought if I kept it a secret then I wouldn’t have to face it. I could keep pretending.” 

“Pretending what?” Y/n scooched to the edge, hesitantly lowering one of her hands down onto his clothed knee. “Hoseok, you have always been one of the most important people in my life. I don’t care if you can’t dance, or if you can’t run–or if the way we spend time together changes entirely. Everyone changes. Look at all of us? We lost one of us entirely, gained someone new, went to school, got jobs, some of us traveled–we grew up. I don’t care how you change, I just wish you would’ve told me. Think about where we could’ve been–the shit we could’ve avoided if you had just been honest.” Y/n took in a deep breath and leveled him with a somber expression. “I’m not…I’m not mad at you for hurting. I’m mad at you for not telling me, and I’m mad at myself for making it feel like you couldn’t and that you had to turn to my mother of all people.” 

Something in Hoseok’s expression snapped, his upper lip curling with heat. “Y/n–let’s be serious here. Would me telling you have really changed that much? Even if you knew–your mom still would’ve been in charge of my insurance, my housing–my fucking job and my parent’s job.” Hoseok blinked aggressively to keep any wetness out of her sight. “I had nothing after you left–my future is fucking wiped, dude. Anything I wanted to do? Trashed. I can’t travel the same way everyone else can, I can’t work the same way they can, I can’t dance the way I used to…my life isn’t over technically sure, but my life as I knew it is. And I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to just embrace that with smiles and jokes yet. The only thing that was made certain to me was that I’m going to get left behind, and I just wanted to delay that as much as I could.” 

Y/n shook her head with a trembling lip and furrowed brows. “We wouldn’t leave you behind–” 

“But you did!” Hoseok cut back, voice cracking ever so slightly. “You literally fuckin’ left and didn’t look back once. I left you messages–so many messages that you never returned. Joon went to California and got to experience life on his own. Jimin just got his masters degree. Jin is set to take his dad’s job by next year and then he can do whatever he wants. Yoongi went off to New York and none of us expected him to come back. The only person who would've stayed with me would be Jungkook, but at least he can choose what job he wants. I’m just…here. Watching everyone else do whatever the fuck they want. 

“So yeah. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your parents made us lie to you. Trust me, I’ve beat myself up for it since the day you left. I’m sorry that your mom held power over me and that I couldn’t stand up for either of us. But we were all raised on the same foundation: ‘No one gets left behind’, and you were the first one to do just the opposite of that–to everyone over something that would’ve also threatened our livelihoods if we had pushed back. I could’ve talked to you? You could’ve talked to us about it first. Jungkook was in therapy for two years after you left with not even as much as a goodbye. Jimin pretty much became an empty shell until he started school. Everyone else dipped.  So what else was I supposed to do Y/n? What was I gonna do, say ‘Hey Mariah, I know you pay for all of my medications and treatments so I can exist barely below baseline function, my parent’s salaries, and all my friends are gone so I have no one else but you to support my care needs if I suddenly woke up bed ridden–but fuck you!’ with no back up plan?” 

Y/n’s mouth fell open in shock, he had never spoken to her like this before, and she couldn’t quell the self-defensive rage that pooled in her belly. 

“I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one-hundred percent honest with me,” Hoseok leaned forward to challenge her stare. “If I had showed up on your doorstep in D.C with an apology and suitcase, would you have let me in? If I told you about this, would you have forgiven me and helped take care of me, or slammed the door in my face?” 

Y/n snapped her mouth closed, her gut immediately rushing to answer with a resounding ‘Yes I would have let you in!’, but she paused. Would she have? When she was still nursing the wound their betrayal had left, and her remaining pride was stinging and raw? 

Y/n’s hackles lowered, and she slumped back against the wall again in defeat. “I don’t know.” 

“Exactly. And we all know who my mom’s favorite is…” Hoseok visibly deflated, and ran his fingers through his unruly hair that desperately needed a haircut. “Look, I don’t want to fight about it and compare who was hurt the most. What I’m just trying to get you to understand is that we both made the best choices we could for ourselves at the time we made them. We can’t just pretend the aftermath didn’t happen and that we didn’t hurt each other–but I wouldn’t expect you to apologize for how you handled your shit with the cards you were dealt, so why should I apologize for how I handled mine?”

The question hung in the air between them heavily and Y/n knew she didn’t need to answer. While his words stung–he did have a point. She had no idea what his situation was like, and might not ever understand what he was going through. They might not ever be able to understand where they were each coming from–but could they live with that? 

“So what now?” Y/n asked with a sniff, wiping at her eyes that had become wet. “How do we move past all this?” 

Hoseok shrugged, and chewed on his cheek as he stared at his fingers that twiddled in his lap. “We just do. We can’t fix it, so we just try and do better. I want to try and do better.” 

“Okay.” Y/n breathed, pointing at him with her index finger. “I don’t forgive you just yet, but I understand why you did what you did. From here on out, no more secrets. No more lying and no running away from each other.” 

“I think I can handle that,” Hoseok managed a small lopsided curve of his mouth, and his shoulders visibly sagged with relief. “Fuck–I hated you being mad at me.” 

“I still am.” Y/n gave the most threatening look she could muster, but couldn’t help the smile that tried to break through it. “You still worked with someone that was trying to kill me, and you made me angry. I need to work through all of that still.” 

“I’m booked through the week,” Yoongi suddenly butt in, turning in the chair to face the two of them, “so I think you’re going to have to find a new quack.” 

“Booked? By whom?” The smile did worm its way on her face.

Yoongi removed his headphones entirely and tucked them away in his drawer. Y/n had a sneaking suspicion that there hadn’t been any music playing on them throughout their entire discussion. “M’not sure. They signed their name as the annoying one on my schedule… ” 

Y/n snapped a finger in mock disappointment and clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Damn–couldn’t be me. You won’t even have ten minutes for little ‘ol me?” 

Yoongi slid his tongue across his lower lip before sinking his teeth into it with a playful smile and a wink. “Hmm…maybe if you ask nicely I’ll think about it.” With that he stood with an exaggerated stretch, earning a few pops from undisclosed locations. “Now that that is out of the way…” He picked up the chair and turned it to face them, plopping down next to Hoseok. “Let’s call the other guys back in to talk ghosts.” 

_________________________________________

Y/n felt stupid. So utterly stupid and used.

The six of them sat in a circle on Yoongi’s floor with intertwined hands, their first time as a full group doing a seance. This time they had Hoseok take the lead, using his powers to prod her mind (with consent of course) for her final memories on Thursday–forcing herself to watch her make terrible mistake after terrible mistake. 

Her memories were beamed into their skulls, and they all watched as Y/n glowed in humiliation as she tossed her incense out the window on the call with Yoongi, how she isolated herself–how she let in some random fucking ghost from the hallway like an amatuer. And to make that worse, they hadn’t been able to gather any useful information from the interaction whatsoever. 

They moved on to trying to pull Candida out of hiding to expel her entirely, but that remained a futile effort as she eluded them, disappearing into the deepest crevices of her mind and staying there. They sleuthed out her memories of seeing her–her bathroom, the ceiling lights, doorknobs, glass, the greenhouse…

Hoseok had almost replayed the mirages of violence and death from the greenhouse when she had begged them to take a break–she didn’t think she had the energy left in her to watch it again. She barely had the energy to hold her own head up despite having been in and out of consciousness for two weeks. 

It was so hard to describe–it was like she was looking back at those memories and the choices she had made from outside of her body. She couldn’t even fathom not telling them if she saw something now, or making the choices she did. 

She guessed that’s what possession was like. 

Nothing would have prepared her for the devastation she felt when they let her run back to her room with Jungkook and Jimin by her side for her phone charger, only to find a few of her plants smaller and more sickly than she remembered, their colorful pots nowhere in sight. Jimin tried to soothe her with warm embraces and comfortnig words of how Namjoon had been nursing them back to health with what snippets he had been able to salvage–but her Aloe and her African violet hadn’t made it. That felt like almost her final straw. 

She might need a few business days just to recover from…recovering. 

Hell, she still hadn’t even gotten to properly greet Yoongi. 

They ate dinner in Yoongi’s room much to his mild annoyance. With Y/n being informed that Seokjin had taken time off to go on a vacation with his parents, and her mother and father had mysteriously left for a work trip with little explanation, there was no need to eat in the dining room. They suspected it had to do with Hoseok joining their side and thus losing one of her accomplices. This made it easy for Namjoon to lie about Y/n’s attendance at work, which he shyly admitted he had been clocking in for her so she wouldn’t lose her paycheck or get terminated while she was out–something that had her gratitude growing exponentially.

Y/n wished she had the energy to revel in the fact that they were all eating dinner together again, messing around and tossing jests from tired mouths and weary eyes like soldiers that had returned from battle. Her head had slumped onto Jimin’s shoulder before she knew it, letting it rest there with her plate practically licked clean next to her. She hadn’t realized how hungry she had been until Jungkook and Jimin had brought up their makeshift pasta creation still steaming and fresh. It had only lasted a few minutes before her hungry eyes were set on it.

When the conversation had slowed, she remembered what the spirits had used as leverage to build resentment and distrust: her friend's shady behavior that she had yet to get any answer for. 

“What were you guys even doing the whole time I was going insane?” Y/n suddenly asked, her sleepiness making her straightforward, her thoughts uncensored. “I know I was stupid for letting myself get that fucked up, but you guys sneaking around and hiding things from me definitely added fuel to the fire.” 

Hoseok held his hands up in surrender, pushing the desk chair back to roll a foot away from the rest of them. “Don’t look at me–that’s something I wasn’t a part of yet.” 

Namjoon gave him a mild glare that melted into a sheepish smile towards Y/n. “We were trying to figure out a way to help you, but you were…inhabited Y/n. Compromised. If we had gone to you with our plan, Candida might have been able to prepare herself or fight back–make you lash out even or hurt yourself to protect her. We couldn’t risk it.” 

“Oh…” Y/n looked down with warm cheeks at her own idiocy. Of course that made sense. It made perfect sense–Christ why hadn’t she just trusted them??

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Yoongi chastised her with a knowing glint. “Trust me, we are all well aware that you were not yourself.” 

“What did you find?” She inquired, trying to shift the conversation into a one with a silver lining, before backtracking when they shared an apprehensive look. “Wait–never mind. If she’s still in here then–” 

“Bear has a few ideas. Some of which helped us make you cognizant–he says he’s sorry by the way. But he can’t risk his safety just yet.” Jimin offered with a kind smile, one arm lifting up and over her shoulders to hold her in place against his side casually. “He says he dealt with something similar before.” 

“Is there anything I can offer to help? I know her pretty well now unfortunately…” Y/n looked to each of them, hoping they could find something for her to do.  She couldn’t stand sitting around and doing nothing. 

Yoongi dropped his mostly cleared plate down onto his desk on top of  Hoseok’s, pushing the stack towards the edge so Jimin could add the both of theirs to the pile. “Well actually maybe there is. Bear said we need something to get her attention. Between you and Hoseok I’m sure we can make a good bet as to what that could be.” 

“She liked music and the theater. Ballet.” Hoseok twitched in his seat uncomfortably, one hand coming to scratch at the spot behind his ear. “But she’s…she’s messy. Never a straight train of thought–her brain is scattered like a squashed bug. I’m lucky if she gives me a coherent thought  that lasts longer than a few seconds.” 

Y/n pondered his antidote, and thought over her own experience with the woman. She had never felt anything positive about anything–only negativity. “I honestly have no clue. She is only ever pissed when I see her.” 

“Well pissed attention is still attention.” Yoongi shrugged with a sigh. “Let us keep brainstorming. You can offer ideas as they come to you but we can’t have you getting too riled up. We don’t want it triggering anything.” Though his dark eyes narrowed at her with one final warning. “But if something starts bothering you, you need to tell us this time. You can’t let it push everyone out.”

Y/n stifled a yawn and resigned to her fate of taking the backseat for the time being, knowing she full well deserved the light scolding. She couldn’t deny how appealing it sounded to just focus on relaxing and giving all of this a rest after her previous week. Her parents being gone lowered the stakes for the moment as well. She’d be a fool not to take some time to recoup so they could come back swinging harder than ever with their new and returned allies.

“You should sleep.” Jungkook remarked, a challenging quirk of his brow ticking upwards. 

“I’m not going to fight you on that this time.” Y/n slumped back down on Jimin’s shoulder with a sigh. “Are the wards back up in my room so I can try and fix it up?” 

“Not quite. We came to the unanimous decision that you should probably camp with someone in the evenings, in case Candida or that other nasty bastard tries to try anything when you’re alone.” Yoongi stretched back over his chair, grabbing the remaining plates and ambling towards his door to return them to the kitchen. “You can choose where you want to go.” 

Y/n didn’t know what had possessed her that evening to choose the roommate she did. Her first instinct had been to choose to remain in Yoongi’s room as it had grown familiar to her, and she already had her basic necessities tucked in a bag in the corner of his room and waiting (courtesy of Jimin).  But the guilt of taking up his space for another night after supposedly crashing there for two weeks was too strong, and thus she moved onto her next choice.

Jimin would be the obvious answer–except he was currently housing Bear on his desk, and it might put Bear’s safety in jeopardy for her to invade his safe space like that until they knew for sure that Candida wasn’t an active threat. 

Something in her gut pulled her answer from deep within, guiding her with dragging feet and her toiletry and clothes bag tossed over one shoulder and a pillow cradled against her side kept in place with her elbow, trailing after Namjoon across the landing into the left hall. He bid his farewell to her once he dropped her off at her destination, shutting the door softly behind her and wishing her a goodnight. 

Y/n waited, frozen in place near Jungkook’s door in his dark bedroom for him to make his way through the attic and onto the terrace to join them. She hovered in front of his shelf by the door, too nervous to touch anything or to make herself comfortable until he gave her the direction to. Butterflies erupted in her stomach like this was a sleepover at a friends house she had never been to–nerves tickling at her and making her wonder if she had made the wrong choice. They were still on strange terms as well. To distract herself from her discomfort, she let her eyes take in his room that had grown and changed often over the years. But one thing remained the same. 

His room was spotless as always, dusted and vacuumed with his bedding freshly washed and tucked neatly around the edges. A little R2D2 wax warmer emitted a cerulean blue light from its base, illuminating the dark space enough to map out his furniture–she was too preoccupied with anxiety to finger through his belongings and turn on one of the many small lamps littered about his space in fear of messing up his meticulous organization. He never really cared for the overhead lights even when he was a kid. 

Y/n jumped as the terrace door clicked open and Jungkook slipped in, closing and locking the bolt behind him. His eyes quickly found her in the dimly lit room, his confusion clearly outlined in the blue light. 

The expression never left his face as he stepped by her, close enough for her to feel the heat from his side as he reached an arm over her shoulder to flick on a small warm toned mood lamp, one eyebrow poised in a silent question at her hesitancy as he did so. 

“Where should I…?” Y/n gestured to the bag on her shoulder and the pillow tucked under her arm.  

Jungkook grunted, and gave her the tiniest of shrugs. “Wherever.” 

Y/n took slow steps to his desk, plopping her bag onto the chair and unzipping it to fish for her toothbrush and a pair of sleep shorts, taking both in hand and disappearing into his bathroom wordlessly, shutting the door behind her just enough to offer them both a bit of privacy but not latched. She didn’t want to be completely alone. 

She avoided any eye contact with the mirror–even if Candida was laying low, it didn’t mean that the risk was none. Slipping on the shorts she opened the door a few more inches to hopefully let Jungkook know that he could come in if he needed to, and started the task of brushing her teeth. 

Jungkook peeked his head in first, making sure she was decent before sidling in the tiny bathroom to join her. They stood side by side in a heavy silence, the chorus of toothbrush scraping against teeth accompanied by the occasional spit was the only sound heard. Y/n almost found herself enjoying the silence and domesticity of the interaction, save for the two of them sharing awkward stolen glances through the mirror until she padded back into the main room and lingered by his desk for further instruction.

Y/n watched him through the open door,  wiping his mouth off and cleaning the sink of water droplets with a fresh cloth. His hair had gotten longer since she had arrived, and was almost due for a trim if the way he kept pushing it back behind his ears with a sharp exhale through his nose was anything to go by. As if his senses could feel her eyes on him (actually a probable conclusion she realized with a start), he found hers through the doorway and hurried his motions, tossing the towel in his laundry basket and reentering his room. 

“Are we blowing up one of the air mattresses for me to sleep on? Or am I just crashing on the floor like old times?” Y/n shuffled from one foot to the other, hugging her pillow to her chest, observing his head disappearing into his closet. 

Jungkook recoiled from the shelves and looked at her like she had just said something outlandish, blinking at her with blank eyes as he registered what she had said. “Neither.” He disappeared into his closet, retrieving an air mattress bag and turning to the space she was standing, crouching beside her to plug the pump in. “You can take my bed.” 

“I’d feel better if I didn’t.” Y/n shook her head with a nervous chuckle, stepping aside as he shooed her to make room for the mattress. “I’ll just take the airbed.” 

Jungkook sat back on his heels to give her an unyielding glare. “No.”

Y/n returned it, taking a step closer to the terrace door to give him more space. “Yes. I won’t let you give me your bed. Especially when you wake up earlier than me for work.” 

“Too bad.” Jungkook shrugged plainly, flipping the pump on with a small smirk to drown out her protests with its deafening whirring. When she tried to complain over the noise, he brought one tattooed finger up to his ear and shook his head, before pointing down to the pump with a shrug. 

Y/n gave him a deadpan stare to cover up the fact that her mind was already hatching a plan of her own while she monitored the expanding fabric of the air mattress rising until it reached just below her knees. When he finally flipped the switch off, the silence that enveloped them felt deafening in comparison to the grating pump that still left her ears ringing. She kept her composure while helping him tuck the edges of the fitted sheet over the rounded corners, and even when her turned away from her to poke through his closet for a spare blanket. 

Jungkook fluffed the fabric out to rid it of any dust, then tossed it up to fall onto the mattress. However while the blanket was still suspended in the air, Y/n dove head first onto the airbed, snuggling up to her pillow and spreading herself over it with a satisfactory sigh, pulling the comforter up to her chin to stifle a laugh as it fell onto her. She could practically feel his irritation ebbing from where he stood and made the conscious effort to push his buttons a little further. 

“Ahh yes. Perfect. Thank you for making my bed for me, Kook.” She snuggled down into the blanket and looked up at him with a mischievous smile that rounded out her cheeks. 

Jungkook’s stare was blank as he cast it down to her, his lips pressed into a thin line that threatened to give way into the smallest of smiles. 

“No.” 

Without warning, he wrenched the blanket from her grasp, both of her hands coming up to make a grab for it which he snatched up in his hold, using the tight grip to hoist her up to her feet with enough force to send her careening forward onto his bed with an audible ‘oof’. She rolled over just in time to see him smirking at her while reclined victoriously on the airbed, looking as proud as ever.

“Ugh. You’re such a pain in my ass sometimes.” Y/n groaned, flopping back onto his mattress in defeat. 

Jungkook licked his lips, his eyes glinting in the low light at her. “Same goes for you.” 

Y/n grumbled to herself, knowing full well the moment his physical strength was added into the equation, she was surely to lose. She crawled under his covers and settled herself down–not before tossing his pillow at his face with full intent for it to collide with it, but his hands were too quick, catching it just before it landed its blow. 

He fluffed the cushion placing it neatly where hers had been, then he leaned forwards with hers held out in what seemed like a peace offering. She took it from his grasp and shoved her head down into its comfortable embrace, sinking into his mattress and tugging the comforter up and over herself. 

She would never admit to him that it was actually more comfortable than the airbed. 

Jungkook turned off the lamp, blanketing them into darkness that was only broken up by the wax warmer, which he promptly powered down as well. The air mattress let out a few final groans while he made himself comfortable, stopping only when he had situated himself and his breathing had started to even out. 

She listened to his breath, counting along to each inhale and exhale in her head, seconds turning to minutes until she couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. For someone that had been so unbelievably exhausted before, she sure couldn’t find where that feeling had gone now that she had her head resting against a pillow and her eyes squeezed shut. 

Perhaps it had been chased out by the unease that crawled up her throat and settled itself in her chest, making her heart pound and her eyes dart along each shadow's edge at any sudden sound from outside on the terrace. The day was catching up to her–as were the days before she had lost consciousness. Everything was swirling about and sending her nervous system into overdrive; relief, fear, guilt, shame, uncertainty for what was to come. 

Y/n cast a cursory glance down to the mirror above his dresser, and barely caught what could have maybe been a flash of gold that moved too quick for her to truly tell. Her heart hammered in her throat, and for half a second she entertained the idea of trying to ignore it–of forcing her eyes closed and counting down from a hundred until she succumbed. Though thoughts of today resurfaced, reminding her of how the isolation had only fed into her power, the more fear Candida could elicit, the more power she held over Y/n. To keep anything like what had happened before from happening again, she needed to do the exact opposite of what her fear wanted her to do.

“Jungkook?” Y/n whispered softly into the dark. 

There was a soft creak of the airbed, then his response came shortly after. “Hmm?” 

Y/n swallowed through the tightness in her throat that told her to just leave it–to handle it on her own. “I think I saw…I might’ve…She…” God she sounded pathetic. Why couldn’t she just spit it out?

Jungkook didn’t seem to mind that though, appearing to understand what she was trying to force out of her mouth without any further need for explanation. The air bed gave a much louder groan and she heard his feet moving swiftly around the end of the bed before the R2D2 wax warmer clicked back on, the soft blue glow dim enough not to hurt their eyes but light enough to make her feel comforted by it. 

“Where?” 

“The mirror.” Y/n pointed a shaky finger at it. 

Jungkook peered at his own reflection, examining every inch of the room through its reflective picture. Once satisfied with his examination, he pivoted back to her with a shake of his head. “She’s not there.” 

Y/n wanted to cry again. It wasn’t his fault–but it didn’t make her feel any less crazy. She almost wished he could see her–because then it meant he would be able to punch her in the face if he did. 

“O-okay.” Y/n kicked herself for how weak she sounded. It was obvious with just a single word that she was crying. 

Jungkook stood still, undecided on what he should do before deciding on his new favorite offer he seemed to always have at the ready. “Do you want me to get Jimin?” 

Y/n sat up, observing the way he stood uncomfortably by the mirror with a vaguely worried expression. She genuinely pondered his question, only finding one answer. She should. She should want him to get Jimin. And on one hand she kind of did–Jimin always managed to make her feel even the slightest bit better by just his presence alone. But it dawned on her that it wasn’t Jimin’s presence that she necessarily craved at the moment. It was Jungkook’s. 

“No,” Y/n shook her head, sitting up and pulling back the covers enough to swing her legs out to dangle over the edge. All of her shame seemed to leave her body in the face of fear. She plucked her pillow up and held it on her lap, sliding down off the mattress and onto the floor.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook moved to step in front of her, blocking the path towards the air mattress to keep her from swapping their pillows. 

Y/n looked up at him and took in a steadying deep breath, holding their eye contact even when her face burned with heat. “I want to lay with you for a bit. If that’s okay…” 

Jungkook made no motion to move, not for what Y/n could’ve easily believed to be a few minutes. When he did, it was in the form of his hands guiding her shoulders to walk back to his bed until the backs of her knees hit the edge, forcing her to sit on it. 

“Wait here.” 

He left to the other side of the room, returning not seconds later with his pillow under his arm which he placed next to hers. Y/n let herself be guided into a reclined position and listened accordingly when Jungkook directed her to scooch to the other end to make room for him. 

Jungkook joined her not long after, laying next to her with his body stiff as a board, leaving as much distance between them as possible on the wide mattress. With bravery only the dark could give her, she reached for his arm, sliding her fingertips down the skin until she found his hand to interlace their fingers and brought them both up to rest against the skin of her cheek that was still damp. 

“Thank you.” Y/n whispered to him, letting her eyelids slip shut. 

He didn’t answer, but he did shift closer–if only marginally so–their hands now able to lay more comfortably between them without his elbow being bent at an awkward angle. Candida’s golden eyes felt more like a memory now, not a reality. Not when his skin was warm against hers, and his breathing lulled her into the early edges of sleep. 

She could’ve sworn that she had heard his heartbeat too during the last few moments of consciousness–but that would have meant he would’ve had to have moved closer–and that the soft fabric against her face wasn’t her pillow. Because she couldn’t remember her pillow having the ability to breathe. 

_________________________________________

The days went by in a much similar manner to how they had when she first arrived–only in some strange turn of events–almost better than when she had first arrived; even with Candida lurking in the corners of her mind, only showing her face occasionally in mirrors and window panes. Her image held little power over her at the current moment when she was surrounded by more of her friends than ever before. This new phase felt…freeing–even with it hanging on a delicate balance of whether or not it could escalate at any moment. This was the closest to normal she had felt. 

With her parents gone and Jin on vacation, there was no hiding. Bear was in charge of the cameras, blipping them out on command so they could scurry from dining room to landing, or bedroom to bedroom without having to make Jungkook trump through the attic. She wasn’t ready to go back to the greenhouse just yet, so her mornings were spent passing the time in Jimin’s office with Tree and Arrow when he was called off to give a tour. 

It was nice to get to know a ghost that didn’t want to kill her–she would even go as far as to call it fascinating. She grew a habit of grabbing snickers bars from the hotel lobby and sneaking them to Tree when Jimin wasn’t looking (Jimin believed he was becoming too spoiled, and disapproved of the excess in treats she was supplying). If she had the time, she would read books from Jimin’s shelf aloud to Sergeant–and as pages turned to chapters she would swear one some occasions that a faint fuzzy outline of his shoulders would appear on one of the armchairs, paired with the soft puffs of breath that escaped his mouth while he listened intently. And when she wasn’t doing that, she was expanding Arrow’s music taste with a few records she was able to swipe from her room.

Speaking of her room, it was still a force to be reckoned with. Yoongi and Namjoon proposed that they leave her room in disarray as a means to look for more clues into Candida’s behavior, but they could not tell her exactly what they were looking for in case it triggered another ‘episode’. Thus she was on a need to know basis when it came to their plans, their group chat alive and well again (and increasing in size) as their main form of communication. It was usually used as casual communication, or to ask Y/n vague and inconspicuous questions (read: suspicious, especially if they were from Namjoon) about her day to day experience. 

In the afternoons, she would eat lunch with Hoseok in his car in the historical society parking lot before trading off with Jungkook when he got off of work to reestablish their daily walks along the trails. Dinner was the most nostalgic event in her opinion; a race against time as they slipped from room to room at just the right time to miss the camera signals. Her and Jungkook had somehow gotten into the habit of seeing who could make it from one room to the next in the sneakiest manner while Jimin manned the walkie, reliving their childhood adventures as secret agents. Yoongi did not participate, but insisted on offering pointers on how to ‘increase their stealth level’ from his curled up spot on a dining room chair. It was in those moments when his gummy smile would make a guest appearance and Y/n was reminded of just how long he had been deprived of a relaxed family meal where he wasn’t preoccupied with carefully piecing together a guise of nonchalance and innocence. 

She would finish off the night on an air mattress in someone else's room, usually Jungkook’s or Namjoon’s. Though Namjoon’s was a shot in the dark if the two of them were to actually get any sleep–they were both incapable of keeping their mouths shut and their brains quiet, thus when one would ask a seemingly innocuous question that was swirling about their minds, the other would most certainly respond like a pair of twittering birds until one of them passed out first in the middle of a mumbled sentence. 

The only thing that was left unexplained was Taehyung, who had continued to keep a strong distance from the rest of the house–Y/n wasn’t even sure if he was still around anymore. When her and Jimin had gone to check on him with an invite to join them at the Adelaide for lunch, he was not in his room, and he didn’t answer any of his messages. Y/n was beginning to worry about him…

Thursday morning went about the same as the first half of the week, lazily reclining on Jimin’s loveseat with whatever book her and Sergeant had been working on with her head on Jimin’s lap when he wasn’t busy. That was until her phone buzzed with an incoming message. 

[New Message in The Most Annoying and Toxic Coworkers]

[Zoltar 🔮]: Who’s babysitting the invasive species? Is she still with Jimin?

[Midass✋🃏]: I’m omw to pick her up for 🍗. What’s up?

[Morning Glory 🌼]: EXCUSE ME????? The WHAT??

[Zoltar 🔮]: Cool. Can you bring her up to the hotel? I’m on floor 11, south side. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: HELLO?? I’m literally right here 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: What’s the field trip for?

[Midass✋🃏]: ✔️🚙💨

[Morning Glory 🌼]:Are you just going to pretend I’m not here or….

[Zoltar 🔮]: You guys hear something? 

[Zoltar 🔮]: I swear it’s like I hear something…

[Morning Glory 🌼]: ME. IT’S ME sending a curse your way. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: If you yawn it means it’s working. 

 [Zoltar 🔮]: Fuck. 

[Zoltar 🔮]: Guys I think I’m cursed. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: 😈😈😈😈

[Zoltar 🔮]: Oh wait

[Zoltar 🔮]: Nvm. Just tired from carrying this team on my back. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: fuck you dude. 

[Zoltar 🔮]: That’s bold of you to say considering you tried to  s t a b  me

[Morning Glory 🌼]: You said you weren’t mad at me for that😢

[Jimin: 👂👻]: Look what you did, now you made her cry 🙁

[Jimin: 👂👻]: <sent a photo> 

[Zoltar 🔮]: I’ve never seen something so fake. This is blackmail. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: No it’s real see

[Morning Glory 🌼]: <sent a photo>

[Zoltar 🔮]: That’s just a close up picture of your eyeball. 

[Zoltar 🔮]: Try harder 🥱

[Jimin: 👂👻]: Do my eyes deceive me, or is he cursed?

 [Midass✋🃏]:🫵😯 CURSED

[Midass✋🃏]: Im outside btw. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: I am becoming too powerful, you must all bow before me. It’s the law I’m afraid 😌. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: I'll be out in a sec!

[Zoltar 🔮]:  Sorry, I actually forgot how to read so laws don’t apply. Brb. 

Her and Jimin were still giggling by the time they made it out to Hoseok’s car, he was barely able to contain them when he planted a chaste kiss on her cheek with a reminder to text him later when she had the time. 

She waved to Jimin as they pulled out of the lot, flushing hot when he blew her a kiss which she hid from Hoseok by keeping her face out of the open windows in hopes the wind would cool it down. She hoped once this Candida shit was all settled and down, that her and Jimin could sit down and actually discuss what exactly they were–and where The two of them were still relearning how to be natural around each other, but their daily lunches had certainly helped push them in the right direction. They were now able to hold adjacent to normal conversations. 

“So what’s this field trip for? Or am I not allowed to know?” Y/n turned her head towards him, eyeing his profile. 

Hoseok used two fingers to turn the volume of the radio down, shooting her a quick sideways glance when he turned the wheel back onto the private driveway. “I have no clue. Believe it or not, they may trust me to an extent but they aren’t wagging their tails in excitement to tell me what they are up to.” 

Y/n hummed distractedly in acknowledgement, watching the guests putter about the grounds and making the best of their stay, even offering a small tour group that was huddled around a stone plaque near the tree line a shy wave as they passed. 

He left his car in front of the estate, the two of them walking alongside each other towards the back entrance of the hotel, a bag of takeout swinging off Hoseok’s arm and keeping a good amount of space between them. Strange–the distance now suddenly taking on a new meaning to Y/n with the understanding of his...abilities. This dance was becoming cumbersome. How many new secrets and secret abilities was she going to have to adjust to? At this point someone could tell her they could fly and she’d believe it. 

Y/n shook her head at the absurdity of the thought, though it did lead her to a new more interesting one. 

Had Hoseok had his since birth too? They had all been pretty elusive to the specifics of his powers for the time being. And quite frankly after their argument (their second argument to be more specific), she was treading their discussions carefully. But she supposed in order to return to normal, she had to act like it. Fake it till you make it. 

After making it across the lobby, she took the time it took to wait for the elevator as an opportunity to ask a few of her questions. “Hoseok?” 

“Yea?” He whipped his head to her instantaneously, like he had just been waiting for permission to look her way. 

“Have you always been able to do your…” She wiggled her fingers towards his hands. “Thing.” 

Hoseok laughed, the force of it jostling him forward slightly while he fidgeted with his keys in his free hand. “No. They uh…they just showed up after my injury. I think they are related.” 

The golden elevator doors slid open, followed by the inner layer of antique golden lattice peeling back to make room for their entrance. Hoseok followed behind her, using his index finger to hit the button for the eleventh floor. 

“How so?” Y/n felt like she was interrogating him and the bright lights certainly added to that atmosphere.

“Well….I think you're smart enough to figure out I didn’t break my leg by playing tag.” Hoseok’s eyes shook, darting about the small metal box to the beat of the floor numbers dinging passed overhead. 

“Gathered as such.” Y/n nodded. 

Hoseok clicked his tongue a few times, his head twitching to the side as he thought up his next answer. “I can’t tell you too much because I’m not allowed to just yet. But Mr. Brains upstairs thinks that because of how severe my incident was, I could have gotten stuck between worlds, and because I was so close to the other side I took a piece of it with me.” 

A sinking feeling weighed down Y/n’s stomach, and she felt herself subconsciously take a step closer. “How…How close were you?” 

Hoseok gave her a half smile that didn’t entirely reach his eyes, blinking his eyes a few times in quick succession. “Let’s just say that I’m lucky to have celebrated as many birthdays as I have.”

There was a ding overhead as the box came to a smooth stop, the doors opening not long after to welcome them into the hall, Hoseok stepping through the second the gap was wide enough. Y/n didn’t need any superpowers to tell he had little interest discussing the topic any further. 

The walls were a spotless cream, accented with wooden panels that came up to roughly hip height. Antique photos and art pieces aged by time hung every few feet to break apart the paint, each piece either made by someone that had lived on the property, or brought over from overseas from the family that existed before them. 

The carpet was red, freshly vacuumed and deodorized as was customary for the cleaning department. There was a cleaning cart parked beside an open room, and Y/n could hear the billowing of linens and the running of water as the worker stormed through it with practiced precision like a well-oiled machine. She found herself humoring the fantasy that it could be Jungkook that was busy turning up the room, but she knew the chances of that were slim when the entire hotel was a possibility.

Though her stomach still flopped dramatically back down in disappointment when it was a much shorter man she saw stuffing the pillows into new cases and not Jungkook’s mop of unruly dark waves. 

They came to a crossroads where the hall split into two opposite directions: one to a completely vacant hall, and the other to a much shorter hall that ended abruptly–signaling that the two rooms on either side were their massive family suites that took up the space that would otherwise be more hallway and rooms. Taking up the entire walkway between the walls lined with numbered doors was a silver ladder parked and balanced against the back wall so the person on it would have easy access to the air conditioning unit up near the ceiling. 

Yoongi had one leg propped on the top and the other a few steps down, the sleeves of his red workman’s overalls rolled up to his elbows and a screwdriver wedged between his teeth as nimble fingers fiddled with the internal pieces of the unit he had taken the front off of. On cue, he twisted his head to greet her, nodding at their arrival. 

He plucked the tool from his mouth and gave her a lopsided grin that showed his teeth. “Well, well, well–Looks like the garden’s been overgrown. Anyone got any weed killer?” 

“Nope. I’m too strong for the chemical shit.” Y/n chuckled, approaching the bottom of the ladder to get a closer look at his movements looking up at him with a playful smile. “Try harder.” 

Yoongi shook his head with a breathy laugh, reaching into his belt for a rag that he splayed over his hand to wipe at the accumulated dust within the machine. “Oh that’s right I forgot–you are all powerful or whatever bullshit you typed out with those meddling fingers of yours.” 

“So what’s the news?” Hoseok interrupted them by leaning his weight on the other end of the ladder and used his thumb to pop open his lunch container. 

Yoongi’s eyes zeroed in on the carton. “You didn’t bring me any?” 

“Did you ask?” Hoseok quipped back up with a raise of his brows, stabbing a fork from the bag into his food and shoveling it into his mouth. 

“You can have some of mine, Yoongs.” Y/n added dismissively and put one hand on the leg of the ladder to peer up into the open machine. “What are you up to?” 

“You don’t have to do that.” Yoongi’s cheeks flushed the faintest of pink, and he followed her eyes up to the machine. “Just cleaning it. Someone reported that this one was rattling a lot, so some kid probably threw something in it. Just got to find whatever it was. ”

Y/n hummed while grabbing for her own meal, cracking open the lid and revealing her meal to the both of them. She took a bite while he fished his hand through the cracks in the machine for anything out of the ordinary.

“I asked you two to come up here because I wanted to talk to you about tonight.” 

Y/n swallowed her bite quickly so she could respond, wracking her brain for whatever it was he was referring to. “What about tonight?” 

“Exactly that.” Yoongi brought his hands out from the machine with a crease forming between his brow as he raked his eyes over it one more time, then he dropped the rag in defeat and lowered himself down two rungs so he could crouch to her height. He looked at her expectantly, one eyebrow higher than the other and a cheeky smile ghosting his face. When she stared blankly at him, he licked his lips and gestured towards her food. “You said you’d share, Miss Glory.” 

Y/n’s cheeks glowed with heat, and she fumbled with the bag for a spare fork but found none. Not wanting to leave him hanging, she skewered through a piece of roasted broccoli with her own fork and held it up to his lips to take. His cheeky persona faltered momentarily, his eyes flickering down from her eyes to the fork and back to her eyes like he was asking for permission. 

“Go on then, don’t take all day.” Y/n moved the bite closer and he parted his lips to take it, his ears twinged pink and his eyes never once leaving hers.

He coughed into the side of his fist while he chewed, breaking their eye contact to flit his eyes around the hall before regaining his composure. “Tonight we are meeting up in your room for seven. Try to get there early and wear something comfortable.”

“You couldn’t text that?” Hoseok whined from beside her around his meal. 

“Nope.” Yoongi paused, eyes tracking her next bite that she put into her own mouth. “Because I need to take her phone.” 

Y/n made a noise of surprise around her food, eyes widening at him. “My phone?” 

“Yeah. It’s just a precaution.” He shrugged, wetting his lips again as with his eyes trained on a piece of chicken in her container. 

Y/n took the hint, and prepared another bite with both chicken and vegetable on it, holding it up for him to take. He did so without hesitation this time, his tongue peeking out briefly to catch it. Y/n didn’t understand why the interaction had her short circuiting and her heart fluttering in her chest encouraging the spread of heat–but it sure did. 

“How will I know what time it is then?” She kept her tone in check, not wanting to expose herself anymore than she already could be to his perceptive eyes. 

“Don’t be silly,” He tsked. “ You’ll have the kid.” 

Y/n handed him her meal to continue eating from as he talked softly with Hoseok about his day, while she was much more interested in the sweet treat Hoseok undoubtedly grabbed as per usual. She found the smaller carton and her mouth watered at the sight of chocolate and raspberry cake–and of course, tucked in the lip of the dessert container was the extra fork. Well, it was too late now. 

Hoseok’s fork immediately dove in from beside her, swiping a large forkful of cake with a giggle. 

“Rude! Not my first bite!” Y/n glared at him, the action nearly costing her the entire slice when Yoongi attacked from the right with his own fork, taking one of the raspberries from the top with it. “Oh–my god!” Y/n took a defensive step back to dodge any further swipes with a shake of her head. She gave them the most offended look she could muster. “It’s like you guys don’t even care about me!” 

The two of them snickered at their own mischief, and Y/n finally gathered the perfect bite on her fork. “Assholes” She was sure to grab the prettiest looking raspberry and pop it into her mouth, keeping her eyes locked on Yoongi’s as she did so. His eyes took on a look that was indecipherable, and he wet his lower lip almost subconsciously, eyes lingering on what she could almost believe was he mouth long after the berry disappeared. 

They finished their meal with Yoongi, and as instructed she left her phone with him in one of his dozen pockets when she and Hoseok started back towards the lobby. Hoseok was trailing behind her for most of it, and when he thought she wasn’t looking he would grimace–something she didn’t miss from the corner of her eye. 

“Do you need me to slow down?” Y/n’s question startled him, his mouth partially open in an unfinished response. “You look like you might be having a bad day. I can slow down if I’m walking too fast.” 

Hoseok chewed on his cheek in contemplation, but nodded nonetheless, letting his pace slow. She matched it all the way to the elevator, and this time he got in first and rushed to stand at the opposite end, waiting until she was nestled inside to tap the lobby button. 

“You don’t have to do that.” Hoseok coughed, adjusting his jacket over his short sleeve button down. 

“What?” Y/n tilted her head in confusion. 

Hoseok turned his face to look at her. “Slow down.” 

Y/n scoffed and made a face at him. “Whatever. I’ll do it if I want to. I don’t mind.” She took a half step closer to him, the gap having gone from a full foot to only a few inches. “If something hurts for you, we can find a way to do it differently so it doesn’t.” 

Hoseok didn’t respond, but she could feel the weight her words held in the air between them. She inched closer once more, their arms only a breath away from touching, and there was no way he couldn’t feel her hovering presence.

“Can you control it?” She asked softly.

“Sometimes.” He choked out. 

“Sometimes?” Y/n looked down at his hand that hung between them. “How about right now?” 

He tipped his head to her, swallowing thickly. “I could try.” 

Y/n took that as permission, testing the waters with her middle finger first, letting it brush against his knuckles. He took in a deep breath through his nose but didn’t pull away. Her index and ring finger followed after, weaving between his and holding them gingerly in her own. “Just because we are in a bit of a funk right now doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. We can navigate your pain together, yeah?” 

“You say that now. But when it becomes inconvenient I don’t think you’ll be saying the same thing.” Hoseok ran his thumb over hers, just barely so. 

“I think I will be.” Y/n shrugged, taking the plunge and resting her head in his shoulder for the last few seconds before the doors opened. “There’s plenty of trouble we can get into together that doesn’t involve a lot of walking.” 

“Like?” Hoseok snorted. 

The elevator started to slow, pushing Y/n to spit out whatever word vomit she could before the doors opened, ticking each one off on her fingers as she went. “Quilting? Sewing? Get a fish tank and watch the fish swim around. We could have Yoongi give us painting lessons. I could teach you to crochet–or we could learn a smaller instrument together–both sound fun! We could get you a wheelchair that I can push around and decorate so it looks cool. Develop the biggest board game collection imaginable and be those people that host game nights every other week. The possibilities are endless, we just have to be creative.” 

During her spiel, the doors had opened but neither of them made any moves to leave yet. Hoseok stared at her with glistening eyes that threatened to spill. The doors shut again, and they stood like that for a few beats while Hoseok tried to control his breathing. Y/n had begun to wonder if she had pushed the topic too far and too quickly after a few breaths. Should she apologize?

After what felt like an eternity he cleared his throat and tapped the button to open the doors with a quick wipe of his sleeve across the tip of his nose. “That sounds…fun.”

“Yeah?” Y/n followed him out into the lobby, their hands still loosely connected. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok kept his eyes forward and out of her sight. “Fun.” 

_________________________________________

Y/n had no idea what time it was. 

With no phone she was relying solely on Jungkook to make sure they got back to his room in time to change before heading over to her room. Jungkook was nothing if not punctual, and had them back in his room by five to give her time to change and prepare for whatever it was they were planning. His demeanor was quiet and reserved, like he was compartmentalizing himself for the evening, thus only furthering her unease about whatever was to come.

It didn’t help that for the past ten minutes, Jungkook’s were darting from his phone and back to her like he was waiting for something. Waiting for a sign that she had no clue on. 

Something stirred within her with the rising anticipation of the mysterious endeavor. Something that felt all too familiar and suffocating, like a cold hand danced its dainty fingers on the strings of her mind and had begun to pluck and pull on them–moving them this way and that against her will. 

Candida. 

Y/n didn’t wait around once the first wave of goosebumps cascaded down her limbs, ripping open the bathroom door that separated her from where Jungkook sat on his bed waiting. She came on hard and fast, bringing a torrential wave of anxiety and panic with her that Jungkook must’ve been able to feel from across the room, as he had leapt from the bed the second the door opened. 

“She’s–she’s here. I can feel her–” Y/n went to close the distance between them, but the tightness in chest had her stopping against her will. 

Jungkook’s expression firmed to stone and he discarded his phone onto his mattress to let it bounce down to the floor before he lunged at her, hoisting her up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and out his door. 

“What the fuck are you–wait–aren’t we supposed to be going to my room?!” Y/n grasped for the fabric of his shirt, her stomach churning as she swung to the side when he turned left to go further down the hall instead of right. 

He didn’t answer, and she couldn’t see his face to get any sort of information from either. 

“Jungkook!” Y/n tried again, feeling herself grow more frantic. “What’s happening?” 

They stopped in front of Jimin’s door that opened almost immediately, welcoming the two of them into his pitch black room and shutting the door and the remaining light from it. 

Her feet touched the ground, and then Jungkook was gone. His dark attire made it easy for him to disappear into the darkness of the room that her eyes could not see through. 

“Guys? What’s going on…You’re freaking me out…” 

She could hear someone breathing–or maybe it was the sound her own breath, she couldn’t be sure. The darkness was beginning to warp her mind and feed into Candida’s power, her pulse skyrocketing and her head beginning to throb. 

Match struck box, and a small flame lit up Yoongi’s face close to the floor–then four more strikes; all of her friends' faces lit up by the matches they pinched between their fingers to light a ring of candles around her feet as fast as they could. In seconds she was surrounded, and the matches were snuffed out to leave the burning candles in their place. 

In front of her was a wooden desk chair with an oblong shape propped in the seat, shrouded by a black cloth and placed within the circle of flame. Her friends stayed outside the line, crouched close to the floor where Y/n could barely make out a collection of salt, crystals, and sigils she didn’t recognize. 

“Candida Wörner,” Yoongi spoke first, eyes cold and narrowed on her. “I call you forwards into the circle to show yourself.” 

Y/n’s stomach lurched with the overpowering urge to vomit as the invisible sensation of ice-cold water pouring over her skin and seeping into her skin pulled a yelp from her mouth. The water moved with lithe, calculated movements through her system, striking and prodding in places that felt tender to touch. In an immediate response, her lungs stopped expanding mid breath–staying frozen in place. Her hands clawed at her throat as she struggled to breathe in, her own body not listening to the commands, her skin cold to the touch beneath her fingertips. 

“If you cause a scene, we will not hesitate to use force.” Yoongi continued stalking each movement her body made and every breath she missed. 

Her hold did not lessen even when Y/n’s lungs started to burn from lack of air and her chest twitched with uncontrollable coughs. Namjoon’s voice started droning on from the darkness of the room in swirly prose that Y/n’s thundering heartbeat snuffed out entirely. Rage that felt like it was from outside her own body brewed deep in her belly and came ripping out of her throat with a high pitched shriek. 

Y/n still choked, gasping around nothing for air that would not come–like her lungs had been turned to stone or removed from her insides entirely. She fell to her knees as her legs grew weak, her limbs quaking from lack of oxygen. 

“She can’t breathe!” Jungkook hissed from outside the circle somewhere to her right. Y/n spun in search of him–to hold or to hit she wasn’t sure. Her mind was not her own. However her vision grew too fuzzy for her to see anything clearly in the low light, and Jungkook did not step forwards when she tried to call for him. 

Namjoon’s voice grew louder and Y/n’s felt as though her skull might splinter open, and her eyes might explode from the built up pressure behind them. Yoongi  barked commands to the others that stood just out of sight. “Here she comes! Start the second phase–now!” 

 Jungkook leapt into the circle with Hoseok hot on his tail, the latter disappearing behind the oblong object with his fingers buried in the cloth, waiting for further command to remove it. Jungkook stood over her, and she watched as his brown eyes melted to black and his hands came up to press on either side of her face. 

“Candida Wörner, I command you to come to the surface. Show yourself to me.” 

Y/n gargled, one of her hands trembling in a desperate grab for his wrists–she needed to breathe or else she wasn’t going to last very long. Voices swirled about her mind, hissing and snapping their jaws at her with accusations aimed at Jungkook, their wild grovels for attention trying to blame the pain on the hands that pressed into her cheeks. Jungkook slid one of his hands down to her throat and gripped the side of it, his touch bringing oxygen rushing into her lungs for a few short breaths before the sensation was ripped from her again. 

“No!”  Words scratched from Y/n’s mouth, but they weren’t her own. The voice didn’t belong to her. “He is hurting me!” 

He’s going to kill us! 

Stop him! 

Jungkook’s nostrils flared and his chest heaved, his other hand joining at the base of her throat to let another burst of air into it. If he was hurting her, why did it feel like he was the one letting her breathe? Her skin burned where he touched, and she tried to push him away–no–Candida tried to push him away. Y/n wanted him to stay right where he was. 

Sweat started to surface from every pore of her skin, forming droplets and drying out her lips. She could feel the skin cracking as her mouth stretched in screams of protest as more pain bloomed in her middle like Candida was running her internal organs through a shredder. Her brain was throwing forth the images of Jungkook’s dying face to the forefront of her mind, forcing her to watch the scene over and over again until she started to cry out, begging it to stop. 

“She’s fighting it,” Jungkook spat out through gritted teeth. “She’s hurting her–I can’t-” She could feel his hands starting to slip away. 

Get him off of us! Look what he does to you! Liar! Liar! 

Her mind was screaming at her to hurt him–but she knew not to listen this time. Her eyes flickered over his shoulder to see Yoongi’s that had gone dark like a stormy sea, his hands shaking and his chest heaving, his mouth moving but no words sounded from them. Trust me. 

Y/n took one hand and slid it into Jungkook’s hair, pulling on the strands to keep his attention on her face croaking out her words through battered vocal cords. “Don’t. Don’t let go.” Y/n gave a firm shake of her head–locking their eyes onto one another. “You get her out of me, you understand?” 

Jungkook looked torn, his expression struck with horror. 

“Get her out–I’ll only be okay if you get her out.” Y/n gave one last good tug on his hair, and let her hand drop to the ground as it gave out. 

Jungkook scooped her back up to a standing position from beneath her arms, another set of arms joining in to help him hold her upright. Jimin. 

“Do it now, Hoseok.” Jungkook growled, and in the next second the black cloth was tossed aside, an old looking mirror with a dusted ornate frame sitting proudly out of its covering–looking more terrifying than even the worst creatures hell could birth to her at the moment. 

Jungkook forced her to stand in front of it, to take in the reflection of herself how Candida had made her: like she was on the brink of death. 

A radio sputtered to life, and Yoongi held it up behind the mirror, just outside of the circle. 

“Tantchen, bist du da?” 

Y/n’s body gave a shudder, and she would have fallen forwards if it wasn’t for Jimin and Jungkook holding her upright. 

“Warum hast du deine Kinder getötet, Tantchen?” 

Y/n’s body charged forwards blindly towards the voice, the reflection of her body nearly splitting in half as Candida’s face overlaid her own. 

“Namjoon!” Hoseok tossed something across the room to the man in question, and Y/n heard pages frantically flipping from her left. Namjoon started reciting something in a language she didn’t know, and without warning, Jungkook grabbed for Y/n and pushed her towards the mirror–only it wasn’t her body in his hands. 

With a blood curdling scream, Y/n and Candida were ripped apart from one another–every muscle in her body contracted and spasmed like he had torn her tendons out with her, and she collapsed to the floor in a writhing heap, Jimin softening the blow. Jungkook slammed Candida into the mirror, her body vanishing into its surface almost instantaneously. 

Hoseok and Namjoon ran at the mirror with hands outstretched, Namjoon’s fingers dragging shapes onto the glass with oiled fingers, and Hoseok planted both hands on either side of the frame, squeezing inwards like he was the one keeping her in. 

Namjoon was almost yelling now, but to Y/n it sounded so far away. Candida was thrashing from within the mirror, throwing herself at the glass to escape its confines with her eyes latched on Y/n’s–almost desperate. 

Y/n whined at the residual throbbing sensation in her head, and closed her eyes to block out the candles that now looked too bright. The yelling and banging vanished, as did the smells and the pain. The rushing river from within slowed down to a gentle sway, soothing the stinging wounds Candida’s separation had made. 

All had gone quiet. 

They all waited on baited breath, too hesitant to assume victory already. But when Hoseok covered the mirror with the black cloth once more, the entire room took a shared breath of relief, and Y/n let her head fall back onto the floor. 

Candida was gone. 

_________________________________________

Bear pushed open the Adelaide doors, directing his companions to spread out on all sides–Margaret was assigned to Youngho’s side and took towards the stage. They were to stay out of the situation unless absolutely necessary. 

It was no feat to find Duane, his massive form slumped over the bar counter with empty glasses either smashed or lying on their side from the abuse he had put them through. A mess. His brother was an absolute mess. 

Bear kept his steps light and controlled as he approached his brother, placing a hand onto the countertop a yard or so away. 

“Duane…” The man in question made no move to signify he was cognizant, but Bear tried anyways. “Today is undoubtedly one of the hardest days you will ever have to face,” Bear slid into a stool a few away from his brother, keeping his eyes on him at all time. “But it is also the hardest day for your children. They need you out there–” 

“Do not,” Duane’s voice was muffled by the counter his cheek was squished against. “Do not lecture me on my own children, Bär.” His words were spoken with venom as they peeled from his lips. 

“I am not lecturing. I am advising.” Bear gripped the counter’s edge with his fingers. 

Duane shifted, and his shoulders began to shake. For a moment Bear thought Duane was crying and started forward to comfort him–until the sounds grew faster and louder; he was laughing. Cruel and cold. 

“Advising? You, advising me, Bruder?” Duane raised his nearly empty glass to his lips with a condescending shake of his head. “I would rather die than take advice from you.” 

Bear could feel his blood pressure rising, and grit his teeth to keep from snapping. “You don’t mean that.” 

“Oh but I do,” Duane exhaled as he brought the glass back down to the counter top, twisting the empty glass this way and that as he thought. “You know,” he started with a tone that made Bear’s heart pound, “I always thought that out of anyone else in the world–you would be the one person I could trust more than myself.” 

“Why can’t you?” Bear slid from the barstool in preparation for the blow he knew was building. 

Duane looked at him–eyes drooped and merciless. “Why can’t I?” He took one thick hand and fumbled with his breast pocket, sliding out a folded sheet of paper and sliding it to Bear. 

It was the note Patti had left him that he was sure he had tucked into his pocket after they had left the ballroom. Bear couldn’t move–Couldn’t breathe. 

“Yeah.” Duane stood, stretching up to his full towering height. “I thought so.” 

Bear had a split second to dodge the glass that sailed through the air at deadly speed. He made it just in time for it to whiz by the skin of his ear and explode into thousands of little pieces against the counter where he had just been. 

Duane charged him, all muscle and height with a strength that could tip a bull if they faced head on. But Bear was smaller–faster–and well trained. He ducked under his arms and danced around his figure, dropping to the floor as Duane gripped a stool and both hands and swung it in a circle with the aim to do as much damage as possible. 

Bear had no doubt in his mind that at this moment if given the chance, Duane would kill him. 

Duane may be strong, but the amount of alcohol burrowing through his system slowed him down, giving Bear the upper hand. 

“I’m not going to fight you, Bruder!” Bear leapt back as Duane made another grab for his head and missed, falling sideways onto the bar counter to catch his breath. 

Duane growled under his breath. “You should.” 

“I won’t.” Bear repeated, standing firm. “You are one person I won’t.” 

“You have the nerve to fuckin’ come in here and tell me how to take care of my kids like you know them better than me after stealing my wife’ Duane shook his head, wiping away a spot of drool that had started to fall from the corner of his mouth. “And now you won’t even fight me like a man?” 

“A man is not made by his ability to fight.” Bear shouted back, his temper rising. “And I didn’t steal your wife.” 

“You didn’t? So you just happened to be screwing her while she was married to me?” Duane laughed louder than before. “Who cares about that bitch anyways. She’s dead to me now.” 

Bear’s blood ran cold, and his hands shook with restraint, his voice low and biting. “You don’t mean that. You are just angry with me–call me whatever names you want and throw whatever shit you can get your hands on–but do not talk about her that way.” 

“Then you don’t get to talk about my kids–they are none of your business.” Duane leveled him with an accusatory finger. 

“Your kids?” Bear inquired. “Are you sure about that?” 

Bear let his fists clench and his tongue loosen beyond his control. He couldn’t even give Patti the dignity and respect she deserved on the day of her own funeral. Couldn’t step up as a father for one singular day. All he saw was red. 

Duane cocked his head to the side, a twisted grin taking shape on his face. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Bear couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to watch him burn. 

“Obviously Johan and Dorothea are yours–the timelines wouldn’t make sense for I was off overseas. But Henry…” Bear gave Duane a second to soak in what he was saying. “Henry is where things get convoluted.” 

The room went still. Even the chandeliers that hung far above them seemed to stop their swaying dances. 

Duane was immobile as his eyes glossed over with a dismissive chuckle. But when Bear didn’t back down, his smile slowly wiped from his mouth, and the gears in his head turned over one another in realization. 

“His birthday is November 6th in case you forgot.” Bear huffed, and turned to make his way back to the front door. If he stayed any longer one of them would surely kill the other–two trained killers blinded by rage would surely never end well. 

The breath was forcibly pulled from his lungs as Bear tackled him to the floor, rolling him onto his back to land  a harsh blow to Bear’s face with a curled fist, barely letting it collide with his cheek before charging his next hit. 

Bear let him get a few in, taking them one after the other for the punishment he deserved–but then it was his turn. 

He grabbed for Duane’s neck and used his size against him, careening his already unsteady upper half back so Bear was the one on top. There was a loud crack as Bear’s elbow made contact with Duane’s nose, spurting blood down his chin and seeping down his neck to the floor. Commotion resounded from near the stage, and in a surge of power Duane’s eyes burst open, bulging with rage and nearly golden with wrath in the dimly lit bar. 

In a feat of inhuman strength, Duane sprang forwards and knocked Bear onto his back, both brutish hands coming down on Bear’s throat and squeezing his airways down to slits. Bear looked up at him, defeated and broken–his brother who he had loved more than anything in this world–was killing him. 

One of Bear’s hands came up to grip onto the skin of Duane’s arm as his windpipe started to bend under the force, tears welling in his eyes as he gave one final croak. “Duane…Please…” 

Something in Duane’s expression twitched, but he did not yield. 

A small silver bell clanged violently as it was pummeled into the side of Duane’s skull, Margaret’s fist guiding it into sharp precise hits and creating the perfect distraction for Seonggi and Youngho to rip Duane’s hulking body off of Bear so he could breathe.

“I told you to ring it near his ears, not to bash his head in!” Seonggi hissed as he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Duane’s face like a mask, blocking out his vision of Bear. 

Margaret caught her breath and wiped the metal instrument on the side of her black dress, bending over to offer Bear her other hand. “It worked, didn’t it?” 

“Unbelievable, the lot of you are…” Seonggi grunted out, struggling to hold Duane back. 

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Youngho had both arms locked around Duane’s middle to aid in his restraint, “She did great!” 

Duane snarled from beneath the jacket, his brute strength jerking all three men forwards, nearly escaping with one swift tug. Seonggi’s eyes flashed with worry, bringing his elbow around Duane’s throat to hold him steady. “Bear–Run!” 

Margaret acted first, yanking Bear to his feet and guiding his unsteady gait to the double red doors and out into the lobby. He could hear the jingles start to ring out like a church bell choir from behind them with Duane’s voice calling out over the sounds, louder than Bear thought humanly possible.

“Don’t come back!” Duane tore the suit jacket to shreds, launching the two men off of his arms and back while he blubbered after him. “Go off and fight in ‘nam like a good little soldier–die there for all I care!” Duane’s voice echoed after him even as he sprinted across the lobby. With one final bellow from his brother that vibrated the walls, all of the lights in the lobby flickered, some of them even dying entirely as if to prove his point. “DIE THERE!” 

Bear tore down the front steps after Margaret, kicking up dust and grass as they went. She herded him to a blue rectangular-shaped car in the parking lot, fumbling through her pockets until her fist closed around a set of keys which she promptly tossed his way. “Take my car. Just go–I’ll tell Johan what–”

“No!” Bear cut her off with a gasp. “You can’t tell him what happened–any of them. They mustn't know! It would ruin them…” He was holding back sobs at this point, beggin the young woman in front of him to heed his words. He could feel his throat swelling with bruises already.  

“O-okay! Okay! I won’t,” She grabbed for his other hand and held them both in hers–a promise with shaking hands. “I won’t.” 

“Thank you,” Bear sighed in relief and tore away from her hold, wrenching the car door open and slamming it shut behind him so hard the car shook. He looked up at her from the open window, leaning out with a salute. “You’re going to make one hell of a Wörner.” 

“You come back now,” Margaret squinted down at him with the ghost of a smile. “Johan talks about you too much for you to leave for good–and I do think he should be getting married soon.” 

“Do you now?” Bear turned the engine over with a strained chuckle, feeling it rumble beneath his seat and the yellow headlights lighting up the shrubbery of the woods around them. “I’ll see what I can do then. You’ll tell them I love them for me, won’t you?” 

“I will, but I’m sure they already know.” 

_________________________________________

_________________________________________

“Tantchen, bist du da?”: Aunty, are you there?

“Warum hast du deine Kinder getötet, Tantchen?”: Why did you kill your children, Aunty?

Next chapter

Taglist: @kokoandkookie @rkive-joonie @singdancedreampray @erescheesemelted

[army-geniuslab]

When you look for a fic on Tag Reader and the main character already has a name and social security number...

[dontparkjiminridejimin]

omg okay listen 🩷 as a jimin girl i am losing my mind a little bit?? like the layers we’re getting here… i don’t even know where to start 😭

the way everything escalated from the engine damage to the police showing up felt so real?? like i could hear the metal ticking as it cooled and feel the adrenaline under my skin!! and the little glimpses into everyone’s character??? taeyang being proud and stubborn. maya knowing exactly how to cut through his bs. and reader stepping in with that calm but terrifying authority?? i love her so much. she’s so competent but not showy about it and that balance is really hard to write!!

also. the tension between reader and jaque???? is getting unbearable in the BEST way 😭😭😭 the banter, the heat, the little ways he watches her work and challenges her without being condescending… it’s giving enemies-to-lovers but in a respectful way and i’m obsessed 🩷

i love that this fic gives us jimin in a role that’s sharp and a little dangerous but never cartoonish—like he knows how the scene works, knows his place in it, and still makes room to be playful and protective in these subtle little ways that just… break me 🥹

jimin stans. please. please read this fic. it’s the kind of jimin characterization that’s layered and mature and complicated in the best way. he’s charming and annoying and smart and a little dangerous and you just feel the history simmering under every line. there are so few fics that get him this right.

also we are SO back on the “she notices his tattoos mid-police chase” trope and i for one am deeply not okay about it 🥹🩷🩷🩷 reblog if you love soft jimin hidden under fast cars and sharp banter pls ok thank u 💗

FIVE SECONDS TO FREEDOM | 02

˗ˏˋ broken cars and police chases ˎˊ˗

"Sometimes the most dangerous thing isn't the race itself—it's who you trust to have your back when everything goes sideways."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 5,5k

rating: mature

content: police chases, engine diagnostics, unexpected alliances, & the dangerous intimacy of small spaces

jimin's skyline r34 | y/n's toyota ae86

✧ author's note ✧

Well. Hi again. (ಠ_ಠ)

Welp. Here we are. Chapter 2?!?? Already??? I see you little freaks going feral for Latino!Jimin and I can only say: relatable. Honestly. You’re not wrong and you shouldn’t be ashamed. You are exactly as God (me) intended. Now sit back and enjoy the consequences of your lust because this chapter is rich in feral Jaque behavior.

NOW. As for my obligatory prefacing ramble that none of you asked for but must endure because I am mentally ill and this is my sandbox: I really, really loved writing this chapter. Early chapters carry so much weight in a story’s rhythm—they’re the place where you need to anchor, to plant seeds, to seduce the reader into forgetting they have jobs and responsibilities and instead need to sit here with me and spiral over my little fictional rats. And this chapter let me really dig into the interpersonal dynamics that are going to unfold like slow-burning emotional grenades later on.

Let’s talk Maya for a second—my angel, my demon, my unhinged menace in matte black nail polish. I’m so obsessed with female friendships and I will never forgive media for flattening them into either aesthetic sidekicks or exposition machines. Maya is real. Maya is sharp. Maya has her own shit going on that affects how she shows up for Y/N. She’s not a foil—she’s a force. And Y/N having someone like her, someone who gets it and doesn’t coddle but also doesn’t leave? UGH. Peak feminine solidarity. She gives me Yeji and Irya (FMU coded) energy in the way that her presence changes the emotional architecture of a scene just by existing in it.

And Maya and Taeyang?? HA. You thought that was banter? You thought that was throwaway dialogue? BE SERIOUS. I am planting a garden and you better water it, because that seed is going to grow into something chaotic and gorgeous and definitely juicy.

Speaking of juicy: Taeyang and Jaque’s friendship is so dear to me. Like. I’m sorry. That entire “bro I’d die for you but never say I love you or make eye contact for longer than 2 seconds” dynamic is sooo real and sooo important and sooo boy. I needed that energy in here. It’s just so honest. And yeah, Taeyang has a backstory. And yes, he speaks Spanish too. And yes, there are layers to how and why. (‘Tiz’? Tiz is not just a sound. Save that. Save it. Bookmark that bitch.)

Also random but crucial: everyone calls Taeyang “Yang” and not “Tae” because my mentally ill fanbrain kept jumping to Taehyung every time I typed it and I simply refused to confuse my sons like that. Thank you for understanding.

And okay—Y/N checking the RX-7? Y/N getting her hands dirty? That scene is everything. It’s not just for the car girlies (though I see you and I love you). It’s about proving narrative integrity. Your main character needs flaws. Needs competence. Needs internalized biases, too. The world doesn’t split itself neatly between heroes and villains, misogynists and feminists. It’s messy. Characters are flawed. They don’t have all the information. They say the wrong thing. They’re not mirrors—they’re human. Jimin is just arrogant and doesn’t yet have the context to understand who he’s talking to. And that’s what makes it compelling. He fumbles. And the point is not that he never messes up—it’s that he learns. And Y/N gets to have her reactions and process and growth through it, too. We love a dual-arc pipeline. That’s what gives us growth and payoff and tension down the line. Plot wise. Character wise. Relationship wise.

AND THEN JIMIN???? IN THE AE86???? That man is literally the bane of my sanity. He’s cocky. He’s relaxed. He has one arm up on the roof like he owns your apartment, your body, and your last two brain cells. I hate him so bad I want to sit on his face. He’s all smirks and muscle memory and unreadable glances. The worst kind of guy. And I mean that in the way that makes my toes curl.

And the best part? Y/N and Jaque aren’t even talking to each other. They’re talking to their own assumptions. Two people playing poker with half the deck missing, trying to parse subtext that neither has context for. They’re both so certain they have the upper hand, and they’re both so wrong. I love them so much. I want them to suffer and also kiss about it.

Okay okay I’ll shut up. Go read the chapter. Report back. Tell me what you noticed. Tell me what you felt. Tell me if you would also fold like wet paper if Jimin stretched out in your passenger seat.

Love you always,

Kiki ♡

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

The sound that comes from Taeyang's RX-7 isn't right.

You catch it immediately—that telltale whine of a rotary engine pushed beyond its limits, the kind of noise that makes every experienced driver in a fifty-foot radius wince.

Taeyang's black Mazda limps into Daikoku like a wounded animal, steam wisping from under the hood, the distinctive growl of the 13B rotary replaced by an unhealthy rattle that has nothing to do with the aftermarket exhaust.

Maya whistles low beside you. "That doesn't sound good."

Understatement of the century.

You watch Taeyang kill the engine and sit there for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel. Even from this distance, you can read the frustration in the set of his shoulders, the way his head drops forward against the headrest.

He gets out slowly, like he's afraid sudden movements might make something else break.

The hood release pops with a sharp metallic click that echoes across the lot, and when he lifts it, a cloud of white steam billows out.

"Fuck." The word carries clearly across the parking lot. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

That's when you notice the other car—a lime green Honda S2000 that's still running, its driver standing beside it with his hands raised in what looks like apology.

Young kid, maybe twenty, with the kind of nervous energy that screams 'new money, bad decisions.'

You start walking before you consciously decide to move.

The scene becomes clearer as you approach—the S2000's front bumper has scrape marks. Fresh ones. Taeyang's examining something on the passenger side of his car—probably where contact was made.

"—didn't mean for it to get that heated, man. I was just trying to—"

"Shut up." Taeyang's voice is flat. Dangerous. "Just… shut the fuck up for a second."

The kid's mouth snaps closed.

Maya appears at your shoulder, silent backup, while a small crowd starts to gather.

Word travels fast when someone's car gets damaged in a race.

Everyone wants to see how it plays out, who's going to pay, whether fists are going to fly.

You catch a glimpse of Maya's face as she assesses the damage to Taeyang's car. She has a weird expression, far more personal than her usual detached amusement around these type of situations. Like she's taking this shit seriously for once.

You whip your head back to assess the situation—back to your more analytical side; the one you bring to every corner, every gear change, every decision that matters.

The S2000 kid is nervous but not running, which means he's either decent enough to face consequences or too stupid to realize how much trouble he's in.

In this city, this young, it's probably a mix of both.

The damage to Taeyang's car looks superficial from the outside—some scraped paint, maybe a dented quarter panel—but the engine noise suggests the real problem is internal.

Which means expensive.

Really fucking expensive.

"What happened?" Your voice cuts through.

The S2000 kid turns toward you, and his expression shifts the moment he recognizes who's asking.

Everyone in Daikoku knows you. Everyone knows your reputation.

And right now, you're not here as a racer—you're here as the person who decides how these situations get resolved.

"We were just—" he starts.

"I wasn't asking you." You don't even look at him, your attention fixed on Taeyang, who's still staring at his engine like it personally betrayed him. "Taeyang."

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving streaks of grease from whatever he just touched under the hood.

"Kid wanted to run here at Daikoku. Nothing fancy, just a quick pull to the back section." He's forcefully modulating his tone, but you can hear the anger simmering underneath. "Started clean enough. Then this fucking amateur decides he wants to get creative with the bump draft."

Your jaw tightens.

Bump drafting at Daikoku is dangerous enough with experienced drivers. With some kid who probably learned racing from video games? It's a recipe for disaster.

"Caught my bumper on the overtake," Taeyang continues. "Sent me into the barrier. Engine red-lined trying to keep control."

Which explains the sound. Rotary engines are temperamental bastards on their best days. Push one past its limits—especially when it's already running hot from racing—and expensive things start breaking.

You turn to the S2000 kid, who's been standing there looking progressively more uncomfortable as the story unfolds.

"Name."

"Uh… Hiroaki. Hiroaki Matsuda." He fidgets with his car keys. "Look, I already said I was sorry. I'll pay for the paint job, no problem."

Maya snorts. "Paint job."

"This isn't about paint," you say, voice flat. "How much cash you carrying?"

"I… what?"

"Cash. In your wallet. Right now. How much."

He fumbles for his wallet, hands shaking slightly as he counts bills.

"Maybe… forty thousand yen?"

You glance at Taeyang, who's now leaning against his car with his arms crossed. The expression on his face suggests forty thousand yen wouldn't cover a tenth of what this repair is going to cost.

"Forty thousand yen," you repeat. "For an engine rebuild on a built rotary. Do you have any idea what you just did?"

The kid's face goes pale. "Engine rebuild?"

"Apex seals," Taeyang says, voice clipped. "Side seals. Probably the whole fucking rotor housing at this point. You red-lined a bridge-ported 13B, genius."

The silence that follows is educational.

You can actually see the moment the kid realizes he's not dealing with a simple fender bender.

"I… I don't have that kind of money."

"Then we have a problem." You step closer, and he actually gulps down, audibly. "Because that car isn't just Taeyang's ride. It's his livelihood. You just cost him weeks of work. Weeks of races he can't run. Money he can't make."

The crowd has grown larger now, forming a loose circle around the drama. These kinds of disputes are part of Daikoku's entertainment, but they also serve a purpose.

Because everyone gets to see how conflicts get resolved, who pays up, who tries to run.

Reputations are built and destroyed in moments like this.

"Look," the kid says, desperation creeping into his voice. "I can get more money. Give me a week, maybe two—"

"No." The word comes out sharp enough to cut glass. "You pay what you owe, tonight, or you don't race at Daikoku again. Ever."

It's not an empty threat. Being blacklisted by you means being blacklisted from Daikoku. The most prestigious lot in Tokyo.

The kid knows it. You can see him running calculations in his head, probably wondering if he can liquidate something fast enough to cover the debt.

"My car," he says abruptly. "It's worth maybe two hundred thousand. Not enough for a full rebuild, but…"

"But it's a start." You nod toward the S2000. "Title's clean?"

"Yeah. No loans, no liens. It's mine."

You look at Taeyang.

"Your call."

He considers for a long moment, gaze moving between the kid and the lime green Honda.

It's a decent car—well-maintained, some nice modifications. Not enough to cover a complete rotary rebuild, but probably enough to get him mobile again while he sources the rest.

"Fuck it," he says finally. "Yeah. Transfer the title. I'll part it out to cover what I can."

Relief washes over the kid's face.

It's expensive as hell, but it beats being completely blacklisted from the scene he clearly wants to be part of.

"Maya," you say without looking away from the kid. "Make sure the paperwork's legit. No bullshit."

She nods, already moving toward the S2000 to check the registration and title—because Maya's dealt with enough car transfers to spot forged documents from across a parking lot.

The crowd starts to disperse now that the drama's winding down.

Entertainment's over, justice has been served, and there are other races to prep for.

You notice Maya leaning against Taeyang's broken RX-7 then, watching him poke around the engine bay with obvious frustration.

"So," she says, voice carrying that edge she gets when she's about to start shit. "This is what happens when you try to show off for someone."

Taeyang's head snaps up. "I wasn't showing off."

"Right." Maya's grin is sharp. "Just coincidence that you accepted a race from some amateur right after that girl with the pink Civic was asking about your car."

"That has nothing to—"

"Sure it doesn't." She picks at her black nail polish. "Because you're so level-headed when it comes to female attention."

"At least I don't start fights in club bathrooms," Taeyang shoots back.

"That was one time—"

"Last month."

"She had it coming."

Their bickering is interrupted by footsteps on gravel.

You don't need to turn around to know who it is—that particular stride has been getting under your skin for months.

"La puta madre, cabrón." Jaque's voice is a whistle as he approaches Taeyang's car. "What the fuck happened to your baby?"

"Yeah, la puta madre indeed," Taeyang responds grimly. "Some amateur with more money than sense happened."

Jaque reaches the RX-7 and immediately starts examining the engine bay with the focused attention of someone who actually knows what he's looking at.

Most posers in this scene can talk a good game about turbo specs and suspension setups, but few of them have actually held a wrench outside of basic maintenance.

Jaque, unfortunately, isn't a poser.

"Dude," he says, voice dropping to something more serious. "This is fucked. Rico needs to see this."

"Rico's busy prepping your car for tomorrow," Taeyang says immediately. "I'm not fucking with that."

"Hermano, Rico's been working on both our cars for three years. He's not gonna mind taking a look."

"He's got your tune to finish," Taeyang insists. "Tomorrow's race is too important. I can figure something else out."

"Like what?" Jaque's voice carries genuine frustration. "Take it to some random shop that's gonna charge you double and probably fuck it up worse?"

Maya snorts from her position against the car. "Boys and their loyalty issues."

Both men ignore her, but you catch the way Taeyang's jaw ticks at her comment.

"I'm serious, Yang," Jaque continues. "Rico can handle both. He's got my car for the night. Had him pick it up earlier for some final checks but the tune on my car is basically done anyway—just final adjustments tomorrow morning."

"And if something goes wrong with your setup? If the tune needs major changes?" Taeyang shakes his head. "You're racing for what, half a million yen tomorrow? I'm not risking that over my car."

Half a million yen.

That's serious money, even by underground racing standards. The kind of stakes that attract either the very confident or the very desperate.

Judging what you know about Jaque, it's probably the first one.

"Look at the scoring on the housing," Jaque says, pointing to something deep in the engine bay. "This isn't just apex seals, bro. This could be a full tear-down."

The genuine concern in his voice surprises you.

Not that he cares about his friend's car—that's obvious—but the way he's examining the damage suggests he might actually have some mechanical knowledge beyond basic maintenance.

"I know how bad it is," Taeyang says quietly. "I also know I can't afford to fix it properly."

The admission hangs in the air.

Financial reality is a bitch in this scene—a lot of people live paycheck to paycheck, dumping every spare yen into their cars to try and make a profit through the races.

You don't know what that feels like.

But you respect it enough to voice something out.

"I'll take a look at it."

Both men turn to stare at you like you just announced plans to sprout wings and fly away.

Jaque recovers first, that familiar smirk spreading across his face.

"Since when are you a mechanic, princesa?"

The condescension in his tone makes your hackles rise.

Just because you don't walk around covered in grease stains doesn't mean you don't know your way around an engine bay.

"Since I was sixteen and could outbuild half the idiots in this scene," you say, voice flat and unimpressed.

"Right." He drawls the word out, skepticism dripping from every syllable. "And I'm sure your manicure is really gonna help with rotary seals."

You look down at your hands—nails painted matte black, perfectly shaped but not impractical—then back up at his face.

"My manicure costs more than your car payment," you say sweetly. "But I can still rebuild a 13B faster than you can say 'thirteen bee.'"

Maya snorts beside you. "She's not wrong. Girl's been elbow-deep in engines since middle school."

"Is that right?" Jaque's eyebrows climb higher, and there's something in his expression that suggests he's genuinely intrigued rather than just skeptical. "And where exactly did you learn rotary engine repair? YouTube?"

This absolute jackass—

"Uncle's garage," you say, keeping it vague on purpose. "Started sweeping floors when I was eight. Graduated to actual engine work by fourteen. Rebuilt my first rotary at fifteen."

"Which garage?" Taeyang asks, sudden interest in his voice.

You hesitate—because any specific details might create connections you don't want. Connections to the Hayashi.

No fucking way.

Your reputation here was built on skill, not family money or connections. You've worked your ass off to earn respect based on merit alone.

"Just a local place," you say finally. "Been working there since I was—"

"Alright, I'll check it out with you."

The words stop you mid-sentence. You blink, processing what he just said.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He grins, challenge in his expression. "If you're gonna diagnose my boy's engine, I want to see this legendary mechanical expertise in action."

You stare at him. "You don't trust my assessment?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then why—"

"Because this should be interesting."

The way he says it makes your pulse spike with irritation.

Like you're some kind of entertaining novelty rather than someone with legitimate mechanical knowledge. Like he's humoring you rather than acknowledging your skills.

Fine.

If he wants a demonstration, you'll give him one.

"Whatever," you say, voice deliberately casual. "Just don't disturb me while I work."

You move toward Taeyang's car, pulling a hair tie from your pocket to get your hair out of the way.

You can feel Jaque's eyes on you on the periphery.

You ignore it.

Back to the work at hand—The RX-7's engine bay is cramped and complex—rotary engines pack a lot of components into a small space—but you've worked on enough of them to navigate the maze of hoses, wires, and manifolds.

"You got a flashlight?" you ask Taeyang.

He hands you a small LED light from his glovebox, and you click it on and lean into the engine bay, immediately focusing on the areas most likely to show damage from an over-rev situation.

The first thing you check is the coolant system.

Rotary engines run hot under normal conditions, and an over-rev situation generates enough heat to cause catastrophic cooling system failure.

You trace the hoses with your eyes and hands, looking for signs of bursting or leakage.

"Coolant seal's definitely blown," you confirm, voice slightly muffled by the hood. "But that's not necessarily catastrophic. Seals are consumable items anyway."

Behind you, you hear Jaque moving closer.

You can feel his presence even without looking—that annoying awareness you've never been able to shake.

Irritating, the way he seems to take up more space than he should.

"What about the scoring?" he asks.

You aim the flashlight deeper into the engine bay, examining the intermediate housing where the rotors make contact.

What you see makes you frown.

"Hand me that rag," you say to Taeyang.

He passes you the greasy cloth, and you use it to wipe away some of the accumulated grime around the housing.

The scoring is there, but it's not as extensive as you initially feared.

"It's there," you admit, "but it's not as bad as it could be. Most of this is just normal wear. The over-rev didn't help, but it didn't destroy everything."

You straighten up, wiping your hands on the rag.

All four of them are watching you with varying degrees of attention—Taeyang hopeful, Maya amused, and Jaque…

Unreadable.

"So what's the verdict?" Taeyang asks.

"The coolant seal definitely needs replacement. Probably the apex seals too, just to be safe. The scoring on the housing isn't great, but it's not rebuild-territory either. With some careful cleaning and new seals, you could probably get back on the road."

"How much?" The question comes out tight, like he's bracing for bad news.

You run quick calculations in your head.

Parts, labor, shop time…

"Maybe eighty thousand yen if you do the work yourself. Double that if you pay someone else to do it."

The relief on Taeyang's face is immediate and obvious.

Eighty thousand yen is still a significant expense, but it's manageable. It's the difference between being back on the road in two weeks versus being sidelined for months.

"You sure about that assessment?" Jaque asks.

You turn to look at him, eyebrow raised. "Are you questioning my diagnosis?"

"Just want to make sure we're not missing anything." He steps closer to the engine bay, leaning in to examine the same areas you just checked. "Because if Yangie gets this thing back together and it grenades on the first race, that's on us."

"It's on me," you correct. "I made the assessment. I take responsibility for it."

Jaque blinks at you, but doesn't comment. Instead, goes back to examining.

You watch him trace the same components you just checked, noting how his hands move confidently.

It speaks of someone who's spent serious time working on cars. Not just maintaining them, but actually building and rebuilding them.

Frustrating.

It would be so much easier to dismiss him if he was just another pretty boy with a fast car and no real knowledge.

But watching him work makes it clear that his reputation isn't built on luck or money alone.

"Coolant seal's definitely toast," he confirms after a few minutes. "But yeah, the housing damage isn't as bad as it looked. Good call on the apex seals though—no point putting this back together with worn seals."

You resist the urge to say 'I told you so.'

Barely.

"So we're good?" Taeyang asks, looking between the two of you.

"We're good," you confirm. "Just need to source the parts and find time to do the work."

"Rico probably has the seal kits in stock," Taeyang says immediately. "And if not, I know a guy in Yokohama who specializes in rotary stuff."

"What about workspace?" Jaque asks. "This isn't really a parking lot repair job, and Rico's spot is packed."

Good point.

Replacing rotary seals requires clean conditions, proper tools, and enough space to lay out components in order.

It's precision work that can't be rushed or done halfheartedly.

"I can get us bay time," you say without really thinking about it. "After hours."

The offer surprises you almost as much as it surprises them.

You're not in the habit of volunteering garage space for other people's projects, especially not when it involves the jerk and his circle.

But Taeyang's a solid driver, and this wasn't his fault.

And even if it costs you to admit it, you respect Jaque's loyalty to his friends.

"You sure about that?" Taeyang asks. "I can pay for the bay time."

"Don't worry about it." You wave off his concern. "Won't be a problem."

"When?" Jaque asks.

"Tomorrow night, probably. Give Yang time to source the parts, and give you time to handle whatever race you've got scheduled."

"Yeah," he says. "Tomorrow works."

The conversation is promptly interrupted.

A commotion from the other side of the parking lot.

Raised voices, the sound of car doors slamming, the general atmosphere of tension that signals trouble.

All four of you turn toward the noise, and you immediately spot the source of the problem.

Police cars.

Three of them, moving slowly through the lot with their spotlights sweeping across the assembled cars and people.

Not racing toward anything specific—just the general patrol presence that every underground meet dreads.

"Shit," Maya breathes. "Time to go."

Engines start firing up across the space, conversations cut off mid-sentence, and the universal message spreads without anyone having to say it out loud: scatter, now, before this turns into something worse.

You move toward your AE86 without hesitation, muscle memory taking over.

Maya's already pulling out her car keys.

Taeyang looks torn between his broken RX-7 and the need to get away from the police presence.

"Leave it," Jaque's tone goes harsh. "We'll come back for it later when things cool down."

"I'm not leaving my car—"

"Taeyang." There's a warning tilt in the way he says his friend's name now. "It's not worth the risk. We'll get it later."

"Your car's fucked anyway," Maya cuts in, already moving toward her Silvia. "Can't drive it, can't race it. What's the point of getting arrested over a paperweight?"

Taeyang's jaw ticks. "It's not a paperweight."

"Right now it is." She throws him a look over her shoulder. "Come on, don't be stupid."

The police spotlights get closer—radio chatter from one of the patrol cars loud enough to be heard.

"Shit, they got unmarked units too," someone calls out from across the lot.

The urgency ratchets up another notch.

"Tiz." Taeyang's voice carries frustration and something else—concern. "The fuck you gonna do without a car?"

"I'll figure something out—"

Maya's engine roars to life immediately, exhaust note cutting through the chaos. She leans out her window, eyes finding Taeyang across the lot.

"Taeyang! Move your ass!"

He makes a sound of frustration, but it doesn't take him even two seconds to start jogging towards her.

You don't miss the way his shoulders relax the moment he slides into her passenger seat. Like he's exactly where he's supposed to be.

Which leaves Jaque standing there, carless, while police spotlights sweep closer to your section of the lot.

"Y/N." His voice comes from directly behind you. Close. "You know the back exit?"

You unlock your door. "Yeah."

"Mind if I—"

"Get in."

The words come out before you can think about them; before you can consider the implications of Jaque in your passenger seat, in your space, close enough to touch.

You slide into the driver's seat and fire up the engine.

This is what home actually feels like—everything exactly where it should be, everything perfectly calibrated for your hands, your reflexes, your driving style.

Jaque opens the passenger door and the dynamic shifts immediately.

You hate how small your car feels with him in it.

The minimal interior that you love for its racing purity suddenly seems intimate rather than functional.

He settles into the passenger seat way too nonchalantly, one arm draped along the door frame, fingers drumming against the roof.

The position does things to his shoulders, fabric of his shirt stretching across his chest. He tilts his head back against the headrest, and you catch a glimpse of the line of his throat in your peripheral vision before forcing your attention back to the road.

Fucking annoying.

"Cozy," he comments, and there's amusement in his voice despite the urgency of the situation.

"Don't touch anything."

"Kinda makes me wanna touch more, princesa."

He spreads his legs slightly, knee nearly brushing the center console, and now it's like the space between the seats has shrunk.

As if his mere fucking presence on its own fills the car in ways that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Besides the sufferable smirk you can hear in his voice.

When he reaches up to adjust the rearview mirror—checking behind you for police, probably—the movement draws your eye to the line of his forearm, the way his fingers curl around the mirror's edge.

His tattoos.

You had never really paid attention to what they show or the meaning they harbor.

Somehow, now, you're curious.

But right now, it's whatever; because you've got bigger problems than your passenger's… passenger-ness.

Like the police sweep happening behind you.

In your rearview mirror, Maya's Silvia falls into position behind you, Taeyang's silhouette visible in her passenger seat.

It's no mystery they're sitting closer than necessary—Maya's not exactly built for long-limbed passengers, but still.

Another set of headlights sweeps across the lot.

Not police this time—unmarked sedan, but with the telltale antennas and spotlight configuration that screams undercover unit.

"Fuck," Jaque mutters. "They're serious tonight."

"They're always serious." You shift into first gear, hands steady on the wheel despite the adrenaline starting to spike. "The question is whether they're smart."

"Smart how?"

"Smart enough to block the obvious exits before they started their sweep."

You've been through enough police raids to know the pattern. The smart cops set up checkpoints on the main drags before they move in on the lot. The lazy ones just roll in loud and hope to catch whoever's too slow or too stupid to run.

"Well," Jaque says, settling back into the seat with that stupid attitude of his that should not be attractive but somehow is. "Guess we're about to find out which kind we're dealing with."

The service road you're heading for is narrow and poorly lit, tucked behind the warehouse that borders Daikoku's rear boundary. Most people don't even know it exists—just a maintenance access that leads to a residential street about half a mile away.

It's risky. If a patrol car happens to be watching that exit, you're trapped.

But it's better than trying to leave through the main entrance where half the lot is already bottlenecked.

"You sure about this route?" Jaque asks.

"No." You downshift as you approach the narrow opening between buildings. "But it's better than sitting here waiting for them to run our plates."

The 86 slips through the gap with inches to spare on either side.

Behind you, Maya follows, her Silvia's wider body kit making the squeeze even tighter.

"Fuck, that's close," Jaque comments.

"Maya knows what she's doing."

"I wasn't worried about Maya."

You glance at him, noting the way his free hand rests casually in his lap, no white knuckles or nervous fidgeting.

Either he trusts your driving completely, or he's very good at hiding his nerves.

The service road stretches ahead of you, potholed and uneven, designed for maintenance trucks rather than performance cars.

You keep the speed reasonable—fast enough to put distance between yourselves and the police sweep, but not so fast that you bottom out the 86's lowered suspension on a hidden crater.

"So," Jaque says after a few minutes of navigation. "Tomorrow night. This garage where you learned to build rotaries."

"What about it?"

"Just curious. Not many people your age know their way around a 13B the way you do."

You can feel him watching you in the dim light from the dashboard, trying to read something in your expression.

Probing for information you're not willing to give.

And it's a bit unsettling, the way he's studying you. Because most people in the scene take you at face value—the skilled driver with the built AE86 who showed up one day and started winning races. They don't dig deeper because your driving speaks for itself.

But Jaque isn't most people.

"Not many people start working at eight years old," you say, voice neutral.

"Eight." He repeats the number like he's testing it. "That's young. Even for family business."

Family business.

It's a bold assumption, but a correct one.

Damn him and his perception.

"Not family," you lie smoothly. "Just a family friend who needed someone to sweep floors and organize parts."

"And this family friend taught you to rebuild rotaries."

"Among other things."

Jaque's quiet for a moment, and you can practically hear him processing this information, filing it away with whatever other details he's collected about you over the months.

The silence stretches.

Not comfortable. Never comfortable with him.

You reach for the gear shift, muscle memory guiding your hand through the familiar motion. Third gear. Engine settling into its rhythm.

The movement pulls your tank top slightly, fabric shifting against skin.

You catch it in your peripheral vision—the way his gaze drops. Deliberate. Unhurried.

He's looking.

Actually looking.

At the way the black cotton clings.

At the neckline that sits lower than you'd prefer but higher than most girls around here dare to wear.

At the curve that's always been more than other girls your age carry in this society, the one that draws attention you never asked for.

"Nice tank top." His voice carries that lazy drawl, eyebrows climbing with obvious appreciation.

Of course he makes a show of it—letting his gaze drift down and linger, like he's got every right to look. Like you're something on display.

Heat flares up the back of your neck. Instant. Unwelcome.

Is he fucking serious right now?

Your hand moves automatically, tugging the neckline higher.

Habit. Defense mechanism.

The same motion you've been making since you were sixteen and realized that this particular genetic lottery came with complications.

"Thanks," you say, voice flat as asphalt. "Compliments my urge to tell you to fuck off."

He laughs. Actually laughs, the sound filling the small space between you.

"Heeeey now," he drawls, and there's something in his voice that's pure trouble. "I wasn't complaining."

The back of your neck burns hotter. You rub at it with your free hand, trying to erase the feeling, the awareness of his eyes still on you.

Asshole.

"I am. Keep your eyes on the road, nuthead."

"I'm not driving, princesa."

"Then keep them on your own fucking side of the car."

His only response is a snort. Then, quiet.

Minutes pass.

The tension in your shoulders doesn't ease.

If anything, his sudden silence makes it worse—like he's thinking about something you don't want him thinking about.

"You know," he says finally, "most mechanics would charge serious money for rotary knowledge. Especially someone good enough to diagnose Yang's engine damage that accurately."

"So?"

"So I'm wondering why you offered to help for free."

You take a right turn onto a wider street, finally emerging from the industrial maze into a residential area. Normal streetlights, normal traffic patterns, normal life continuing oblivious to the underground drama playing out in parking lots across the city.

"Maybe I just don't like seeing good drivers sidelined by amateur mistakes."

"Maybe. Or maybe there's something else."

Before you can ask what the hell that's supposed to mean, Maya's voice makes an appearance.

She's pulled up beside you at a red light, window down, calling across the gap between cars.

"Babe, I know a place we can actually park without worrying about cops."

Taeyang leans forward in her passenger seat. "There's a 24-hour konbini about ten minutes from here. Lot's usually empty this time of night."

"Lead the way," you call back.

The light turns green, and Maya takes off with a chirp of tires that's totally unnecessary but perfectly Maya.

Show-off, your girl.

Gotta love her for that.

"They're interesting together," Jaque observes.

"They're idiots together," you correct. "Maya's been hung up on him for months, and he's too dense to notice."

"Or too smart to acknowledge it."

You glance at him, surprised by the insight. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sometimes the timing's wrong. Sometimes other things have to happen first." His voice drops lower, more thoughtful. "Sometimes you're not ready for what someone's offering, even when you want it."

You glance at him for a second before your own voice fills the car instead.

"Sometimes, you don't have much choice."

Now it's his turn to steal a glance at you. He doesn't say anything else, however.

But the air suddenly feels denser.

Which is ridiculous.

You follow Maya's taillights through a series of residential streets, the Silvia's exhaust note echoing off buildings as she navigates toward whatever sanctuary she has in mind.

"So," you say, needing to fill the silence. "This race tomorrow. Half a million yen, Taeyang said."

"Yeah." The playfulness drops out of his voice entirely. "Something like that."

"Must be important."

"It is."

That's all he offers.

No details, no explanation of why this particular race matters enough to have Rico working on his car at night, why Taeyang was so concerned about disrupting the preparation schedule.

He's always like that, you note. Always loud and nosy about what he wants people knowing, but quiet and vague about what he doesn't want anybody knowing.

Like his mango allergy, apparently.

"Well," you say as Maya's brake lights flare ahead of you, signaling the turn into the konbini parking lot. "Don't crash."

"Worried about me, chiquita?"

"Worried about having to find a new rival," you correct, pulling into a parking space next to Maya's Silvia. "The scene's boring enough without you disappearing."

It's not entirely a lie.

Jaque chuckles as he reaches for the door handle. "Don't worry, gatita. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

Before you can respond to that—and you're not sure what you would have said anyway—he's already getting out of the car, leaving you alone with the lingering scent of hinoki and leather.

And the uncomfortable realization that some part of you was actually worried about tomorrow's race.

goal: 300 notes

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© jungkoode 2025 | banner/div credit: @dailynnt no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[seokwrts]

THE IDOL NEXT DOOR | park jimin

synopsis : Park Jimin is used to having the world at his feet. As a member of BTS, the biggest boyband on the planet, there’s nothing he can’t touch—except her. Y/N, the most desired solo idol in the industry. Korea’s sweetheart. The untouchable fantasy. But for Jimin, she’s always been more than that.

For years, he’s watched her from behind a screen—streamed her performances religiously, scrolled through her airport photos at 3 a.m., ran a secret fan account just to feel closer. He knows her laugh, her voice, her favorite shade of lipstick.

He’s imagined what she sounds like when she moans. What she’d look like in his bed. And when she moves into the apartment right next door to him? It’s not just a coincidence. It’s temptation. This is his chance. To charm her. To seduce her. To finally sleep with the girl he’s only ever dreamed about.

One night. That’s all he wants. That’s all it was supposed to be. But fantasies don’t stay clean. Obsession doesn’t stay controlled. And Jimin’s about to find out—when your dream girl lives next door, she can easily become your downfall.

She was never supposed to be real. And now he can’t get her out of his system.

pairing : park jimin x f! solo idol reader

genre : Idol AU , Dark Romance , Obsession , Angst , Smut , Drama , Slow Burn.

word count : 50k

warnings : Slight stalking / obsessive behavior (fan account, tracking content) Idol industry toxicity / fame pressure, Dark thoughts and morally grey Jimin, Sexual tension and explicit scenes , Jealousy, manipulation, blurred emotional boundaries, Mental/emotional strain and slow descent into obsession

part one

part two

part three

heyy tumblr !!

back with a brand new series and trust me—this one’s dangerous.

i just knew jimin was made for this role. he’s the perfect mix of seduction, obsession, and temptation wrapped in silk and sin 🤤.he’s not just the boy next door. he’s the one your mom warned you about. 👀

this series is heavily 18+—expect strong language, explicit content, and a whole lot of tension, so buckle up and keep your gear (and sanity) close. 😛

as always, reblogs, likes, comments, and kisses are more than welcome here 🫶🏼

with love,

xo, ario

masterlist

[melancholy-of-nadia]

i'm not sure?! (m) | jjk/pjm/kth

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.

-

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-

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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[joonjuul]

kiss it better. pjm

pairing: bestfriend!jimin x victim!reader

wc: 6.4k

warnings: soft!jimin, gentle!jimin, victim!reader, reader is in an abusive relationship, light blood, hitting, bruising, cheating, fingering (f receiving), shower fingering????, multiple orgasms, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), soft sex, some fluff/aftercare, reader’s boyfriend is unnamed, jimin basically takes care of you after your boyfriend hits you

a/n: saw an edit of jimin to kiss it better by rihanna last night and had this idea, absolutely obsessed with soft jimin, reqs still open!!

╋━

you feel the second blow land on your cheek, your eyes welling up more as you notice the blood rushing to your once gentle skin.

like always, it was your fault you were in this mess. you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress out, you knew you would be actively disobeying your boyfriend’s orders, but for once you wanted to feel like you were free, knowing damn well you were whatever he wanted you to be. you made a mistake, and now you were facing the repercussions.

“i don’t want to do this, you know that.” you watch as your boyfriend leans down, your eyes meeting as he matches your stance on the floor, allowing you to see eye to eye. you’re unable to gather a response, only look up at him through teary eyes as you wait for another strike.

he brings a hand up to your face, gently running a finger along the scattered marks on your cheek. the touch, although subtle, only making the burning worse. you wince in pain, slightly pulling your head away and watch as he notices your response and returns to his feet, his expression cold and distant.

“you did this to yourself, y/n.” you watch him carefully from the ground as he turns around, bringing his hands under the sink to wash specks of blood off his knuckles, which were now painted in velvet, ironically your favorite color.

“you know how much i love you, right?” his back is facing you as he speaks, his voice laced with what can only be described as fake as he reaches for a towel, drying his hands carefully.

“i know.” you mumble, your voice breaking as you feel yourself holding back tears, your throat almost on fire by how much you want to cry, but you knew better than to let him see you in this state.

he turns back around to face you, throwing the paper towel out and leaning down to your fragile state, using his hands to pick you up and stand you on your feet. he placed a finger under your chin, moving your face to the side to carefully inspect your wounds. you watch his face contort, his eyebrows furrow as he looks at the destruction he inflicted on your once perfect skin.

“tsk tsk, gonna have to wear a mask to work tomorrow, tell people you’re sick.” he speaks normally, unaffected, as if he doesn’t care, and begins walking away.

“when is this going to end?” you turn back to face him as he’s halfway towards your shared bedroom door.

“excuse me?” you watch as his feet shift, your eyes meeting as he stands across the room, his demeanor now more angry than he was before, if that’s even possible. you knew talking back was the worst possible thing to do in this situation, but you were tired, unhappy, and down right over it.

“i’m tired of this. tired of being pushed around, hit, unable to do anything or exist. im not happy anymore.” you watch as his face stays stone cold but you know his brain is turning.

you feel yourself back up instinctively as he approaches you, his steps swift and powerful as he stops right in front of your face.

“if you’re tired of it then stop doing things that you know are wrong.” god when did he become so mean? he was the sweetest boy in the world to you, it wasn’t until you moved in with each other about a year ago that he began to act like this.

you scoff at him, walking past him as you brush his shoulder in the process, picking up your jacket and heading towards the door, not even putting on shoes in the process.

“so what just like that you’re gonna leave?” he questions, watching as you put your hand on the doorknob to your once hope filled apartment. you turn back to face him, throwing your jacket on as you feel your eyes begin to well up again.

“i just… need some time.” you say as you begin to turn the doorknob, taking a step out of your apartment as you feel his hand on your wrist, turning you around to face him.

he’s mere inches away from you, his face contorted with rage as he grits through his teeth.

“if i find out you end up somewhere you shouldn’t be tonight… we’re done.” you examine his expression, your eyes dancing between his lips to his furrowed brows and then down to his hand around your wrist.

without another word, you pull your hand away and make your way out the door to the elevator.

despite his yelling from behind you about god knows what, you refuse to turn around, refuse to face him.

once you feel the cold cement against your bare feet, and the smell of the new york city air at night, you can’t help the tears that stream down your cheeks as you break down completely. and before you know it, you’re running.

it’s completely subconscious when your feet end up carrying you 10 blocks down, your chest heaving and your eyes swollen shut from the cold air combined with your overwhelming amount of tears. but here you were, collapsed on his door step.

this was the last place you should be, and you knew that. you remember your boyfriend’s words as you were leaving, you knew exactly who he was talking about, and yet here you were.

you’re unable to knock on his door, only lay sobbing on the cement stairs leading to his building. he was on the first floor, and you prayed he could hear you, sense you were here as you were unable to move anymore. your body completely overrun with exhaustion and pain as you fought for your breaths.

and then, as if it was a miracle, or maybe a sign, you heard the door creek, and the sweet familiar sound of his soothing voice as he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around you and carrying you inside.

“are you okay? what happened? what’s wrong?” his voice was so gentle, so soothing, and although you were breathing too heavy to provide a response, you were still grateful for his thoughtfulness.

he laid you down on his couch carefully, his eyes quickly falling to the bruises and cuts on your face.

“oh my god y/n, what did he do to you?” you feel the tears begin to fall again at his words as he quickly went into his kitchen and grabbed a wash cloth, running it under some water and returning to your place on the couch.

he leaned before you, sat on his knees as he brought the towel to your face, the wetness soothing your marks much more than your tears had been doing as he places a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm you down.

“shhh just breathe, it’s okay, just breathe.” something about him always calmed you down, and before you knew it, you weren’t crying anymore, and instead were sitting across from him obediently as he tended to your wounds.

“what happened?” he questioned, and without the tears clouding your vision, you were able to see his beautiful sculpted face in front of you, his blonde hair sat messily on top of his head, slightly wet as if he had just showered, and his beautiful pink plump lips that you always stared at a little too long.

“i wore that dress you got me… for my birthday.” you spoke quietly, watching as your best friend’s face changed from soft to angry, almost infuriated at the idea that your boyfriend would lay a hand on you. jimin was your best friend, of course he knew things like this were happening, but he never knew the extent of it, and he never got involved because you begged him so many times to leave it alone. but things had gotten worse the past couple months, and you hadn’t been able to see him due to your boyfriend’s restrictions. he knew how much jimin cared about you, and knew that if you ever had to chose between the two of them, you wouldn’t chose him.

he brought a hand up to your face, carefully tucking a hair behind your ear as he scattered soothing strokes across your cheek that had yet to be marked.

“im so sorry, y/n. i should’ve never given that to you. god i should kill him for this. i should fucking kill him.”

“stop, jimin. this isn’t your fault and you know it.” you bring your hand up to his, taking his fingers within yours as you relish in the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

“i told him i needed time to think. i left. god i don’t know what im going to do.” you cover your face, trying your best not to cry again as you question whether or not you made the right decision. he would never leave you alone, he would track you down, go to your work, show up at your apartment. it happened before. where would you even live now that you’ve moved in together? you felt your head begin to spin with all the uncertainty and jimin quickly noticed, cupping your face with his hands as he brought your head up to look at him.

“hey, listen to me. you do not need to make a decision right now, okay? im here, im not leaving you. we’ll get through this together, okay?” you almost want to cry at his words. you had never met a man who cared about you as much as jimin. your whole life you had been pushed around and bullied by men, even by your father. and jimin came along and licked up every one of your wounds, he cared about you when no one else did.

you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug, the feeling of his hands wrapping around your waist made you only melt deeper.

“thank you. im so sorry i know you like your quiet time and your space-“

“are you kidding? i haven’t seen you in weeks, you’re more than welcome here and you know it.” he pulls away from the hug smiling as he leans in and kisses your forehead, standing to his feet and walking over to the kitchen.

“now, let’s get you out of that dress, yeah? as beautiful as you look i doubt you’re comfortable.” he throws the towel down onto the counter as he walks back to you, taking your hand in his as he leads you to his bedroom.

“does this mean i can raid your closet?” you ask excitedly. you always loved stealing his t-shirts, you didn’t know why but they were just so damn comfortable.

you heard him laugh gently, “of course.” and you can’t help but use your last bit of energy to jump excitedly, running to his closet and quickly finding a t-shirt that you think you’d like the most.

as much as he was happy to see you, jimin was doing his best to keep his composure right now. he was insanely protective of you, and the fact that your piece of shit boyfriend was possibly going to get away with this drove him mad. this was the first time he had seen you smile in months, and he refused to let it be the last. he was going to keep you away from that man no matter what it took.

you turned to face him, holding the shirt up before receiving a nod of approval. you smile before your face turns slightly, watching as jimin stands across from you.

“umm hello? a little privacy?” you tease and watch as jimin chuckles lowly in response.

“why don’t you take a hot shower, it might help.” he walks closer to you, taking the shirt from your hand and leading you to the bathroom.

“come on i don’t want to use up all your hot water like i did last time, you know i take long showers.” you protest, but they’re no use as jimin leans into the tub and turns the shower on, the steam quickly filling the confined space.

“trust me, i’ll be fine.” he laughs again, before heading to the door. you feel a strange pang in your chest at the thought of being alone. it was a strange sensation, but it made you feel like your head was going to explode. you quickly grab his hand before he’s able to exit, turning him to face you.

“im sorry it’s just… i don’t really want to be alone right now.” you say meekly, looking down at your feet in embarrassment.

jimin’s blood runs cold at your proposal, but he was a good man, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you in this vulnerable state.

“i’ll be right on the other side of the door.” he says again, tapping your hand reassuringly before trying to leave again, only for you to pull his wrist harder.

“please.” jimin feels his dick twitch as your gentle begging, but quickly removes the thought from his brain. he stands still for a moment, looking at your state before landing on your eyes, they were full of desperation, not in a lustful way, but in a painful way. you had been through so much. he felt his heart break gently before turning his body around completely and shutting the door completely, now enclosing you both into the small space.

“okay.” he watches as a small smile appears on your lips.

“no looking though.” you tease as you place your hands on his shoulders and turn him around to face the door.

“yeah yeah.” you loved how you could be playful with him, it was something you never experienced with your boyfriend, he was always so serious all the time, never tried to make you smile or do little things to keep you happy. jimin was like a breath of fresh air, everytime you looked at him you could feel your heart flutter in your chest, he was more than just your best friend, he was your soulmate.

you carefully peel your dress off, checking occasionally to make sure he’s not peaking, but of course, he’s not.

you carefully step into the shower, pulling the curtain back and feeling a wave of warmth wash over your body. the gentle sting of the water against your wounds barely noticeable due to the pure relaxation you felt, your body being consumed by the heat of the shower.

“okay you can turn around now.” you say from behind the curtain, which concealed you from his view completely.

jimin turns around, carefully making sure you’re not visible, before taking a seat on the toilet and leaning back, allowing himself to relish in the humidity and warmth of the small room.

“how does it feel?” his voice is so perfect and sweet, the sound mixed with the subtle scent of his soap, and the heat of the shower sending shots to your core. his presence in the room felt so intimate, even though you weren’t touching.

“mmm it feels good.” you hum, leaning your head back to wet your hair completely, your body feeling fully at ease as you feel the knots in your back loosening, all stress from the day, from the last couple months washing away and swirling down the drain beneath you.

you enjoy the silence for a moment, knowing that jimin was close to you and still providing you with comfort despite the fact that you weren’t speaking. you begin to wash yourself carefully, starting with your hair, before landing on your body. you didn’t particularly want to clean yourself with men’s body wash, but you didn’t have much of an option, plus it was jimin’s, so you’d at least smell like him for a couple hours, and that thought alone made you feel completely full of love.

but you were missing something, a wash cloth.

“jimin do you mind grabbing me a wash cloth?” you ask through the curtain. you don’t hear a response from him, only the rustling of some drawers before you see his shadow approach the curtain.

you pull the side of it back slightly, and poke your head out to retrieve the towel, quickly realizing how close he was to the curtain, your faces only an inch apart as his eyes land on yours.

you’re unable to conjure any words, the closeness now feeling more intimate than you could’ve imagined, and you feel your core begin to tingle at the thought of his beautiful plump lips enclosing around yours.

you swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes tracing down his body and landing on his hand, which gripped the towel tightly, his knuckles white as opposed to the dark velvet of your boyfriend’s.

you bring your hand down, gliding it across his wrist gently as you note the subtle goosebumps that appear under his skin, before landing on the towel and slowly pulling it from his grip.

you bring your eyes back up to his, now slightly lidded as he looks down at you, his cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted.

it took nearly every bone in his body to keep from kissing you. he had always felt something special towards you, something he was never able to quite put his finger on. you were everything to him, his entire world, his best friend, his soulmate, but never once had you crossed the line and been anything else. you’d never even kissed each other, it was always strictly platonic. it was part of the reason why jimin always felt you had such a strong relationship, because you didn’t let your male-female instincts get involved. but right now, he wanted to cross the line, he wanted to show you what real love felt like, he wanted to ease all the pain in your body, take care of you in more ways than one. it was killing him.

you feel your cheeks blush as he brings a hand up to your face, his fingers cold as they run against your hot skin, the contrast quickly stirring something within your stomach.

“jimin.” your voice is a hushed whisper as you look up at him. you weren’t sure what you were begging for, whether or not you were begging at all. but you were overwhelmed with the tension between you too, it was more than you could bare.

he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the way you said his name, it was like an angel was stood before him, it would be almost sinful to now show you how much you meant to him.

his hand fully encloses around your cheek as he leans in gently, his eyes dancing between yours to look for any resistance, but he’s met with none. in fact, he notices how you gently lean in too, your eyes hooded as you feel your lips connect with one another, and just like that, everything else melts away.

his skin was cold against yours, his lips dry as yours were wet and warm, the contrast overwhelming you completely as you feel yourself fall into him. he brings his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, your wet hair tangling within his fingers as he pulls you deeper into the kiss, his tongue quickly swiping past your lips and into your mouth.

it was unlike any kiss you’d ever had, it wasn’t rough, in fact it was just the opposite; it was soothing. it felt like every wrongdoing you’d ever experienced in your life no longer existed, like you and jimin were the only two people on earth, like your souls were meeting together for the first time. it was pure passion, pure affection, pure love.

you moan gently into his mouth at his touch, his other hand slipping past the curtain and falling on your waist, rubbing gentle circles along your wet skin. your body was on fire, it was as if every move he made, every touch you felt was heightened, and you couldn’t get enough.

you bring your hands to his shirt, pulling him towards you, signaling for him to join you. jimin pulls away from the kiss slowly, his eyes falling on yours as you watch his lips turn a deeper shade of pink, his face slightly wet and shirt covered in small droplets of water as he looks at you deeply.

“are you sure?” his voice is velvety smooth as the words roll off his tongue, and unlike anything your boyfriend had asked of you, you knew jimin meant it.

you nod at him, feeling his hand fall from the back of your head back to your cheek as he gently rubs his fingers over the cuts and bruises, watching as you wince slightly from the pain.

his face turns slightly more serious now, his head tilting to the side and you know he’s worried about your mental and physical state. he’s a good man, and you loved that about him, but right now you wanted him to put his morals aside, just for tonight.

“im okay, i promise.” you reach up and grab his hand from your cheek reassuringly, and watch as he takes a step back from you before bringing his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

you admire the way his body is sculpted perfectly. of course you had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. it almost made him look more attractive in your eyes, and you found yourself noticing small freckles and moles you hadn’t noticed before, it was like your eyes were opening to what had been in front of you all along.

he brings his hands to the button of his jeans before looking up at you, his eyes silently signaling for you to turn around, and you roll yours in response before shutting the curtain and returning to your warm enclosure, hearing the sounds of his zipper and his pants being tossed carelessly off his legs somewhere in the background.

you close your eyes as you feel the water run down your chest and over your stomach, relishing in the tranquility of the situation for just a moment, until you hear the curtain pull back slowly, and small patter of his feet hitting the water before he joins in behind you.

you keep your eyes shut, your hands running through your hair as you allow the water to explore your face, running along the cuts and scrapes carefully, as if not to hurt you. and after what feels like hours, you feel a pair of hands land on your waist, rubbing gentle circles along your skin.

it feels like heaven, even the slightest touch from him is enough to overwhelm you completely.

you hear him take a step closer to you, his breath hot against your neck as leans down and places gentle kisses against your shoulder, lulling your head back against his chest.

“you’re so beautiful.” his voice is whispered as he continues to kiss up and down your shoulder before stopping at your neck. you feel your heart skip a beat as he breaths into the sensitive crook, almost as if he’s restraining himself, holding back. you bring your hand up to the back his head and pull him down into your neck, allowing him to roam free of your body, and he does just that. gently sucking and kissing every patch of skin he can find. it was completely different than what you were used to. your boyfriend was always so rough, marking you, bruising you in any way he possible could, but jimin was different, every touch, every kiss was deliberate, intricate, passionate. everything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

you can’t help the moans that slip past your lips as his hands begin to wander around your body, exploring your stomach, hips and waist, all while burying himself into your neck. it’s almost too much to bare.

you take a step backwards, now fully pressed against him as you feel his hard on slide up your back, earning a deep groan from him into your neck. you smile to yourself as you feel his movements become more needy, before finally landing between your legs. he stops for a moment, his hand trailing up your thighs as he waits for any signs of resistance, but you only spread them slightly to allow him better access.

he starts small, easy, bringing a finger up to your folds and tracing them carefully, watching as you moan and twist your body in response. to which he dives between your folds, taking his time on your clit, rubbing torturous circles on your bundle of nerves before falling down to your hole, prodding it gently as he watches your body melt against him.

he uses his other hand to move your hair to the other side of your neck, allowing him better access to your skin as he sinks his head closer to your ear.

“are you sure about this?” his voice is so sweet, so gentle, barely a whisper as he places another kiss on your neck, circling your hole gently and noticing the distinct difference between your slick and the wetness of the shower.

you nod again, not able to audibly respond as you feel overwhelmed with need and pleasure.

“gonna need you to use your words, love.” he begins to circle your cunt slower now, placing another gentle kiss behind your ear as he brings his other hand down to your hip, holding you against him in a way that’s firm, but still gentle.

you nod again, “im sure, jimin.”

he scans your face again for any signs of discomfort, but doesn’t notice anything, he only notices the way your eyebrows crease together the slower he plays with your cunt, the way your butt instinctively wiggles against his dick, and the way your legs subconsciously spread for him the closer and closer he gets to your entrance.

he smiles to himself before placing another kiss on your neck as he slowly inserts the first finger.

you feel a moan slip past your lips as his digit stretches you out carefully, slipping past your entrance with ease as he quickly lands on your g-spot, curling his fingers perfectly to release another moan from your throat.

you allow your head to fall against his chest again as he places another kiss on your shoulder, his other hand steadying you against him as he sets on a tireless but gentle pace within your cunt.

you feel like he’s kissing every wound you’ve ever felt, even with his fingers as you allow yourself to completely and fully submit yourself to him. you trusted him more than anyone else in this world, even in such a vulnerable state you knew he’d never do anything to hurt you.

“there you go, shhh it’s okay, im here now, i’ve got you.” he mumbles into your neck as he watches you come undone completely, fully falling into his grasp as he works his skillful fingers in and out of your cunt. you feel your legs shake gently at the knot building within your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a very long time. in any other scenario you would be embarrassed by how quickly you began to reach your high, but not right now, not with him.

he notices how your legs begin to shake, how your moans begin to get louder and breathing increases, and he knows you’re getting close. as much as he wants to torture you, make you beg to cum, throw you over his leg and finger you until you can’t breathe anymore, he knows that what you need right now is relaxation. and if that means making you cum as many times as you want, he’s more than willing to oblige.

“close, baby?” he rasps against your ear, wrapping an arm around your stomach to better stabilize you as he continues to finger you, curling the single digit occasionally to only further your high.

you nod your head aggressively, getting lost in the way he feels, the way he talks, the feeling of the water against your chest, his dick poking your back slightly, his arm around your waist, and with the final curl of his finger, you feel yourself come undone completely.

you double over, your upper half only being held up by his arm around your waist as you tighten around his finger, pulling and pushing him out simultaneously as moans and hushed nothings spill from your lips.

“that’s it, good girl, good girl baby.” he praises, pulling his finger out of you and pulling your upper body back against him as he allows the water to run over your face and chest, bringing his hand up to your hair to push it out of your eyes gently, doing anything he can to soothe you during the intense wave of feelings.

you allow your breathing to stabilize as you relax against him, your legs shaking gently as you feel the water rush over you.

before you’re able to respond, you feel him lean in front of you, wrapping his hand against the knob and turning the water off.

you turn to face him, looking confused. “i-i wasn’t done.” your voice still shaking slightly from your interaction.

he shoots you a look, but still holds a slight smile on his face. “let’s be honest baby, you wouldn’t have been able to get anything done after that anyway.” you’re unable to gather a response as he begins helping you out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your body to dry you before carefully pulling the shirt over your head and body.

you stop for a moment, your eyes trailing down from his wet messy hair, to his chest, down to his perfectly pink throbbing cock.

you reach towards it, grabbing the head gently and watch as his knees buckle in response before quickly looking up at you and grabbing your hand, pulling it off carefully.

“don’t.” he shoots you a look, his voice sounding more serious than normal as he begins to dry himself off now, his eyes peaking through his hair occasionally and you admire how perfectly made he was. everything down to the very last detail, how could someone be so perfect?

“i want to.” you mumble, your eyes never leaving his.

“no you don’t, not tonight.” he breaks the eye contact as he puts the towel on a hook to dry, picking up his clothes from earlier and putting them back on.

“no, i do.” you take a step closer, placing a hand on his to stop his movements, pulling the clothes from his grip and dropping them back on the floor.

he looks at you for a moment, realizing your seriousness, and he knows he’ll only be able to restrain his desires for so long. without a response, he turns around and opens the door, walking back to his room as you hear him fumbling with some clothes in the closet as you quickly follow suit.

“you won’t hurt me, im okay.” you say popping into the room quickly. but still, no response.

he throws a clean shirt over his head and a pair of boxers over his legs as he faces the closet. you walk up behind him, admiring his shoulders for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his back.

you’re still for a moment, allowing yourself to relish in the moment, in his scent, he doesn’t respond, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable, it never is with the two of you. you’re about to close your eyes when you feel him quickly turn around, his hands finding your cheeks as he attaches his lips to yours, the kiss much more heated than it was earlier as he backs you up towards the bed, laying you down on your back, but his lips never once faltering.

he pulls away to carefully observe your expression, which although surprised, is not upset. he examines the marks on your face one last time, before watching you nod your head reassuringly, this was something you wanted, and you knew he wanted it too.

he leans off the bed, pulling his boxers down swiftly as his cock springs free once more, and he returns to his place above you, a hand going in between the two of you as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

he brings the head between your folds, rubbing it up and down, collecting as much wetness as he can before stopping on your clit and pressing against it gently.

you moan in response, feeling more desperate than ever as he brings his cock back down to your hole, carefully nudging it and watching as your face contorts with pleasure.

“promise me this is what you want.” his eyes scan your face, dancing between your eyes as you nod your head in agreement, bringing a hand up to his cheek to stroke it gently.

“i promise.”

he leans down to kiss you, his lips feverish as he pushes his cock inside of you slowly, allowing your walls to stretch around his girth. you moan into the kiss, the feeling of his cock filling you up making your head spin with pleasure.

he continues to swallow your moans before bottoming out completely, his head nudging perfectly against your g spot as he adjusts his hips, rubbing against it teasingly, making you squeal out of sensitivity.

jimin pulls away from the kiss, looking down at your perfect face before leaning down and kissing the marks along your cheeks gently. he pulls his hips back as he begins to fall on a perfect pace, not too slow but not too fast.

“let me make it better.” his voice is almost a beg as he continues to kiss your cheek, one hand steadying himself by your head while the other holds your hip firmly in place.

you can’t help the noises that leave your body, the pleasure completely consuming you between his praises, and the way his cock perfectly fits inside of you.

“jimin.” you moan, your breath hot as he pulls back from your face and dives into the crook of your neck, continuing to place gentle kisses along your skin as his hips keep their pace perfectly.

your hands land to his hair, gripping it tightly as he works his magic on you. it was almost euphoric. the feeling of his cock stretching you out, the perfect words falling from his perfect lips, the trail of wet kisses along your body, it was pure bliss, and it was more than just sex. he wasn’t fucking you, you were making love.

he pulls away from your neck, his eyes landing on yours as his hips begin to roll into you, your eyes falling to the back of your head as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

“doing so well, baby. so perfect for me.” his praises shoot straight to your core as you feel another knot begin to build in your stomach. you wrap your legs around his waist, angling his cock directly into your g-spot as the pressure begins to build deeper and deeper, causing your moans to only increase in volume.

jimin carefully brings a hand up to your mouth, muffling your moans as his hips move faster.

“as beautiful as you sound, i still live in an apartment, baby.” he chuckles, feeling your breathing against his hand increase as you approach your second high of the night.

you feel your legs begin to shake again as you tighten their hold around his waist, causing his hips to stutter gently, the feeling of your walls constricting around him only making it harder for him to hold back.

“fuck, you’re close again, aren’t you?” he looks down at you, your eyes half shut as he removes his hand from your mouth to allow you to respond, but still, you only moan and nod your head in return.

“okay baby, it’s okay.” he says soothingly as he brings his now free hand between you to land on your clit, rubbing circles around it as his pace increases more now, watching as you begin to writhe in pleasure beneath him. he can feel how close you are, the way you tighten around him, the way your legs shake gently, and it’s only pushing him closer to the edge.

“fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” he groans, ducking his head into the crook of your neck as he ruts into you, feeling your walls constrict one last time as you release onto him, his cock now soaked with your juices as your body flinches beneath him.

his hips stutter for a moment at the feeling of you tightening around him again, and he barely has enough time to pull out of you before painting your stomach white. he would do anything to cum inside of you, coat your walls with his seed but he would save it for another time.

he collapses on top of you, both of your bodies heaving and sweaty as you hold each other close, the feeling of your breathing against each other being the most intimate moment of the night.

he pulls his head back to admire you for a moment, your cheeks flushed, your body panting, his cum perfectly scattered on your stomach, before quickly running off and grabbing a towel, returning as soon as he can to clean you off properly.

he pulls your shirt down over your body before laying down beside you and pulling you towards him, your bodies now meshed together perfectly as you fit into one another, your breathing still somewhat quick as you come down from what was probably the most intense moment of your life.

he looks down at you, a small smile on his face as he realizes he might’ve made your decision to leave your boyfriend a little easier knowing you had someone who actually loved you, and wanted to take care of you in any way he could.

he begins to draw small patterns on your arm, holding you close as he allows you to drift off into sleep on his chest, staring at the ceiling as he listens to your breathing slow and small snores escape your lips.

silently thanking the gods above that you fell on his doorstep that night, and not anyone else’s.

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare would enlist himself into the military just to show the boys.

chapter iv. ✷ chapter vi.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — he’s not really thinking about enlisting, is he?

( ♬ ) — what do you mean shakespeare shaved his head?.. oh no.

( ✎ ) — don’t military bases have security? how the hell did that man get inside?

( ♛ ) — he’s proper pulling a cross country right now. the boys look confused. and horrified.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, did you miss me? it’s been a while since i’ve shared my secret recommendations with you. but, since the two year anniversary of this special series has recently passed, i thought it was about time i spoiled you again. i’ve had quite a while to think about this one. so, i hope you’re ready. let’s give shakespeare something to enlist for.

( ♛ ) AMALTHEA — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 40k !!

best friend’s older brother!au, smut (18+), fluff, angst.

bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my friend’s brother! bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother!

this is one of the BEST seokjin fics i’ve ever read. straight to the point but there is no other way to put it. got to the point i would wake up earlier just to read another chapter before work. i was always present, bitch.

alike most of you, as someone who reads A LOT (re: i have no credentials for this, just my mum), i can tell when someone pours their every blood, sweat and tears (ha.) into writing. and for me, this is one of those writers.

this writer really shocked me at how much i connected to this story whilst reading n how attached i felt after finishing. caught me off guard, but so did death to shakespeare… sooo, what can i say.

“it’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don't know if he meant his family, or you.” dude i wish you could’ve seen my face. lmfao.

let’s just say there’s a reason this one’s first. amazed. truly.

( ♛ ) MOON MAGIC — by @jincherie

!! hoseok x reader | 33.8k !!

mermaid!au, pirate!au, fluff (like.. teeth rotting).

“and he calls me mooonlight toooooo,” she sings into the empty crowd with tears in her eyes. she meaning me.

now i know i’m known for having a sweet tooth, but damn! youse are gonna eventually turn me into an elizabethan england commoner. y’know, the crap dental hygiene n all. (re: shakespeare’s teeth.)

but, you know me. i looooove a good ‘ol fantasy inspired fic, so i guess i’m willing to risk a little here. and this one was worth risking for.

slams hand onto the table. the world building! this writer was not playing around when it came to painting us a picture of the world they wanted to create. i wanna live in this fic i’m not joking. get me in touch with namjoon asap for some of that moon magic shit. ok, rolls credits.

perfect in every single way. this is my first run-in with this writer, but am i swimming (sorry.) my way over to their masterlist? yeeees.

“he laughs and tells you that, actually, it's probably the youngest three princes that are most beloved by all.”

yea girl. not on my watch. enjoy!

( ✎ ) ALL GROWN UP — by @btsgotjams27

!! jungkook x reader | 64k !!

friends to lovers, older woman/younger man, smut (18+).

the fact this fic was loosely inspired by one of my all-time comfort kdramas… i didn’t even have to question adding it to my list. it felt like i was watching it for the first time again… deeply sighs. ahhh the nostalgia…

i had this fic bookmarked on my ao3 for the looongest time, but it was only recently that i got round to actually reading it. and i’m so glad i did. bless her, she was waiting for her moment to shine. and it’s now.

youngest kids in the family please raise your hands! all in attendance! you are welcome and appreciated here. the feeling of desperation, trying to get people to see you as your current age rather than the little kid they’ll forever remember. i think that’s why i loved this fic so much: i could relate to it.

alike this story, most fics on here are on the older side of things. but honestly, if it’s good and genuine, it’ll last forever. no matter how much time has gone by. feelings stay - perhaps even grow?

the same for our adorable pair over here. could time play in their favour?

you let me know when you finish it.

( ✮ ) ALIVE AHA FXCK — by @softyoongiionly

!! vampire!yoongi x human!reader | 42k !!

vampire!au, smut (18+), soulmate!au (you know i had to), please read the trigger warnings.

devoured. no pun intended. though other vampire synonyms include but are not limited to: consumed, ate, guzzled, feasted etc… thank you google, after a few questionable internet searches.

i cannot tell you how glad i am that shakespeare never wrote about vampires. cuz he would’ve written my ass into that damn thing and killed me off from the things i’ve said about that guy. and the things i will continue to say…

i love this fic on a personal level. it reminds me of being fourteen again, curled up in my sheets as the sun reaches the tip of my windowsill and the morning chill settles in after a night of fighting sleep to finish a fanfic. it’s safe - i’m safe.

i genuinely had so much fun reading this story. the characterisation of both the reader and yoongi is so unhinged and playful and i’m obsessed. if i could recommend it to anyone, it would be my younger self cuz i know she’d love it :,). n she did!

y’know, sometimes you just gotta read a silly - infused with twilight puns - vampire-themed yoongi fic for the world to feel alright again.

and it did - for me. n now - for you.

( ♛ ) OLDER — by @lovieku

!! dilf!jk x inexperienced!reader | 18.2k !!

smut (18+), dilf!au, best friend’s father, age gap.

pure, undeniable and utter filth. in the best fuckin’ way possible. yea, if you could crawl into my mind, plunge into the inky depths of whatever lurks there.. this is what you’d find lying on the sand floor. unadulterated sin.

i am so disgustingly obsessed with this fic i can’t explain it, hence why it’s ended up on my shelf of recommendations. it scratches and pleases a deep, desperate itch in my brain. maybe it’s the age gap, who knows?

this writer has a talent for making us - or, me. - claw at something forbidden in an almost hungry advance. the sinner doing the sinning. and goddamn, i’m impressed. n i bet shakespeare is too. well, he fuckin’ better be.

the characters are imperfect and selfish and lustful, but oh my god i love them. add on dilf!jk with his slutty, unbuttoned shirts and you have me sold.

@lovieku you are such an amazing writer. you have such a way with how you express. do not underestimate that. i am beyond excited to see your future works :)

masterpiece. but what the fuck was that ending.

( ♛ ) HABITS OF A CLANDESTINE NATURE — by @alphabetboyluvr

!! college!jk x female!oc | 16k !!

rich!jk, waitress!oc, enemies to lovers, smut (18+).

he got, he got away! he got away! he got away! he’s got a way, he’s got a way! awayyyyheyeyyyyheyyy! yea, but didn’t manage to escape a 460-year-old poet, nor me.. so..

clementines, fruit trees, the sound of innocent laughter, wind chimes, a sheer blur of colour, soft hands. things that come to mind whenever i am reminded of this fic. a solid and beautiful depiction of hurt and love and everything in between.

this writer knew straight off the bat how to sell this pair to the audience. how to capture us and string us along for the journey of two hurting, longing and hurting all over again. shakespeare bought the hanging fruit that’s for damn sure… me too then, perhaps.

the vision for this story is perfect to me. i almost want to give the writer a kiss on the forehead.

i did write down one quote; used from the story. a way to sum it all up. “the perfect place to get lost. the perfect place to get found, too.”

if you’re looking for somewhere to get lost, i hope this satisfies that need. i also hope i come back to read this every once in a while. for old times sake. to get found again.

( ♬ ) GUILTY AS SIN — by @gldrushh

!! brother in law!jungkook x widow!reader | 32k !!

forbidden love!au, smut (18+), angst.

“it began to lose its meaning. healing. as if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.” oh, don’t even talk to me. people died. shakepeare died. april 23rd 1616.

god, this story is just so raw in and of itself - perfectly depicting the human experience of love and loss. inevitable and sometimes unexpected. i was - n still remain - in awe.

i crossed by this fic unexpectedly and i’m so glad that whatever butterfly effect led me to finding this succeeded, but damn that action also had consequences… like real bad… haha….

i want to cry every time this fic crosses my mind. dramatic? lil bit. but when you read it, holy shit - this will make sense to you young’uns. in due time.

well, to be even more dramatic as such… my wounds from reading this are still fresh (i will sob don’t test me), so i hand the torch over to you to make of this story what you will.

please go into this fic with no expectations. go in willingly and just… fall into it. i will be on the other side when you resurface and i will definitely say something ironic.

like i told you so. xx.

( ♛ ) CALLING PRODUCER MIN YOONGI — by @bangtan-dreamland

!! yoongi x reader | 4.6k !!

strangers to lovers, just fluff all around.

now this is the bitch i aspire to be. dials random ass numbers of random ass strangers just to yap. oh yea, that’s my kinda girl. i just hope she knows she’s the coolest person ever to exist to me. i want to buy a star for her. a big, bright one.

i think i have said this before, but never ever underestimate the power of a drabble. a short fic of little can hold the weight of ten times that amount. especially this one (which i read that long ago but has ultimately ended up here - says it all tbh).

this fic is everything and more to me. i miss it when i’m not reading it, and i miss it when it’s right in front of me. it has me wanting to ring up random people in hopes of meeting my true love - which i won’t, but who knows what might happen?

also, to point out - the immense chemistry between these characters is off the charts. felt like i was intruding on my own phone call.

good dialogue? tick. amazing characterisation? tick. interesting plot? tick. has shakespeare wanting to never learn how to use a phone in case he puts this fic to shame? tick.

lol.

( ✎ ) THE LOVE PROGNOSIS — by @awrkive

!! surgeon!jk x surgeon!reader | 90.9k !!

roommates!au, medical!au, smut (18+), fluff.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh. aaaand scene!

can i be honest? y’all stress me the fuck out! and you know who you are! starts with ‘j’ ends with ‘k’. the other one being ‘s’ ends with ‘e’. but one of you i like more and it’s not you, shakespeare.

the time it took me to finish this insanely crafted three-parter was embarrassingly short. (i think i formed a dent in my bed). so when i finished i was - obviously - heartbroken, so i did what every sane person does. i read all the drabbles. aaaand the tlp social media extras. and listened to the playlist. and cried. duh.

whilst all the fics on here deserve their own kdrama, i feel this one would ruin me completely. it’s weightlifting fairy kim bok joo all over again. it’s potential is there. like, c’mon screenwriters. i know you want to. or just pay me to do it.

the characters, the yearning, the friendship - immediately gets flashbacks… - ten’s across the board!

@awrkive is one to look out for. for real. i - along with everyone else here - will be tuning in. full volume.

oh yea, whilst we’re all still here. fuck that other guy. you know who you are! (no spoilers here).

( ♛ ) LET’S GET QUIZZICAL — by @taleasnewastime

!! jimin x f!reader | 28.6k !!

friends to lovers, angst, smut (18+).

sooooo… what i’m hearing is.. we all weren’t aware flo rida’s stage name is just florida with a space..? right? right.? cuz when you say it like that..

having been a victim of multiple pub quizzes in my past (haven’t won - yet!) the dialogue in this story was fucking perfect and scary real, depicting the anxiety, thrill and pure adrenaline running through your body as you rack your brain of every dumb fact you’ve ever read and hope it’s made a home somewhere up there.

not to mention you gotta trust your teammates like your life depends on it - cuz it fuckin’ does. n park jimin being one of them? the rest of the teams… y’all better not even bother showing up atp.

i thought the manor of the story being told through its settings was.. a slice of genius. so so cool and helped set the tone too. every time we transported back to the quiz i clutched my pearls in sheer relief.

also, i wish i could’ve highlighted angst in bold cause damn! you really hit us round the head with that one. and ofc i loved it, but damn. take notes, shakespeare. we don’t have to be killing characters off to ruin mk’s life. hm?

nothing less than spectacular from our @taleasnewastime.

( ♬ ) TRICKS OF THE TRADE — by @stutterfly

!! yoongi x reader | 24.1k !!

body swap!au, soulmates!au (you know me), smut (18+), humour.

peers down through speckled glasses, what’s next..? …oh god. sighs heavily and licks pen.

so i knew from the moment i read ‘body swap’ within the tags that this concept was gonna be so fuckin’ weird but so damn good. and low n behold, it didn’t disappoint. luckily i am a lover of fuckin’ weird.

this concept is so difficult to write. the foreign sensation of a different body and trying to channel each thought n emotions involved is complicated to convey, but this author did it so incredibly well.

also, not to be that person… but that smut… i’m gon’ be sleeping soooo well tonight let’s just say that lmfao. 100/10. might go back n read it when i’m done with this.

blushing… X

shakespeare couldn’t even fathom a story such as this - and we’re talking about the guy who once wrote about an incestuous relationship between a king and his daughter.

crazy work. you are so cool @stutterfly.

( ✎ ) TRIVIA LOVE — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x reader | 5.4k !!

non idol!au, smut (18+).

to quote myself from my reblog on feb 26 2020, “why was i smiling the whole way throughout this??” n you know what? hell yea i still stand by that!

this is the second pub quiz fic i have within this chapter (surprisingly, but not disappointing), but the circumstances cannot be more different.

the first group i would join, perhaps even rally with a little. but if i’m ever attending a pub night and these mother fuckers are in tow, best believe i’m leaving. they’re not ones to fuck with yo. they have $20 to win. they mean war.

since we’re at the end, and i’m 100% convinced nobody is still reading these, soooo… i can speak my truth. someone get me on joon’s lap. you gon’ be calling me cinderella cuz it’s gonna fit perfectly by midnight bro. on the dot.

this is - n will always be - a classic to me. one that i will always return to eventually. i can dress up all i want with these big fics, but these smaller ones are always a guilty pleasure.

like cinderella returning to her mice friends (or whatever), i will always come back to @luxekook and their stories.

forever xoxo.

MARKNEE’S SPECIAL MENTIONS:

caught my attention, and deserve their flowers.

( ♬ ) THE DEVIL SKATES ON THIN ICE — by @vankoya

!! yoongi x reader | 60.5k !!

winter sports!au, fluff, angst, humour.

my love life also skates on thin ice. lmfao. especially after this.

( ✎ ) KNOCKED — by @sailoryooons

!! streamer!seokjin x f!reader | 10.6k !!

roommates to lovers, smut (18+), humour.

more like she’s about to knock him out.

( ♬ ) NEFARIOUS — by @yoonia

!! jimin x f!reader | 39.2k !!

sex club!au, gentlemen club!au, smut (18+).

lets out a long sigh. won’t be in a rush to forget this one.

( ✎ ) THINGS WE DON’T SAY — by @wintaerbaer

!! taehyung x reader | 54.5k !!

best friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut.

the found family trope is strooong.

© marknee, 2025. all rights reserved.

[bytemee]

MAKE A WISH — yu jimin.

"it's your birthday, make a wish."

synopsis. it's your birthday.

pairing. sugar!mommy!karina x beefy!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ (smut), g!p reader, dom!karina(?), oral (r receiving), unprotected sex, finishing inside ahaha, she calls u good girl ahahadiohgjh, L smut, and let me know if there's more!

words. 2. sum k

authors note. would become an idol just to try the cakes they give them and drop it on purpose

navigation. main masterlist. request.

you barely had the energy to unlock the door.

your body ached from another brutal shift, your mind foggy from endless assignments and back-to-back exams. all you wanted was to collapse face-first into bed and maybe sleep for twelve hours straight.

your birthday barely crossed your mind.

but the second you stepped inside, the scent of something sweet hit you—vanilla, caramelized sugar, and something faintly floral.

karina stood in the center of your small apartment, looking devastatingly beautiful in an off-shoulder black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. her hair fell over one shoulder in soft waves, framing her lovely face and bright smile.

a small, elegant cake sat on the counter, a single candle flickering on top.

and then, there were the gifts.

boxes—neatly wrapped in expensive paper—lined your coffee table. chanel, cartier, prada. a sleek black bag sat beside them, probably stuffed with things you couldn’t afford even if you worked a hundred shifts.

you sighed, dropping your bag. “karina…”

she tilted her head. “you sound disappointed.”

you stepped closer, rubbing a hand down your face. “i told you not to get me anything.”

a slow smirk curled her lips. “and i told you it wasn’t up to you.”

your shoulders slumped as you sighed, but before you could say anything else, she was already moving. in a few steps, she was behind you, her hands sliding over your shoulders, applying just enough pressure to make you groan.

“you work too hard,” she murmured, kneading into the knots at the base of your neck.

you let out an involuntary hum, your body betraying you as you melted beneath her touch.

“i have to,” you mumbled, leaning back slightly.

karina tsked, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “not tonight.” she reached forward, resting her hands on your shoulders as she guided you toward the table. “sit down, baby.”

you didn’t have the energy to fight her, so you sank into the chair in front of the cake. the small flame flickered, casting warm light across karina’s features as she leaned against the counter beside you.

“make a wish,” she said, her voice softer now.

you stared at the candle, feeling a lump rise in your throat.

there were so many things you could wish for—less stress, more sleep, a break from the relentless pressure of school and work.

but the truth was, the only thing you wanted was her.

so, you closed your eyes, inhaled deeply, and blew out the candle.

when you opened them again, her hands slid down your arms, her lips brushing your cheek. “good girl,” she murmured against your skin.

a shiver ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach.

you turned your head slightly, catching the teasing smirk on her face. you bit your lip, fighting a smile as she pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. it was a quick brush of her lips, but it sent your heart racing. “if you keep calling me that,” you muttered, “i’m gonna start thinking you want something from me.”

karina chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to your neck. “who says i don’t?”

a soft sigh escaped you, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached for her, fingers curling around the silk of her dress as you tugged her closer. she let you, settling between your legs with an amused hum.

her hands slid down your arms, fingertips tracing the veins along your forearms before she intertwined your fingers with hers.

“you’re supposed to be the one spoiling me tonight,” you murmured, squeezing her hands gently.

karina leaned in, her nose brushing yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“then let me,” she whispered.

you didn’t hesitate.

tilting your head, you closed the distance, capturing her lips with your own. karina released your hands, reaching up to cup your face as she kissed you back eagerly. there was none of her usual finesse, none of the slow buildup that drove you wild. it was all heat and desperation, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing in their rush to taste each other.

and god, did she taste good.

it made your head spin as she pressed against you, her lips moving against yours hungrily. your hands came to rest on her waist, holding her close as she pushed forward. her thigh slid between your legs, dragging against your groin as she crowded you against the table.

a moan slipped past your lips, swallowed by her kiss.

she pulled away just far enough to rest her forehead against yours, her dark eyes filled with lust.

you tightened your grip on her waist, tugging her down onto your lap as her fingers threaded into your hair. karina let out a small gasp, her hips rocking against yours instinctively as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. you trailed kisses along her skin, biting softly at the juncture where her shoulder met her neck. she rolled her hips again, sending another jolt of arousal straight to your front.

the scent of her perfume filled your lungs with every shaky breath you took, drowning out the sweetness of the cake beside you.

"best birthday gift ever," you mumbled against her collarbone.

karina laughed, the sound bright and beautiful. "wait! try the cake."

you pulled away, cocking an eyebrow.

she smiled, reaching over to pluck a fork off the counter before scooping up some frosting. she lifted it toward your mouth, watching as your lips parted obediently, taking the bite without question.

"mmm," you sighed happily as the vanilla melted across your tongue.

karina smiled, pulling the fork back. you watched as she licked the remaining frosting from it, swallowing thickly when she caught you staring.

"want another?" she asked, lifting another forkful to your lips.

you nodded, opening wide as she slid the bite into your mouth. you moaned at the taste, closing your eyes to savor the rich chocolate. when you opened them again, karina's gaze was fixed on your lips, her own parting slightly as she watched you suck the last bits of frosting from the fork.

karina’s fingers twitched against your arm.

her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching just enough for you to catch it.

"careful," she murmured, leaning in.

your pulse roared in your ears as her lips brushed your jaw.

"or i might start thinking…"

she kissed the corner of your mouth.

"that you’re the one who wants something."

your grip tightened on her waist.

"maybe i do. it's my birthday after all," you murmured back.

she set the fork aside, pushing away from you to stand upright. she held out her hand, and you took it, letting her pull you up and toward the bedroom. you felt a flush spread across your cheeks, warmth flooding your chest as she guided you to sit on the edge of the bed.

her hands cupped your face again, tilting your head up as she leaned in to kiss you. you could still taste the chocolate on her tongue as it slipped past your lips, dancing over yours in a teasing motion. her fingers slid into your hair, twisting it lightly as she pulled away.

"let's get this off," she whispered.

she tugged at your shirt, helping you out of it before tossing it aside. her fingers traced along your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulders, nails scraping lightly over your ribs. her hands roamed lower, fingertips brushing over your stomach, tracing the firm lines of muscle with a featherlight touch.

"i love your body," she murmured, almost to herself.

her nails dragged lightly across your abs, teasing the defined ridges, before pressing just a little firmer. "so strong," she mused, hands ghosting over your sides, fingertips skating along every dip and curve.

her hands found your hips, thumbs stroking across the sensitive skin as she leaned in again.

she pressed soft kisses down the column of your neck, pausing to nibble at your pulse point. her lips curved into a smile against your skin, and you shivered.

"my big, strong baby."

you could hear the amusement in her voice, and you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat.

"are you making fun of me?" you asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

"not at all," she replied, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

she flashed a playful smile, leaning in for a quick peck before dropping to her knees. you watched as her fingers slid over the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning them deftly. "rina—"

"shh," she said, her tone gentle. "let me."

you swallowed, nodding.

she tugged at the material, easing it off your hips. you lifted them slightly, allowing her to slide the pants down, her eyes fixed on your face. once they were gone, she placed a kiss against the inside of your knee, then the other, her hands resting on your thighs as she continued upwards.

"such a good girl," she breathed.

you shuddered.

karina nipped at your thigh, making you gasp, her teeth sinking deeper. you groaned as her tongue soothed the bite, tracing along the mark before moving higher. she stopped just below your boxers, looking up at you through her lashes.

you sucked in a sharp breath, anticipation building in your stomach. "you want it, baby?"

your head was spinning, every nerve ending firing. you could feel yourself getting harder, and she hadn't even touched you yet.

you bit your lip, nodding eagerly.

"use your words."

"yes," you breathed. "please."

she smiled, pressing one last kiss to your thigh before shifting closer. she ran her hands up the length of your legs, her fingers trailing over the fabric, tracing the outline of your bulge. you whimpered, trying not to buck into her touch.

"so eager."

she tugged your boxers down, freeing your length, her hand wrapping around the base. you couldn't help the groan that spilled past your lips, and her smile widened. she pumped slowly, working you over in long, firm strokes.

"fuck," you muttered, arching into her grip.

she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to swirl around the tip, lapping at the precum leaking from the slit. your eyes rolled back as she took you into her mouth, the warmth and wetness enveloping you completely.

she bobbed up and down, sucking hard while twisting her wrist just right. you reached for her hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands, tugging gently whenever she did something particularly pleasurable.

your hips jerked forward involuntarily when her teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, drawing another moan from her lips.

you watched as she pulled off you with a pop, releasing your cock so she could reach up and cup your face again. her thumbs stroked across your cheekbones tenderly. "i love how you feel inside me," she whispered, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips.

she released you, pushing herself to her feet and stepping away.

"get on the bed, baby."

you crawled backward obediently until your back hit the headboard. she climbed onto the mattress beside you, straddling your lap, her thighs bracketing yours. her hands slid beneath the straps of her dress, slipping them down her arms and shimmying out of the garment.

you stared openly, drinking in the sight of her beautiful body—the smooth expanse of her skin, the curve of her breasts, the slope of her waist, the swell of her ass. she smirked, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra and letting it fall to the side. you leaned forward, taking one nipple into your mouth and sucking lightly as your hands squeezed her hips.

"god, you're perfect," you mumbled between kisses.

she laughed softly. "don't stop," she murmured, pushing gently against your chest. you released her breast, trailing kisses down the valley between them. "that feels amazing," she breathed, leaning back to give you better access. you switched to her other breast, lavishing it with attention.

her hips rocked against yours, grinding against your length, coating you in her arousal. you groaned, thrusting up instinctively. "baby," you whined. "please."

karina hummed, pulling away from you. "you want to fuck me?" she asked teasingly, reaching down to stroke your cock.

you nodded desperately, panting heavily.

she lifted her hips slightly, allowing you to guide your length into her entrance. she sank down slowly, inch by inch, eyes fluttering shut as she stretched around you. your head fell back against the headboard, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. once she'd taken all of you, she paused for a moment, adjusting to the feeling.

karina's eyes opened again, gazing down at you hungrily. "fuck," she moaned, rolling her hips experimentally. she was beginning to believe it was her birthday, not yours. to have you here, like this, moaning beneath her.

her own personal gift.

you gasped, nails biting into her skin. "rina…"

"i know, baby," she whispered soothingly, lifting herself up slightly before sinking back down onto you. your hands moved to grip her waist, guiding her movements as she set a rhythm that had you both gasping for breath.

you arched into her, burying your face in the crook of her neck as her walls fluttered around you. "so good," you mumbled.

"yeah?" she replied, grinning.

"yeah," you replied, lifting your head to meet her gaze. "so fucking good."

her smile was soft and warm. her hands framed your face, brushing your hair off your forehead before she leaned in. you pressed your lips to hers, kissing her slowly and sweetly. karina melted against you, her tongue sliding past your lips to caress yours. her arms slid around your neck, holding you close as you moved together, your hips meeting each thrust.

she broke the kiss with a gasp when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, throwing her head back. your eyes widened at the sight, taking in the way her breasts bounced with every movement, how her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted.

she was beautiful.

you trailed kisses along her collarbone, biting softly before nipping at the hollow of her throat.

"oh," she sighed, rolling her hips harder, grinding against you.

"you like that?" you asked, your voice rough and low.

she nodded, a small whimper escaping her lips. "yes."

you grinned, repeating the action, adding some pressure to her clit. she moaned louder, her fingers tangling in your hair and tugging lightly. "don't stop," she breathed. "keep doing that."

you obliged, pressing a kiss against her pulse point.

"come on, rina," you said, gripping her hips firmly and thrusting up harder. "tell me how much you like it."

she cried out, her back arching as you continued your ministrations.

"i love it," she managed, breathless. "i love the way you feel inside me."

you groaned, sucking a mark into her neck as she spoke. "fuck, rina…"

she pulled away, leaning back until she was practically sitting in your lap, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders. your grip tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. "so big," she moaned, rolling her hips again, sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you.

"karina…"

your eyes fluttered shut, mouth falling open as you chased your high. "mm, i'm close," you warned her.

she hummed, speeding up her movements as she rode you harder. you thrust upwards, meeting her every stroke.

"me too," she panted, squeezing your shoulders tightly. "don't stop."

your breath caught in your throat, chest heaving with every ragged breath. your climax was building rapidly, heat coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment. "fuck," you gasped.

"please," she begged. "i need you."

"i'm right here," you promised, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

"please," she repeated, nails scratching along your scalp. "i want it so badly. please, please, please," she murmured, cupping your cheeks. "i've got you. i'm gonna take care of you, baby."

your jaw clenched, your eyes squeezing shut. "rina, fuck. i'm gonna—"

a string of curses fell from your lips, hips jerking erratically as you spilled into her. your entire body trembled, the force of your orgasm leaving you dizzy. you were vaguely aware of karina's hand tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as her hips continued to move, riding out her own release.

your name fell from her lips, a chorus of desperate whimpers and gasps, until finally she collapsed against you. you held her close, stroking her hair while she recovered.

"i love you," she whispered, lifting her head to meet your gaze. "so much."

"i love you too," you replied, smiling softly. "thank you."

she shook her head. "no, thank you." she leaned in, capturing your lips with hers, kissing you deeply and passionately. "happy birthday, baby."

you beamed. "best birthday ever."

"better than the cake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

you laughed. "well…maybe not."

karina snorted, burying her face in your neck.

[lex1i0]

bts fic recs

✿ - my favorites

✧ty for the resources :))

— Seokjin

ᰔᩚ Mold a Pretty Lie by @blog-name-idk {college!au, unhealthy & toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut}

ᰔᩚ Scale by @shina913 {richboy!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut}

ᰔᩚ Internal Conflicts by @yoongiofmine {non idol!au, fluff, angst, smut, step brother}

✿ Off Limits by @floralseokjin {brothers bsf!au, smut, angst, fluff}

ᰔᩚ Cupids on Holiday by @persphonesorchid {angel!au, fluff, angst, smut, slight enemies to lovers, humor}

ᰔᩚ Paraluman by @muniimyg {love triangle, fwb to lovers, bsf to lovers, smut, angst}

ᰔᩚ Lets Get Married as a Joke by @burningupp {angst, fluff}

— Namjoon

✿ A word from our sponsors by @100vern {podcast, friends to lovers!au, crack, smut, fluff}

ᰔᩚ The Holiday Pretense by @mortallydeepestobservation {fake dating!au, friends to lovers/roommates to lovers, crack, smut, fluff}

ᰔᩚ Perfect Plan by @mortallydeepestobservation {friends to lovers, fwb?, angst, fluff, happy ending}

ᰔᩚ Beauty & The Bookworm by @jungshookz {uni!au, librian!namjoon, fluff, angst, smut}

— Yoongi

ᰔᩚ Sugar Rush Ride by @lo1k-diamonds {fluff, smut}

ᰔᩚ Dillema by @trivia-yandere {drug dealer!yoongi, smut}

ᰔᩚ The Road not Taken by @prodagustd {brothers bsf, one sided pining?, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut}

ᰔᩚ Oh, Darling! by @yoongiofmine {non idol!au, uni!au, fluff, angst, smut}

✿ Between the Titles by @highvern {fluff, smut}

✿Three Tangerines by @kithtaehyung {brothers bsf!au, implied age gap, angst, fluff, smut}

ᰔᩚ Minted by @kithtaehyung {angst, action, smut, haegeum!au, gang!au}

ᰔᩚ Take a bite by @glossdebut {smut, fluff, angst, slowburn}

✿ bbydaddy!yoongi by @muniimyg {smut, fluff, angst}

ᰔᩚ So it goes by @prodagustd {fwb to lovers, fluff, smut, angst}

✿ Terms & Conditions by @ktownshizzle {fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au}

ᰔᩚ The Deal by @untaemedqueen {drug lord!yoongi, fluff, smut, angst}

ᰔᩚ Whispered Vows by @lostbookmark {angst, fluff, smut}

✿ Dating Advice by @taleasnewastime {strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut}

ᰔᩚ Love and Lullabies by @ktownshizzle {fluff, angst, smut, idol!au, acquaintances to lovers, dad!yoongi}

✿ Hook, Line & Stinker by @yoonmetogether (smut, fluff, angst}

— Hoseok

ᰔᩚ Heartbeat by @joonbird {gang!au, fluff, smut}

ᰔᩚ Guarded by @xjoonchildx {mafia!au, e2l, slowburn, eventual smut}

ᰔᩚ Connotations of Sin by @persphonesorchid {fallen angel!au, angst, fluff, smut, horror}

— Jimin

ᰔᩚ Serendipity by @mikrokosmoslove {ceo jimin!au, lovers to enemies to colleagues to lovers, angst, smut, drama}

✿ Silk Sheets by CallMeByYourName97 {sugardaddy!au, smut, fluff, toxic relationship}

ᰔᩚ Growing Pains by @taleasnewastime {unrequited love, brothers bsf, mafia!au, fluff, angst}

ᰔᩚ In the wake of your leave by @taleasnewastime {unrequited love, brothers bsf, slowburn, mafia!au, angst}

— Taehyung

ᰔᩚ A really great (love?) story by @whatifyoulivelikethat {non idol!au, fluff, smut, friends to lovers}

ᰔᩚ Stuck with you by @jungshookz {roommate!taehyung, uni!au, enemies to lovers, fluff, smut}

— Jungkook

ᰔᩚ Strictly Platonic by @jeonqkookskooks {college!au, bsfs to lovers, fake dating!au, fluff, angst, smut}

ᰔᩚ Game on @sparklingchim {footballer!jungjook, fake dating, f2l}

ᰔᩚ I Want You to Stay by @ahundredtimesover {boss!jk x assistant reader, strangers to lovers, slowburn, angst, smut, fluff, drama}

ᰔᩚ Bbydaddy!jk by @muniimyg {exs to lovers, fluff, smut, angst}

✿ Home by @bonny-kookoo {est relationship, foreigner!reader, fluff, smut}

✿ Hotter than Hell by @chateautae {supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut}

ᰔᩚ Paraluman by @muniimyg {love triangle, fwb to lovers, bsf to lovers, smut, angst}

✿ Sauvage by tjunglebook {ceo!jungkook, fluff, smut}

— Ot7

ᰔᩚ Change my mind by @winterzsurprise {soulmates!au, f2l, eventual smut, slowburrn, polyamory}

✿ Little do You Know by @yoongiofmine {fluff, angst, smut, playmate!au, idol!au}

ᰔᩚ Back Home by @alexlwrites {college!au, romance, humor, fluff, angst}

✿ Everything Falls (Into Place) by @blog-name-idk {college!au, roommate!au, fluff, humor, smut}

ᰔᩚ Sh. by @wwilloww {non idol!au, wilderness!au, f2l, smut, fluff, angst}

[yoonia]

nefarious (m) | pjm

Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life.  Accepting his offer might cause inconveniences for both of you, but do you really have it in you to say no? 

⟶ Title | Nefarious; In Motion - a side story ⟶ Pairings | Jimin x female reader (with POV changes) ⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Club host/escort! Jimin, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; scenes of nudity, male strippers, usage of alcohol (minor, no drunk sex), D/s dynamic, contains strong BDSM content!, explicit sexual scene, including: mentions of voyeurism, exhibitionism, mention of masturbation/mutual masturbation, brief depiction of deepthroating, praise/praise kink, pain kink, Dom!Jimin, sub!reader, pet names/endearment, sensory play, bondage/restraint, spanking, pussy slapping, punishments, clamps/nipple clamps, biting, sex toys, body worshipping, breast play, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), clit play, edging, begging, crying, orgasm denial, orgasm control, forced orgasm, hair pulling, rough sex, manhandling, ass play/rimming, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, brief depiction of reader/OC entering a headspace, aftercare. ⟶ Story Note | While this story is connected directly to the original plot of In Motion, this story can be read as a standalone. For those who are reading In Motion, the scenes in this piece may take place in a similar timeline as the main story (after the epilogue). Thank you for @pars-ley and @lo1k-diamonds for helping with beta reading parts of this. Special thanks to @cafekitsune for the mdni divider. ⟶ Author’s Note | I’ve been planning this story for a while, ever since Jimin appeared at the final chapters of In Motion and then again in The Dark Room, but it took a whole year for me to finish this one. I initially wanted to publish this to celebrate my birthday and Jimin’s last October, but a lot of things happened since then and this story ended up being postponed for a long time. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this story, whether or not you have read the entire In Motion instalment. Additional warning: please remember to hydrate while reading!  ⟶ Word count | 39,246 words ⟶ Posted on: Jan 10th, 2025 by @yoonia

⟶ In Motion: the masterlist | Music playlist and visual concept | Read on AO3 ⟶ Main masterlist | Navigation | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi

𝕮𝖑𝖚𝖇 𝕷𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊

Welcome to our establishment. Let us introduce our little treat for you to indulge in—

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Your host and personal contact will notify you personally to confirm your appointment for your private session, according to the prearrangement made on the night of registration or during the session schedule’s booking. You must confirm your availability within one hour of the arranged schedule. If the attendee fails to confirm their availability on time, then the opportunity to join the session will be passed on to the next club member on the waiting list who fits the same preferences.

During the arrangement of your private session, please remember to confirm your preferences or individual requirements needed for your session with your host. The host will use your details to find the perfect partner among exclusive members of the club to pair you with during your session.

Both your identity and your potential partner’s will remain anonymous until the session begins, and you are required to maintain your anonymity throughout the entire session held within the property of Club La Rouge. 

Once you are escorted into the allocated room for your arranged session, you will have free rein to use the room however you deem appropriate for your session. The timer will be set starting from the moment the ambience lights within the room are turned on. Both attendees are allowed to utilise the provided tools and necessities presented inside the room. Any personal items taken from outside of the club will not be allowed inside the Play Room and will be confiscated immediately if discovered by the hosts. 

You may discuss your choice of safe words with your partner once you are in the room or before the session officially begins. Please remember to notify your selection of safe words and passwords to your host once you are set to begin. The hosts will only open the doors once the session officially ends or whenever the safe word is announced by an attendee. 

The hosts will have the authority to stop the session if the safety of either attendee is compromised. An alert button will be available in the room to be utilised by either attendee when they feel unsafe during the session and the safe word is unable to be used. Once the alert button is used, the host will cease the session and take over to secure the attendee in question.

If any violation of the rules above occurs within the session, the attendee in question will be escorted out of the premises and their name will be added to our blacklist.

Any other mutual arrangements that may occur after the arranged session will no longer be our concern.

—You—

Your chest feels constricted. 

Never once have you felt this kind of humiliation before. Let alone experiencing it in a place like this. 

Club La Rouge has been known as a prestigious club that takes good care of its members. Ever since you joined them a year ago, you have been experiencing first-hand just how well the club takes the matters of your needs and pleasure as their priority. Never once had they ever failed to help satiate your desire with their service. 

Until tonight. 

As a club that aspires to bring people’s most sinful wishes and dreams to reality, Club La Rouge has never left you feeling disappointed. This is the reason why you have been coming back here, relying on them to channel your hidden desires. To provide you with a chance and a safe space where you can freely explore them without having to reveal your secrets to the world. 

That was the reason why you had arranged for a special session tonight in your favourite venture—the Play Room. 

You needed an escape. A relief from your strenuous life, and being here, making use of the club’s benefits such as the Play Room as an avenue to express yourself in a fashion that you would never dare to do in real life, has been helping you to live out your fantasy in the best possible way one could imagine. So far, you have been quite lucky to be able to venture and live out your fantasy through the sessions that you have had in the club. 

So the moment your plans turn into a complete mess, you cannot help but wonder if you have finally run out of luck. Because there is no possible way that the first time the club makes a mistake like this, it just has to happen on the night you come for an arrangement which you have been anticipating the most. 

“I am terribly sorry. This is truly our fault.”  

You bite back any response waiting to escape your lips. Frustrated and annoyed would be an understatement. The female host’s apology and simple explanation do little to help when you are standing here with your hopes crumbling to pieces.  

The poor girl working on the concierge desk also looks too pitiful—so obvious that not even her lacy mask can hide it—that you have no idea what to say. Would it be fair for you to be angry at her about this? Would it be right to file a complaint or ask to see their manager?

Is the manager even available tonight? He should be. He is your host and sponsor, after all. 

You look around, hoping to see the familiar figure that has always been there ever since the first day you became a member of the club. The club doesn’t look as busy as usual—which isn’t surprising for a weeknight—and the female host seems to be the only one handling the registration tonight. It makes you doubt that he would be here tonight at all. 

In the end, the only thing you can do is exhale a deep, heavy sigh and close your eyes, forcing yourself to find some calmness rather than making a scene out of nothing. You just need a moment to wrap your mind around the situation that you just found yourself in. 

“Let me get this straight. What you’re saying is—” you keep your voice calm and steady as you try to understand the situation better, “Not only did the person you set me up with for tonight’s session cancel their RSVP at the last minute, the person who was supposed to be next in line and was said to also fit my criteria was also a no-show?” 

There is a bite in your voice that you cannot control. You still refuse to believe that your potential partner—who was personally chosen by the club—had completely bailed on you. Possibly because of hearing the details of your request. 

As much as you want to deny this awful situation from happening, putting the situation into words only makes it more real. Looking at the hostess’s fearful eyes that her delicate mask has failed to hide doesn’t take away the bitterness you feel inside. 

The female host opens her mouth, then shuts down before she says anything, while looking more nervous as the seconds tick by. You almost feel guilty for inciting this kind of reaction from her. Almost. But you are too angry to care, and if you are being honest, you are looking for a scapegoat. If those cowards aren’t here to be on the receiving end of your wrath, then the person who is now standing before you can take it on their behalf. 

“I’m afraid that is quite correct. Well—partially,” she slowly explains, while her voice grows smaller when she sees you raising your eyebrow. “As I previously mentioned, a part of this incident may have been our fault.” 

You shake your head. “Please explain to me so I can understand.” 

The hostess nods before she begins explaining the process that occurred after you phoned your host—her manager—this morning about opening a private session in the Play Room. Once you have given him your specifics, including your special request and requirements for your session tonight, it was your main host’s duty to relay the details, while the club’s system filtered through the club members’ list to find someone who would fit your criteria and would be available for the night. 

“We’ve contacted your first potential partner within the hour your request came in, who immediately RSVP’d his availability for tonight's session. But then he cancelled in the afternoon, claiming that he wasn’t able to join the session as he felt it was—” the hostess looks uncomfortable as she continues, “something that he wasn’t looking to get into for the time being.” 

You let out a scoff. “Ah, so the poor man got cold feet once he learned about the details I requested for the appointment?” 

Speaking it out loud only makes you want to laugh even harder. It’s not like you gave an outlandish request when you made your appointment. Many others have even more peculiar sexual fetishisms to play around with in the Play Room—like those involving fetishes by worshipping certain body parts or using inanimate objects to pleasure themselves with, such as food and other inanimate objects—so hearing such reasons to cancel an appointment seems laughable. 

“I still don’t see how that would be your fault.” 

The only thing that you could think of regarding the situation is that either the club had chosen the wrong club member as your partner, misreading his personal preferences as something that matched your own, or the man had lied about his details in his registration form so that the club had mistakenly thought he would be the perfect match for you. 

“What about the other one? The—replacement?” 

“Well, you see—” The hostess stops to clear her throat before explaining the situation further, “Once we received the cancellation from your original partner, our system immediately proceeded to find the next person in our list that would fit the criteria to be your potential partner in tonight’s session, and then pass on the invitation through his personal host who will then help us confirm his availability.” 

With a deep inhale of breath, the hostess continues, “The problem was, that once the host failed to contact the appointed member through a phone call, they had proceeded to contact him through email. The system was supposed to wait until the member sent in their RSVP or replied back to let us know that he would be available for the night, and only then would the host in charge pass on the information and have the club arrange the session with both of you as partners.” 

“Let me guess, that’s where everything went south?” 

The hostess gives you a remorseful smile. “Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened,” she explains gently. “Our system had mistakenly confirmed his attendance and RSVP’d on his behalf before we ever truly received any direct response from the club member regarding his availability for tonight’s session. The staff who handled the arrangement never thought to double-check with the system or the hosts who were responsible as both yours and the other member’s contacts before contacting you to inform you that we have found a partner for you.” 

You feel like ripping your hair out in frustration or pinching the bridge of your nose to calm yourself, except that you had spent hours fixing your hair that it would be such a waste to mess it with your own hands, while you also have a thick, lacy mask covering your face which you aren’t supposed to take off for the rest of the night. 

Feeling like there is no hope, you let a bitter laugh escape from your lips. “So I suppose I should just go home now?” 

— Jimin —

As your personal host and direct contact who is responsible for being the mediator between you and Club La Rouge, Jimin should have been there at the concierge desk to welcome you for your appointment. It was by chance that he had just stepped away from his counter to have a short break when his phone pinged with a notification, alerting him of your early arrival after your membership card was scanned at the front desk. 

Jimin had been the one to set up the appointment and prepared the Play Room for your session himself, so he should be the one welcoming you and then escorting you to the room himself. But he has his own reasons to step away and find some space before coming to face you. 

After handling your previous sessions over the year you have become a member, Jimin knew to expect something new added to your request when you called in to arrange a session in the Play Room. You have always been curious, after all. Always quite adventurous when it comes to channeling your sexual desires, in finding out new ways to express your sexuality while trying to find what works for you and what the club might be able to provide in your sexual explorations. 

But your request had been an unexpected one that caught him by surprise upon hearing it the first time. Jimin even had to confirm it with you repeatedly on the phone call you made this morning to make sure, nearly causing you to laugh at his reaction. 

Your requirements hadn’t been an extraordinary one. Not by the club’s standard, at least, as Jimin had witnessed and arranged many others that made him appreciate the club’s policy of upholding its member’s secrecy and discretion. Yet, your request was enough to bring out an old itch that is begging for a scratch.

That was why he felt the need to get away, to regain his composure before facing you. Before his thoughts—everything that he deemed forbidden to even think about as one of the club’s representatives to an esteemed member of the club—gets in the way of his duties. 

Not being there when you first arrived is one thing that he feels regretful of the most. Then he regrets it even more when he rushes back, just in time to find out about the predicament that you are met with at the concierge desk. 

Jimin hears enough and curses under his breath, realising what had happened and understanding where things might have gone wrong. He knows exactly who—or what—to blame. 

He, of all people, should have known better than to rely simply on the club’s automated system to handle these things. 

Back then, Jimin and the other hosts had done things manually; from matching the club members with the right partners for each scheduled appointment, arranging the private sessions and the exclusive events, to scouting potential members and finding the perfect benefit that would help them find pleasure so they would keep returning to the club to gain more.  

Over the past few years, however, the club has grown substantially. With more members joining, and new ventures and benefits to offer being added, the hosts have become so overwhelmed with overlapping duties. It then prompted the owners to introduce the new system to assist the hosts in handling the club’s business. 

So far, the automated system has been working well enough without causing trouble for the hosts. It has been making things easy when it comes to matching up club members as partners for closed and private sessions held in the club’s special rooms, and dealing with last-minute cancellations—just like the situation that you are currently in. Although it doesn’t take away the hosts’ responsibilities in making sure that things remain in order. 

That was what he was supposed to do with your appointment tonight; to double check on the booking process and follow up with both the system and the hosts involved to make sure that things will go on smoothly. He is your main host, after all, and it is his responsibility to keep you satisfied with the club’s service in tending to your needs. He shouldn’t have relied solely on the computers and the other hosts to handle your arrangement. 

“So I suppose I should just go home now?”

Your voice echoes through the hallway as Jimin begins approaching you. Hearing the bite in your voice, he feels a tight pinch in his chest, as he feels as if he has failed you. 

Jimin knows that he shouldn’t care this much for a member of the club, and yet he cannot stop himself. 

It would be a complete lie to say that he doesn’t have a soft spot for you. Jimin has no idea if what he feels is some kind of attraction, or simply amusement. Whatever it is, he cannot deny that he enjoys every moment he hosts your presence at the club. He even finds pleasure in fulfilling your various requests each time you call in for an appointment with the club, always guessing what would be the next thing you want to try or learn, and matching you with the right person among other club members to fulfil your needs. 

And that is why the idea of sending you home without giving you exactly what you needed tonight seems preposterous. 

Determined to fix everything for you, Jimin secures his mask and fixes his suit, getting himself in order as he joins you at the concierge desk. 

“Good evening, Miss ____,” he gently greets you with a smile, and he takes great pleasure in seeing your shoulders slumping in relief at the sound of his voice. Your gaze softens even before you turn to look at him, which makes his smile grow wider. 

There is always a tender look in your eyes whenever you see him. Oftentimes mixed with a tinge of amusement or absolute joy. Jimin knows that he shouldn’t read too much into it, but he would be lying if he ever said that he doesn’t enjoy seeing it coming from you. 

“Let me take it from here, Saki. Thank you for covering for me while I was gone. You’ve done well,” Jimin says to the female host who had taken over Jimin’s station in his absence. He feels guilty for placing her in such a predicament when it wasn’t even her responsibility to handle this kind of situation. The barely-concealed sigh of relief that Jimin sees from the poor girl drives that guilt sinking deeper in his chest. 

With a nod, Saki turns to apologise to you one last time before making her way to the back office. Jimin waits until the girl is out of sight before he speaks, 

“I’m sorry I missed you. I had to step out for a moment,” he finds himself explaining before he can stop it. “I just heard what happened to your dates. I apologise for such an unpleasant evening. As your host, I will personally take full responsibility for this mistake.” 

Jimin holds back a wince, even if he truly means it. He really does feel responsible for allowing this to happen, yet you seem to think differently when you immediately shake your head. “No, there is no need to go that far. Bad things like this can happen to anyone,” you kindly say to him, though Jimin isn’t quite sure if you are trying to appease him or convince yourself. 

Because the disappointment you feel is still clear in your voice, also in your eyes, and in the deep sigh coming out of your lips when you murmur under your breath, “Unfortunately, it was just my pure luck that this had to happen to me.” 

Clenching his hands, Jimin holds back from reaching out to you and musters a smile. “Once again, I would like to apologise on behalf of the club and the staff. Why don’t you take a seat in the waiting area for a moment?” he offers you while gesturing towards the small lounge nearby, “I’ll see if I can arrange something so your visit tonight won’t be such a waste.” 

You look sceptical for a moment, which Jimin can understand. Even with the advanced system, it would be impossible for Jimin to scout through the available male members of the club to find anyone who would be able to fill in as your partner tonight, much less to send a sudden invitation for a late-night private session. But, to his relief, you ask no more questions and agree to let him do his work. 

Jimin guides you himself to the small waiting lounge; a private space near his station which is often used for guests who are waiting for their turn to use the special rooms. Once you are settled, Jimin rushes back to his desk with your membership card in hand, hoping that he can somehow find a way to salvage the night for you. 

It’s for the sake of the club’s reputation, he tries to remind himself, as he keeps forcing him to remember that he needs to solve this for the club’s interest, not a personal favour. 

It doesn’t take more than five minutes for Jimin to find everything he needs. First, by confirming Saki’s statement about the other staff’s mistakes and how the automated matchmaking system had screwed everyone over. Second, to confirm his suspicions about not being able to fix it the way he wanted. 

But that doesn’t stop him from trying to make things right. 

He spends another five minutes on his computer to find the right solution before joining you in the waiting area. “As my assistant, Saki, explained, the club member that the system had listed as your substitute partner for the night never RSVP’d back to our invitation to join tonight’s private session that you requested. The member’s personal contact should have done her due diligence in making sure that he was available to attend before contacting the staff handling your reservation, and I should have followed up with the process before updating you,” he gently explains, “The fault is entirely ours. On behalf of the club, and for my own mistakes, I would like to apologise.” 

Once again, a look of defeat is written on your face, and Jimin’s heart plummets with more guilt. To his surprise, you still manage to put a smile on your face when you respond, “It’s fine. I guess things aren’t meant to be.” 

If Jimin felt doubtful about his insistence in helping you, that feeling fades the moment he catches the resigned sigh escaping your lips. 

Hearing this, and feeling the tightness in his chest, he realises that not only is he constantly drawn to you whenever you are near—when you are in the same room, same space, or simply present somewhere in the club’s property while he is working in the hour—he also has been feeling quite protective of you. 

Just like how he is adamant about helping you tonight, he has always been more attentive to your needs. Oftentimes, he would find himself getting reckless, involving himself in your deals and arrangements with the club in channelling your raw desire. 

Jimin has long realised how unhealthy this was becoming. When knowing the kinds of sexual exploits that you have been seeking through the club so far has only caused him to be on the edge each time you return for new arrangements, always making him wary about the risks you would be taking as you enter one of these sex rooms with these other guests that the club had chosen for you. 

Complete strangers hiding behind intricately designed masks and anonymity as they share a private moment with you behind these closed doors. 

Jimin hates to admit it, but aside from the sinking feeling of guilt, he also feels somewhat relieved that your private session was unsuccessful tonight. 

If only your appointed partner had shown up, Jimin would have been the one sending you off to your room by now, and then left wondering if your partner would be doing a good job in fulfilling your needs, instead of sitting here with you, enjoying this little chat while admiring your smile—albeit not as radiant and alluring as it usually does. 

“Still, it doesn’t mean that your night needs to end now,” he says, which draws another sceptical look from you. 

Still, he manages to also draw a small, warmer smile showing on your face when you question him, “Oh, really? How so?” 

Jimin returns your smile as he leans closer, holding your membership card between his fingers. “Because I’ve made sure that you’ll have a way to enjoy the rest of the evening instead of returning home.” 

His smile grows wider when your curiosity grows, and it shows perfectly from the way your eyes grow wide from under your mask. Before you can question him further, Jimin continues to explain, “To make up for our error, I’ve upgraded your membership status and programmed a few special offers on your card, which you are eligible to claim tonight if you wish to enjoy them.”

“An upgrade?” you ask, “and what kind of special offers are you talking about?”

Jimin throws you a smug smile. “I prefer to call it a peace offering, since it would be quite a disadvantage if tonight’s misfortune changes the way you perceive the club.” 

When your smile returns, so does the light in your eyes. “I’m listening.” 

“Instead of simply cancelling your appointment for tonight’s session, I switched the specifics of your appointment to have it listed as an open session which you can claim anytime you want. There will be no extra charge if you decide to have it as an extra from your monthly quota of free sessions,” Jimin explains, “The upgrade has also given you new privileges that only our exclusive members are eligible to claim.”  

You make a humming sound as if you are considering your options. But Jimin can tell that he is slowly getting you swayed. “You might want to remind me of these, um—” You come to a brief pause, then start shaking your head as if trying to not get ahead of yourself or too excited over this sudden development, “Remind me again about these privileges that I am now entitled with.” 

Jimin bites back a smile as he watches you crossing your arms over your chest, challenging him while trying your best to rein in your enthusiasm. 

“I am sure that you’ve read through the club’s rulebook that we sent you after you first joined us and learned about the club’s benefits—from our special rooms, events, and other services that the club offers,” Jimin says, to which you nod. “Your current—or should we say, your previous membership status, only allows a limited quota for accessing our sex rooms each month. With this new upgrade, not only will you be given the same privileges as our exclusive members, such as access to more sex rooms, and chances to book more appointments each month, but you will also receive invitations to our special events.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and this time, Jimin is the one who has to force himself to hide his excitement. As your host, Jimin has suspected that you may have been regretting your choice to join as a regular member of the club instead of upgrading it. 

With your current membership status, you have only been able to book two sessions and only one type of sex room to access each month, without being able to switch between rooms to be able to fully experience them—just like how you have only been able to book the Play Room for the past few months, and before that, the Viewing Room. As for the club’s special events, unless there was a special event being held in the club that is open for public guests, you wouldn't be receiving any invitation to join the festivities. 

Now, all of that’s going to change. The upgrade that Jimin has gifted you will allow you to experience all the benefits that the club offers its members—from getting the opportunity to try out more rooms, book more sessions, and join more parties.

There is no doubt in Jimin’s mind that you would have been able to appreciate these benefits to your heart’s content, and for some reason, the thought of being able to give you such luxury pleases him dearly. 

“I will be sending you the new rulebook that will explain the details about these privileges more thoroughly once the upgrade is officially applied to your membership account. In arranging future sessions, the basic procedure remains the same. I am still your personal contact with the club, so you can call or email me anytime you are interested in booking a room or a session, or if you want to venture out to the club’s other services which you want to try. Just give me all the details, your request for a partner to match you with, and the time you wish to come, and I’ll arrange everything.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it by saying, “The next time you call for an appointment, I will personally handle everything myself to make sure that things are in order.” 

Your gaze softens, and so does your smile. But there is something in your eyes that warms Jimin in the chest. The look of trust. It makes him happy knowing that he has earned it, especially coming from you. 

“Exclusive privileges, hmmm?” you ask him with a playful scoff, though there is a glint in your eyes that seems more honest. 

Excitement. With the familiar tinge of lust. 

Jimin can only guess what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours at the promise of trying more new things under the club’s space. “Sounds tempting. I look forward to learning more about them.” 

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Jimin continues, “For the rest of the evening, you are free to use the Entertainment Room to wind down. As a special treat, I added an extra drink over the two drinks a night limit.” Jimin leans closer. “Just for you,” he adds with a wink, and takes pleasure in the way your eyes are lowered when a shy smile appears on your face. 

“In exchange for your cancelled appointment, I’ve given you free access to join any of the Viewing Rooms tonight, since I know that you still favour those rooms. But you can also switch to any other sex room to your liking if you are interested in trying your new privileges right away,” he says, grinning as he sees you sitting up straight. “Just let me know which new benefit you would like to engage with before you end the night, and I’ll have everything set for you. As long as they are available for an impromptu visit.” 

Jimin holds back the chuckle rising in his chest as he sees you twitching in your seat. He wishes so badly to see what is going through your head right now. He can imagine you venturing through the rooms tonight out of curiosity, and he surprises himself when he feels a semblance of possessiveness when he thinks about you enjoying your night on your own, while knowing what your new privileges can offer. 

Swallowing his emotions, Jimin continues, focusing on the present instead of wondering about the things that have yet to happen.  

“Why don’t you take your time? Have some drinks while you process this and decide how you’re going to enjoy the rest of your night. I’m sure the exotic dancers performing in the Entertainment Room tonight will be quite helpful in getting your mind away from all the stress,” he offers you when he notices you thinking deeply about your options. It was clear to Jimin that you had felt dejected enough to even consider going home, forget everything, even perhaps to leave the club altogether out of this one bad experience. And that is the last thing that Jimin wants right now. 

At the mention of exotic dancers, your eyes light up, coaxing Jimin to lean in and tease you, “Although, I must say, that I am fairly sure those dancers might not be as entertaining as I would have been.”  

To his pleasure, his comment manages to draw not only a genuine smile from you, but also makes you laugh for the first time tonight. 

Your laugh is full of surprise and it does something crazy to Jimin. A flush of warmth runs down his body. This rarely happens, which only surprises him more. Never once has he ever been affected by someone this much. To have it coming from a client, a guest of the club that he is responsible for as a host, is even more unexpected. 

Yet he welcomes the feeling. Especially when he gets to see your smile even more. 

“I’m sure you’re right about that,” you softly tease him with a soft chuckle slipping out of your lips. 

“Now that I’ve explained how much this card is now worth with the upgrade, it will be best that you hold on to it,” Jimin says as he returns your membership card. His eyes remain on your dainty fingers as you retrieve the card from his hand. The greedy part of him wishes that he could stay in this moment a bit longer, or to find some reason to touch your skin. 

Yet he brushes away his thoughts before they can go any further. 

“Thank you. I was so sure that this night would be such a waste. This past week has been—a lot. And today at work had been the worst, which was the reason why I called you the first chance I got to arrange a session so I could destress.” You exhale a heavy sigh, the sound bringing back the tightness in his chest. Yet he can tell that the heaviness of your distress is no longer present, much to Jimin’s relief. 

Your eyes fall on the card in your hand and a sound of disbelief comes out of your lips. “I can’t believe you went above and beyond just to make up for all of this.” 

Jimin’s chest seems to expand with pride at your words. “It’s my duty as your host to make sure that you are satisfied with the club’s services.” You lift your gaze to meet his when he gently adds, “I meant it when I said it was my responsibility to make up for your failed night. But most of all, I’m also doing this personally for my own pleasure. Anything to please you.”  

— You —

 

Words fail you as your fingers brush against Jimin’s the moment you reach out to retrieve the membership card back from him. 

You have always found it so odd the way your heart would always flutter each time you were close to him. You have always felt at ease whenever he was around—just like that eventful evening just last year when you came to the club and met him for the first time, his smooth talking giving you the artful reassurance that you needed to be confident enough to apply for membership even before you finished your first drink.

Tonight, specifically, Jimin has managed to calm you down without having to do much. Just his voice alone was already enough to give your mind some semblance of solace after having to deal with the drama regarding your unsuccessful appointment. And then he goes to such lengths to make up for the mishap that didn’t seem to be entirely his fault. 

It shouldn’t make you feel things, being treated with this much care. It shouldn’t bring up the flutters threatening to grow stronger in your chest. 

How pathetic does it make you to feel something like this just because someone is being nice to you? Have you been so deprived of such kindness and affection that this simple gesture—one that a host of the club does to appease you—makes you feel spoiled and, perhaps, appreciated?  

After the day you had, however, where you felt as if the entire world was closing in on you, it shouldn’t be a surprise for you to feel this way. If only you hadn’t felt so tired and frustrated, you might even have tears in your eyes. They would be tears of gratitude and relief. Which no doubt would only make Jimin worry even more. 

“I think I might need that drink, after all,” you murmur with a chuckle, mostly to yourself than to Jimin.  

To his credit, Jimin says nothing about how desolated your voice comes out. He simply takes your hand and helps you rise from your seat, once again triggering that flutter in your chest with his warm touch. 

“I’ll have Saki escort you to the Entertainment Room. I hope spending some time there might help you feel a bit better, even if you decide to call it a night after a few drinks. But I’ll be here to guide you if you ever decide to venture out and indulge in your new benefits as a new exclusive member,” he says with a grin that is infectious that you cannot help but smile along with him. 

Your moment together ends too soon as you arrive back at the concierge desk, where his assistant, Saki, is waiting. You shouldn’t feel so dejected for having your time with him cut short, but it’s hard to ignore it. Being with Jimin feels so calming. His eyes are warm, even when they are partly hidden under his golden lace mask, and his smile—which often seems cunning—makes you feel safe when you are with him. 

Shaking your head, you remind yourself that the only reason why Jimin is so kind to you is because of his duty. This is his job. As a host, it would be his responsibility to keep his guests—his customers—happy, and that includes you. 

“Thank you, Jimin.” 

He nods. “I hope you’ll have a better evening.” 

“Your drink.” 

A glass of red liquid—Manhattan, dry—manifests right in front of your eyes, drawing your attention away from the lewd scenes that are being displayed in the room. The glass lands with a soft thud on your table. Glancing up, you see the staff who brought it over to you; a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing nothing but a tight vest which shows his perfectly toned muscles, his skin bare, with no shirt beneath. His mask is made up of semi-transparent black lace which mostly covers his eyes and the bridge of his nose, though not enough to cover the glint in his gaze as he lingers by you for a moment longer than necessary. 

“Can I provide you with anything else?” 

From his smile, you can tell that behind the alluring mask, he must be an attractive man—just like all the other staff, escorts, and hosts working in the club. 

From his gestures and the way he speaks, it’s clear that he is openly flirting with you. It is quite flattering, if only you don’t consider the fact that this is a part of his job as a waiter and escort; to tend to the guests and wait on their table, oftentimes keeping them company when they need one while they are in the room. 

He doesn’t have to say out loud that he is subtly offering you that said company. You can see it in his pretty smile, yet it doesn’t seem to pull at your heart enough to invite him to join you. Not even for a single drink. 

So you put a smile on your face to return his inviting grin and politely wave him off. “Thank you. This is all I need for now,” you coyly say, before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to play along a little just to have fun, “but you can ask me again when I order my second drink.” 

The masked staff winks at you before he leaves, promising to return when you are ready for your second order. 

Biting your smile, you watch as the masked escort walks away, weaving through the lines of loveseats with his tray in hand as he makes his way back to the bar. Left alone, you take a slow sip from your drink, allowing it to help cool you down and wash away any bitterness that still lingers with the unexpected turn of your planned evening. 

Closing your eyes briefly, you savour the buzz from your drink as it rushes through your body. The soft and sultry tune of the music playing in the room helps set the mood. Not only to help all guests relax and enjoy the moment, but also to draw out any wanton desire that is still lying dormant right before the guests begin to venture deeper into the club to enjoy the special treats provided in the other rooms.

Your eyes trail towards the nearest glass box where a male dancer is swaying with the beat. Aside from the pair of high leather boots he is wearing on his feet and the black leather mask covering half of his face, the dancer simply has tight black briefs covering his crotch. Pressed sinfully into his skin, the fabric looks like a smooth leather. It leaves little to almost nothing to everyone’s imagination as the fabric barely covers much of his skin.

And it hangs low on his hips.  

Extremely low. 

Low enough that you can see the triangular line leading down towards his evident bulge. 

As the dancer moves, the chiselled muscles on his chest and limbs seem to ripple with every movement he makes. Each line of muscles keeps getting highlighted under the spotlight illuminating his private box stage as he rolls his body to the music, his skin glistening with sweat and what appears to be a thin layer of oil.

Hungry eyes are locked on him. You can tell that many of his audience are hoping that he would end his show by tearing those tight briefs off as manicured fingernails keep reaching up to try and have a touch. 

A wanton fantasy that may never happen. 

Not in this club, and not in the room which is open to the public and set simply as a place of transit for the guests. 

Club La Rouge has always had its strict rules, binding all the staff and guests alike to make sure that things remain in order while keeping everyone safe and satisfied under its roof. 

Specifically for the Entertainment Room, there are a few rules that everyone must follow; no complete nudity, not between the escorts and the guests who are present, not even for the exotic dancers on the stage; the well-known two drinks limit for the guests, placed to make sure that everyone who is involved in the sex rooms remain sober; no physical contact; and no fraternising, as escorts and dancers are off-limits for the guests to invite into the rooms, although they are allowed to keep the guests’ company while they are in this room, simply to talk and and flirt and drink with them until their time is up; and many other rules which have been placed to maintain both the anonymity and safety of everyone involved in the club’s business, while keeping its reputation intact. 

There is a reason why these guests around you—the attendees, as the club would call them��hide their faces behind carefully designed masks. A lot of these guests are important and well-known people out in the real world; businessmen, politicians, celebrities. Anyone who wanted to find an escape, a place to channel their darkest desires, to seek pure pleasure without the risk of people judging or outing them in public. 

They all pay good money to have a good time, to find pleasure, something that the club has to offer. In return, the club simply asks everyone to follow their rules to keep everything in order. 

Yet, even with the rules and limitations in place, this room still serves its purpose of entertaining its guests. The scantily clad escorts and passing servers are the perfect eye candy for the guests, and they are both friendly and flirty, providing some level of comfort for the guests so they can relax and enjoy their time. 

And then there are the performers, the exotic dancers filling the stage and the small boxes that have been set between the seats. All of them dancing and swaying to the music seductively, their movements so mesmerising that most guests find it hard to look away. 

Just like how your eyes continue to find their way to the same dancer that you have been admiring, his actions draw your attention back to him no matter how hard you try to look away. 

The male dancer brings his arms up, crossing them behind his head as he begins gyrating his hips forward. His eyes are locked down, aimed towards the female guest sitting right in front of the box; an older woman who is dressed elegantly, yet daring, with her wrap dress coloured in dark purple, a similar colour to her mask, the cleavage sinking deeply at the front to show a generous view of her ample bosoms. Her auburn hair is styled up in a messy bun, with a pair of golden hair clips pinned on the side of her head to keep the strands in place. 

You cannot see her face from this angle, yet you can see her painted nails trailing up and down the flute glass of champagne that she has been nursing since she sat there, showing you that she is indeed enjoying the show while having her mind wandering to another place where she could be free with her own raw desire, possibly with said male dancer as the other character in her fantasy. 

The dancer comes down to one knee and continues rocking his hips. The female guest leans back in her seat, making it seem as if she is receiving a personal lap dance from the dancer, and you wonder if this is a part of her fantasy that he is giving her. 

A fantasy. That is all that these entertainers are offering for the guests sitting in the Entertainment Room. Anything that may entice any guests’ sexual desire without actually engaging with them directly. 

But there are still other ways for the guests to indulge in that fantasy, and for these escorts and performers to indulge in sexual pleasure without breaking the rules. You look around, biting your lips when you consider that sometime tonight, one of these escorts and dancers will be performing something else for the guests. 

In the Viewing Room, a different kind of entertainment is presented for the guests, drawing those who are into specific types of kink, including some of the most perverse kinds of sexual pleasure; exhibitionism, voyeurism, and similar others. 

Within those rooms, a similar setting to what you have now can be found, except on a smaller scale. Sets of loveseats and high-back chairs set in lines around small, solo stages or in front of a massive glass wall separating the room from another, except that instead of stripper poles and stage lights, you will find a whole different setup to support the performances; from small beds and three-seated leather sofas to the distinct setup, like bondage benches and St. Andrews cross standing at the center stage. Everything that is needed for the masked escorts, both males and females, to engage in their sexual exploitation in front of a public audience. 

Oftentimes, club members would be the ones to take the center stage. Either with their own partners or in groups, or even acting solo, allowing other members to watch as they indulge in carnal pleasure. 

Feeling warm from your own thoughts about the indecent scenes that you have seen in the Viewing Room before, you lift your gaze back to the nearest stage, where a new male dancer has taken the center spot. 

Wearing a thin, see-through white shirt and a pair of tight, holed-up jeans, he basically leaves only little left to your imagination. His mask, a perfect replication of a pair of wings of a dove, is made out of white lace fabric with silver threads as its linings. The mask glimmers as the dancer begins rocking his hips, allowing you to see the toned lines of his muscles rippling under his shirt before he begins to slowly peel the thin piece away to show you more. 

As you continue watching the dancer perform with his captivating moves, your mind wanders to another figure whose movements are also just as graceful, but with less rough edges on him. The figure who holds an aura which exudes sin and temptation as he moves and speaks, with that smile of his which keeps drawing you in. 

Finding yourself comparing the dancer with your mysterious host and escort draws out a scoff from your lips. 

How would you know whether or not Jimin has any rough edges on him at all, when he has always presented himself in a prim and orderly fashion; with his sparkling mask hiding half of his face and his firm body under his fashionable suits? 

Thinking about Jimin takes you back to the brief moment you had with him at the guest lounge earlier, and you feel the urge to knock back your drink when your disappointment returns tenfold. You have no idea why you are so invested in this club and feeling so deeply about your session tonight. Having your hopes up only to be let down makes you feel bad, but it shouldn’t be this bad.

Is it because you had wanted—no, needed—an escape from your life so badly, hoping that a night of pleasure, a chance to shed your skin for a short while, would have helped you deal with the problems waiting for you at home? Have you needed to forget about the real world that badly to seek a chance to live inside your fantasy? 

Yes, you wonder with a sigh, as the weight of your real life outside of this club—work, the thriving, yet struggling business that you are currently running, your home life, the absence of a real relationship, the business deal that had fallen through just this morning—lays heavy on your shoulder. 

Yes, I do need that escape. 

Ever since the moment you stepped foot in the club for the first time, your entire world has been undeniably and irrevocably elevated to a new height. You’ve found pleasure like you’ve never felt before from the very first experience they gave you, the perfect escape from real life, and never once have you turned your back on them. Never once had they ever given you the reason to. 

Must tonight’s misfortune become the sign that your time with the club is up? 

Feeling the dreadful feeling from today’s stress coming back, added to the possibility that you might be losing your safe place tonight, you take another drink and lift your gaze, meeting the dancer’s eyes as he looks across the floor to see you. 

Sitting back and forcing yourself to relax, you convince yourself to simply enjoy this moment. To enjoy the performance that is being given to you while trying your best not to think of your troubles, and at the same time, stop yourself from imagining your lovely host—whose smile and alluring voice have always filled your thoughts—as the one dancing in front of you. 

— Jimin —

Jimin has no idea what he is doing or why he is here. 

It feels like only moments ago that he watched you go to the Entertainment Room—the Lounge, as everyone at the club would usually call it—and then he is suddenly here, standing in the dark corner, watching you. 

He cannot understand why he felt the urge to come here. The need to see you again was pulling at him that he was drawn here to find you. 

Like a moth to a flame. 

Shaking his head, Jimin lets out a bitter chuckle. This is ridiculous. If this had been the weekend, when the club is usually the busiest, he wouldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have time to, nor the chance to be distracted by the thought of you, wondering if you are feeling better, or if you are going to meet anyone in the Entertainment Room who might invite you to join them for more.

The Viewing Room is open for guests tonight. The Play Room that you have booked for the night is still vacant, as he couldn’t alter the reservation and pass it on to another guest unless they are seeking the same specific theme. Which only makes him grow more concerned after sending you off with a free ticket to use either of these rooms tonight. 

Jimin may have informed you of the main rules within the club, yet he isn’t sure if you are aware of the special rule that applies only to the exclusive members and VIP guests of the club that most aren’t well-informed yet unless they have the same privileges. 

The same privileges that you now have, once Jimin has officially updated your status in the club. 

The rule which states that while the guests are forbidden to engage intimately with or to invite the escorts to their private sessions in the sex rooms, they are, however, allowed to invite another guest for an impromptu session set in the rooms, so long as the arrangement made between them is mutual and the hosts are made aware of it beforehand. 

It might have been the thought of you receiving open invitations from these other guests which had drawn Jimin away from his station. He knew it was a possibility. If someone like him could be completely smitten and drawn to you, there is no doubt that others would feel the same once they notice you. 

Alone. 

Unattended. 

Available. 

Jimin’s attention is drawn back to you when he sees you raising your hand, and ordering your second drink. Within moments, one of the male escorts tending the room appears with your drink in his tray. He leans close over the table as he places your drink, and then lingers for a moment too long. His demeanour and the way he leans a bit too close, too friendly, combined with the way you smile back at him as you lean forward to meet him, lets Jimin know that this male escort has been the one taking care of you and keeping you company since you got here. 

Jimin’s hands are clenched to fists at his sides. It remains that way while you are chatting with the escort, whose presence is making you oblivious to your surroundings and all the attention that you are getting from the other guests. Only when the male escort finally walks away, returning to his station, Jimin can finally breathe a sigh of relief. 

Instead of approaching you, Jimin remains in the shadows. Still out of sight. It allows him to look at you, a chance to get a full view of what he rarely gets to see whenever he’s in your presence. 

Sitting under the dim golden light falling from above, your mask glimmers when you move. The masquerade mask, gifted by the club when you first joined as a member and then amplified further with your personal touch, looks like petals of roses covering a part of your face. Made of lace fabric in the colour of red cherry, the mask matches perfectly well with the colour of your drink. Even the colour of your lipstick and dress both match the tone, something that Jimin had marvelled at the moment he saw you for the first time earlier tonight. 

The gold and black embroideries framing your mask make your eyes pop, and it shouldn’t please Jimin how well they match the colour of the mask that he is wearing tonight. 

As he watches you raise your glass to your lips, Jimin finds himself moving. As if a spell has been put on him, and his body is moving on its own, drawn towards the magic that has bewitched him completely. 

You have yet to notice him approaching, as your eyes drift towards the nearest box stage, where a new male dancer had just taken the spot to begin his dance. 

Once again, Jimin clenches his fists as he looks on, wishing that the glimmer in your eyes was directed to him instead. Yet he quickly calms himself just as he comes to your table, keeping his voice and expression steady, as well as the mask helping him hide his emotion, as he gently says, “Enjoying your evening so far?” 

Jimin’s voice takes your attention away from the male dancer who is now becoming the main focus of the entire room.

Startled, you sit up straight and turn to look at him. The haze in your eyes clears for a moment, only for your gaze to soften at the sight of him. While Jimin still cannot understand what he was feeling before, he takes pleasure in seeing how your gaze always changes just for him. 

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not enjoying myself,” you answer him with a coy smile. It appears as if you are already feeling the buzz, both from your drink and the ambience in the room, clearly seeming more relaxed compared to before. “I have free drinks, a wonderful view of gorgeous men dancing to the music, and friendly escorts coming to keep me company.”  

Your words draw a smile to Jimin’s face, which grows even wider when you add, “And now I have my handsome host coming to say hi.” 

Chuckling softly, Jimin nods and says, “Hi.” 

You softly laugh and take a drink. It draws Jimin to move closer. “Mind if I join you, then?” 

You lower your eyelids. A gesture so subtle and sweet, yet enough to draw a strong reaction out of him. The perfect submission. You shake your head and shift on your seat, making space for him. 

“Do you think I’ll mind having some time with you, Jimin?” you ask him with your eyes fluttering as you tap your palm on the loveseat, gesturing to him to sit right beside you instead of taking the other chair across the table. “Come sit here and keep me company.” 

Tilting his head, a myriad of emotions washes over him. He knows that he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t be here at all, least of all to join you, when every part of him keeps reacting to everything that you do. But his body has its own mind, and your gaze is pulling him closer before he can stop himself. 

Tugging at the lapels on his suit jacket, Jimin settles right next to you. Breathing in, he enjoys the sweet scent of your perfume and the warmth of your presence while you take another sip of your drink. 

“Aren’t you busy? Is it all right for you to join me here instead of watching over the concierge desk? Won’t they be needing you there?” You begin giving him a barrage of questions before returning your drink to the table. Jimin merely listens with a smile, as you curiously ask, “Or did you perhaps come here to check on me? To make sure that I’m having a good time?” 

Why am I here? Jimin wonders, once again questioning his own intentions. 

His concern over you had been making it hard for him to focus on working. No matter how much he tries to rationalise it, listing all the possible reasons why he is in this room with you, Jimin still has no answers. Other than to see you. 

However, he loses any chance to answer your question or to explain himself when a bare-chested server wearing a bowtie around his neck, a silver mask covering half of his face, and a pair of extremely tight leather pants, comes in to take his drink order. 

Jimin considers ordering something strong. A glass of whiskey, perhaps, if only for the sake of giving him liquid courage to speak his mind openly to you. But he quickly decides against it and orders a glass of iced water instead. 

“I’m guessing there’s a rule against drinking on the job?” you tease him, once the server walks away, your gaze lingers for a second longer on his toned bottom than Jimin would like before you turn to him again. 

“Something like that,” Jimin says with a tight smile. “I’m still on the hour, and I’d prefer to enjoy this chat with a sound mind.”

“I like the sound of that. Then I guess I’ll be drinking for both of us,” you say as you take a hefty drink of your liquor, nearly finishing it off. “You don’t do this often, do you?” you ask him while looking around, before noticing Jimin’s raised eyebrows and explaining what you meant, “I’m talking about you sitting with a client or a guest while strippers and half-naked servers are entertaining them.” 

Chuckling softly, Jimin shakes his head. “Actually, as one of the main hosts and the club’s recruiters, I do this quite often. Usually, I’d sit in the Entertainment Room or the open stage areas where the strippers perform, scouting over new guests who aren’t yet members to see if I can find those who interest me enough to offer them a special membership offer for them to join the club.” 

Your eyes grow wide, surprised and intrigued at the same time upon hearing this. Jimin can’t blame you for feeling this way. Even if he has been your host and personal contact to the club since you first applied, this hadn’t been your experience which had led you to meet him. 

Unlike the other members who came in through Jimin’s expert scouting and special invitation passed on through their sponsors, you had first come to the club at your own conviction. 

He still remembers that day as if it was yesterday. 

You had come during the rare occasion in which the club opened the Entertainment Room for public audience, welcoming guests who were non-members by applying an entrance fee for those who came without sponsors. It was you who came to approach him first, knowing who he was to the club and what his role was as he blended with the guests. 

Through the conversation he shared with you, he had learned that you came that night after finding out about the club from the words spread through the grapevine. You came out of curiosity at first, while also having the intention to apply to be a regular club member so you could try out the club’s various endeavours. You claimed that you wished to learn more about your sexual taste and preferences, while relying on the club’s pledge of keeping the members’ privacy and safety while they are under its wings. 

Jimin vaguely recalls how your work would often get in the way of you in having a relationship and from seeing people, to going on dates and finding your own partner to try new things. Hence, the club became such an enticing option which you couldn’t refuse. 

“No wonder no one seems to be questioning why you’re here,” you simply comment, just as a server passes by your table with a subtle nod towards Jimin.  

Jimin takes a drink to cool off, realising that this is something that he needs as he notices you sliding closer to him. 

“I guess you do take your job seriously,” you tease, sounding more relaxed after the drink you are having starts settling in. He looks over to see you watching him closely, your chin resting on your hand as you peruse him with your gaze. “Since you’re here, I’ve been thinking…” 

Placing his glass down, Jimin sits back in the seat, willing himself to relax with you. “What do you have in mind?” he asks, crossing his legs as he listens. Jimin bites down his smile when you give him a sheepish smile. But he would have never expected to hear what you are going to say to him next. 

“I feel like it will be a waste if I just leave here after finishing my drink.” You let out a sigh. “So maybe I’ll take your offer and try out one of the sex rooms tonight. What do you think?” 

You turn to Jimin with a small smile. “Is the Viewing Room with the open stage available tonight? It’s okay to go solo to watch, isn’t it? Maybe I can have fun there and enjoy myself.” 

Jimin swallows down the groan threatening to come out of him at the thought of you entering the sex rooms, much less the Viewing Room. Watching a live porn performance has been one of the fetishes and quirks that the club has to offer. One that he knows well enough to be your favourite before the Play Room. 

By choosing the one with the open stage, you will be sitting right in front of the stage, with either the attendees or escorts performing their carnal act within arm’s length and no barrier getting in the way. Except that going in solo would mean an open invitation to anyone who is enjoying the room to watch without a partner. 

“I mean, I would have loved to try the Dark Room, but after failing to find a partner meant for my original schedule, I can’t see myself getting a random partner on such short notice for—” 

Gritting his teeth, Jimin holds back from showing his displeasure as you continue rambling about your desire to try out the other sex rooms. With other people. He knows that it would be wrong of him to object to your intentions when he was the one who first made the offer for you to find a different way to enjoy the rest of your night. 

Yet he certainly isn’t prepared to hear himself sharing what has truly been going through his mind out loud. 

— You —

Thinking about what you might find in the Viewing Room tonight already makes you grow hot and excited. 

Out of all the sex rooms that you can find in Club La Rouge, the Viewing Room was the start of it all. The start of your journey with the sex club. 

Applying for a membership at La Rouge last year had immediately earned you a free entrance to The Viewing Room and a free extra drink in The Entertainment Room on the same night. Out of curiosity, you accepted the offer right away to feel the experience firsthand. 

Resting back in your loveseat, you remember resting on an exact replica of this seat inside the sex room, getting comfortable as you enjoyed the show. Just the way they have it here, there was a single stage positioned perfectly at the center of the room, merely an arm’s length away from where you were sitting. 

When you first entered, the stage was already occupied. You watched in awe as a masked woman sitting on the center of the stage spread her legs open, while a masked man knelt down before her, with his face buried between her legs and his mouth devouring her bare cunt. As the woman rocked her hips in the height of pleasure, you found yourself moving yours, brushing your covered center against the cushioned seat beneath you to find your own release. 

You remember meeting the woman’s gaze when her eyes shot open in her release, and then again when the man raised to his feet, twisting his partner onto her knees with ease before he began taking her from behind, pounding into her shamelessly while masked strangers continued to watch them giving in and indulging their carnal desire on stage. 

It felt exhilarating. 

Freeing. 

And it felt like the perfect escape from your mundane life, allowing you to recognise a part of you which had been lying dormant inside and awaiting release. The part of you which has always had a strong passion and desire for pleasure, and a deep curiosity to venture deeper into your fantasies and bring them into reality.  

That had been the night when you truly found the club to be the perfect place for you. A place where you could seek out pure pleasure, to learn and understand more about your needs and desires freely without any judgement from the people around you. 

And you have been coming back to this place ever since. Always back to try out new things, new ventures, new sex rooms, and Jimin knows this fact so well as he talks about your intention of visiting the Viewing Room before making your way home. 

“The Viewing Room you mentioned is available tonight. I’m quite certain that there are already a couple of guests making use of the stage right now, and anyone interested in watching them can enter anytime. But—” 

Jimin pauses. Seconds drag on. It would be expected for you to feel uneasy about why he seems so unsure to talk more about this. But it’s hard to feel it when his gaze seems to spark brighter when he looks at you. 

With a smile on his face, Jimin leans in to say with a low, gentle voice, “What if I tell you that I have something better in mind?” 

His cryptic words make you curious. “I’m listening.” 

His smile remains as his gaze holds steady, “I would like to make you an offer.”

The moment you get to see Jimin up close, your previous thoughts are proven right. He does look way more attractive in your eyes compared to the dancer who tried his best to keep your attention on him. Even with a full suit on, Jimin looks more appealing. His face, while hidden under his beautifully crafted mask, appears delicate and beautiful beneath. Not even the mask and the dim lighting filling the room can hide his features, or dim the sparks you feel from looking into his eyes. 

And then there is the way he carries himself, which has always been able to make you feel flustered whenever you are near each other. The way he glides and sways as if he is dancing to a tune that only he can listen to, and how you would take in every single movement he makes—from the tilt of his head, the small twitch at the corner of his lips before his smile grows, to the delicate way he moves his fingers. 

You have never truly realised how much he affects you. 

Until now. 

When the confidence that he oozes from within makes you feel like you want to surrender your desire in his hands, knowing that he might be the only one in the world who may understand what you need. 

“Another offer?” you ask, smiling at the sweet man before you, while hiding the fact that you are feeling an odd flutter in your chest with the way he is leaning closer to you. He might only want to make sure that you can hear him over the sultry music playing in the room, while keeping his words—his offer—from everyone else around you to hear. Something for your ears only.

“After giving me an additional monthly private session, extra free drinks and a free show.” You raise your glass and wave your hand at the main stage, where a few male dancers are now performing for all the club members who are present, their bare chests glimmering under the golden glow lights. “As well as many other privileges a girl like me could ever deserve. Yet you still have more to give?” 

Your smile grows when your gazes meet again. “I never realised the club takes good care of their members this well.”

Jimin gives you a sweet smile. “As I said before, I feel responsible for tonight’s misfortune. I feel like I am partly to blame for matching you with the wrong partners for your private session tonight. If only I had done my job better, perhaps you would—”

Shaking your head at him, you lean forward and repeat the same words you gave him earlier. “Jimin, I told you already, it’s not your fault. These things can happen. It just wasn’t meant to be.” 

Jimin presses his lips when he nods. His eyes are on you when he speaks again, “Yet, things like this shouldn’t happen. It would be bad for our business if we keep messing things up for our favourite clients.” His frown softens. His lips turn to a small grin when he notices you looking back at him with a shy smile, obviously catching on with the meaning of his words. 

“Rest assured, I’ve dealt with the problems as much as I could. For now. You will not be paired up again with your original partner in the future, and we will be looking into his personal details to see if we can have him update his data so things like this—having an appointed pairing bail due to conflicting interests, as he called it—won’t be happening again.” 

The grin disappears and switches into a look of contempt as he speaks about this, and then he carries on to say, “We have also scheduled to have our system looked over, to make sure that no one, especially you, will experience similar misfortunes.”

You sit back and look at him with wide eyes. “Wow, you work fast,” you mutter softly, amusedly, surprised that Jimin and his team would move that quickly to fix all the problems straight away. Their automated pairing system included. 

“As I should. It’s for the club’s best interest, after all,” he claims. “Of course, the first chosen club member has received a warning for his sudden retreat, and we are currently appraising the details and preferences he added in his application form to see if there was some information that he had put in inaccurately.” 

The sass and bitterness in his voice nearly make you laugh. Seems like Jimin also believes that said club member might have made up things that he wrote down in his application form. 

“And the other? You’re not going to reprimand the poor fella?” 

Jimin scoffs. “No, he already emailed us back, right before I came in. He’s out of town, and the business email address he gave us had an automated reply feature set on. That might have been the main cause of the issue.” 

“Bummer,” you say this while rolling your eyes, causing Jimin to chuckle. “Is that what you came here to talk about?”

Shaking his head, Jimin smiles softly at you and leans closer. “No, it’s not. I could’ve informed you all of this another time if that’s all I wanted to talk about.” 

He takes a quick glance around him, seeing if anyone would hear him before he continues. “My offer has to do with your original session,” he says, pausing briefly to let you process his words before he explains further, “Since the Play Room has been booked for your appointment tonight, it will remain vacant for the rest of the night. We have no other guests scheduled for a session, while the room itself has been set up to accommodate your—request.” 

He gives you a small grin while your cheeks grow warm. You are taken back to Jimin’s first reaction when he heard your request, when he sounded so surprised and amused at the same time that you regretted not contacting him through a video call instead to see the reaction on his face. “The staff have worked so hard preparing the room for your appointment. It would be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

“I…suppose it would,” you respond slowly, while silently questioning where he is going with this.

“Then, I would like to offer you the chance to use the Play Room tonight,” he says, surprising you that you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Okay…But how? I don’t suppose that your system can magically find me the right partner to invite tonight. Unless you already know someone that might come in moment’s notice,” you comment with a soft chuckle, yet the way Jimin grins at you in return makes you stop. 

“If an eligible partner is what you are asking for, then there is one who is available.” 

Your jaw nearly drops. “Do you mean to say that you have found someone?” 

Jimin says nothing for a brief moment, allowing room for anticipation to start growing in your chest. And then, he surprises you again when he finally answers.  

“It’s me,” he confidently replies. While your heartbeat picks up after hearing this, a look of mirth appears in his eyes. 

You say nothing, wondering if you are hearing things. Perhaps you heard him wrong, and you are imagining things. But then Jimin speaks again, more convincingly this time, “I will be your partner so you can use the Play Room tonight.” 

Seeing that you are lost for words, Jimin holds back a chuckle and reaches out. His gentle hand rests right beside your thigh, barely touching, yet you can still feel a brush of warmth on your skin from the gesture. Your body reacts with a shudder, yet you make no move to pull away when Jimin leans in, getting into your personal space so that you can breathe in his cologne, and feel his breath on your exposed shoulder when he questions you with a low voice, “I can promise you that if you wish so dearly for your fantasy to be fulfilled tonight, then I can make sure you will not be left unsatisfied. What do you say?”

“Is that—” You are still struggling to get over your shock that you can’t find any words to say. His offer was so unexpected that you have no idea how to react. “Is that even allowed?” you finally ask, “And why would you even make such an offer?” 

Jimin’s gaze softens. “A part of it is me trying to make up for my mistake, another part is for my personal gain,” he admits, once again surprising you with his confession. “You are quite a special member of the club. As a host, it would taint my reputation if words spread that I’ve failed to provide one of my attendees with her needs tonight.” 

His gaze is locked on yours when he continues, “As a man, who has unadulterated interest in you, it would have been a great sin should I send you home tonight unsatisfied, when I know for sure that I fit quite well to the criteria you were asking for as a partner.” 

Eyes wide, you simply listen and allow his words to sink in. If only he didn’t seem so genuine about it, perhaps you would have laughed in his face. You find it hard to believe that he has any semblance of interest in you at all, or in the type of fantasy you wished to bring into reality. Enough for him to make such an offer. 

“As for whether or not I, as a staff member, am allowed to offer myself to be your partner,” he continues while you fall silent, “the rules only state that I am not allowed to be involved with a guest when I am in the hour of my shift. I don’t think the club and the executives would mind if I end my shift early tonight and re-enter as a regular patron of the club.” 

This time, you cannot stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. But you can see the honesty in his eyes, and you quickly sober up. 

“Your offer is quite tempting,” you find yourself admitting once your laughter dies down.

“Of course, it is,” he says, smiling, while looking awfully pleased and sure of himself. “You came into our club tonight in search of pleasure. We have one Play Room still open and reserved, already prepared specifically for you. It’s a win-win situation if we take this opportunity. Don’t you think so?” 

In a way, you have to admit that he is right. 

Your special request would have required some extra preparation from the club to arrange. You wonder what kind of waste that would be if the club isn’t going to find someone else to make use of it. And the more you think about it, the more tempted you are to follow him through   

“If I accept this offer,” you carefully say to him, “how will it affect my, um—” 

As if Jimin knows what you are about to ask him, he nods and explains, “Remember one of the rules from the Play Room that I shared with you when you first came in?” 

You nod your head, still remembering the rules clearly. 

“What happens in the Play Room, stays there. Once the session ends, you will remain as our esteemed guest and club member, while I remain as your host,” Jimin reassures you, “Of course, if you ever find it uncomfortable to have me deal with your future—endeavours, you are free to switch hosts and your personal contacts for your future sessions anytime you want.” 

While his explanation does sound reassuring, his last comment only displeases you. Furrowing your brows, you cannot possibly imagine having to contact anyone else other than Jimin. To allow a stranger from the club to organise your private sessions, to take notes of your preferences and progress—something that you find too personal to share with anyone—instead of having someone that you have become familiar with for the past year assisting you. 

Jimin tilts his head. He can probably see that you may need a moment to mull it over. There is no need for you to let him know that you might have already made up your mind about taking his offer. 

“You have one more drink on your card. Take your time to think about it while you have your drink. You should also know that this is an offer that I don’t give away so easily to any other members of the club,” he says, as the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. A shudder runs through you, and you begin to imagine what his touch would do to you if it were more intimate. 

Jimin leans back, brushing against the front of his suit as he takes away his warmth. “I will be waiting for your decision. Just come straight to the room that has been reserved for your session tonight. You should find the information by taking a quick visit to Saki at the concierge desk.” 

“What if I decide not to come?” 

Jimin stops. With a flicker of a smile on his face, he reaches out to you, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a move which enthrals you and has your heartbeat picking up rapidly in your chest. 

“I think,” he whispers, “You will be there when I enter the room. You’ll be waiting for me on your knees, your hands folded on your lap, and your head down in submission. You will be waiting for me to tell you what I want, and ready to take my commands, just like the good girl I know you are.” 

You bite your lips and lower your eyes. “Is that how you want me tonight, Sir?” 

There is heat in his eyes when Jimin notices your subtle submission. “You should know better than to question your master once the instruction is clear.” 

— Jimin —

Jimin’s movements are stiff and his legs feel heavy as he makes his way out of the Entertainment Room. It takes a lot of effort to remain calm as he walks away from you. He almost can’t even make it to leave at all. 

But he knows that he has to. 

He feels hard as concrete down below. His pants have grown tight as he walks, and he can only hope that the dim lighting around him provides enough cover to hide it as he walks past a few guests and escorts on his way back to his office. 

Your reaction to his offer was sweet. But it was your reaction to his instructions that did things to him. It makes him want to forget everything—the rules, regulations, his duties and ethics—and go straight to the Play Room with you. To hell with the power of anticipation, when he could have gone straight into playtime if he wanted to. 

But he knows that he cannot do that. 

Not here. Not now, when he is still on duty. 

To make sure that there will be nothing getting in the way of him in spending the evening and having a session with you, he needs to do things right. First, he needs to get back to his office and deal with his remaining duties and responsibilities. Then he is going to clock out, ending his shift so he can enter the room with you as another guest instead of a host. 

A complete submission. 

That was your special request. A new kind of sexual exploit that you have claimed, time and time before, to be something that you have been interested in trying, but never had the chance or the courage to get into. Not once, because you have yet to find the right time and place to delve into it without being haunted by the fear of judgment, and without worrying about your safety. 

As Jimin closes the door to his office behind him and carefully begins stripping himself out of his suit jacket, he recalls the conversation he had with you earlier today, back when you called to make the arrangement. 

Those three words had done him over that he almost reacted with a groan in the middle of the phone call. It brought back a piece of his past; his first connection to the club, and the deepest, darkest desire that he has long kept a secret from the world, but never from the club. 

Jimin walks across the room to stand in front of the mirror that he has placed against the wall. Carefully, he untangles the ribbons keeping his mask attached to his face. With a new determination set in his mind, he strips himself of the mask that identifies him as the host of the club, and readies himself to put on a different mask. An old persona of his that not many have ever gotten the chance to see. 

Tonight, he is just another guest. 

Tonight, he is about to become the master that you need. 

— You — 

You cannot really remember how you managed to get here. 

The preparation room looks just as common as the others you used before when you booked a sex room.

Not too spacious, just comfortable enough for the guest to strip out of their clothes and change into whatever outfit or setup they need for the session. 

A small shower box and a vanity table are placed on one side of the room, provided specifically in case an attendee feels the need to clean up before or after a session. 

A wooden closet covers the other side of the room, filled with robes and costumes that you can choose from. There are also baskets and boxes here which you can use to place your personal belongings—the ones which you didn’t leave behind at the reception desk—to keep safe during a session. 

The locked door behind you should bring you back towards the hallway where Saki had left you. The soft echoes of her heels can still be heard as she makes her way back to the concierge desk after escorting you here. 

And right on the other side of the door before you is the Play Room—specifically, the room which Jimin had reserved for you tonight. 

Your body is buzzing from the inside as you stand facing it. Every part of your sense has come alive, excitement is brewing, yet you still make no move to get ready. 

Butterflies flutter in your belly while all your nerve endings are crackling. The thought of Jimin being the other person you will see once you step through that door feels like a fantasy that you never once imagined, yet merely seconds away from becoming reality. 

It’s this kind of moment when you wish that you could depend on liquid courage. The club’s drink limit wasn’t even the reason why your mind is now clear, as you never took the extra drink that Jimin offered. The moment Jimin walked out of sight, leaving you behind in the Entertainment Room to ponder over his invitation, your mind was already made up. Not even the male dancer rocking his hips towards you from behind the glass barrier did anything to sway you from your needs.

Not when Jimin’s words had already set your nerves alight, and your carnal needs burning wildly inside.  

You barely even finished your second drink when you left your seat, drawn by the promise you heard in Jimin’s voice. A promise that he would be the one to give you what you need tonight. 

Not simply as a host who is in charge of your safety and comfort. Not out of his sense of duty. 

But as a man with raw, carnal desire which you could feel from his direct words, his confidence, and his smooth, silky voice as he spoke about helping you find pleasure. 

With a deep inhale of breath, you begin peeling your clothes off. Jimin never specified how you should situate yourself aside from the hint he left you with. But you have decided that it would be best to be as prepared as you can be. 

After putting aside your shoes, pieces of jewellery, and your fancy dress into one of the baskets, you walk towards the full body mirror on the vanity table. 

The pair of eyes looking back at you look almost unrecognisable. Yet the brewing anticipation and desire are clear, even from beneath the mask. Deciding that you are going to go all in tonight, you carefully take off your mask, putting it aside with a smile on your face before stepping into the shower box. 

From what you have learned about Doms, something that you read about when you first became intrigued with the concept of submission and control, you found that some may require their subs to freshen up before entering a play. For you, personally, standing briefly under the running water has helped calm your nerves before entering an intense type of play. 

Recalling the way Jimin leaned in to breathe the scent of your perfume, you forgo using the liquid soap that you find on the shelves and simply let the water wash off the sweat on your skin and the spicy fragrance from the Entertainment Room still clinging on you.  

Once you feel refreshed and clean, you reach for the silk robe to cover yourself. It’s a thin piece that hangs perfectly on the curves of your body. Its length falls right at the top of your thighs, barely concealing your intimate parts when you sit down on the settee in front of the vanity table. 

You take your time to look at your reflection in the mirror before stepping into the next room.  

Your face is now clean from the makeup you wore for the night. Your hair is loose, the pins and hair clip are now safely secured with your other belongings, and it makes you feel more relaxed seeing the wet strands framing your clear face. 

A smile lifts itself on your face as you take a good look at yourself while imagining how Jimin would react seeing you like this—with every part of you bare of anything which may hide your truth. For him to see every part of you that no one else has ever gotten the chance to. 

If he’s going to be there as just another man, then I’ll be there as a regular woman. 

Not his usual patron or special guest. Just me. 

The door to the Play Room closes behind you with a resounding click. Almost as if sealing your fate. 

There is no turning back. 

By now, Jimin would’ve gotten notified of your arrival in the room. He might already be on his way to join you. 

It would be too late to have a change of mind now, wouldn’t it? 

You find yourself wondering about this as your gaze drifts towards the other door across the room. You can picture him entering through that door, elegantly striding into the room as if he owns the place. The same way you saw him the first time you met, when he entered the guest venue with his head held high and one of his hands tucked in his pocket as he greeted the guests attending the club’s special event. Also, the same way he did earlier when he walked off the Entertainment Room after sharing his proposition with you.  

Will he be wearing his mask still, just like your previous partners? Will he still be wearing his fancy suit—this evening, he was wearing a matching suit in deep bronze with a satin shirt in cream underneath, a complete contrast to his dark mask—or will he choose to change into something more comfortable? 

Something more—appropriate for the play, perhaps? Or maybe just something comfortable for him to play his role with? 

Thinking of all the possibilities of seeing Jimin in a different light makes the flutter inside you grow more intense. It feels overwhelming. So you try to distract yourself by taking in your surroundings instead, marvelling at what the club has done while you have the chance to soak it all in. 

This Play Room seems slightly different compared to the ones you used previously. Quite more spacious, it gives you a sense that you are inside a honeymoon suite in a resort instead of a simple sex room inside of a club. The lights here are a bit dimmer, with various more arrangements added to fill the room.

A four-poster king-sized bed is placed against the center wall to your right. Its frame is made of dark wood, with four vertical columns standing on each of its corners, made as tall as pillars reaching to the ceiling. Wooden rails are placed on its head, looking just as sturdy as the columns and sizeable enough for you to wrap your fingers around each grid. Various pillows and cushions are scattered on the mattress, all covered in dark rouge-coloured silk sheets—the shade that you see in almost every part of the club.  

The bed looks imposing as you stand right before the massive columns. Yet heat rises through your body as you picture yourself being stretched out on top of the delicate fabric, your limbs bound to those pillars and your skin bare for your partner’s eyes to see. 

Another set of doors stand on the wall across the bed. A symbol is placed at the top, similar to the one you saw one the doors to the preparation rooms similar to the one that you had just walked out of—a symbol that looks like an outline of a bathtub to give you a hint of what is on the other side. 

Your heartbeat flutters softly in your chest knowing what it means—a small bath meant to use after a playtime, or perhaps another part of the set-up meant for the Dom and sub to use during a play? 

Turning back to the room, you see two other furnitures that are set on either side of the bed which look just as imposing. 

Black-painted St. Andrews cross stands on a small platform on the left side of the bed, set up for intense bondage play. A bondage bench covered in dark red leather with leg stirrups is placed on the right side, with various instruments meant for different types of punishments hanging on the adjacent wall. Floggers, belts, whips, paddles, riding crops, and even feathers in various sizes and colours draw your attention, and your skin feels tight as you picture them being used on you. 

Looking away from those instruments, your gaze lands on a single leather high-back chair that is placed across the bed. Looking at its position, you can imagine your partner sitting there, watching as you are laid to perform any carnal act on the bed. 

This simple setup is something that you are more familiar with, learned from your previous experiences in the Play Room.

Your first experience with the Play Room was when you requested a session where you could give a blowjob to a nameless partner who was willing to be tied up and blindfolded. On the next session, you became the recipient of an invitation sent from another guest. An anonymous club member who wanted to give you pleasure through oral sex, only this time, with you being the one who was blindfolded, all while you were stretched out and bent on a long loveseat similar to the high-back chair you see in this room.

Ever since then, you have continued to use the Play Room to venture into other kinks. To understand more about yourself and follow your need to figure out what you might enjoy more in the future with a trusted partner. 

You tried to see if you could enjoy pain kink by arranging to have a partner spanking you until your skin grew tender. The first time you entered this type of session, you had your partner use his palms, who had then used those same palms to soothe away the pain and tenderness until you were left trembling under his touches. In the next session, you had a different partner use a flogger, an experience which you found painful yet thrilling that you felt like you were being sent off to a different height at the end. 

Both occasions had allowed you to learn one thing; that you can endure pain and enjoy them, and you had been left drenched between your legs with arousal after each one, that a single flick of a finger on your clit and a light blow on your slick folds were enough to send you spiralling into your climax, one that was so intense that you can still feel it each time you think about those nights. 

Another time, you tried to see if food play would be your thing. 

The idea of the play was quite erotic; as you spent it by having both you and your partner coated in chocolate syrup before licking each other clean. But the aftermath hadn’t been as pleasing. 

It was messy, sticky, and you still giggle each time you remember the dopey smile you gave each other when you found out how ticklish you actually were. It didn’t necessarily ruin the experience. But it did simmer the heat. Thankfully, your partner that night simply bid you goodbye with a chaste kiss on your cheek and a teasing wink instead of abhorrence. 

Sensory play was the next thing you tried in the Play Room. It was your partner’s turn to take the lead, by pouring hot wax on your breasts before using ice cubes to cool down the sizzling heat. He then finished the play by sucking your sensitive nipples until both of you came into climax from the thrill and heightened sensations. It was yet again something you found to be a pleasant experience. A new find in the growing list of kinks that you certainly do enjoy. 

Pressing your legs together, you try to tame down the pulsing heat growing at your center. You can feel that you are getting wet from thinking about your past experiences. Foreplays to prepare yourself for tonight’s session, as you see it. 

You have no idea what truly enticed you to request such an intense play for your session tonight. You only have a vague idea so far of what you are getting into, which only adds to the anticipation brewing inside. 

Feeling tension growing in your belly, you turn away from the bed to look at the console table standing in the center of the room. At one glance, the table only looks like another piece of adornment to complete the room setup. But upon closer inspection, you quickly notice the entire set-up of what you may need during your play. 

Assortments of smaller instruments and sex toys are laid perfectly in order on top of the table, all chosen according to your personal preferences as written in your registration form. From plugs, clamps, and vibrators in different types, sizes, and colours. To a variety of ropes and fabrics that you can only imagine how they are going to be made use of during the play. 

There is an addition of a set of hemp rope beside the silk ropes that you have listed as something which you thought might be more comfortable to be used on you, and you wonder if Jimin had added it as his own preference to try with you after volunteering to be your partner tonight. 

Reaching out, you brush the tips of your fingers over the items on the table, trying to decide if you should pick something out of them yourself before Jimin arrives. Even if only so you could have something to hold on to as you wait. 

But then Jimin’s last instruction echoes through your mind, reminding you of the command he gave before he left— 

“You’ll be waiting for me on your knees, your hands folded on your lap, and your head down in submission.” 

Thump. Thump. Your heart begins beating rapidly in your chest. Warmth surges through your body, pulling at your skin, as his gentle voice comes to you like a soft, demanding caress, 

“You will be waiting for me to tell you what I want…”

The intense flutter in your chest returns, and you pull your hand away from the table. 

Smoothing down the front of your robe, you carefully climb onto the bed. You settle down near the foot of the bed, knees folded beneath you to cushion your weight. You rest your palms on your thighs, loosening your fingers instead of clenching them, and lower your head in submission. 

And then you wait.  

Seconds tick by into minutes. 

Silence has thickened as you continue kneeling on the bed, waiting for Jimin to arrive. 

Your heartbeat has grown steady. The unrest and anxiousness you felt have dwindled in your wait. Your legs are beginning to grow numb. Yet there is something about the power of anticipation which has the rest of your body come alive.

While your mind is empty, you are still focused. Your senses are on high alert. Your skin has become sensitive to the touch, to every shift in the air, to every brush of soft breeze flowing from the air conditioner. 

The gentle click from the other door sounds like it’s coming from far away. It doesn’t take long for your mind to register what it means, as it is the sound that you have been waiting for ever since you claimed your position.  

Jimin is here. 

You remain in your position, keeping your eyes lowered as the gentle sound of footfalls fills the room. You can feel him approaching, stopping to stand right before you without making any other sound. For a moment, you can hear nothing else but the sound of your steady heartbeat and his subtle breathing, until—

“You follow my instructions really well.” His voice comes as a murmur, with a praise that comes out of his lips like a humming tune. It brings back the butterflies fluttering in your belly, growing wild and expanding, before exploding into sparks when he adds, 

“Good girl.” 

Your hands are clenched, and unclenched, in perfect rhythm as the blood flooding warmly in your veins. Receiving his praise surprisingly feels—good. 

His words feel almost as succulent as the most expensive wine you have ever tasted. You immediately file this new discovery as something that you find as something pleasing. 

Jimin places a knuckle under your chin and lifts your face to look at him. “Hello there, angel.” 

Every single thought in your head is quieted the moment you get to look at Jimin. Evidently, he has taken his time to clean up. His suit is gone, replaced by a silk robe which is almost a matching pair to yours. Even his mask is no longer present, leaving not a single trace of lace to cover his beautiful face. 

You feel like you are dreaming. You have tried to picture him before, more than once. But your imagination doesn’t seem fair enough when you finally get a good look at him. 

You don’t realise how obvious you are in admiring Jimin’s presence until a slow smile grows on his face. He seems amused at your reaction, even if it’s quite clear that you are not the only one to do it. Jimin’s perusing gaze lingers on your face as he brushes his thumb across your cheek. 

“This is the first time you are showing me your face ever since the first night you came to the club,” Jimin muses with his gentle voice. So soft that you almost miss it thanks to the sound of your thundering heart. 

“This is the first time I get to see your face—ever,” you respond with a smile, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

“I suppose this will be a fair treat for both of us,” Jimin says with a low voice as he lets go of your chin and draws himself back. “Open my robe.” 

Your fingers are slightly shaking as you reach out to him. Dainty fingers pull on the sash binding his robe together until the thin fabric comes apart, revealing his bare chest, his firm torso, and the soft V-line leading down towards his semi hard-on. You cannot resist licking your lips, wishing that you could trace his skin, to run your fingers down the lines on his body and the artful black lines written on the side of his chest. 

A tattoo. How amusing, you wonder, while silently questioning if there is more ink work on other parts of his body that you are going to find. 

You take another second to marvel at this new, unexpected part of him, before your gaze drifts up to his face, waiting for his next instruction. You start to reach up to peel the robe from his shoulders, yet he gently catches your wrist before you can even try. “That’s enough for now, angel.” 

“Ah. Yes, Sir.” 

Jimin tilts his head as he holds your hands in his, gently pulling you up while saying, “Rise, angel. Let me have a good look at you.” 

You can barely feel your legs as you rise, but you barely feel any worries of falling when Jimin keeps a firm hold of your hand with one hand, and your waist on the other. He keeps you balanced when your feet are on the floor and you find yourself swaying. 

“Easy, now,” he teases as helps you steady yourself on your feet. “Good. Now don’t move.” Once he is convinced that you can stand on your own, Jimin steps back. Though he keeps his eyes on you, watching you closely when he says, “I want you out of that robe.” 

With a deep intake of breath, you reach down and pull to untie the sash around your robe. The silky cover comes apart, revealing your bare skin underneath. You can hear the soft intake of breath coming from Jimin, making your skin flush at the thought of him being affected by the sight of your bareness.  

Something else shines through Jimin’s eyes when he looks at you, smouldering with an unnamed intent. Something illicit and dark, sending shivers through your spine. But it also feels delicate and warm, not the kind of sensation that would send you shrinking into the bed and hiding from him. 

Jimin takes a step closer. Then another step. Then he runs his fingers on the front lining of your robe, rising up to your shoulders. “You are beautiful, angel. Exquisite,” he whispers smoothly with his fingers moving your hair back. 

He gently peels your robe off of your shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor, pooling around your bare feet. The tips of his fingers brush against your skin as he does this, prompting a shudder surging through your body. 

“Those fools have no idea what they were missing when they failed to show up tonight,” he murmurs, referring to the club members that were initially chosen for you to have as your master tonight. 

But you have barely thought of them at all. Not since the moment Jimin offered to take the role that has been left vacant in their absence.  

You are lost in your thoughts for a brief moment that you don’t realise how closer he has gotten. Not until you feel the warmth of his words against your lips. His eyes look deeply into yours as he trails his fingers down the length of your bare arms. 

It feels thrilling, the way he is touching you, and the way your body is reacting to the featherlight touches of his fingers. It feels intoxicating, more than what you’ve gained from the drinks you had earlier. Your mind is clouded, and his heated gaze keeps you entranced, making it hard for you to look away, yet your mind is still clear enough to take in everything that is happening at the moment.  

Your gaze falls to his lips. With him leaning so close, all you have to do is tilt your head and your lips would touch each other. But neither of you make a move. 

His eyes move down just then, lingering on your lips. Just when you think he is about to kiss you, Jimin retreats and carefully guides you back to the edge of the bed. “Back on the bed for now, angel. Resume your position for me.” 

Disappointment weighs down your chest, yet you quickly brush it off and keep your voice steady. “Yes, Sir.” 

The loss of this touch makes your skin feel cold, so you hold on to the heat coming out of his eyes as you move back to the bed. Moving under his unwavering gaze makes you feel more hyper-aware of your state of nudity. He isn’t even touching you the way you want him to yet, but you can already feel warmth surging through your skin simply from the intense way his eyes are following every move you make. 

Sitting back on the bed, a gasp slips out of your lips. You are surprised to find how wet you have already gotten underneath, all coming simply from his unwavering attention. The slickness of your arousal isn’t yet intense, but present, sticking on your skin as you settle back with your legs folded beneath you, hands on your lap, your gaze lowered in submission as you wait for his next move. 

Jimin acknowledges your obedience with a nod, and then turns away to make his way across the room, straight to the console table. You watch from under your eyelashes as Jimin moves, his robe flittering on his back. You quickly notice how his slow, yet confident strides hold something different in them more than what you have seen from him before. 

An air of dominance and control. Imposing, but not enough to instil fear, and still as elegant as how you have always seen him. 

Jimin might not be as brunt as the Dominants you’ve learned about from your research through the internet or what was written in the books you’ve read. He isn’t hard and tough. Instead, he is—gentle, while still commanding in his own way. He has a kind of tenderness that serves like a magic spell, one which makes you want to obediently obey and follow. He lights up the desire you have in you to submit to his every will, to please him, without having to say too much. 

The way he feels so comfortable in his own skin also amazes you. Looking at his back, you almost forget that he is bare underneath. The way he embraces himself puts you in awe, that you cannot help but continue admiring him. 

As Jimin reaches the console table, he holds out his hand and begins running his fingers on the assortment of instruments and toys being displayed, and you inadvertently straighten your back. Jimin seems to be taking his time perusing the playthings on the table, causing your nerves to spark as you anticipate what’s coming next.

“You requested to experience a complete submission. Is that right, angel?” he gently asks, and for a moment, your brain nearly fails to register his question before you finally find your voice again,  

“Yes, Sir. I did.” 

Jimin looks over his shoulder. “Now that you’ve seen everything we’ve prepared for your playtime tonight, you haven’t changed your mind, have you?” 

You lick your lips. “No, Sir.”

“Good,” he says with a hum. “Before we start—” Jimin angles his body to look at you, and the light from the ceiling falls on his covered back, allowing you to see through his sheer robe to see some more ink work lining down his spine. 

“Pick a safeword, angel.” 

You drag your eyes away from his back, looking at his face as you consider your choice of safeword, before deciding to go with what your mind is more familiar with. “Red,” you answer him with a soft voice. “Red means to stop.”  

His lips twitch with a knowing smile. “Favourite colour?” 

You shake your head. “Not really. It’s just easier to remember when I suddenly need to use it.” 

Humming to himself, Jimin nods. “Good thinking,” he compliments you, his eyes glinting under the lights as he looks at you to say, “I personally love your choice.” 

Jimin turns his attention back to the table, and as the robe on his body moves along with him, you finally get to see the vague lines of his back tattoo through the sheer fabric. 

Moon phases. How fitting. 

Your gaze is pulled back onto Jimin’s hands as he moves to trace his fingers across the items on the table. As he reaches for the silk and hemp ropes, your skin grows tight with excitement. 

Bondage is something that you are still unfamiliar with. But you had clearly stated in your request today that it would be something that you would be interested to learn and do through the session should your partner—your master—be willing. 

As your host, you know damn well that Jimin would have taken account of this part of your request. And he seems to be making it clear to you that he is more than willing to introduce you to this form of play tonight. 

With a gentle hand, Jimin picks up the silk rope. He plays with the fabric in his fingers for a moment, feeling its texture. He then moves on to the next items, perusing them as closely as he did with the binding materials provided for him. Your core grows warm as he touches one of the small toys and starts filtering through the plugs. Then he moves on again, allowing you a brief relief, only until he brushes his fingers against the collection of clamps in various shapes and sizes that you saw previously. 

“How much can you endure pain?” he asks you while he carefully browses through each item while sneaking glances at you from over his shoulder. 

You lick your lips. Tingles run through your body as you try to imagine all the things he could possibly do to you, as you picture the previous experiences you’ve had when it comes to finding pleasure through inflicted pain. 

“I tolerate them quite fairly.” 

“Have you tried these?” As Jimin turns and lifts his hand for you to see, a golden chain hangs from his fingers. A clinking sound draws your eyes to the ends of the chain, where a set of clamps is seen hanging from it, glimmering in the shade of gold. The thin piece of gold looks like a regular piece of jewellery in his hand. And yet it’s hard for you to marvel at its beauty when you that it serves a completely different purpose when used. 

“Not yet, Sir.” 

Nodding, Jimin puts the clamps back in their place without asking further questions. Then he reaches out to the lines of thin fabric which you identify as blindfolds and mouth covers. 

“Blindfold?” he offers with a raised brow. 

“No,” your answer comes out easily before you even have the chance to mull it over. “Not tonight. I want to be able to look at you.” 

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle as he finally turns away from the table. His mind is already made up with what kind of play he wants to have with you. His determined eyes look straight at you as he steps closer with a silky fabric in his hands—which looks more like a ribbon instead of the rope he was playing with—yet the smile you see on his face softens all the tension in your body. 

“How are you doing, angel? You’re still okay?”

“Yes, sir.” You lick your lips. “Quite nervous,” you admit. Desperate for a distraction, you look down on his hands as he slides the thin strip of silk through his fingers. He plays around with the soft material while keeping his eyes on you, taking in your honest reaction. 

“Give me your hands. I want to try something before we continue.” 

Jimin’s deliberate tone stills your heartbeat. You slowly raise your palms, inches from his waist. The silk strip is soon wound around your wrists, his deft fingers carefully securing the knot just as you begin to tremble. Once he is done, Jimin brings your bound wrists to his chest and slips a finger between your wrist and the fabric to make sure the bond isn’t too tight.  

Keeping your bound wrists to his chest, he draws your attention to his face as his lips are pulled into a slow smile. “Tonight, I’m just another guest,” Jimin says to you once he gains your attention, “I am only here to please you, to guide you as your master. Tonight, you are mine to take care of and give pleasure to, but you are to listen to what I say so we can both find pleasure at the end of this session. Is that clear?” 

You respond to him with a nod, yet he immediately makes a disapproving noise with his tongue. “From now on, you will respond to me with your words every time I speak to you. Is that clear, angel?” 

A whisper of a breath leaves your lips before you finally answer, “Yes, Sir.” 

His smile returns. “Now repeat to me. What is your safeword again?” 

“Red.” 

“Very good. Do you willingly put yourself in my hands tonight?” he asks, while he gently strokes the side of your body with his free hand, lightly digging his fingers into your bare back while his thumb grazes the side of your breast. 

“Y-yes, Sir,” you answer with a gasp as he presses down on your skin. 

“If you want to slow down, or if you’re not feeling sure about continuing and need a moment to take a breath, you can also use ‘yellow’ to let me know, and I’ll hold back for you. Use ‘red’ only if you want to stop.” Releasing your secured wrists, Jimin tilts your chin up to get you to look at him. “But you must remember that red or stop means everything ends, and I will put our play to a complete stop, and there’s where we end the night. Do you understand?” 

You give him a quick nod. “Yes, Sir.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

With your gaze locked on his, you answer him firmly with, “I do.” 

Pleased with your answer, he gently pulls you up from your current position. “Sit on the end of the bed for me, angel.” With one hand on your bound wrists, Jimin holds you steady, while he uses his other hand to help you unfold your legs and let them hang on the side of the bed. 

“Easy. Lie down for me.” He bends down with you as he lowers you down to the bed until you are lying on your back. 

His gentle hands run down the sides of your body once more as he helps you settle down on top of the silky sheets, taking account of every dent and curve forming your figure. His touch then traces down your thighs, carefully rising them up until your knees are bent and the heels of your feet are resting right on the edge of the mattress. Then he reaches up, palms gripping your hips before pulling you back down a bit closer to the edge of the bed. 

“Open your legs for me, angel,” he murmurs, and you easily comply, spreading yourself to expose your bare center. He gives you an appreciative hum as he glides his hands back up, guiding your arms above your head. The tips of your fingers brush against the covers, and he helps you get a grip on the soft fabric before letting you go. 

Once he positions himself between your knees, his hands are immediately back on your legs, and they start moving slowly up your thighs. He keeps going upward, tracing his palms up the curve of your hips, to your waist, brushing the sides of your breasts as he continues his way up. 

His featherlight touches on your skin have your body trembling, your senses coming alight, warmth surging down south to where you are bare and exposed to his eyes. 

But those pretty eyes of his never waver from your face. Not even as he bends forward, covering your body with the length of his until his face is so close to yours. 

“Hold on tight and don’t let go,” he whispers close as he slowly moves down until he is kneeling on the floor, his face disappearing between your legs. 

He runs his hands back up your thighs. A velvety touch that draws a myriad of sensations through your body. Then his fingers slip down towards your center, sliding right between your thighs to find your mounds. You immediately grow damp as Jimin draws a finger up between your folds. Your body immediately quakes with pent-up desire in response to his touch. Your hips rise, hoping to press down against his touch, only to have him pulling away. 

“Jimin,” you gasp.

“Yes, angel?” he coyly asks as he bends down and starts teasing your inner thighs with soft, tickling kisses. It draws soft gasps slipping out of your lips, before your breath is caught in your throat the more he rises closer to your center. His hands move down just then, settling on your spread knees to keep you from writhing off of the bed. 

“Touch me, please.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t recall ever agreeing to let you give orders, angel,” he gently chastises you, his lips never wavering too far from your skin. “You promised that you are mine tonight, remember? That means you are mine to do with as I wish.” 

A soft groan escapes your lips. You cannot help it. You are growing desperate already and his teases keep testing your patience. 

“Are you sure you want me to touch you?” 

“Yes, please!” you nearly scream. The desperation you feel is clawing at your chest. Unable to move your arms, you clench your hands tightly on the silky sheets the same way you wish you could pull his head towards your pulsing core.  

His teeth scrape up your inner thigh, and you finally cry out. But when he doesn’t move any closer to your center, you arch your body upwards, nearly shoving your hips towards his face to chase his lips. 

“Hold still,” he gently reprimands you with his grip tightening on your thighs. “You will not move, angel. No matter what I do. Not until I say you can. Do you understand?” 

You suck a deep breath and swallow, nodding your head before you remember his command to speak. “Uh, yes. I understand.”

Please. 

You swallow back the word that you want so much to say. Even if you have no idea what you are begging him for.  

Jimin grabs your hips and yanks your body down towards him, your bottom only lying partly on the bed and your legs hanging in the air as he lifts them upward, knees still bent and raised until your legs are partly folded above you. As if he heard your plea, Jimin dips back down and focuses on your center, his hands moving directly to the place where you need him the most. 

Jimin wastes no time. You barely see or hear him move, when suddenly, two fingers plunge deep into your drenched pussy, drawing a scream from your lips. Your hips buck upward, nearly hitting Jimin right in the chin, and he immediately draws his fingers out. 

“That is one,” he says, almost sounding pleased, while you are too far gone to make sense of what he is saying.

Jimin cups your chin and guides you to meet his gaze. “Angel? Did you hear me?” 

Whining, you shake your head vehemently and whimper, “N-no, Sir. I didn’t.” 

Jimin bites back his grin. Your eyes are glazed with lust, yet you can still see the amused look on his face, as if he is enjoying the way you keep defying him so easily. 

“That was one,” he repeats himself, “One time you disobeyed me after I specifically told you not to.”

He trails his fingers across your hips while your heart flutters in your chest. “I will count each time you fail to follow my command, and once you reach the count of ten, you will be punished. Do you understand, angel?” 

You lick your lips. You know the risk of not following his words and what it may entail, and your heartbeat picks up, only for a different reason other than fear. The promise of punishment shouldn’t excite you so much. Yet it does. “Yes, Sir.” 

“I want you to stay perfectly still, angel. And do not come until I say so. Understand?” 

“Okay. I mean, yes. Yes, Sir,” you answer with a small voice, already feeling the effect of his touch as his fingers begin to trail closer and closer to your heat. 

Your body grows still, waiting for the touch that takes its sweet time to come. But then he stops. His hands disappear from your skin, and he suddenly dives forward and bites down on your inner thigh, making you gasp as your clit throbs in both pleasure and pain. 

Jimin continues, kissing and licking a burning trail towards your mound. A soft growl comes out of him when he tastes your arousal. “Spread your legs wider,” he says, lifting your left leg to rest on his shoulder once you do as he commands. 

A single finger slips inside you, entering your warmth. He moves it gently, swirling and pressing against your hot walls, drawing your cries when his touch finds the spot where you are pulsing with pleasure. 

You let your head fall back as you begin savouring his touch. To feel the waves of raw pleasure building, rising, and pooling right at your core before they begin to spread all over your body. Yet Jimin never gives you the chance to relish it, as he suddenly draws his finger back out, leaving your hot walls clenching onto nothing. 

In desperate need to chase the dwindling pleasure, to feel him inside you again, your hips rise before you realise it happening. A deep chuckle is heard, letting you know that you have messed up. 

“How many, angel?” 

His voice is soft, yet it still brings shivers down your spine as you breathe out. “T-two.”

“Seems like you’ll need more practice about control,” he hums softly. You open your eyes, your gaze blurry as you watch him licking his finger. A soft whimper slips out of you, then he lowers his hands once more. You feel his fingers trailing down your inner thighs, making their way back to your pulsing center. His lips follow close, replacing his touch as he leaves a brief, teasing kiss on your mound. 

“Hmmm,” Jimin hums before returning for more, pressing his lips on your slick folds and licking your arousal, “You taste delicious, angel. Like a drop of bourbon. Sweet, and delectable.” 

While he keeps whispering sweet, sultry words, your words slip away from your mind. Every hot breath falling on your skin as he continues trailing his lips on your mound—going across, between, up, and then down—sends goosebumps through your body. Each time, you feel him taking a deep breath, as if soaking in your scent while he continues tasting you, all while murmuring pleasantries to tell you how intoxicating it is to breathe in the heady fragrance from your body. 

Your thighs tremble as you struggle to hold back, not wanting to break his rule one more time even when you can feel your body twitching, your hips in desperate need to thrust upward into his lips so he would devour you. You fight so hard that you are beginning to find it hard to catch your breath. 

“Please,” you softly beg, “I can’t.” 

“Yes, you can,” Jimin mumbles against your skin. 

“Please, Sir.” The desperate whisper comes out with a hoarse voice, and it takes away all of your focus. 

Everything that happens next unfolds before you can stop it. 

Jimin’s lips hover above your hot center, his warm breath coats the slickness that has been building between your slit. You feel the briefest of a kiss right before a finger slides back in, pushing deep just as his mouth clamps around your clit. Sparks fly underneath your eyelids while your inner walls begin clenching around his finger, and you cannot stop yourself from rocking your hips, following each pulse of pleasure that is brewing inside you as you push to grind your center against his mouth. 

Anything you try to do to stop the waves of pleasure from continuing to build fails as Jimin slides two fingers inside you, curling them up against your sweet spot, and you immediately lose every last control you still have. 

Your pussy draws tightly around him, and just as you feel the coil loosening and snapping inside you, he bites your inner thigh, hard, just a mere inch away from your pulsing core.

With a cry, your body jolts and arches, and your hips begin rocking in the same rhythm as the pulse rising in your body. Your body rises from the bed once, twice, and right before you cross over the edge at the third rocking, everything stops when Jimin laps the mark he left behind with his bite and pulls back. 

“Still counting, angel? Where are we now?” 

“I—” You gasp, finding trouble to catch your breath and to focus on his voice. “I can’t—” 

“Don’t lie to me, angel. You don’t want me to add your punishment for defying me, do you?” 

Sucking a deep breath, you try to count how many times you felt your body rocking against him. “Six, sir. That was six. I—I think.”  

Jimin hums. “The numbers seem to be rising. Are you deliberately letting yourself go just to test me? Are you that curious to know what kind of punishment you’re getting if you keep disobeying me?” 

You shake your head as you look up at him. “N-no, Sir. I wouldn’t dare.” 

With a smirk on his face, Jimin presses his lips on your quivering thigh. “Prove it to me, angel. Try a bit harder to hold back. Remember, you’re not allowed to cum until I allow you to. If you dare cum, we’ll make it twice the count. Is that clear?” 

Pressing your lips together, you stop yourself from crying out a protest. Only for another sound to come out of your lips when Jimin dips back down between your legs, and he isn’t using his hands this time to push you over the edge. 

Without warning, he dips his tongue deep between your swollen nether lips, searching for your opening. You let out a sharp cry at the invasion but do nothing to move away. The sinful touch of his lips and tongue feels like heaven, it sends your body straight towards the height of pleasure. 

Jimin stills your convulsing hips with his hands as he continues to move his tongue in circles, lapping at your pussy like a man with pure hunger. He trails his tongue up your labia, drinking in your essence and tasting every drop of your slickness, before moving back down until he reaches your tight back hole. 

The sound of your moans increases, growing more intense the more your excitement grows in you when you feel him rimming the floret. His fingers work your lower lips, right where his mouth has been, which keeps flooding with drops of your arousal. Jimin smiles against your heat, as if he knows that you might explode and come to climax at any given time if he continues like this. 

You try to focus on holding still, to stop the telltale of your orgasm from manifesting before you are allowed to make it happen. But Jimin isn’t giving up on testing your limit just yet. 

He gives a few more licks before his mouth moves back up, finding your folds, his tongue slipping between your slit to press against your opening. When his tongue finds purchase, his teeth grazing at your clit, he presses a finger at your back entrance and slips a knuckle in. You are too far gone in the erupting pleasure to stop it from unleashing. Your orgasm takes over your body like a massive wave, and you let everything go with a scream. 

Tears trail down your cheeks at how intense it feels, your release breaking down the barrier you try so hard to put up. Your back arches up to the ceiling when the wave of your climax comes rushing in, while your entire body quakes with your release. 

Jimin kisses your skin with a soft growl, snapping you out of it. You are still struggling to catch your breath when Jimin gently lowers your leg and begins crawling his way up on the bed, covering you with his warmth. Making a sound with his tongue, he takes your bounded hands and carefully loops them around his neck. You open your eyes as he pulls you up against him, taking you with him as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. 

His arms come wrapping around you as he brings you onto his lap, and you instantly collapse against his chest, turning boneless in his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to him, “I couldn’t—”

Jimin silences you with a gentle kiss on your temple. “That was quite a show, angel.” He begins kissing away your tears. “Quite an intense one.” 

You gasp when you realise what has just transpired. The spasms of your unbidden release are surging through you together with your pulsing blood. “I tried—” 

“I know,” he coos softly, soothing you, yet there is a glint of knowing in his eyes when he pulls back, his thumb brushing away the remaining tears on your cheeks. “Your body must have grown more sensitive from being stimulated continuously, and I wasn’t making it easy for you knowing that this might be the first time someone else is taking control of your pleasure,” he confesses with a smile on his face that doesn’t show any hint of remorse. “But rules are still rules, angel. You know that.” 

“Yes, I understand.” 

“Good girl,” he says, those simple words light up some fire in your chest. and your mind begins to spin, floating higher just as he carefully lifts you up from his lap. 

Needing to have something to grab onto so you can ground yourself, your fingers find the strands of his hair, sinking into them before grasping at them. When Jimin finally releases you, he gently lays you back onto the mattress. 

He smiles at you as he unlatches your arms from around his neck, bringing them up over your head again. 

“Look at me, angel,” he whispers while looking at you with a deep, smouldering gaze, and you are powerless to look away. “Have you been keeping count of how many times you disobeyed me with that last release? What are we at now?” 

Recalling what he says earlier about giving twice the punishment should you let yourself come to climax without his permission, you swallow hard before answering, “That would make it e-eight, Sir?” 

“Very good,” he praises you once again, bringing back that same flutter in your chest when he smiles. With gentle movement, he carefully moves you up to the center of the mattress, giving you a brief moment of respite. “Now stay still for a moment. Are your arms hurting? You can lower them for a while as you wait.” 

You bite your lips. “Can’t I take the silk tie off?” 

Jimin chuckles. “No, angel. You need to keep those hands tied so I know you’ll behave.” 

Slowly, you lower your arms to your chest, giving yourself a little break even if your wrists are still tied up together. “They aren’t too tight, are they?” Jimin asks while cupping your cheek. He watches you closely as you try to get comfortable against the silky sheets. 

“No, Sir,” you answer after pulling and twisting your hands to test the tension, finding them quite loose, even if the bind will not fall apart if you pull harder. 

“Good. Now try to relax and stay still for a moment,” Jimin says as he slowly moves away. “I’m going to prepare everything we need.” 

The moment he disappears from view, your curiosity grows. You wish you could see what he is doing, but your position makes it hard for you to look across the room. Unless you want to defy his command and lift your body from the mattress just to get a look at him. After a moment of silence passes, you begin to feel uneasy. 

“Jimin?” 

“I’m here, angel. I’m not going anywhere far,” he reassures you, as if he knows how vulnerable you are feeling when he is not in sight while you are lying naked and frustrated. 

But it doesn’t take long before he returns. You can hear him setting down a few items on the side of the bed and fiddling with them before making his way round to your end of the bed to return to you. 

“Move all the way back on the bed, angel. Against the pillows, and keeps your legs apart, knees up.” 

Licking your lips, you slowly roll to your side and rise on your hands and knees, before you begin crawling your way up the bed. You can feel his gaze on you as you move, your bare bottom exposed to his eyes, and your arousal still dripping down the top of your thighs. Feeling his gaze on you, your hips instinctively start swaying just to give him a show, even if you are struggling a little with your wrists still bound together.  

You feel completely hyperaware of everything as you gingerly position yourself at the top of the bed with your back resting against the pillows. Your skin feels warm under his gaze, and while he isn’t the one touching you, your skin tingles as you gently lift your knees up, keeping them bent as you spread your legs apart for him. 

The bed dips as Jimin climbs onto the bed to follow you. His movement is graceful, even as he crawls on the mattress like a predator coming to his prey. The dark look in his eyes distracts you enough to make you miss the item he is carrying in his hands until he kneels back, towering over you with his gaze running down your body. 

“Give me your hands.” 

You gingerly show him your hands, still tied together at the wrist with the silk slip. With a tug, Jimin releases the bind, freeing your hands together. You draw a gasp as the blood flows through your skin again, drawing a soft chuckle from Jimin as he watches closely at your reaction. 

“Don’t look so relieved just yet, angel. I’m taking this off because I have something better to replace it.” He smiles to you, before revealing the bundle in his hand—a lengthy silk rope in the colour of red, almost as thick as the hemp rope you saw on the table earlier. “I wonder if taking away your control completely will help you submit easier. That’s why I brought this over to help us out.” 

Swallowing hard, your skin grows warm at the implication of his words, right as he unravels the thick silk rope. Its length seems sufficient enough for him to have it wrapped around all over your body. To have not only your limbs restricted from any movement, but your entire self, taking away your control. 

A complete submission. 

Your heart races at a thundering pace, realising that Jimin is about to fulfil your wish. You gently move your body, arching your chest and trying to find comfort as he gets closer. A smile flickers on his face as he watches your reactions, and then it fades when he takes your hands in his. 

“Did you know that years ago, when this club first opened for business, this room, specifically, had a different name?” Jimin questions you as he untangles the silk rope right before your eyes. “Back then, this room was called the Bondage Room.”

You lick your lips, doing your best to control your breath, to focus on his words, and not fall under the excitement rising inside your chest. 

Jimin continues while he gently stretches out the silk rope until it unravels to its full length, “But with other, more discreet, and well-extinguished clubs housing Doms and subs, we didn’t have as much request from them to use this room, except for the regular Doms who have then become our earliest VIP members and would always come back for more. The smaller Play Rooms were being developed at the same time, and these rooms intrigued more people, so we added this special room as one of the optional Play Rooms to make it less”—a grin appears on his face—”imposing.” 

“Intriguing,” you whisper with a hum, your voice coming out small. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice is steady when you speak again, “That’s quite an intense name for such a room. But—” You look around the room, only just as much as your position allows you to, and then add, “Well, compared to the rooms I’ve looked up online, I don’t think this room is—” 

“Adequate enough to earn its name?” He softly chuckles. “Oh, these furnitures aren’t the only things the club prepared for the room to serve its purpose.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Do they come out of the storage when someone like me, or a client, requests them to? Just like—” You take a deep breath, then release, your eyes flickering to the rope in his hands. “Like these tools and toys we’re using?” 

“Oh, they’re all here. They’re always ready to be used,” he muses as he pulls one end of the silk rope with one hand, and uses the other hand to tilt your chin up, drawing your eyes far upwards instead of stopping on his face, “You’re just not seeing them yet.” 

You look up, and sure enough, you see them. Up on the ceiling, there are sets of lattices of steel grids and tracks. The muted flecks of light are reflected against hooks and carabiners tethered to thin girders on the corners of the room. You can even see those same hooks hanging right above your head, spread between the tall pillars rising on each corner of the bed which seem strong enough to hold the entire length of silk rope—or the hemp rope that Jimin prepared—should he choose to use them. 

“We’re not playing with these hooks yet,” Jimin explains, as if he knows where your mind is running off to. “You’ll get there one day, once you’ve gotten used to it.” 

You bite your lips, trying not to get too excited when you hear the implications he is giving you; the chance for more, somewhere in the future. 

“Have you, um—” You are not sure how to ask, or if you have any rights to, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “Have you used this room before?” 

The smile that Jimin wears on his face deepens. “I was the man they hired to put this room to a test before it was opened for the rest of the guests.”  

His answer surprises you, yet it drives your mind spinning, both with anticipation and relief, knowing that you have gotten the perfect partner—the perfect master—to guide you through this whole thing. You immediately start looking at Jimin in a different light when your gaze finds him again, before you are lost in the intensity you see in his eyes when he looks at you. 

Jimin lowers his face, holding his gaze on yours as he presses gentle kisses on your fingers, palms, and wrists, soothing the tingles you still feel from the first bind with his lips. His kisses linger right where the silk strip was wrapped around your skin, sending shudders throughout your body. 

His gaze, his kisses, and his touch are so enthralling that you cannot look away, distracting you from his other hand as he slowly brings the silk rope around your wrists, starting with one before going to the other.  

His fingers are gentle against your skin, and his gaze is soft. He easily takes away any tension you still have in your body when he begins his work. Instead of feeling anxious, you find your body relaxing under his touch, even as your control is being restrained as Jimin ties your wrists together. 

Still with his eyes on yours, he finishes and leans down to kiss your wrist again, pressing his lips right on top of the silk rope holding your hands together. Once again, he does the same thing as before, testing the bind and slipping his fingers between the rope and your skin to make sure there is enough space to keep you from getting hurt. 

“I need you to tell me everything you are feeling. Everything that goes through your mind. And don’t feel scared to use your safewords anytime you need them. Okay, angel?” 

Your breath is heavy when you pull it in, but you still manage to answer, “Yes, Sir. Okay.” 

He smiles. “Very good,” he says, as he pulls the tails from the silk rope and lays the rest of the lengths on either side of you. 

“How are you now? Comfortable?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out. Your voice fades to a soft gasp as his fingers run gently down the column of your throat, before moving up to your chin. His eyes are slightly dark and hazy as he runs his thumb across your lips. 

“I’m going to tie you to the bed to stop you from moving and fighting me. Make sure to loosen up your body and relax. Don’t fight me if you don’t want to hurt yourself trying. Understand?” 

“Yes. I understand,” you whisper breathlessly. Your voice is nearly drowned under the sound of your thundering heart as you anticipate his next move. 

Another gasp slips out of you as Jimin presses a firm grip on your hips and guides you to slide forward. Settling deeper into the silk pillows, you try not to panic when he presses your palms to his lips, one side and then the other, and then stretches your now restrained arms over your head. 

Using one hand, he holds you still in position, while he moves his other hand to gather around the silk rope. You feel a tug as he winds the rope around the bars on the headboard, tethering you to the bed frame so that you won’t be able to move your arms anymore. 

He brings the rest of the rope down, wrapping it around your arms, down and under your shoulders. Then he winds it above and under your breasts, framing your soft mounds and giving them a bit of tension. You can feel your skin tightening under the bind, your nipples becoming slightly more sensitive as the blood in your veins seems to gather at those gentle peaks, that even a brush of chill air makes them pucker. 

“Still green, angel?” Jimin asks you as he pauses briefly, gauging your reaction. 

The sound of your pulsing blood makes it hard for you to think for a moment. But then his words sink in, and you try to test the restrain. 

Expecting to feel pain and complete stillness, you are surprised to find that aside from the tension on your wrists and the muscles around your shoulders, you can still find comfort. Your arms may not be able to move, but your chest isn’t tight, and your breath isn’t restrained, even if every part of your body and your skin has become more responsive to every sensation being delivered to you. 

“Yes,” you answer him as you test around the restraint one last time before settling back down. 

“That’s good. Now relax.” Jimin then dips, disappearing from sight for a moment as he moves on the bed. You try to swivel your head and twist so you can see him, but once again, your position obscures you from looking around. 

“Jimin—” You start calling his name, only to feel his hand brushing against your ankle. “I’m not leaving you, angel. You can trust me, can’t you?” 

Exhaling a sigh, you whisper to him, “I’m sorry for doubting you, Sir.” 

You have no idea why you are feeling insecure, to feel anxious whenever he isn’t visible. As if you need his presence to feel calm. 

The restraints on your upper body make you feel self-conscious, vulnerable, yet liberating at the same time, knowing that the only thing you need to do is surrender. Only that you are still finding it hard to completely surrender your control when you have spent your entire life taking control. 

A soft chuckle comes out of Jimin when he hears you. “Shh…no need to apologise. You are doing very well.” 

His praise comes at the same time his gentle fingers begin running down your legs. You see him kneeling between your parted legs when you open your eyes, his fingers drawing circles around your ankles, up to your calves, heading towards your bent knees, yet your bare—and now damp—mound between your thighs becomes his singular focus as he does so. Leaning closer, he makes a humming sound as he appreciates what he sees when he runs his gaze down your body. 

“You are beautiful, angel. Every inch, every curve, as if you are perfectly carved for me,” he murmurs as he bends down, pressing a kiss on the inner sides of your knees. 

As his fingers continue to travel up your thighs, followed closely by his gentle lips, your hips begin to move on their own, grinding down, searching for friction that can ease the intense pulsing growing between your legs. You dig your heels into the mattress for leverage as your body twists and swivels, while at the same time, anchoring yourself, knowing that he needs you to keep still. 

“Please,” you whisper, almost desperately, when you feel his mouth gliding across your skin. “I’m not sure if I can hold still.” Especially when you can almost predict what he is up to, the stimulations he has been giving you are still affecting you that you feel like you have gone off balance and have yet to recover. 

All it took was to have one taste of his touch, his kiss, and the raw pleasure that he gave you, and your body is already craving for more. 

Tiny spasms arise from your core once more as he kisses a trail down the inside of your thigh, causing your legs to tremble. Jimin smiles against your skin when he notices this. He moves his hands to give your thighs a firm grip when you try to close your legs, pinning his head at the center. 

“Are you asking me to bind your legs as well?” he teases you with a sly grin on his face. Keeping one hand on your thigh to keep it still, he moves his other hand up to your center, finding your heat. 

A moan slips out of you the moment you feel his touch on your damp center. “I…I don’t know,” you barely manage to answer, unable to think clearly with the way his fingers are gently grazing your folds. 

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle and says, “Maybe I should. Just to make sure that you won’t be kicking my face when I get too close. But I’m enjoying the way you are wriggling with every touch. I want to see how you respond to me, so I won’t be restraining your legs just yet.” 

You can barely hear any word he says when his kisses continue to trace a burning trail down one thigh, then going back towards your center. His hands slide to your hips, holding you steady as he dips lower. A brief touch of his lips on your folds draws a gasp from you, and then his tongue slips out, lapping briefly between your slick folds as if he wants to have a taste of you. 

The sensation he brings to your body makes you cry out, your body begins shaking, your hips almost rising against his hold, yet he quickly withdraws and starts kissing down the other thigh. 

“How responsive,” he murmurs. You can hear the tremble in his voice, as if looking at you responding to him is affecting him as well. “So beautiful.” 

He pulls back, and you nearly panic when you feel his weight leaving the bed, only to feel it dip on a different side of the mattress. You bite down your sigh of relief knowing that Jimin is still there, but the shuffling sounds you hear next quickly have your curiosity piqued. 

“I have something that I think you might enjoy,” he says as he slowly returns to you. “But obviously, I won’t be making things easy for you.” 

His gaze flickers with something wicked as he looks down on you. His smile makes you swallow hard, making you wonder what kind of nefarious thoughts he has for you. “Do you remember what was our last count for your punishment, angel?” 

You lick your lips as you try to remember through your hazy thoughts. “Um…e-eight?” 

“That’s good. A bit too close to your limit, doesn’t it? Try to focus and keep that number in mind,” he says. His words sound cryptic, leaving you to wonder what he is about to do next. “Now, try to relax and stay still.” 

Jimin runs one hand down the inside of your thigh, not stopping until he reaches your slick folds, once again touching the center of your heat with his gentle fingers. He slides one finger between your folds, moving it up and down your slit until you can feel your slickness coating him. Then he presses his thumb on your clit, moving it in circles, sending spasms of erotic pleasure through your body and causing you to lift your hips. 

Then, all of a sudden, he stops. 

With a gasp, you open your eyes, just in time to see him shaking his head while clicking his tongue. “What did I say about moving?” 

Whining, you press your hips down to the mattress, trying your best to ignore the pulse fluttering in your core. “I’m sorry,” you moan, “I can’t control myself.” 

Jimin hums softly. “Of course, you can, angel. Just follow my words. So how many do we have now?” 

You bite your lips, holding back a moan as you feel his fingers pressing at your folds again. It is hard to focus when his touch feels maddeningly good, filling your head with blissful haze. 

“N-nine,” you answer with a whisper, biting back the moan threatening to come out of your lips when Jimin presses his finger back into your slit, pressing at your entrance. 

“Good job, angel,” he praises you, before pulling his hand away. “Now, remember to focus on your breath.” 

You feel another pressure at your mound. A different kind this time. Instead of his finger, you feel a firm, cool piece of rubber or silicon pressing at your entrance. 

Is it a vibrator? You wonder as Jimin continues pressing until the toy slides into your pulsing walls. 

Grabbing the silk rope hanging between your wrists and the headboard and pressing your heels into the sheets, you try to find leverage to hold on, stopping your body from moving and wriggling against your restraint. The toy continues to slip deeper inside you, pressing against your sweet spot. You feel a different part of the toy resting against your clit once Jimin stops pressing it, while the rest of the length is perfectly buried inside your throbbing walls. 

Nothing is happening yet. But your body has grown so sensitive after all of his teasing and his wicked foreplays, the muscles inside your slick pussy have been throbbing after your initial release, already needing more, that even the subtle pressure you feel coming from the toy feels almost too much for you to handle. With a flick of a finger, Jimin makes sure that the toy is settling nicely inside you, drawing a tiny moan from your lips while your body shudders in your restraints. 

“Take a deep breath, angel. Slowly,” he gently guides you, his calm voice penetrating through the fog that has been blinding you, making you realise that you have your breath caught in your throat as you relish the peculiar sensation of being filled with a firm toy inside you. 

Taking shallow breaths, you continue until your chest no longer feels constricted. With air in your lungs, everything in you seems to wake up, allowing you to relax, and to feel. “That’s perfect. Good job, angel.” 

His praises keep coming, and your body keeps reacting to it. Your heart always picks up at his encouraging words, and your skin always grows warm. But more importantly, an unusual sensation rises from within, as if each praise he gives only brings your carnal desire back to life instead of soothing it to calm. 

“Are you ready, angel? Remember to control your breath. Remember not to move or lift your hips, just surrender and take everything,” he says, his fingers rubbing at your clit, before gliding up and down your parted folds, feeling the area where you are stretched enough to allow the toy to fill you up. 

“And lastly,” he whispers while leaning down over you as his fingers find the tip of the toy, his lips hovering close to your ear when he says, “Remember that you cannot cum until I tell you to.” 

Before you can make sense of what he is asking you, you feel a click, and the vibrator starts buzzing to life. Gasping at the sudden rush of pleasure rising inside, you begin crying, yelping, twisting against your restraint, all while whining, “Oh, God. Jimin, I…I don’t think I can—” A gasp comes through you when the vibrator keeps pressing at your sweet spot as it continues vibrating against your pulsing muscles. 

Through the haze of your arousal and pleasure, you are somewhat aware of Jimin’s attention. His gaze never strays away from you, as he focuses on your face, watching the slight arch of your body as you respond to the toy’s impact within your hot core, and mostly, to watch as you keep getting pushed towards your limit and fighting to hold it back.  

As he watches your legs twitching, he immediately gives a light touch on the toy, pressing it further inside you, before he begins moving the toy as it vibrates inside you. 

In and out the toy slips through your walls. Each vibration feels like it’s growing harder each time it is pressed into your depth, while its girth keeps pushing against your slick walls. And then he ends it by pushing it as deep as it can inside you, pushing until there is nowhere else for it to go, and nothing else for you to feel except for the maddening pleasure it is giving you.

There is no helping you against what happens next. 

Everything inside you snaps. Your body rocks at the telltale waves of your climax, your hips moving to respond to each pulse of pleasure you feel fluttering inside your core. 

Then his gentle fingers move around the toy, finding your swollen clit and giving it a light pinch. Immediately, you are sent right to the edge. And you are ready for it. Ready to embrace your final release, the orgasm that you feel building inside you, ready to take over. 

But just when you rise from the mattress to let yourself fall over to bliss, the vibrator suddenly stops, leaving you panting and hanging right on the edge. 

You open your eyes when Jimin’s touch disappears from your body. A slick grin on his face when he teases you, “Bad girl. How many does that one make our count, hmmm?” 

Your brain feels like a mush that you fail to understand what he means, still annoyed from being denied of your release, until you realise—

“Ah…it’s t-ten.” 

Tilting his head, Jimin makes a humming sound that feels like a taunt. “A shame, but that’s already at our limit, isn’t it?” 

Slowly, you nod, completely losing your voice this time when the fear of punishment suddenly sinks in. 

“Shall we try again?” Jimin asks you, “Should I give you one last chance to avoid punishment?”  

You lick your lips and force your body to relax. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you wait until the last spasms of pleasure start to ebb before nodding your head. “Yes, Sir,” you whisper to him as you open your eyes, just in time to see his gaze darkening. 

You feel the click rather than hear it, and the vibrator buzzes back to life, sending you an overwhelming feeling of pleasure so intense you find yourself on the verge of pain. Already, you are panting, but you try to control your breath, holding on as much as you can to not let yourself get thrown over the edge. 

There is no helping it. You can feel it rising; the telltale of your orgasm coiling at the core, building up faster and harder than before. Yet you are ready for it this time. Taking a deep inhale of breath, you focus on breathing, on the tight clutch of your bind as you pull it downwards, and the way your heels are sinking into the silky sheets. 

“You’re doing a good job, angel,” Jimin murmurs as he presses his lips up your inner thigh. He rests one hand on your lower belly, gently pressing down, while you feel his other hand gliding its way up your calve. “Let’s take it another notch and make it fun, shall we?” 

The first thing you feel next is a nudge, as Jimin reaches between your legs and gently touches the vibrator. A resounding click is heard before the vibration intensifies. Its sound fills the room, going just as wild as the tremor it spreads through your body. 

You let out a cry, which quickly turns into a series of moans as Jimin begins to move the toy in and out of your pussy, sliding it between your throbbing walls to incite various new sensations through your body, while pressing the part which meets your clit to have it nudging against your soft flesh, pushing the waves of pleasure to a whole new level. 

“Please, Jimin. I can’t—” 

You can almost hear Jimin’s murmur, yet his voice is drowned under the heightening pulse filling your ears. The vibrator continues to move under Jimin’s guidance for a few more thrusts, then you feel him bending over your center. The next thing you feel is the invading toy settling deep inside your hot walls, the push has it pressing against your sweet spot, and the last restraint holding your hips down vanishes as your body arches up. 

You are close. So close. Incoherent noises continue coming out of you while your body is engulfed in the waves of pleasure. You are already coming so close to your release, and now you are hanging by a thread with need. “I’m—” you gasp, feeling it coming, the rise of your orgasm becoming uncontrollable, and you are powerless to stop it. “I—” 

And then, once again, everything stops. 

Right the second your climax is about to take form, the vibrator shuts down, taking away the rising heat, the intense pulses, breaking everything down while leaving you teetering on the edge. You are panting, your chest heaving as you struggle for air, and not too surprised to find your hips rising from the bed, chasing for that final release with slow, steady rocking. 

But the moment you meet Jimin’s eyes, his lips forming a sly grin, you quickly realise what just happened. 

“That was quite a shame. You were doing so well,” Jimin says with a soothing voice, while his gentle fingers are rubbing your hips as he lowers them back on the bed. “How many does that make our count in total, angel?” 

Still gasping for air, and feeling the hum of your denied orgasm lingering in your body, making your skin grow even tighter than before, you find it hard to find your voice. Much less to answer. Then Jimin pulls the vibrator out of you when a gentle tug, causing you to hiss, both at the pressure you feel as it slides against your clenching walls and for the sudden emptiness which follows after. 

You can feel your muscles throbbing, contracting, searching for purchase, yet finding nothing to grasp onto. 

“Angel? Can you hear me?” 

Swallowing a whine, you exhale a shaky breath and answer, “Yes.” 

“Hmmm,” Jimin hums as he slowly crawls over you, his body hovering on top of yours, which helps you notice the tremors still rushing down your body. “Do you recall how many we have now?” 

You gasp. “Eleven,” you whisper breathlessly as you look into his eyes through the haze of your arousal. 

“Quite a good number, but unfortunate that it means we’ve gotten past ten,” he whispers with a teasing grin. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back, only to have him leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. 

You feel his hand rubbing gently on your waist to soothe you. “Like I said, there’s nothing to apologise for, angel. But you do know what that means, don’t you?” 

“Are you going to punish me, Sir?” 

“Maybe,” he murmurs, with his gaze moving lower, taking in his work as your chest rises and falls under the restraint of the silk rope, “perhaps we can use this to test how much you can truly endure pain.” 

His voice sounds almost like a purr as he says this. His eyes linger on your bare breasts for a moment, marvelling at your skin, the puckered mounds, and your hardening nipples. 

“I have something else in mind that I want to try with you,” he says once his gaze finds yours again, “One last thing to try before I make you come. This is something that I very much enjoy, but I need to know if you are down to try it with me.” 

“I think I’d like to learn more,” you answer him before biting your bottom lip. You are feeling too many things at once already, and still curious to see what he has in mind. After going through all his previous treatments—his tests—you decide it would only be right to continue and see through the end. 

“I’m happy to hear that,” he says, sounding proud and relieved, which tells you that you have made the right call.

You wish nothing more but to please him. It is a peculiar feeling, when your reason to come to this club was to seek pleasure, and yet, you find yourself being the one to feel the need to please your beautiful host. 

Just like any other sub would to their Doms. 

Jimin moves away from the bed, though not completely out of view. But he takes away the warmth that he made you feel with it. 

Your body is still on high alert. The remaining spasms of your unbidden bliss are nothing more but a slow, languid pulse in your body, yet they still show no sign of waning anytime soon. You may not be able to see him from this angle, but the quiet lets you know something is about to happen. The clinking sound of a chain moving that you hear as he returns gives you a hint of what comes next. 

Needing something to hold on to, something that can help keep you grounded, you entwine your fingers with one another and clench them.

You try to focus on the sounds again, to steal a glance at what he has prepared for you, but he quickly distracts you with his sinful lips. 

Positioning himself once again between your legs, he runs his hands up the curves of your body, his lips quickly following close behind as he trails a soothing kiss on your skin. Starting from your hips, to your waist, and then he brushes his lips across the underside of your breasts, following the stretched line of the silk rope binding you there, before continuing his way up the mounds. 

“How lovely,” he murmurs, palming your breasts and squeezing them gently. “And so perfect.”

Your chest is filled with warm flutters as Jimin continues cherishing your bare breasts, stroking and pinching them, before he leans down and begins kissing and licking, sucking and biting, taking his time as he gives equal attention to each side. Shocks of pain and pleasure shoot through your body. His eyes flicker to your face, searching for your eyes as he fastens his mouth around one nipple. He flicks his tongue around the flesh and starts sucking on it until the tender bud turns firm. 

Your eyes flutter close at the sensation he is making you feel. And then his mouth leaves your skin, hovering close as he blows softly on the hardened nipple for a brief moment, before a searing pain suddenly consumes you. 

Your hips buck at the rush of pain, rising from the bed, and you scream as the sensation tears through your body, feeling it going straight down to your pussy. Your eyes fly open and you gaze down, noticing the small clamp attached to your nipple, glimmering in gold under the dim lighting falling over your body. 

You bite your tongue when a specific word is threatening to slip out of you. But you force yourself to focus, finding a different word that won’t immediately stop everything, yet would be enough to give you a moment to process this pain. 

“Yellow!” you gasp as you try to find purchase by tugging at your restrained wrists. “Oh my God, yellow. Please.” 

“Sshh, it’s okay, angel. We’ll slow down,” Jimin whispers to you in a soothing voice. His gentle fingers run down your torso, tracing your skin in a way to soothe you, to distract you from the pain. 

Slowly, your cries turn into soft gasps as you try your best to calm down. In reality, you are too overwhelmed with everything; the pain as the clamp bites tightly at your nipple; the shocking pain that is slowly shifting into pleasure as it reaches the depth of your core; and the way your body is humming in response to the myriad of sensations happening all at once. 

Jimin slides his hand down between your legs, distracting you from the pain as his fingers slip between your slick folds. You feel him pressing at your entrance, before the tip of his finger pushes forward, teasing you with a touch, only for him to pull back. With his lips hovering over the clamp, Jimin blows slowly at your skin before he crawls up and brushes his lips under your ear. 

“Breathe, angel. I’ve chosen the smallest clamp and have it on the lightest setting. I have to attach the other one before we continue so you need to relax.” 

You begin to shake your head violently, your arms pulling at the silk binding you to the bed. “No, not yet. Yellow. Please. Just—just one moment.” 

A deep sigh escapes him as Jimin rises above you. Propping himself on his elbow, he looks into your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks you with a small smile. “Let me try this one. We’ll get it over with and have both of them on, and if you are still at yellow, I will remove the clamps, will that be okay?” 

“Y-yes, I think so,” you whisper as you try to make up your mind.  

“We need to be sure, angel.” 

You bite your lips, feeling conflicted. You can barely breathe. Your nipple is throbbing under the clamp, yet your clit is pulsing with the same cadence. It feels maddeningly good, and at the same time, confusing. 

How could this much pain push you so close to the edge of ecstasy? 

But the more you feel it, the more it is making you curious to see what comes next. So you welcome this new sensation, believing that there is pure ecstasy at the end. 

And because you trust Jimin with everything you have. 

You lift your gaze to Jimin, finding calmness under the heat of his gaze while his hands are moving on your skin in calming circles. The pain is still there, slowly growing dull as Jimin continues to distract you with his touch. And there is also your desire to try everything all at once tonight. To experience everything that he has to offer while you have the chance to delve into it.

With a deep exhale of sigh, you nod your head to Jimin. “Okay, yeah. I’m ready.” 

“What a brave girl,” he whispers, and he immediately slips his finger into your pussy. Your muscles spasm around his finger, welcoming him and the delightful sensation that comes with it. 

The combination of pain and pleasure nearly overwhelms you. You moan softly while pressing your hips on the mattress to hold back from rocking into Jimin’s hand, to do anything to release the intense pressure gathering inside you. Your toes curl against the sheets when Jimin’s firm lips capture your free nipple, sucking and licking and biting, teasing your soft bud until it grows just as firm as the other. 

His fingers join his mouth soon after. Then he starts pinching lightly as his mouth comes off your skin. Seconds later, pain explodes over the sensitive nerve endings as the second clamp clutches on. 

This time, though, the pleasure from the steady thrusts of his fingers, combined with the press of his lips on your skin as he trails kisses around your soft flesh and up towards the column of your throat, are helping to distract you from the pain that you are starting to embrace it. 

Jimin covers you with his body while you are still processing this. Warm, bare skin and firm muscle are pressed against yours, with his upper chest hovering over the clamps. The small, thin chain connecting the clamps together lay between your breasts. It feels icy cold as the chain digs into your skin under his weight. But his warmth feels so soothing, and you wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist to welcome him in an embrace, desperate to feel him. 

All of him. 

He makes no move, other than the hands that are still working to light up your senses, and waits until your eyes are wide open before he speaks. 

“Still yellow?” 

“Nnhn—” 

Jimin’s chest rumbles with his low chuckle. “Talk to me, angel,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss the tip of your nose, then your chin. “Are you still against the clamp?” 

You try to wiggle beneath him, still feeling his fingers buried between your legs, still moving in circles between your folds, between pressing at your entrance and moving around the clit. The pleasure it brings is the only thing your brain can process for now, while the pain seems suppressed, with a constant feeling of a dull ache throbbing with each pulse of your blood rising under his touch. 

“The pain,” you whisper with a gasp, “It’s grown a bit dull.” 

“Hmmm, does that mean it’s back to green?” 

“Yes. I—” Another gasp slips out of you when his fingers return, sliding back into your pussy. Your upper body arches in response and the shot of pleasure snaps the pain on your breasts back in place, which only makes the throbbing in your core intensify. “Oh, I feel weird.” 

“It’s only natural, and I’m helping to distract you from the pain, which should help get your mind away from the pain. Don’t you think this helps?” he asks as he pushes his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Mmmh—” you moan, unable to form words. “Yes, it does.” You let out a sigh when he presses against the right spots. “It feels good.” 

He makes a soft hum. “I bet it does. But we can’t let you have it all just yet, can we?” Jimin teases you with a small grin, “We haven’t gone through your punishments yet.” 

Hearing this has you widening your eyes. “But I thought—” 

“That the clamps are your punishment?” he asks you with a playful chuckle. “No, angel. This is a part of the play. It’s meant to show you how closely linked together pain and pleasure truly are, and that pain can sometimes show you the immense pleasure that can come with it.” 

Your mouth falls open for a brief moment, surprised, but you can quickly understand what he meant when you can feel it; the throbbing pleasure inside your legs that comes in tune with the pulsing pain. 

“Oh. I see.” 

Jimin’s smile widens. “Shall we continue?” 

Licking your lips, you hold Jimin’s gaze as you nod your head. “Yes, please.” 

“We counted until eleven, was it? What do you say about one spanking of that lovely bottom to each violation you made?” 

Your breath hitches, but a whisper still manages to slip out of your lips. “Yes, Sir.” 

Pulling back a few inches away from you, Jimin frees himself from your legs and pulls his fingers out of your heat. You watch him licking his fingers, humming at your taste, before he begins to run his hands down your body. Avoiding your tense breasts and the clamps attached to the peaks, he trails down your waist with his fingers, then your hips, before pulling back his hand as he continues to gently feel your thighs, still bent and trembling at the knees. 

“This time, I really do think it would be better to bind your legs. Ready?” Jimin asks you as he slowly pushes the back of your thighs, coaxing you to lift your legs further upward. 

You hold back the urge to fight against it, choosing to watch what he is about to do next as he presses your folded legs almost to your chest with one hand and uses the other to reach and lift the tail end of the silk rope binding you to the bed. 

You watch his fingers closely as they work on the rope, and Jimin, realising that you are watching him cautiously, immediately begins to explain, “I’m not going to tie you up too tightly, just getting your pretty legs out of the way.” 

His reassurance helps release all the tension in your body. You try to relax against the pillows, just as much as your bind allows you to, before whispering, “Okay.” 

Jimin presses your thighs down to keep your legs folded. With gentle hands, Jimin works the silk rope around your legs. He starts by winding one end of the rope around your left thigh, going under and around your folded knee until your leg is tethered to your upper body with your feet dangling over you. He continues to do the same to your right leg, the fabric holding it up the same way as the other. 

This should feel awkward, especially when you are made to settle in an odd angle such as this. Yet as you follow his words, making sure to loosen up your muscles instead of straining them and soon find that the bind only makes you feel snug and safe as it settles on your skin. 

And the way Jimin works the rope around your body is mesmerising to watch. A part of you wishes that you could watch everything from a different angle so you could appreciate his work, while another part of you is beginning to feel the daunting realisation of your vulnerability now with both your arms and legs bound. 

With your feet no longer pressing against the mattress, you have lost the leverage you had to retain any semblance of control. Right now, you feel like you are floating, with many different sensations flowing through your body that you can feel everything all at once; the dull ache spreading through your breasts, the constant pulse building from your now exposed center, and the way his light fingers are hitting every nerve ending in your body once he is done, as he runs his hands down your legs, your thighs, your hips, before stopping there. 

“You are a marvellous sight to look at, angel,” Jimin murmurs softly as he gently runs his palms down your thighs. “I wish I could take a picture of you right now so I can keep this moment in my memory forever.” 

Your breath hitches. His praise tastes like honey, while his words are like a spell sending you floating higher in bliss. So high, that you barely notice the move of his fingers as he secures your ankles with the rest of the silk that is wrapped around your upper thighs. Once your legs are perfectly folded above you, spread wide enough for him to slip between them but not enough to make you feel uncomfortable to the point of pain, his work is complete. 

“Perfect,” he says as he sits back, marvelling at his work. Marvelling at you. “Absolutely perfect.” 

His fingers trail down your inner thigh. You are not ticklish by any means, but his light touch keeps sending tremors all through your body that you cannot control. At the same time, the delicious ache in your arms and the helpless feeling of not being able to move seem to give you a new thrill, and you become hyperaware of the way his fingers dance on your skin, how his palms are grazing gently down the curves of your hips. 

You pull at the silk that binds your hands as he traces his palms down your bottom cheeks, now lifted slightly from the bed with the way your body is folded. He rubs his palms gently on your skin for a moment, then he looks up, finding your eyes. Holding his gaze on yours, he makes it so you cannot look away by giving you a sweet smile, keeping your attention locked on him as he pulls one hand back and lands it back on your skin with a hard slap.

A gasp is drawn out of you when you feel the sting. Tears fill your eyes, yet left with no chance to spill when Jimin immediately rubs his palm against the tender skin, soothing the pain away. “Make sure to keep count, angel. How many was that?” 

“Hmmm,” your voice fades to a moan as the dull ache once again lights up the pulsing desire between your legs, “O-one, Sir.” 

“And how many are we supposed to have?” 

With a low groan, you answer faintly, “Eleven, Sir.” 

“Good girl,” he says, as he continues rubbing his palm on your skin, taking the pain away. “Now keep counting. Make sure I can hear your voice so I won’t make a mistake and give you more than what I’m supposed to.” 

Fear grips your chest at the thought of Jimin adding more spanking as punishment, to add more pain, so you quickly nod your head, just in time for his hand to land on the other cheek for another hard slap. “Oh, God—” you gasp, before mustering some will to call out, “T-two.” 

Again, Jimin rubs his palm on the stinging pain, soothing it until it becomes dull. Then, while you are getting distracted by his touch, his other hand returns, slapping the underside of your thigh. “Three—” you call out with a gasp, which quickly turns to a small moan when he rubs the pain away. 

“You’re doing good, angel,” he whispers, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice when your body trembles at how close to your center his fingers are each time he rubs across your skin. 

Another slap lands on the other thigh, right at the skin where your plump bottom meets your thigh. Your hips twitch at the sting, and you are too powerless to stop it. Neither are you capable of stopping the heat oozing from your pussy as the pain from his punishment throbs, sending a rapid pulse right to your core. 

“Four,” you cry out, almost breathlessly, before you sigh at the soothing touch that follows next. 

He repeats the pattern for the next couple of blows, switching from one side to the other, hitting the tender skin of your bottom, before he then moves to the apex of your thighs, always closing in towards your pulsing pussy. And never once do you fail to count his strikes. 

“Five…six…seven…” 

The sounds of his palm slapping on your skin bounce against the walls, always followed by the sounds of cries, gasps, and moans when his next touches soothe the burning pain on your skin into dull aches. 

“Eight…Nine…” 

At this point, your voice has become so hoarse, both from crying and gasping so much, that the sound of your counts keeps fading into whispers. You can barely feel the pain from his strikes, when something else has risen stronger in its place. Jimin lays another strike. The sound rings in your head, but instead of crying in pain, you simply let out a strangled moan. 

“Ten,” you count with a sigh, amazed at how the throbbing on your punished skin seems to melt together with the dull ache on your breasts. 

Jimin smiles, yet says nothing. Not even to warn you before a hard slap lands at your center, right at your slick folds. Your body twitches with the sharp pain, yet pleasure begins scorching through your body soon after. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure goes straight into the deepest part of your pussy that you nearly climax right there and then.

Jimin slips a finger inside you, soothing the shock from his touch with gentle strokes. In and out he moves his finger, and you buck in his grip to feel more. To gain more. Only to have his voice snapping you back from the blissful fog. 

“How many was that, angel?” 

“Eleven,” you find yourself crying, although your voice suspiciously sounds like a mewl. “That’s eleven, Sir.” 

You let out another, louder moan as Jimin sips his finger out of you and slides his hands underneath your body, cupping your bare and tender bottom and holding you firmly over the mattress. “Open your eyes for me. Let me look at you,” Jimin says, making you realise too late that you have your eyes closed. 

There is a smile on his face when you slowly open your eyes. His own eyes light up with pride. 

“You took your punishment like a good girl,” he gently says. His praise makes you feel warm inside, your heart swelling with pure joy which you cannot possibly explain. Your body is humming with need, intensified by the gentle touch he gives on your tender skin. “I surmise you deserve a reward for doing such a good job, don’t you think?” 

“Mmmm, yes. Yes, Sir. Please,” you whine and beg while your body rocks into his palms, wishing that you could go further, closer to his hot body, to be able to feel his desire pressing on your body. 

The need to feel him draws a soft mewl from your lips when you feel Jimin leaning over you, his body positioned between your spread thighs, your bound legs becoming the only things left keeping him from completely covering your body with his. 

“I want to see you come. To feel you when you succumb to pleasure,” he murmurs, his voice sounding close, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips when he speaks, “How should I do it, I wonder?” 

Your eyes flicker to his lips just as he does the same to yours. Licking your lips, you hold back your breath. Realising that Jimin is close enough to kiss, you anticipate him claiming your lips the same way he has been claiming your body. You take a sharp inhale of breath when he leans closer, so close you can almost feel his lips touching yours. 

And then you feel it, his lips brushing against yours. A gentle, barely-there graze. You pull at your restraint to arch upward, meeting him for that kiss. Only for him to suddenly stop.

Coming still, Jimin jerks his head back and shakes it, as if he hadn’t been conscious in his leaning into kissing your lips, and the brief touch of your lips on his immediately snaps him out of it. But he doesn’t pull his hand away from the soft, tender skin of your hips. His fingers glide upward, slowly, until you feel them gliding over your slit. 

A soft moan slips from your lips, your eyes staying on his lips, still longing to taste him even when he is giving you pleasure with his hand to keep your mind off of it. 

“Eyes on me, angel,” he commands and you obey without thinking, still lost under his spell to do everything that he desires. 

He holds your gaze as he screws one finger into you. It immediately draws a whimper from your lips. Not out of pain, but out of sheer need. 

You writhe against the bind holding your wrists together, resisting the urge to grind down and take his finger deeper. Biting your tongue, you focus on the delightful way he is filling you, touching you, teasing you by pushing you close to the edge yet slowing down before you can get there. 

Jimin leans his head down until you are connected temple to temple and whispers softly, “Are you okay, angel? You’ve been rather quiet.” 

Something about him checking on you brings up the flutterings in your belly that have nothing to do with the raw desire you are feeling from his touch. 

Everything about him seems to be in contrast with one another. His voice that doesn’t always reflect in his touches, when one becomes gentle while he is firm with the other. Also with his caring way in making sure that you are completely in this moment while he makes you burn from the inside out. And the effect is immediate, as you feel that heat rippling deeply inside you, pushing forward to have it released. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, and he presses his thumb roughly on your clit, once again stealing your words. 

Jimin tilts his head and laughs softly. “Yeah—what?” 

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find your voice. “Yes, I’m okay,” you answer with a soft whimper, “Sir.” 

A smile grows on his face. “That’s good to hear.” He shifts and wedges a second finger inside you. 

He begins moving them in and out, curling them like scissors, gliding back and forth between your pulsing walls. You buck your hips, nearly rising from the bed as you rock together with his thrusts. 

“Oh, God,” you moan softly as the pleasure rocks violently through your body. “Please, I need to come!” 

“Not yet, angel,” he nearly barks his command with how firm his tone of voice sounds to you. 

The chain between your breasts is lifted, and he pulls at it just enough to give pressure against your sensitive nipples. Whatever force connected the ache on your nipples to the heat in your pussy shatters you from the inside out. You feel like you are hanging by a thread, your blood flowing hot through every part of your body, pushing against the clamps, the bind, and the muscles contracting in your pussy. 

“Come now, angel,” Jimin commands firmly. With one more tug on the chain, he pulls until the clamps detach themselves from your hard nipples, and that’s when you come apart. 

Jimin’s name comes out of your lips in your cry of pleasure. Your body strains against the silk that holds you securely as you come in a blinding climax. 

For that moment, you are lost. You are no longer in the room with various instruments meant to fulfil anyone’s darkest fantasies. You are no longer bound to the bed, to yourself, and instead floating in a dark space that makes you think you are suspended way above the bed, your silk bonds connected not to the bars on the bed’s headrest, but to the ceiling. 

It takes a few moments before your mind begins to clear, and you find yourself plunging back down to the room before you get to feel everything again; the bind wrapped all over your body, the bed, and Jimin’s warmth. 

But you are still high in bliss, still drowned in the waves of your pleasure that you aren’t conscious enough of the movement happening nearby. Needing to pull you back to the present, Jimin rubs your arms, then brushes his lips gently on the tip of your nose, your chin, and then your face, while crooning, “______, come back to me.” 

His voice fades in and out, drowned by the sound of your pulsing blood. But his touch draws you out of your fog until you slowly open your eyes. “Are you with me, angel?” 

It takes a moment for him to succeed in bringing you back completely, with his kisses pulling you back to him while making you wish even harder that he would kiss your lips before he continues.

“Y-yes, I’m here,” you whisper, still breathless. Your chest is tight with how rapidly your heart is beating in your chest. “What”—a gasp slips out of you—”God, what was that?” 

“That was what we call being in a headspace. It’s common to happen once a sub surrenders completely and allows the pleasure to take over.” 

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you recall reading such a thing during your research. You never knew that it would be possible for you to feel anything like it. But now that you’ve experienced something so intense, you cannot imagine ever thinking that anything else would ever be enough. 

Jimin positions himself between your spread legs, his hips resting against your center and his lips hovering on top of yours, once again promising you the kiss that never comes. 

“You responded so well to the clamps, beautiful. So well,” he murmurs against your lips, almost trembling with excitement. “There is so much I want to show and introduce you to, but so little time.” He continues to murmur as he moves to kiss the tears that you don’t realise falling down your cheeks. “Do you want more?” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel his desire poking against your folds, letting you know that he has yet to gain his fill. “Y-yes. But I don’t think I can.” 

“Will you let me try?” Jimin carefully asks you as he caresses your shoulders, his fingers finding the strands of your hair that have grown messy and tangled. 

Drained, yet still feeling the desire to feel him inside you, you give him a vague sound of agreement as you nod. With his fingers, Jimin tugs at the silk binding your legs, releasing them so he can lower them back to the bed. He spreads your knees, his gentle palms pressing on your inner thighs to keep you spread open for him. Still riding the high of your orgasm, your body jerks as he slips a finger inside of you. 

A soft mewl escapes you as you feel the spasms inside your pussy once again, pushing around his digit this time as he slides in deeper. You almost cry yellow, but then he leans down, and finally, begins pressing his lips on yours to wipe away any apprehension you feel about going forward. 

His lips are gentle, and his kiss melts you from the inside and out, drowning the sounds you are making as the kiss draws a different kind of sensation out of your body. With one hand moving in and out of your hot walls, and the other holding you firmly at your hip, you feel like you are going to explode for another reason but the intense pleasure he has promised to give. 

“More,” you breathe against his lips when he releases you from the kiss, his fingers leaving your heat to let you feel your hot walls clenching into nothing. “I need you. Please.” 

“I’m here,” he simply whispers. And then his mouth is on yours once again, with his hand tangled in your hair. His body moulds into you as he covers you with his warmth, his hard cock pressing in the notch between your legs. 

“Is this what you want?” The head of his cock prods your entrance and you let out a mewl, unable to hold back any sound as the need to have him inside you becomes so intense.

“Yes, Sir,” you gasp when he rocks his hips and applies a little more pressure.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He pushes some strands of stray hair away from your eyes, then gazes down with an intensity in his eyes which heats you up from within.

Your mouth falls open as he gently eases his way inside, parting you with his thickness. “Yes,” you manage to answer breathlessly. 

“Good. Now take a deep breath, and remember not to cum until I tell you to,” he murmurs, taking your hips with both hands and tipping you upwards to the right angle. Perfect enough to take him without straining you from your restraint too much. 

Then, with nothing more but the sound of his soft moan, Jimin drives in deep. So deep that you can barely catch your breath as he fills you. As he moves, he starts kissing you again, his tongue fucking your mouth with the same rhythm as his thick cock.

With a gasp, you welcome the pleasure that comes, while almost wishing that you have some free rein to move on your own instead of being under his control. 

Because you cannot get enough. 

You nip his lips, kissing back with all you’ve got, even to the knowledge that he is for sure going to punish you later for trying to top his dominance. But you need this like you need air to breathe. Like you need water to drink. So you drink him as a whole by kissing him back just as roughly. Passionately. Until a sound comes from his throat and his hips buck forward to push roughly into you. 

Your eyes roll back with every thrust. You are half gone with delirium. Almost to a point where you can barely remember your name. 

Jimin’s lids droop as he owns his pleasure, embracing it while giving it to you. His fingers tighten to a bruising strength around your hips as he goes faster, pumping harder, rocking every inch of your being while shaking the whole bed with the pace of his fucking. 

He pulls you up until your body is half lifted from the bed, and keeps thrusting into you, holding your hips and sinking so deep you start feeling him everywhere.  

He sweeps you against him as he claims your mouth with a kiss so fierce it intensifies the heat in your body, nearly sending you over the edge before you are allowed to. 

But it really shouldn’t be hard for Jimin to send you to another climax in the first place. Your body has grown overly sensitive that each thrust he gives you keeps sending you straight towards the edge. 

So you do your best to hold on. To follow his command. To hold back before he gives you permission to release it. Until it finally comes. 

But it never comes. 

Instead, he holds back, coming to a pause as he pulls your body to his chest. You can feel that he has yet to find release even while he keeps giving you pleasure, and from the tremble you feel coming out of his chest, you know that he needs it. But instead of chasing it, he pulls out of you and flips you over. Making you face the headboard as he pulls your hips back and enters you from behind. 

In this position, he drives even deeper. His hips snap and thrust, throwing you forward with his force. The bind around your hands is now twisted and tightens fiercely around your wrists. You use it to pull yourself and brace your arms forward, holding onto the headrest to keep from flying into the wall. His hold on your waist might be strong, but the force of his thrusts against your body while you are bound and helpless makes you feel like you are flying. 

As if your body is defying gravity. 

“Jimin—” His name slips from your lips with a gasp. The words you wish to say to him hang at the tip of your tongue, yet your mind is too muddled to figure out what you want to say to him. Because it feels too much; the pleasure, the intense way he is claiming your body. But at the same time, you wish to beg him to let you find your release. To have more.

“More…” You start begging him, “Harder.” 

Jimin grips one side of your hips and grabs a fistful of your hair as he slams into you. The moan that comes out of your mouth is sharp and sudden, drawn by the feeling of him filling you with his hard length. 

You feel him leaning down against your back, his lips brushing at your ear with rushed breaths coming out of him. The hand that settles on your hip moves lower, finding your center before the tips of his fingers find your swollen clit. The touch is brief, yet it sends sparks of lightning under your eyelids when the pleasure peaks. 

“Is this what you need, angel?” Jimin asks you between his thrusts without missing his steady rhythm. 

“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, Sir!” 

Seeing—and feeling— the way your body welcomes him, Jimin repeats the action and presses against your clit, rubbing it in circles. You shudder as he fills you, as his thrusts continue relentlessly, and the satisfaction he brings sends your body almost to its limit. He gives four quick pumps, then another hard, deep one, pushing at the right spots, and you feel the telltale of your orgasm teasing at the seam.

Jimin releases your hair and palms your hips to drill deeper, his hips keep smacking against your bottom as he pumps in and out. 

You hang your head and let out a whimper. The need to savour this raw pleasure has grown so strong, but your body has gone through multiple climaxes that you are not sure if you can last much longer. 

The pleasure grows intense, making you dizzy with lust, with raw desire. It comes with a shudder that Jimin relishes as he reaches down, pressing his thumb at your rear opening until you feel him slipping in. A sharp cry slips out of your throat, to the point that you are nearly choking when each firm thrust he gives keeps pushing the air out of your chest. 

“Not yet,” he warns with a growl when he feels the spasm of your climax building up. 

“Please. Oh God, please, Jimin,” you find yourself begging, though your mind is muddled with the need for release that you are not even completely aware of the words that keep shamelessly spilling out of your lips with your desperate plea. “Please, more. Harder. Please, Sir. Oh, God—I need to come.” 

Jimin’s thrusts grow more erratic, yet he is still going hard. “Not yet, angel,” he says with a strained voice, almost as if he is speaking with his jaw clenched tight. 

He slams into you, hard, nearly pushing you forward. You are not sure if you can keep your arms up for much longer. The numbness keeps growing as your body continues getting ravished. He seems to notice you losing balance, because he pulls his hand away from your rear and smoothly wraps one strong arm around your waist to help hold you up instead of falling face-first into the pillows. This brings him closer to you, his bare chest pressing to your back, and the thrusts feel deeper even without as much force. 

It feels so good, it makes you even more delirious. You feel as if you are soaring, as the rightness of being taken completely by him brings you to a new level of pleasure. You have already found how easy it is to be vulnerable with him, to let down your barriers and let him lead, so you can easily give your pleasure to him. 

A curse slips out of his lips as his grip on you tightens further. His breath becomes heavier, you can hear and feel it with each in and out. You can feel his thighs shaking against yours, showing you that you are not the only one hanging on the edge of release. 

He lets out a deep groan and thrusts deeply, moving in and out, in and up, almost lifting you from the bed, your knees rising with the force of his lovemaking. He pulls you up and back against his chest as he straightens back up and taps your clit with his fingers in rapid succession. 

And this almost does you in. With a gasp, you cry out to him, “N-no, I can’t—I can’t hold on.” 

To your relief, Jimin whispers to your ear, “Ready to come, angel?” 

He moves his hand up from your waist to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple and pinch, bringing back the pain which the clamps had ignited on your skin, while he presses hard against your clit to set you off. 

You arch at the mix of pain and pleasure. Thrusting your breasts onto his hand, a hoarse cry escapes your lips. “J-jimin,” you call his name with a gasp. 

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Take it, angel. Take it all.” 

He groans as he bites out his command, “Let yourself go, angel. Let me feel you come around my cock.” 

With his words, you let go. 

You let out another cry as your inner muscles begin spasming intensely with the wave of your orgasm. You nearly flip backwards, your head hitting his shoulder as your body convulses in your climax. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, squeezing and pulsing around his thick length. 

“That’s it, angel,” Jimin murmurs in your ear. “Your pussy feels so good around me.” 

He nuzzles your neck, pressing kisses there. Beyond the blissful fog, and the stars filling your eyelids, you can still feel him; rocking gently from behind you, prolonging the waves of pleasure rushing through your body while he waits for you to ride out your high. 

His cock is still rock hard inside you, rubbing your insides in a delicate manner which feels intoxicating, thrilling, and overwhelming at the same time. 

“How are you, angel? Still with me?” he whispers to you while you are still riding your high, still rocking your hips against his, savouring the delectable hum of your orgasm with him buried inside you. He keeps giving you slow, languid thrusts while he waits for your response. 

“Hmmm—yes…” 

Jimin lets out a chuckle as he leans down, taking your ear between his teeth for a light bite. “You don’t think we’re done yet, do you?” 

Your hips jerk when he pushes deeper into your tight walls, his hard cock pressing into your heat. “But it’s too much,” you gasp, your body growing rigid with how sensitive you have become. 

“Just one more, angel. Give me one more,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he begins rocking his hips again, stirring back the pleasure that has yet to come down completely, dulling the ache and the soreness when your body easily complies, quickly adjusting to this new high. “You can do it. I know you can.” 

It feels delicious. Delectable. Too much and not enough at once. You are flying so flipping high, drunk in pleasure, drunk on him, on every drop of need and desire that he has somehow woken in your body and soul. 

“Fuck, yes. Arch that back for me, angel.” He drags a palm down your spine and lays a light slap on the side of your bottom cheek. 

And you arch for him, doing it just as he asks of you. 

His breath grows heavy. His movements start getting jerky, and a bit too rough. Not for your pussy, as the pulse of desire only seems to be getting stronger, but for your back and shoulders, your body getting drained and used up from all the strenuous movements. 

Before you can say anything about it, Jimin shifts, leaning forward and laying his torso over your back. He reaches forward, bracing one hand on the bars right next to where your hand is keeping a tight grip to hold on. His other hand moves back to your breast, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and tugging just like he did with the other. 

Moans after moans keep slipping out of you. He sees this as a sign that you are high in pleasure instead of pain, so he strokes his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds your clit again. 

A shudder rocks through your body, and he bites your ear right before that shudder turns into something more. “Not until I tell you, angel.” 

With a gasp, everything stops. You fall quiet and listen. You have learned to wait, to follow his pace as he comes almost to a complete pause to let the spasms of your climax fade. 

“Do you understand? You don’t come until I say you do.” 

His voice in your ear seems deeper, and it flips some kind of switch in you. Your pussy contracts, but not enough to push you over to the edge. Your toes are curling beneath you, feeling the anticipation strengthening the pleasure that keeps building, and building. 

Jimin pulls you back and suddenly flips you over. You are now facing him, with your back down on the bed, yet your hips are lifted until they are resting over his thighs as he enters you again. 

“I want to look at your face when you come for one last time,” he says, as he curls his hands around the tops of your thighs, wrapping them around to grip your ass and pulling you back and forth over his cock. 

You find yourself back in a state of delirium, feeling ecstatic with the way he is handling you with his skilled hands. You know better than to fight it, realising that this is what you need. So you simply submit to the sensations building inside you, letting go of any inhibitions left in you so you can take everything that Jimin is giving you. 

“That’s it. Look at me, baby. Just like that.”

You are feeling euphoric with intense pleasure, but it doesn’t stop you from basking in the heat of his gaze. He moves his fingers around your clit in circles, then switches, as he slides his hand under your ass and parts your cheeks. When you feel him tapping your pucker rim with a finger, you are completely lost. 

“Now, angel. Come for me.” 

The guttural tone of his voice sounds just as urgent as the desire peaking through your body. For the last time, you shatter completely, your hips snapping up and down as the release uncoils faster than a whip snapping in the wind. 

The wave of your orgasm hits you intensely, stronger and bigger than the last. You let out a scream, the sound coming louder as he squeezes your nipples, hard, bringing back the same pain that he caused you with the clamps, only with his hands, all while he keeps pushing and rubbing his cock hard inside you. 

While you shatter in pieces in your release, Jimin puts you back together when you feel him pulsing inside you. With a strangled gasp and a rough groan, Jimin succumbs to his release. You feel his warmth filling you up, some drops of his cum escaping with each slow thrust he is giving you before he finally comes to a complete halt. 

“Marvellous,” Jimin murmurs, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he tries to catch his breath. “You are marvellous, angel. Way better than I could ever imagine.” 

Then his lips find yours again, taking you in a deep, lingering kiss. It makes you forget for a moment where you are, and that you are still bound to the bed—to him—when the heat in your body sizzles to warm. Right at that moment, as your tongue dances against his, you finally understand the reason why Jimin had tried his best to avoid kissing your lips at the beginning of your playtime.

The kiss feels sensual, too intimate, that you melt into him for a reason which has nothing to do with the intense play he had just introduced you to. 

It feels too intimate for a kiss to be shared in a place like this. 

And yet you do nothing to stop it. Instead, you let him pull you tighter into his chest as he kisses you deeper, until the bind, the club, and everything else around you cease to matter. 

You feel drowsy, tired and spent, yet filled with content, that you can feel yourself slowly falling asleep. 

It doesn’t help that Jimin’s soothing touch keeps making your body feel more lax, that you wish for nothing more than to lie back down on the bed. Sweats and other essences left behind on those fancy silk sheets from your playtime be damn. 

But you also have no wish to pull away from his warmth that feels so comforting, enveloping you in a way that makes you want to curl up and doze off until you are ready to step away from this invisible bubble of yours. 

Right now, you just want to savour this moment. Because this…

This is why you keep coming back, searching for such pleasure by opening yourself up to your darkest desire. 

It’s the calm that comes after the heated moment that you just shared with a partner who desired the same thing you did by coming to this place. A place where your reality no longer matters. The contentment and peacefulness that come over you once the heat slowly subsides. 

This is when your mind clears. When your mind can rationalise everything that has been going on in your life without your anxiety blinding you. When you can stop feeling as if you have no control over your life. 

Submitting control to someone else’s hands is never meant to make you feel powerless. It’s always meant to be the opposite, as even in complete submission, when you are met with the right Dom as your partner, you are the one to hold the control. And there is nothing more fulfilling than finding pleasure at the end as your reward. To feel even more powerful when you can finally take back your control when your playtime is over. 

That was the very reason why you requested to have this kind of treatment for this session. What started as a deep curiosity about the dynamic has grown into a desire which you secretly harboured to experience. And after weeks of having your life spiralling out of control, you saw this moment as a chance to test the theories you’ve learned about submitting to pleasure. 

You never expected to find yourself reaching something as divine as being in a headspace, where everything felt so serene that you simply forgot everything. And you certainly didn’t expect to also experience something like this; the gentle, caring touch that comes afterward as Jimin eases you back into reality. 

To be taken care of and spoiled and praised after you allow yourself to be taken over by lust. 

Taking a deep breath, the soft floral scent of freesia mixed with a sweet, fruity fragrance fills your chest. It makes you smile as you breathe it in. 

When you first entered the room, the air was thick with rich, aromatic trails of burning incense. The typical scents that have always been spread within the exclusive rooms in the club to set the perfect ambience for the guests as they enjoy their night in this place. This room, specifically, was filled with earthy sandalwood, mingling with the sweet floral touch of jasmine and fresh lemongrass. 

Merely moments ago, those delicate scents were replaced by the heady scents of sex and sweat, which had grown so thick after your intense playtime with Jimin. The scents that are still present in your skin, albeit faintly, under the scent of body wash clinging to your skin after the warm bath that Jimin had given you once he was done with you. 

As you lean into Jimin’s chest and the comforting touch of his fingers, you can still feel everything; the warm water from the bath which soothed your sore muscles; the calming scent of the soap which Jimin lathered on your body; and the gentle way Jimin took care of you through it all. 

Just like how he gave you light massages to ease the numbing ache on your arms and wrists after releasing you from the ropes, he is still rubbing your skin, easing the soreness left behind from the bondage. 

“I think,” you hum softly the moment you feel his lips pressing on your wrist, “If you keep rubbing and kissing my skin like this, I might just fall asleep right here.” 

This causes Jimin to laugh. His voice is velvety and soft that it feels like a warm blanket that makes you want to sink further into his embrace. 

As you move in his lap, the front of your robe falls just enough to expose parts of your breasts once again, and you make no move to fix it. It doesn’t do much to steal away the warmth you feel in your body. Not when his hands are doing just enough to make up for it. 

Jimin’s gaze follows the fallen fabric, and a distaste look appears through his eyes. Not at the sight of skin, but at the way the robe seems to be blocking his view. Even if he was the one who had dressed you in the robe once he was done cleaning you up in the bath. 

Clinging to his robe that is now secured in place, you look up to tease him, “Are you thinking about stripping me down again, Sir?” 

With a light chuckle, Jimin shakes his head. “I wish I could, angel. But you’ve given me more than enough already. I’m not sure you’ll be able to give more.” 

His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, coaxing your lips open and delving inside to taste you for one last time. His hands grip your hips and wind their way up to your waist, doing it slowly, as if you are just as delicate as the silky robe now covering your skin. 

“Everything okay, angel?” Jimin’s voice is soft, just enough to push through the newly blissful fog rising in your head. The rumbling in his chest nearly sounds like a purr, and you find yourself wanting so badly to lean deeper into it. 

“Yes,” you answer with a content sigh. “Everything’s just marvellous.” 

Jimin lets out a soft hum as he kisses the top of your head. “I couldn’t agree more.” He leans back and tilts your chin up until you are looking up at him. “This was much better than I ever could imagine. Thank you for giving me this opportunity,” he says while looking deep into your eyes, and you can almost swear you feel the insides of your chest turning into jelly. 

“I should be the one to thank you.” 

The smile on his face softens. “It’s quite unfortunate, but I suppose this marks the end of our playtime.” 

“Bummer,” you tease him with a playful pout, though your comment doesn’t have a bite or bitterness to it, even if you do feel the disappointment of knowing that your time is up. 

Kissing your pouting lips, Jimin takes your hand and helps you rise to your feet. He waits until you are no longer swaying before he lets you go, but not before guiding you towards your door. 

“Do you need my help?” he offers one last time right as you reach out to press the button to open the door. Still feeling reluctant to do so, you hold back as much as you can, for as long as you are allowed to, just to stay like this with him for a bit longer. 

Looking at his face again, knowing well enough that the next time you meet him, there will be a mask shielding his beautiful face from view, you commit every detail of him in your memory.

“No, I think I’ll manage,” you answer him once you feel like you have enough control to tame the buzzing in your body.  

Jimin looks at you with the same gaze he had during playtime, before he nods, and that look fades. When he opens his eyes again, he straightens himself up the way he always does when he is acting as the host for the club, already shedding his master’s role to put on his original role as your host, even without his suit on.  

“The car for your ride home will be waiting for you downstairs once you are ready to leave,” he gently says, though with the familiar tone that he uses when he is setting up your arrangement with the club. It stings a little to hear it, yet it also helps you to slowly prepare yourself to return to the real world. 

“Until we see again,” Jimin adds, and you immediately stop him before he can turn away.  

“This special offer—” you hesitantly ask, “Is it a one-time thing?” 

Jimin doesn’t answer you right away. But there is a glint in his eyes which seems to speak a thousand words before he speaks. It is the same look that he gave you when he made the offer to be your master. “Whenever you are ready to set up your next appointment, let your host know that you are requesting for your preceding master.” 

A flutter of a smile grows on your face. “I’ll make sure to remember.” 

He watches you press the button at your door to open it, yet you remain in your position to watch him go as Jimin turns away to the other side of the room. Without taking another glance over his shoulder, Jimin presses the button to open the door to his side of the wall and steps out of the bedroom. 

And then he is gone. 

— Jimin— 

“I heard that you recently made use of the Bondage Room again. Is that true?” 

The day is still quite early for Club La Rouge to be filled with its regular patrons. But the VIP lounge already has some guests unwinding to end the day. Some with drinks in their hands, some enjoying imported cigars while sharing light conversations with their peers and sponsors, while others are simply here to fill their time of leisure before diving into the club’s evening bustle. 

Sitting in front of Jimin is not just a regular VIP guest of the club. 

Kim Seokjin is one of the owners of Club La Rouge and the head representative who deals with the club’s activities and patrons directly. He is also Jimin’s employer. The same person who first brought Jimin to be a part of the club years ago. 

Jimin had already expected that at least one of the owners would catch wind about him entering the special Play Room not as a host, but as a willing participant. He should have expected that person to be Seokjin, who is always so strict in keeping up with all the happenings in the club, whether it is something that involves the club members, his co-owners, or his favoured staff. 

“Yes, I have,” Jimin admits as he sits back on his loveseat, meeting Seokjin’s eyes. “I’m surprised it took you this long to bring this up. It’s been a few weeks since it happened, after all.” 

Seokjin gives him a smile in return. “You and I both have been quite busy with the new development for the club, so I haven’t thought about bringing it up,” he admits after placing his cup of tea down on the table between them. “How did it feel to be back into it again? I know that you haven’t been active in the BDSM club scenes for a while. I haven’t heard of you coming to other clubs to find a sub or spend any night with the club’s escort for a play for weeks.” 

Jimin can’t resist the laughter coming out of him. It’s typical for Seokjin to be so blunt in bringing up his past endeavours in the middle of a conversation. He isn’t wrong, after all. 

For a long time, Jimin has always been familiar with the BDSM scene, even long before he became involved with Club La Rouge. He had spent many nights frequenting the BDSM club scenes in the city to look for the perfect sub to play with, yet never once could he find the desirable release that he was searching for. 

When he first met the owners of Club La Rouge years ago, he knew that he had finally found the perfect place for him to satiate his desire. 

Just like what he shared with you that night, Jimin was first brought in to test out the new sex rooms before they were publicly launched for the club’s members. Specifically the Bondage Room and the smaller Play Rooms that were built to complement it. He even helped with the design, the main concept, and provided lists of instruments and items that the club needed to create the perfect space for its patrons to live out their fantasies to the fullest. 

All thanks to his past experience and knowledge of the sex scenes that most of the owners were still considered novices at the time. 

He remained in the club after the initial development as a full host in exchange for good pay each month and free access to any of the club’s benefits—as long as he followed the club’s main rules as many others were required to. The arrangement had worked perfectly for Jimin. For a time, he felt that his involvement with the club was enough to satiate his needs that he would only visit the other BDSM clubs whenever he needed a change of settings. 

It all changed the night he took the role of your master, when he finally got a taste of you and your complete submission. 

“I’d have to say that it was quite—” Jimin mulls over for a moment to find the right word, “Liberating.” 

Seokjin’s lips rise to a grin. “Quite the choice of word,” he says, “I suppose she was worth changing your own rules and boundaries, then?” 

Jimin resists a groan. Despite all the restricting rules that the club has set for its staff, it was his own boundaries that prevented him from even considering involving himself with a club member. Specifically, a member that he is fully responsible for. 

He did change a lot of things that night. Crossed many boundaries. Risk his own connection with the club. 

All for you.

Was it truly worth it? He wonders with a side grin on his face. Yes, absolutely. Even with the consequences that followed. 

Days have continued to pass by since then, and have quickly turned into weeks. Yet the night Jimin spent with you in the Play Room remains in his memory so vividly that he can almost relive it each time he closes his eyes. 

He can still feel the touch of your skin at the tips of his fingers, and breathe your delicate scent through the heady scents of the club’s signature fragrance that he has gotten accustomed to after working in this place for so long. Oftentimes, all he simply needs to do is reminisce a small part of that night, and he would be able to hear the sounds of your voice that came out of your lips when he pleasured you. 

It has messed with his mind so badly that he hasn’t been able to return to the club scenes nor has he been able to enjoy them as much as he used to when he eventually did try to venture into other clubs and find a new sub.  

At the same time, it has left him waiting. Anticipating. For him to feel a deep craving of raw and unbidden pleasure that only you could fulfil. It has been a while since he last felt this way. 

“For now, it’s worth more than anything,” Jimin admits, surprising himself to feel this way. It must be quite surprising for Seokjin as well, as the man immediately laughs. 

“I wonder if she thinks the same. Do you think she’ll come back to request another chance?” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to scold me? Put me on a timeout for fraternising with an exclusive member?” 

Seokjin lets out a scoff. “As one of the earliest hosts who helped run the club from the ground up, you have privileges that no other hosts have. I’m only surprised it took you this long to find someone you’d risk everything to,” Seokjin says with a teasing grin. “So? Is this going to be just a one-time thing, or has she decided to try a new master now that you’ve crossed one of her checklists?”

“Well,” Jimin clenches his jaw at the thought of you giving control to a different master, until he recalls your last words before he left the room that night. 

“This special offer. Is it a one-time thing?”

Jimin eases back in his seat, no longer feeling tense, knowing that you had at least harboured a desire to repeat that night should the chance be given to you. Even if it’s nothing more but a small wish. “She hasn’t revoked her membership since that night, so I think we can expect her to return.” 

He can only hope that you haven’t decided to change to a new host for your next session, so he can be prepared for whatever kind of arrangement you will be making when you return. 

Weeks have passed since that night and you have yet to make any arrangements with the club for a new session. It shouldn’t be a surprise, since it was one of your patterns to wait a few weeks between booking a session with the club before Jimin gifted you the new privilege that you now have. 

But it doesn’t stop him from expecting news from you each time he sits down at his office to arrange different sessions for other club members that he is hosting. He tries not to think too much about it when he returns to his office this evening to open up the club’s schedule.

This week has been slow for the club, presumably due to the fact that most of the VIP members in his quota had recently joined the latest club event that was held at the end of the year. Jimin is in the middle of updating the members list to prepare for the start of the new year when a notification arrives on his system. He doesn’t think much of it when he opens his tablet to check the incoming email, until he sees the content and hope blooms for him. 

As if fate is on his side tonight, your name appears on his screen. 

He quickly skims through your email, reading through the reservation that you had just sent in for your future session which is set for the weekend. His smile grows wider as he reads the detailed specifications that you have added in your email, until he reaches the end, nearly leaping out of his seat to shout and celebrate when your message says,

“Request inquiries for one private session.  Choice of accommodation: The Play Room. Special theme request: Complete Submission.  Specifications: Bondage. Role play. Blindfold. Open for pain and punishments. Choice of partner: Request for the Preceding Master.” 

— ©yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.