#jimin x reader

[perfectlyoongi]

!BTS MASTERLIST ㅤㅤ↬┊genre: headcanons. ㅤㅤ↬┊series status: on going. ㅤㅤ↬┊always open to suggestions.

↬┊pre-boyfriend!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊boyfriend!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊husband!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊soulmate!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊parent!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊ex-boyfriend!BTS ... angst ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊second-chance!BTS ... hurt/comfort ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊best-friend!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊long-distance!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊roommate!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊jealous!BTS ... comfort ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊older-brother!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊sugar-daddy!BTS ... nsfw, suggestive ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

↬┊co-worker!BTS ... fluff ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. yoongi.ㅤ⋆ㅤjungkook.ㅤ⋆ㅤnamjoon. ㅤㅤㅤ⚘. hoseok.ㅤ⋆ㅤjimin.ㅤ⋆ㅤseokjin.ㅤ⋆ㅤtaehyung.

[gimmethatagustd]

blunt rotation | pjm

Supplying your law school classmates with weed on the regular might as well be a full-time job. It's lucrative, but lately, you've seen a dip in profits. Maybe it's because you keep giving out the Pretty Boy Discount to a certain guy in your ethics class…

Pairing: Pretty Boy Jimin x weed dealer Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: Law school, classmates to lovers, smut, a classic jai weed fic

Word Count: 7,477

Content Warning: Marijuana, a somewhat subby Jimin, consensual sex while high, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, protected vaginal sex, self-indulgent rants about capitalism and classism, lame dick jokes

A/N: On god, this fic is probably more about weed than anything else khskdjfs. My 420 fics are probs especially bad, and i decided i do not care. #blazeit

Soundtrack: a weed playlist made by yours truly 

“What is the difference between ethics, morality, and law?” 

Professor Kim leans against the desk at the front of the lecture hall with his hands gripping the edge on either side of his hips. The action makes the muscles in his arms flex, and you eat up the tan skin exposed by how his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The tight white button-up accentuates plump pectoral muscles that threaten to pop and lose a few buttons. It wouldn’t surprise you if it happened. Professor Kim is known for being accidentally destructive. 

It is unethical to fuck your professor because it would create a conflict of interest; you’d imagine it would be hard for Professor Kim to ethically assess your academic performance if he’d been balls deep in you. 

It’s morally wrong to fuck your professor because you know he’s married, not because he has ever provided your class with information about his personal life, but because you sit at the front of the class. From your position, you can see the glint of his wedding band. 

Legally, you’re pretty sure there isn’t a law against fucking your professor. It probably goes against your university’s code of conduct, but that’s not a law. 

You sink further into your seat and let your eyes wander the room. Everyone diligently takes notes as Professor Kim turns to the presentation projected on the large screen behind him. Ethics and Professional Responsibility isn’t your favorite class, but no one said getting your J.D. would be fun. On the contrary, everyone you knew said it would fucking suck. And it kinda does. 

One thing that doesn’t suck, though, is having a class with your program’s resident pretty boy, Park Jimin. 

Pretty boys aren’t your type at all. You prefer boys who are rough around the edges. You’re not interested if a guy doesn’t look like he’s a one-way ticket to jail or hell. Maybe it’s the rebel in you. Maybe you like the idea that opposites attract. A lawyer and a criminal sounds like a cute ship, no? 

Pretty boys are too soft for you. They’re the type to have skincare routines and listen to Jack Harlow. No thanks. 

Yet your eyes always manage to find Jimin. 

He’s sitting to your left and a few rows behind you, but close enough to see him when you turn your head. He sits with perfect posture as he scribbles notes on his iPad, plump lips puckered in a cute little beak of concentration. 

Fuck, no, not cute. Ridiculous. Soft and childish. Everyone in the room is at least in their mid-twenties, some even in their late fifties. A prestigious J.D. program has no room for beaks and squishy cheeks. 

You’re about to look away when Jimin lifts his stylus to his mouth. The end presses a small dent into his plush bottom lip. You instinctually lick your lips, though your mouth suddenly feels dry. 

Jimin sits that way for a few more seconds with furrowed eyebrows as he focuses on his notes. At Professor Kim’s mention of the end-of-the-year oral argument, your classmate finally lifts his head to face the front of the room. His eyes are bright and wide, unlike the haggard look of your peers, and you watch them shift back and forth as he reads whatever is on the screen. You have no idea what Professor Kim’s talking about; your roommate, Hoseok, will fill you in when you get home. 

All you know is that Jimin finally pulls his stylus away from his lips and casts a sideways glance in your direction. You lock eyes for a split second before he quickly ducks his head, suddenly interested in his notes again. 

You snort loud enough for the woman sitting next to you to give you an odd look, but you ignore her and return your eyes to Professor Kim. 

Your eyes don’t stray from the front of the lecture hall for the rest of the class. It’s not difficult; there isn’t anything else you find interesting enough in the room to distract you. Nothing. Especially not Pretty Boy Jimin. 

“Hey, can I come over tonight?” 

Two pale hands splay across your desk once the class is dismissed. Chipped, black polish adorns each nail, except for the pinkies, which are painted white. 

“Why are you asking me? You don’t need my permission to visit your boyfriend’s apartment.” 

“I’m trying to work on my manners, jeez.”

You roll your eyes and slide your tablet into your backpack. “Where were your manners when you and Hobi fucked on my couch? Hmm, Yoongi? Where were they then?” 

Yoongi lets out a low groan as he steps to the side to let you fall in line with him as you exit the classroom. Your roommate is waiting in the hallway, always the last student to arrive and the first to leave. 

“That’s different,” Yoongi huffs, though this time, the sound is due to Hoseok crushing him in a hug once they make it into the hall. “Besides, I’m asking because I’m bringing my friend. We aren’t going to stay. He just wants someone to come with him.” 

Hoseok untangles his arms from Yoongi’s and adjusts his backpack. Your best friends act like surviving a three-hour class is like surviving a lifetime apart. 

“Ohh, a friend?” Hoseok leans against Yoongi with his eyebrows arched. His questioning tone is fair. The three of you don’t have many friends aside from each other. It’s hard to maintain friendships with people outside of law school. There’s simply no time. 

“What is this, the buddy system?” You snicker as you follow the two men to their cars. “Sorry, I only do business with adults.” 

There is quite literally no reason for you to be judgemental about whoever this mystery friend is, but class has put you in a cranky mood. Probably because of stupid fucking Park Jimin with his distracting lips. Your unpreparedness for the oral argument is slowly causing anxiety to creep into your chest. 

Yoongi gives you a light smack to your bicep. “Some people get nervous about this shit, you know that.” 

“It’s weed, oh my god. You act like we’re cooking meth in our basement.” 

Yoongi stops walking to give you a stern look with narrowed eyes and a cocked head. “You don’t even have a basement.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s 2023, and weed is legal.” 

“It is legal to purchase weed at a licensed dispensary. However, you are not licensed to sell weed, nor is your apartment a dispensary.” 

“It’s got enough weed in it to be one,” Hoseok snorts, but the sound quickly morphs into a severe cough when Yoongi’s glare is directed at him. 

Yoongi yanks his car door open and slides into the driver’s seat. Then, with one leg still on the ground and his arm holding the door open, he lets out a long sigh. “You two are insufferable.”

“Love you too, babe!” Hoseok giggles and sends his boyfriend a flying kiss as Yoongi drives out of the parking lot. 

“For an anti-capitalist, Yoongi is so old-fashioned. I’m providing a product to the everyday person at a reasonable price,” you grumble while you fasten your seatbelt in Hoseok’s car. “Dispensaries are classist. They’re way too fucking expensive, and they’re all in affluent neighborhoods, anyway. The gentrification of marijuana in this country is ridiculous. Where does Yoongi think those tax funds end up? Not in neighborhoods that need them. And what about expunging people’s records? Is the government ever going to do that?” 

You slump in your seat, the sudden energetic burst of social consciousness in you dying out. “I hate rich people.”

Hoseok hums in agreement, keeping his eyes on the road as he drives. “We’re about to be rich people, though.” 

“Not me. Civil rights law isn’t going to make me rich, and I’m not touching corporate with a ten-foot pole.” 

Yoongi and so many other people in your program are too dependent on what is and don’t stop to question what can be or what should be.

Ethics is a social construct, morality is subjective, and law is arbitrary. 

Going to law school is less about learning how to be a lawyer and more about learning how to play a game. 

When Park Jimin walks into your living room, all you can do is blink at him. Your eyes are red and glassy, your mouth dry even though you’ve been sipping water, and your limbs feel too gooey to bother getting up. Maybe you’re hallucinating him, which would be very upsetting because you don’t want to explore why he’s sticking around in your head. 

But then Yoongi is ushering the guy to sit next to you, and the dip in the couch as he eases down feels too real. 

“Ah, Jimin! You’re the friend!” Hoseok gives the newcomer a blinding smile. Smoke punctuates each word, billowing toward the ceiling. There’s already a thin haze to the room; you and Hoseok have been smoking for a while. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

Jimin gives Hoseok a small smile. He also turns to give you one, but it falters when you meet his gaze. 

You’re not sure what expression you’re wearing. It could be anything, really. Or nothing at all. 

“Hi,” he says quietly. His lips are so pink. You want to ask him how soft they are. 

“How much do you want?” Is what you ask instead. 

Jimin turns to Yoongi, who is now cuddled up with Hoseok on the other side of the room. The chair is made for only one person, but they have never known personal boundaries. You suppose if they’re dating, it doesn’t matter. 

“Just give him an eighth,” Yoongi says with a dismissive wave. He’s more focused on plucking the blunt from Hoseok’s lips and bringing it to his own. 

“Of what?” You huff your words, twisting the joint you’ve got between your middle finger and thumb. It’s clear that Jimin knows nothing about weed. He can’t even come up with a measurement or a strain. 

Yoongi glares at you as if this is somehow your fault before saying, “Anything. Maybe not Girl Scout Cookies or Sour Diesel, though. I don’t want his brain melting out of his ears.” 

Jimin makes a slight noise of surprise at that. 

“Kidding,” Yoongi teases. “Well, about the brain-melting part. I mean it about the strains, though.” 

Leaving your joint in an ashtray on the coffee table, you stand up with a groan. Moving is low on your list of things to do right now. The indica you’ve been smoking makes your movements feel slow, though you can’t tell if they actually are. 

“Come on,” you mumble, gesturing for him to follow you down the hall. He goes without a word, eyes wide as if he’s about to discover something profound within the walls of your apartment. You don’t want to admit how cute he is, just as timid in your apartment as in class. 

“We keep everything in the office. It’s super organized, but I guess that’s expected.” You don’t know why you’re rambling (yes, you do, it’s the weed). 

Jimin nods. “Makes sense.” 

He’s so cute, you think, when he asks if he wants you to close the door once you’ve reached the office. As if there is something to hide in here. Hoseok and Yoongi are the only other people in the apartment. 

“I’m going to give you a hybrid. You know what that means?” 

Jimin hovers over you when you crouch next to a dresser with multiple drawers. Numerous glass jars, all labeled with pieces of white tape and messy handwriting, are stacked in the drawer you open. You sift through them, taking a few to inspect before placing them back again. 

“I do not.” At least he’s honest. 

“It’s the happy medium between sativa and indica. Sativa gives you a head high. People tend to feel alert and creative sometimes. Indica gives you a body high. It’s the stereotypical kind of weed people talk about that makes you lazy and get the munchies. It’s because sativa has more THC than CBD, whereas indica is more CBD-heavy. Think about how people use CBD products when they’ve got joint pains or anxiety, right?” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” The statement is redundant, but you don’t mention it. Jimin looks like he hangs onto your every word as though his life depends on it. It’s funny, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at him.

Finding what you’re looking for, you hand a jar to Jimin. “It’s already weighed, so you can take the whole thing.” 

Jimin holds the jar like it’s a newborn. This time, you let a few giggles slip out. 

“Do you have something to smoke it with? A piece or a bong?” 

A shake of his head is no surprise, but you act shocked because you’re high and feeling good, and you love how he looks when his eyes grow wide.

“Wow, you’re so cute,” you say with a grin that starkly opposes the shy blush that paints Jimin’s face. “You probably don’t know how to roll either, do you?” 

Another shake of his head. Of course. 

It’s not difficult to show Jimin how. You pull up another chair at your desk and push away all your notes and textbooks for school to clear a path to work. You show him how to grind the weed and roll a blunt and a joint — so he can figure out which one he likes better. 

Jimin’s body is warm as he presses against yours, your shoulders bumping into each other every time you move your arm. He keeps close, eyes glued to your hands as you work slowly but diligently. It’s a bit disarming having him so close. Aside from the occasional hello during class, you’ve never really talked to Jimin. Concentrating with all his Pretty Boy energy fogging up your mind is tricky. 

Or is it the weed? Nah, it’s the weed. 

“If you end up not liking either, go to a head shop to buy a bowl — it’s a pipe. Maybe don’t go with a bong yet. Yoongi can help you. He likes bowls better, so he’ll have good recommendations.” 

Once finished, you slip the blunts and joints into a ziplock bag. When you pass it to Jimin, you can’t help but let your fingers brush against his. The touch sends waves of hot electricity up your arm. The shock of it makes your entire body tingle. Sure, the weed is making your body extra sensitive, but it’s not only that. He’s so fucking hot. 

You don’t realize you’re staring at him. It’s hard not to stare or even know where to begin. His plush, pillowy lips? His fluffy, dirty-blonde hair that falls into his eyes? So cute that you don’t even care when he has to do a Bieber flip to get his bangs out of his face? 

And, fuck, he’s not wearing the usual crisp white Oxford shirt and black chinos get-up. He must have gone home to change after class because now he’s wearing a form-fitting black t-shirt (probably designer from the looks of it) and grey jogger sweatpants that do nothing to hide how thick his thighs are and you’re sure if you get a chance to look at his ass you’ll find that that part of his body is thick, too. Expensive athleisure wear looks even better on him than professional clothing. It makes him look soft. 

“Thank you,” Jimin says, speaking your name softly, and you feel like your knees grow weak at the sound of it tumbling from lips like those. “I’m sorry, I feel like I barged in here and took up your time. Not knowing anything… I’m sure you’re used to people with more knowledge than I do.” 

Shaking your head, you guide Jimin out of the office and lock it behind you. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?” 

It’s funny that he’s concerned about something like this, as if marijuana knowledge is so embarrassing not to have. 

When you turn around, you realize the two of you are standing way too close. Your apartment isn’t a shoebox, but it certainly isn’t large. The hallway is slim, and Hoseok has a million and one plants and decorative furniture scattered around for the “aesthetic,” which makes it even harder to navigate tight spaces. 

You’re not complaining, though. This close, you can see that Jimin is wearing contacts that make his eyes hazel, little flecks of orangish-brown highlighting his naturally dark irises. 

Jimin’s eyes drop to your lips, and you feel your stomach drop along with them. Even though you’re not touching each other, your skin tingles with the knowledge that you could be touching. He’s so close. All it would take is one tiny shuffle forward, and you could slot yourself against his nimble — but what you assume is a very solid — frame. 

“Yeah,” he speaks as he releases a soft exhale. You feel his warmth and shudder. “Thank you, still.”

“No problem,” you whisper. 

Jimin’s tongue darts out to run across his bottom lip. His teeth draw it in slightly, and when he lets go, you can see how his lip bounces back into place. 

Dragging your eyes back to meet his takes an embarrassing amount of effort. He’s finally looking at your eyes, too, with an expression you don’t understand because you don’t really know him. 

“How much do I owe you?”

Right. Because he’s here with Yoongi for a reason. You swallow, turning your head to the side to hopefully break whatever spell Jimin and weed have put you under. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Jimin inhales sharply, but you keep your eyes down. “I must pay you something. I don’t know what’s a standard amount.” 

If you were anyone else, you could honestly rip him off. The guy has no clue — he is even admitting that he doesn’t! But there are embers smoldering in the pit of your stomach. 

“Nope,” you say with a tone of finality. You can hardly think before your following words slip out of your mouth like snakes. “Pretty Boys get weed free of charge.” 

“W-w-what?” Jimin looks unbearably cute when he’s confused. It’s almost too much for you to handle. 

So you don’t. 

Without another word, you head back to the living room. Jimin follows silently. You’re sure his face is still painted with shock because Yoongi gives the two of you an odd look. 

“Right where I left you,” you tease.

Untangling his limbs from Hoseok’s, Yoongi lets out an old man grunt and stands. You hadn’t believed him when he said he wouldn’t be staying, but it’s clear that he’s sticking to his promise when he starts patting down his legs to make sure he has his keys. 

“Got what you need, Chim?” 

Chim? How close are Yoongi and Jimin? And why are you only now learning of this friendship? 

Jimin nods, his bottom lip between his teeth once again. He insists that you’ve been a great help to him, all while keeping his eyes locked with yours. It’s so different than his shy avoidance in class. 

“Don’t worry, Yoong,” you insist as you plop back on the couch. Your joint is patiently waiting for you. “I took good care of him.” 

You’ve never been very good at math, but it doesn’t take a mathematician to know that Pretty Boy Jimin ends up costing you hundreds of dollars as the semester progresses. 

All your peers will walk away from law school making six figures easily. But not you. You just had to give a shit about the world, didn’t you? You just had to pick an area of law that values protecting human rights over making a profit. 

God, being a good person is so hard! 

And now, Park Jimin is sucking you dry before you can even earn money. Every time his fat little ass sashays away from your apartment with another jar of free weed, you can practically hear the chime of money signs ringing out with each step. 

There’s a worse feeling, though. It hadn’t occurred to you until now, as you stand in the entranceway of Jimin’s apartment unit, your backpack carrying precious cargo inside slung over one shoulder. 

Allowing Jimin to walk out of your apartment with the Pretty Boy Discount of free marijuana hurts your pocket, but doing a free weed delivery is even more pathetic. You’re wasting your own time and gas money to drive to Park Jimin’s motherfucking apartment to deliver him weed that you aren’t even going to charge him for simply because he’s hot. 

Maybe this is the terrible consequence of abstaining from sex to “focus on school” — as if smoking weed with Hoseok all day isn’t a distraction. But, on the other hand, maybe you just need to get laid. 

Dipping on this commitment would be easy, you think as you bounce on the balls of your feet. You could leave right now before Jimin answers the door, ask Hoseok to handle Jimin’s future requests, and put all of this behind you. But, of course, the entire situation is ridiculous anyway. You don’t even know Jimin. Not really. 

There’s a clicking sound from the other side of Jimin’s front door. Logically, you know it’s the sound of him unlocking the door, but your nerves tell you it’s the sound of your fate being locked into place. It may as well be because Jimin opens the door with a smile that puffs up his cheeks, his hair looks damp, and he smells like body wash. 

Fuck. 

“Hi!” His voice squeaks, but a deep cough returns it to a normal tone. “I mean, uh, I appreciate you coming by.” 

Your tongue presses into your cheek as you regard him for a moment. He might consider your silence as negative because he quickly sidesteps to allow you into his apartment. 

You give Jimin a smirk. “I think you should at least give me a tip.” 

“O-oh, I mean… oh, um,” he stutters, and you can’t help but laugh. 

A rush of air escapes your nostrils in a low-energy, nearly silent laugh. While coming to Jimin’s place might seem like a lot of effort, the truth is that you’re bored, and lately, you’ve been seeking anything to get your mind off the loneliness you feel when your apartment is dark and Hoseok is with Yoongi. 

So, even though part of you chastises yourself, you’re willing to risk looking pathetic or desperate if it means you can have someone to smoke with and get some time away from your too-quiet apartment. Not because Jimin is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

Jimin’s pretty eyes widen, and you quickly wave your hand to brush off his sudden panic. 

“I’m kidding,” you confess as you twist your backpack around your body to pull out a small glass mason jar. It’s cute how concerned he is. 

No, not cute. Naive. You shake yourself out of the feeling. 

”Well, come on then.” You walk through Jimin’s apartment into the living room. It’s your first time making a delivery with him, so you’ve never been to his apartment. Yet you walk through the building with unearned familiarity. You’ve got manners; sometimes, you choose not to use them.

“How have you and Hoseok been?” 

“Prepping for finals. And that fucking oral argument Kim’s got us doing,” you groan. School talk wasn’t something you had in mind when you showed up, but in the months you’ve spent getting to know Jimin more, you’ve learned he’s a total nerd. He’s probably excited about the assessment. 

“Sometimes I think he’s trying to kill us,” Jimin says with a slight grin. “Is it ethical, moral, or legal to terrify your students to the point of throwing up before evaluations?” 

“Don’t tease Yoongi like that! You know he has public speaking anxiety!” 

Jimin does a little half-skip to avoid your attempt to slap his chest. Although you know the both of you are drowning in student loans and law school tuition fees, the apartment is much nicer than expected. You wonder if Jimin has a roommate. He’s never mentioned one before.  

“Don’t tell him, or he’ll beat me up.” 

Eyerolls aren’t a commitment to anything, but you know Jimin knows you wouldn’t dare repeat his words. 

Plopping onto his couch, you scoot the coffee table between your knees and set the jar down. Beside the jar, you place everything you need to roll for Jimin, including a grinder and swishers. You could have rolled it all in advance, but you don’t like to feel rushed. Prepping is the best part. It relaxes you.

Jimin slowly slides into place beside you on the couch. He leaves enough room between the two of you to be respectful, although something tells you it’s less about his desire to make you feel comfortable and more about his discomfort. 

He’s nervous, but you don’t know why. He keeps dragging his palms against his thighs, roughly rubbing his jeans. Every once in a while, he lifts his hand to touch his bottom lip. Then, when you sneak a glance at him, he quickly turns away. There’s nothing of note to look at in the apartment, but he seems engrossed in something for those fleeting moments before you’re sure he’s looking at you once again. 

“I should probably learn how to do this… Like, properly… I can’t remember everything you did the first time,” Jimin mumbles. When you look up, his cheeks are dusted a light pink. 

“Sorry, I probably went too fast that time.” You give him an apologetic look that makes his face redden even more. “It’s not as hard as people make it out to be. Just need a good teacher.” 

If Jimin expects you to be his teacher again, he doesn’t say so. You could be. You can’t stop yourself from giving the guy free weed; you might as well add comprehensive rolling lessons in the mix. 

By this point, rolling a blunt is about muscle memory; you don’t have to use an ounce of brainpower. Your eyes can wander, sweep over the contents of Jimin’s living room, your thoughts floating off to wonder about the little details of the man’s life you aren’t privy to. Who are his friends? Where is his family? You look for photographs on shelves or hanging on the walls, items that are a staple in your and Hoseok’s apartment. Would Yoongi be in any of his photos? So many people in the city come in like ghosts.

“Do you, um, would you like to stay?” 

Jimin’s voice pulls you back to the living room, where your hands have already finished two blunts without you realizing it. 

“Isn’t that what you meant when you said I could smoke with you?” You question around the blunt you’ve brought between your lips, pausing to light it.

Jimin shakes his head, not as an answer to your question, but to himself. “Yes, of course.” 

“You wanna share this or smoke your own?“ You can keep working on rolling the rest in the meantime.

Rather than answer your question verbally, Jimin does something that makes your heart fall into the pit of your fucking stomach. The supposedly shy, naive man parts his lips and juts his chin toward you. 

The meaning behind his action hits you in the chest immediately. You let your eyes drift over his mouth, and you try not to react when his tongue swipes across his bottom lip while he patiently waits for you to give him what he wants. And you’re gonna do it, too. No questions asked. 

Pinching the blunt between your middle finger and thumb, you twist on the couch to face Jimin with your legs tucked beneath you. Of course, if your fingertips brush against his lips when you place the blunt between them, that’s no one’s business, and you fucking plead the fifth, thanks. 

Jimin’s eyes never leave yours when he wraps his lips around the blunt and inhales. He takes the hit like a champ, not coughing once despite the smoke’s thickness when he exhales. It’s been a few months since he started coming to you for weed. You shouldn’t be proud of his improvement, but you are anyway. Even if it’s weird to be. 

“Thanks.” Jimin looks like a droopy-eyed dragon, eyes heavy and narrow when he expresses his appreciation. His voice is low and thick, and it makes your stomach swoop. 

You nod your head and take the blunt from him. “No problem.” 

Time is hardly discernible in normal circumstances for you, especially when you’re high. So you can’t imagine how long you sit with Jimin on his couch, watching smoke billow in the air and talking about how unfortunate it is that Frank Ocean and Rihanna ghosted the music industry. 

For a while, the two of you fall silent. You lean your head against the couch and close your eyes, content with listening to the music Jimin put on until another thought enters your mind. One you can’t bring yourself to ignore.  

“You ever fucked while you’re high?” 

You ask the question once you and Jimin have finished the first blunt and move on to the second. The lighter you’re using is hot pink with blue and purple flowers printed on it. Something feels fitting about that. 

The question takes you by surprise even though you’re the one asking it, unsure why you’re asking it aside from knowing the weed will make you more likely to speak your mind. Jimin, though. The poor guy is even more startled. As he should be, you think. 

His hand trembles slightly when he passes you the blunt when it’s your turn to take a hit. “Uhh, um, have I— what?” 

You roll your eyes and blow a smoke ring in Jimin’s direction. You wait for his coughing to subside before you repeat yourself. 

“Have you ever had sex while under the influence of marijuana, Jimin-ssi?”

“No…” 

“Hmm, you should. It’s really fun. Feels good.” 

“Oh.” 

“Do you wanna try it now?” 

It’s comical how Jimin gulps, literally gulps, like a fucking cartoon character. “Now?” 

Marijuana is an aphrodisiac. It won’t make Jimin want you, but it’s clear from his suggestive behavior that he already does. The weed will simply, hopefully, make him less nervous about it. 

You pretend you don’t notice how he shifts to press his thighs together on the couch. 

“Come on,” you encourage him. “Stop thinking so much.” 

You know you’re too forward and sudden, but it feels justified because you’ve been thinking about Jimin for months. The buildup over the past few months has been stifling. 

Giving consent is what finally unlocks something in Jimin. One moment he’s staring at you with wide, timid eyes; the next, he’s got his hand around your throat. 

With a light squeeze, Jimin pulls you into him to slot his lips with yours. Holding back a moan is nearly impossible when his tongue pries your lips open. It’s wet and hot, and your skin tingles when you taste the smoke on him when his tongue curls around your own. Smoking always makes you feel warm, but you feel like you’re on fire when Jimin whimpers into your mouth. His pace is unrelenting. You feel like you’re tripping over yourself as you attempt to keep up with the quick work of his lips. The effort has you practically straddling his lap. 

Tightening his grip on your throat, Jimin uses it to tilt you how he wants you. A pleased hum vibrates against your mouth when he hears you moan from the pressure of his fingers digging into the soft skin of your neck. It’s only when you start to get lightheaded, and your lips slow that Jimin finally pulls away. 

His eyes’ heavy, sensual look remains, but you’re surprised to find his slick lips forced into a frown. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You could ask why, but you assume Jimin’s forwardness isn’t typical behavior. The good thing is that it is for you.

Rather than address the unnecessary tension, you let your lips do all the work and pull Jimin in for another ruthless kiss. 

“I don’t wanna hear any apologies from you,” you murmur against his mouth. “The only thing I want your lips doing is eating me out.” 

Jimin lets out a high-pitched whine that sets something dangerous off, buzzing through your body. “Please.” 

Maybe you’re pathetic with how quickly you strip yourself of your clothes, but Jimin doesn’t seem to care. His eyes never leave your body as you toss the clothing onto the floor. “You’re so beautiful…” 

“Yeah?” You lean with your back against the arm of the couch, scooting down slightly so you can let your legs fall open. 

He nods sharply and is silent momentarily as he rubs his palms down the length of your legs, settling between them. 

"I’ve always wanted to talk to you,” Jimin speaks with a hushed tone. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I just get nervous. I’m sure that seems pretty lame." 

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Every touch sends goosebumps pebbling across your skin. It’s exhilarating. You feel like your entire body is a hot wire, sparking and buzzing at a dangerous frequency. 

"Yoongi said this would be a good way for us to get to know each other. The weed, not this this!” It’s shocking to you how adorable he can be at the same time he sucks the skin of your inner thigh into his mouth, swirling his tongue around after biting down hard enough to make you gasp. 

Your head falls back as you feel the tip of Jimin’s tongue drags along your clit. He swirls it around, drawing small circles in a steady rhythm. Every time his tongue pulls back, you can hear a soft smacking sound of his lips. He’s likely swallowing the drool collecting in his mouth. You’re sure he’s probably getting a bad case of cotton mouth from the excessive sound. 

It makes you smile knowing he’s that sensitive. It takes much more weed in your system to start feeling dry in the mouth, but you’ve been smoking more years than Jimin and at a higher frequency. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan out a misshapen puff of smoke when Jimin’s tongue returns to your clit. 

This time he wraps his plush lips around it and suckles lightly, using his tongue to flick from side to side. His little grunts and moans make your pussy vibrate, sending a tingling sensation through the inside of your thighs and down to your toes. 

Your hand shakes as you bring the blunt back to your lips. A whine tries to break through, but you force it back down your throat as you inhale more smoke. It’s hard when your body feels like it’s burning up. 

Every gentle touch of Jimin’s lips and tongue on your skin feels like a punch to your stomach in a way that is so deliriously delicious you can hardly take it. Wetness drips down your pussy and smears against your thighs, either from your arousal or Jimin’s drool or both, but you don’t care how messy it is when Jimin pulls back enough to spit more onto your clit. 

You let out a surprised sound, lifting your head slightly to see a string of saliva connect Jimin’s pouty bottom lip with your skin. 

Fuck, you didn’t think Pretty Boy had it in him. 

Using two fingers, Jimin spreads his spit around your clit, pushing it down until he slides into your pussy with ease. You didn’t need the extra lubrication, but you groan at the wet sound that echoes through Jimin’s apartment as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you. He brings his lips back to your clit, sucking harder and massaging your skin with his tongue even faster to match the pace his fingers take. 

When he finally locates the spot that makes your legs shake, hitting it repeatedly, you dig your fingers into his fluffy hair and yank his head back. 

“H-h-here,” you stutter, pressing the blunt against his lips. They’re shiny, and the idea of sticking a wet blunt between your lips makes you want to cringe, but you don’t care because his lips are shiny with you. 

Jimin doesn’t stop thrusting into you, but his pace slows as he concentrates on taking another hit. 

“I’m so fucking hard,” he groans. With the blunt between his lips, Jimin’s hands fly to unbutton his jeans. Another groan sounds around the blunt once he’s freed himself of the retraining pants. 

You let out a quiet sigh as you try to collect yourself while Jimin smokes. “I told you it feels good. It’s different, isn’t it?” 

“Mhmm…”

There’s a large wet patch staining the front of Jimin’s briefs. It makes the fabric stick to his cock, clearly outlining his length and girth — big enough to make you drool but small enough that you won’t go home sore and regretful. 

“Lemme ride you.” You use your free hand to push Jimin into the back of the couch. He plants his feet on the floor and spreads his thighs as you get comfortable in his lap. “Wanna smoke the rest while we fuck.” 

Your head is in the clouds, your body melting like butter as Jimin skirts his hands along your sides. He eventually pauses to squeeze your hips, and you swear you can feel him all over you. 

It’s quick work, tugging down the final article of clothing separating the two of you. It’s hard not to stare, especially when Jimin twitches and shivers with every light touch of your fingertips along the ridges and veins of his cock. 

Your clit drags against the head of his cock when you adjust in his lap, and you let out a ragged moan. 

“Soaked,” Jimin murmurs, “You’ve got me all wet.” 

It’s true. Jimin’s thighs glisten from where you’ve leaked all over him. Your clit throbs so much it’s beginning to hurt from the sensitivity. 

“Condom,” you practically wheeze out. “If you go in raw, you’re probably gonna bust a nut immediately, and I’m not interested in that for many reasons.” 

Jimin’s face turns even pinker. 

“O-okay, give me a second, please.” So fucking polite, and for what? 

He holds you at the base of your spine with one hand as he leans forward to snatch his jeans with his other hand. There’s a condom in his wallet, so you assume your classmate isn’t all innocent. 

It’s quick work rolling the condom on. Uninterested in teasing yourself further because you feel like you’ll die if you don’t orgasm soon, you push Jimin hard against the back of the couch. You slip down his cock with ease, with no stretch or sting, from how turned on you are. 

“I feel like I’m already gonna come.” Jimin throws his head back against the couch. 

His lips fall open, and you quickly snatch the blunt from them so it doesn’t fall and burn one of you. He looks beautiful, angelic even. His lips are puffy and pink, his cute little mismatched front teeth peeking out. His tongue flicks around his mouth as his breathing grows heavier. 

You squeeze one of his shoulders with your free hand while your other keeps the blunt pinched to your lips. As you take a drag, you lift your hips and quickly bring them back down, your ass slapping Jimin’s thighs as you engulf his cock again. Your skin sounds wet and sticky, but Jimin’s whine drowns out the sound. 

“Shit,” he hisses. Blunt nails dig into your skin, but it doesn’t hurt; it only feels good. Everything feels so good. 

You hardly notice how hard you shake as you slam yourself down on Jimins’ cock again. Your head is too spacey to go fast, but you do your best to set a steady pace of bouncing on Jimin’s cock. It doesn’t matter if he’s already going to come. You feel your orgasm building up with every squeeze of his fingers and the pathetic moans from his mouth. 

You lean forward to latch your lips to the base of Jimin’s neck when he again drops his head. Pulling the skin into your mouth, you suck hard. You know the shock the discomfort will send across his body, pain that quickly morphs into pleasure and makes his cock twitch inside you. 

“Jesus Christ.” Jimin reaches up to brush his bangs away from his eyes. Sweat makes the hair remain in place, pushed up, making him look as wrecked as he sounds. His cheeks are bright red now, and the color bleeds down his neck, where you’re sure his chest is bright red, too. 

Fuck, why didn’t you take off his shirt? It feels like a quick and dirty fuck, although you’re not sure you want it to be. You’re unsure what you want this to be or mean. Or how you want it to feel. 

All you know is that you feel like you’ll come at the sight of Jimin’s toned stomach and chest when you pull the hem of his shirt up to bunch it right above his nipples. 

Holding onto the fabric gives you more leverage to pick up your pace. It’s needed because Jimin is a puddle beneath you. His arms are tossed to his slides like they’re made out of rubber, flopped onto the couch cushions. He can barely lift his hips. He only makes a few weak attempts to thrust into you before he’s whining again, head lolled to the side with furrowed eyebrows. He looks so fucked out. 

“Please, ahh, fuck, please,” Jimin begs, though you’re not sure for what. 

“Wanna come, pretty boy?” You squeeze his t-shirt harder and yank it slightly, just enough to pull Jimin’s back a few inches from the couch. “You’re gonna have to work harder. I already gave you so much.” 

Jimin’s eyes roll in pleasure when you clench around him, little “oh’s” and “ah’s” punched out of him. “Okay, yes, yes, fuck, yes, I’ll be soooo—”

You bring his hands back to your waist as he babbles. The contact must give him a bit of clarity because he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and begins to thrust into you hard. 

“I’ll. Be. So. Fucking. Good.” Every word is punctuated by a mind-shattering thrust as Jimin pulls you down onto his cock. 

If you were on the edge before, you’re falling by the time he picks up the pace and thrusts into you even harder. The buildup was long and hot, yet your orgasm hits you so hard it might as well have been a surprise. 

You curl into yourself and press your face into the crook of Jimin’s neck while he continues his unforgiving rhythm until he comes with a choked-out moan of your name. 

The silence should be uncomfortable. How awkward and irrational was it to simply… tell Jimin that you wanted to fuck? And for Jimin to go along with it? Casual hookups aren’t really your thing. Pretty Boy Jimin seems to be the exception for everything, though. 

Heavy breathing fills the silence as the two of you try to calm down, your chests rising and falling in tandem. It’s comforting to lean all your weight on Jimin, despite how his bunched-up t-shirt presses uncomfortably into your chest. Even the feeling of his cock softening inside of you doesn’t bother you any. 

At some point, Jimin had placed the blunt in the ashtray on the coffee table. It’s shocking that he had the mind to do so; you would have accidentally burned a hole into his comfy, expensive-looking couch. It’s a good thing you had the mind to use a condom. Imagine burn marks and cum stains. Sheesh. 

The kiss Jimin presses to your temple when he turns his head feels way more domestic than you deserve. You smile, teeth pressed against his skin, despite yourself. You can blame the giddiness you feel on the weed, and not whatever Pretty Boy Jimin has done to trigger warmth inside your chest. 

“I think I gave you more than the tip…” 

With narrowed eyes, you lift your head from Jimin’s neck to look him square in the face so quickly that you’re worried you might pull a muscle in your neck. “You’re not fucking funny.” 

Jimin lets his head fall back to laugh hard enough that his eyes squeeze shut. It’s so endearing that you overlook such a bad joke. Pretty Boy Jimin seems to get away with a lot. You don’t mind it as much as you act like you do. 

[starboy-97]

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jimin would want to be near you at any given moment. he wants nothing more than for you to be in his space, or him be in yours.

he'd come home, zeroing in on you on the sofa, making a beeline to throw all of his bodyweight onto you, smothering you with affection. not that you would mind, it's sweet to feel that love from him every day. his body surrounding yours, the warmth of him enveloping your being, was the ultimate reset for your mood. pecking your face repeatedly until you're giggling, rolling to the side, holding you against him once he's had his fill. he'd ask about your day, stroking your hair as you fill him in on your workplace drama.

you'd put on a show, settling in for the night, comfortable together, as close as you could possibly be. no matter what happens during the day, you know that your evenings with jimin will always heal you.

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[blackberrywonie]

I can't wait to find out what the others will be like with her, I'm excited to see how they interact.

Moondir - 02

Pairing | moondir!OT7 x human!Reader

Word Count | 4,6k

Warnings | +18, blood draw, talk about forced pregnancy, mention of multiple partners, noncon kiss, angst, fear and psychological pressure, a strange bond MC feels with Hoseok (predator/prey relationship), this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | The Moondir, born of the Moon Goddess' love for a wolf, were persecuted and enslaved by humans for merely existing. Moondirian women have been captured and killed in the most heinous ways, men have instead been forced to do dangerous work in place of the humans themselves, and after more than a century, this has virtually brought their race to the brink of extinction. A group of Moondirian rebels have succeeded in their quest to regain their freedom, and not without the use of the crudest violence. Their females are now gone, and it will be human women who will help them repopulate the world.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! ❤️ Here is the second chapter of Moondir, I hope you enjoy it! 🥰 I put my whole self into writing this chapter, imagining and structuring the future relationships between MC and the seven, here you have a little taste of it with Hoseok! Let me know what you think, I love your comments! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 I love you 💜

Taglist is open: @katherine-kookie - @btsuga-d - @pantara - @angelicsmilesworld - @lennieharper - @takemeaway5402 - @jiminismine4ever - @m00njinnie - @ke1k029 - @velvet-stardust2002 - @darkuni63 - @douknowbts - @aiiselle90210 - @fewercascade - @mageprincess7 - @get-that-brain-working - @whipwhoops - @dragons-flare - @seokjins-luigi - @pjmsneverland - @jimincrystal - @ajkwww - @ungodlyjoon - @hecateslittlewitchling - @namjoonsbuspass - @xicanacorpse - @btssimplove - @antisocial-mochi267 - @reallygenerouskoala - @dabishou - @themwordsblog - @deluluisme - @justanarchiveforfics - @blackberrywonie - @the-holy-hobi - @justlikecrazy - @herareila - @furioustrashlover - @mar-lo-pap - @dachshunddame - @pantaral81 - @withmuchluv-tannie - @calmyourtitts7 - @plushjeno - @rafesbunniebby - @rms-expensive-girl - @polnaraffsrack - @rg2108 - @paramedicnerd004 - @jungshaking - @ane102 - @moonstarw

Main List - 01 - 02

You gaze in clear amazement at the procreation center, the city's most modern hospital has been used as a base, you have never had the privilege of stepping foot in it in the past, and to think that you will enter it now because you are forced to does upset you in no small measure.

Hoseok, at your side, holds you in a firm, icy grip, looks ahead, and the grin of a few hours earlier has disappeared from his face. The green gem of his eyes has been swallowed by a dark shadow, and no one dares to approach you or him. Everyone in there seems to keep away, all armed men and all very guarded, just peering at you as if you were a juicy steak. You and Hoseok walk past the marbled lobby to enter the medical area without first asking a secretary. Simply because - just like in Seokjin's hospital - there are no secretaries. And frankly, Hoseok also seems all too sure; this is certainly not the first time he has walked the corridors of this huge hospital.

“Is this something you do often? Bring women here, I mean?” you ask in a low voice, narrowly catching his attention.

“Mh. Let's just say that thanks to my rank I can afford to do that, if I had been an ordinary soldier, those guys out there probably would have jumped on you without much fuss,” he snorts, annoyed.

You don't dare ask any more; it's clear as day that if he could, this man would join the party along with the others.

The further you go into the hospital, the more the cold architectural lines make your hair stand on end, as do the men in suits you see darting from room to room with medical masks over their faces and long white lab coats fluttering here and there. Not a shadow of a woman so far, could it be that humans have really exterminated all Moondirians women? Is there not a single one left?

A door opens in front of you automatically and a pungent smell of disinfectant makes your nose wrinkle. You are tired of disinfectant and hospitals. Will you be forced to stay there? And for how long?

“Just come in quietly, little flower,” Hoseok points you to a smaller, powder-pink door, ‘I've had enough of women screaming and crying at the sight of a tiny needle; so, don't piss me off,’ he intimates dangerously, opening the door and pushing you in unceremoniously, as he is used to doing such things by now.

Inside, it is just like Kim Seokjin's studio, the only difference being the lack of a table with stirrups, replaced instead by a long, shiny, clean, white table with a sealed container of empty, shiny test tubes ready on top. The walls blind you with their whiteness; everything is tremendously aseptic and impersonal.

You are about to feel sick, and perhaps, just noticing your new, bad complexion, Hoseok pushes you abruptly toward the chair.

“You haven't even seen the needle yet,” he teases you, regaining some of the amusement he dared not show in front of other soldiers. In a way, Hoseok seems to have two completely different personalities, and you don't know which one scares you more.

The sadist who loves to have fun or the soldier who fears no one?

Either way, Hoseok seems to be in control of the whole situation.

“Oh, good. You brought a new one,” a well-placed man enters the room; he's as big as a closet, but his expression is softened by small round black glasses, his forest green eyes following you like a scanner.

“Seokjin gave me these,” Hoseok says, tossing papers on the doctor's desk about you and your exam, the big man nods before smiling at you a little.

“All right, dear, I'm Oliver Smith,” he introduces himself cordially, ”I'm the ugly wolf who's going to take samples of your blood.”

You look at him a little upset, why would a Moondirian approach you in such a kind way? Hoseok looks annoyed, too.

“Give it a rest, Olly,” he grumbles, but Oliver shakes his head.

“Don't mind Hoseok, he's the big bad wolf, but as long as I'm around he can only grumble.”

“I don't think I understand, what do you need my blood for?”

“Good question, girl,” nods Oliver, “Your blood will help us figure out which male you will be compatible with. We have a huge list of males suitable for mating, but you are human and clearly in order to sire a pup you will need the right male. A match, in short.”

You look at him wordlessly, you thought you were going to be thrown to all the soldiers in the breeding center, the image Yoongi gave you is this. Instead it all seems quite controlled.

“I guess I can't refuse,” you state grimly, Hoseok snorts through his nose in yet another irritating scowl. Oliver gives him a glare.

“No, you can't refuse, it's for the good of our species” Oliver checks the opening page of that pile of papers before turning back to look at you, “Y/N. But you must know that we have everything under control, no harm will come to you, unlike others-” and here you see him glowering at Hoseok again, “We understand that you girls didn't have much say about the events that happened a hundred years ago.”

You don't trust Oliver, even though he has been more helpful and kind than Hoseok, but you do nothing when he gently holds your arm to tighten a tourniquet around it, you shudder at the feel of alcohol-soaked gauze disinfecting your skin.

An invisible grip forces you to look for Hoseok; he is staring at you. His green eyes are lighter and mottled, like pure jade, but his expression betrays no emotion. He looks like a statue. You hardly notice the vials filling with your dark, vermilion blood as Dr. Oliver continues with the blood drawing.

You feel weaker and maybe even pale, your head is heavy and empty at the same time, shit, how you hate doctors and hospitals....

Oliver barely has time to remove your tourniquet to apply a band-aid before you slump into the chair, unconscious.

Oliver looks at you with pity, “She endured a lot in one day, she didn't even scream,” he notes with a certain amount of surprise, making Hoseok sneer.

“Don't be so impressed, she just did her duty, she knows her place,” he murmurs colorlessly, before approaching you. He lifts you from the chair without even an effort, and Oliver sighs.

“Set her up in one of the private rooms, we'll keep her monitored until the test results come back with the compatible male.”

You recover slightly, but you don't dare open your eyes again, fearing to anger Hoseok, who is holding you in his arms rather stiffly. The material of his uniform smells of cedar and sea, but it is rough enough that you are not tempted to rub against his chest to get some rest.

“I hope they get a move on in the lab, I can't wait to send her as far away from here as possible,” he blurts, you trying hard not to let them know you're awake, but you can't stop the trembling of your lips. So you won't stay at the procreation center, you'll be sent who knows where!

“What's the matter, Sergeant...is the girl making you nervous?” taunts Oliver with a smirk, Hoseok shushing him with a sour look.

“You said it right, I'm a Sergeant. Nothing and no one can make me nervous, got it?”

Your heart is beating so fast that even your chest is moving back and forth, trying to hold it in your rib cage, with that you are now certain that Hoseok has noticed you are awake, however, he does not say a word about it. He prefers to ignore you as he walks out through the blinding hallway. And you find it hard to admit that his grip on your body is so firm that you sense he will never let you fall. You can't even remember the last time someone carried you around like this, maybe your father when you were a child?

You bite your lip, chasing away that thought, your father is now dead, and for his and many others' actions you will pay with your womb for what they did to the wolves of Moondir.

Two days pass before anyone deigns to bring you news about your near future. Until then you have been monitored nonstop by two doctors with unfamiliar faces, in a room so sterile and empty it seems at times macabre, you feel like you are in a horror movie with the only difference being that you are really living in a nightmare.

You lower your gaze to the IV attached to your arm, you are not sick, but they said they want to make sure you are well hydrated and strong for what you will face out there, they are feeding your body with something necessary for your future sexual relations. You don't know what it is, and you admit that you cried like a little girl after Hoseok left you in this room, walking away without so much as a word, as if he was tired of looking after you. You never saw him or Seokjin again.

The only positive note is that you did not see Yoongi again either.

But you don't regret the times when you treated him like a human being when he still lived in your house. You never acted superior toward him, although that certainly didn't help you. You can't really believe that in the past you were like this-.

A soft knock on the door brings you back to reality, distracting you from your alarming thoughts - were you really thinking about that after all he did to you?

Oliver's blank expression makes you frown, usually he brings your daily results with a smile, now he looks strange.

“Hello, Y/N” he greets you, "How are you feeling today?" he asks every day.

“I'm fine, doctor,” you reply as usual, watching him nod with papers in his hands.

“We have the results of the first exam I submitted you to,” he clearly refers to the exam regarding the compatible male.

You knew this moment would come, but you can't help but clutch the white sheets between your fingers; you're not ready to leave that new as well as fragile daily routine. You still hate hospitals, but no one there has threatened you. What will happen when you leave? Will the male treat you well?

“Y/N” Oliver calls you back frowning, "I need you to listen to me very carefully, I hold your future in my hands," he makes it clear without preamble.

“I know, I'm listening” you find yourself saying with a dry mouth.

“When you leave, you'll get one visit from me a month, I'll make sure you're okay and that you don't miss anything,” he begins in a confident tone, "But I'm not going to lie to you, something out of the ordinary has happened and I need you to be prepared psychologically.”

You open your eyes wide, “I don't understand, I'm healthy, you said so” possible that in a few days something has happened to your body? Being used at the will of a man - a wolf to be precise - doesn't make you crazy, but you also don't want to die of who knows what illness.

“You're not sick, Y/N,” the doctor tries to calm you down, ”Okay? It's not that. You've received many matches,” he spits in the end, a little worried about your reaction.

“W-what?” you stammer, ”You mean... two males?”

“No, not two.” and then the bomb, “Seven.”

No. This can't be true, there's no way you can stand that. One Moondirian is dangerous, two are unmanageable, but seven... with a startled groan you imagine what kind of death you will get. A very, very slow and painful one.

Oliver takes off his glasses, rubbing the lenses with the fabric of his lab coat, “It's shocking. Even the guys in the lab were surprised. Only once have we had more than one match with a single female, but even then it was only two compatible males. Your body, on the other hand, tested compatible with as many as seven Moondirians. We repeated the test, but the result remained the same.”

You observe him without blinking. Oliver looks surprised, but not frightened; you can see his emotions clearly now. The doctor is thrilled, though he tries not to show it to you specifically.

You will be fed to seven wolves.

“Does this mean that I will have sexual relations with all of them? What will really happen to me? It's all just too much! I am not a rag doll to be divided into seven parts!” you blurt out in panic, trying to pull the IV out, which Oliver won't allow by holding you by the wrist.

“Calm down.” he murmurs sternly, making you nauseous. Of course, everyone here thinks you're the weird one.

“You can't escape this obligation, the only alternative would be to die, and I assure you the soldiers don't go lightly.”

You know, you read in their eyes the lust and anger in them, they would not pity you.

“One of them is a doctor, I will only be able to visit you once a month, but he will make sure every day that you are fine, okay? He will also explain to you in detail what they expect from you and what you absolutely must not do,” you nod slowly, unable to say anything else. Your vision blurs and you look away from Oliver, who has meanwhile gently slipped the needle out of your arm. He stopped you from removing the IV because you would have hurt yourself, and despite this kindness you are not grateful, now you know that this man is just making sure you get to them intact. You are disgusted, you would have preferred Hoseok's direct cruelty to Oliver's false kindness.

“Get some sleep, they will come for you tonight.”

“You won't tell me anything about them? Not even how I might recognize them?” you ask angrily, but Oliver denies with his head.

“I am not allowed to talk about them, you will meet them yourself when they come for you.”

With those last words of his, he leaves the room never to return.

“Are you ready?” asks one of the doctors who assisted you in those last days spent at the center.

You cross your arms, finding it comfortable and safe in the warmth of the new sweater you were provided a few hours earlier, along with some simple jeans and sneakers. The doctor nods in satisfaction, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. From what you understand, almost all the doctors at the procreation center have vision problems, this due to a dangerous exposure in one of the many chemical factories where they were being exploited by humans.

“The car has arrived, just missing you, girl.”

It's like walking toward the gallows; the terror, the anxiety, the rising heartbeat, it's all there.

Then, in the middle of the dark and desolate street surrounding the procreation center you see it; it's Hoseok's car. Two green, disinterested eyes watch you as you drive through the front doors, accompanied by one of the doctors. Your heart skips a beat.

“She's ready, she's responded well to the treatment, just as we expected,” you hear the doctor say, Hoseok merely nodding before focusing on you again, squaring you from head to toe with an air of condescension.

“So, little flower... I'll be your Charon, aren't you excited about that?”

A strange and unsettling feeling snakes down your spine.

Could it be that-

“Are you one of the seven?” you ask point-blank, praying for a negative answer.

You see him smile in response, “Who knows...”

“You will receive a visit from Dr. Smith at least once a month, I trust you will treat this genetic prodigy well,” the doctor goes back to say.

Genetic prodigy? Obviously.

A human woman compatible with seven Moondirians is really something prodigious and valuable.

You are just a broodmare; you will be thrown away when you can no longer bring children into the world.

You enter the car with a sense of déjà-vu, the only difference being that when Hoseok reaches you, he no longer seems so cheerful.

“I prayed to the Moon Goddess, asking her to keep you away from my person, but as far as I can see, our fates have once again become entwined,” he mumbles as he puts on his seatbelt.

“I'm not so happy to see you again either,” you spit between your teeth, no longer able to hold back your irritation. The wolf snorts slightly, but then suddenly you have your chin clenched in a terribly painful grip and two green eyes glaring at you.

“A word of advice, little flower,” he blows into your face - notes of cedar and sea leave you stunned for a moment - and then resumes, ”Try to keep that attitude of yours at bay, some of them are more touchy than others, and I wouldn't advise you to upset them by being a brat.”

Maybe you've gone completely crazy, but you can't refrain from answering them again with a taunt, “Are you like them, Hoseok?”

It is like watching flames suddenly burst into flames, unable to do anything to avoid them. One moment the wolf is still holding you tight, the next he grabs you by the hair and presumptuously presses your lips against his, with a growl that silences your pitiful moan.

He is violent, invasive, his tongue penetrates your mouth hard to your throat, forcing you to gasp for air, and his sharp teeth scratch the delicate skin of your lips. The taste of blood intrudes on your entanglement of tongues and fear blinds you.

You place your hand on his chest and push him away forcefully, succeeding after no small amount of effort only because he is the one allowing you to do so, putting an end to that barbaric attack.

“What the fuck-!” you sob, shocked, barely noticing that Hoseok is quietly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform.

“Now be quiet. You are in no position to provoke or dictate, try not to piss me off, I've already told you.”

You bring your hands to your lap, lowering your eyes. With a hollow in the center of your chest and tears stuck in your throat, you realize that your first kiss was used for a cowardly display of power.

But in such a world, what is the point of preserving the first kiss? For you and many other women, sweetness or love will no longer exist, nor will the possibility of finding a faithful and loving partner.

The roar of the car became a pleasant background noise, something you listened to carefully to distract yourself from the dangerous presence at your side.

All along the way your lips tingled and pulsed, still swollen from the bites of Hoseok, who had certainly not held back. He had to punish you, and he did it in the vilest of ways; therefore, you dared not even look at him by accident since you left.

Several times, looking first at the city and then at the countryside from the window, you had the eerie desire to open the door and jump out of the running car. But you reconsidered. Whether you were dead or alive, Hoseok is a Moondirian and would have caught up with you in a very few seconds, perhaps even taking sadistic pleasure in finding you smashed on the asphalt.

It is certainly disgusting, but... you don't want to die, not yet. Even though you've wished it many times, it's not really what you want.

“We have arrived,” your Charon informs you, pointing you to a country house that is very old, but also solid enough to still stand effortlessly.

The pale stone villa stands on an expanse of undulating fields, surrounded by cypress trees and quiet wilderness. The arched windows of the house watch you sleepily as Hoseok waves you out of the car.

You take a closer look at the exterior walls of the villa, slightly cracked from the many years that have passed and who knows how many stories to tell; beyond that there is also a wooden veranda running the entire south side of the house, with empty and abandoned terracotta pots. You take steps forward, intrigued by all you are allowed to see, and you also notice the presence of an orchard, also abandoned, that extends to the edge of the woods.

“Don't get any ideas, this is an isolated house that we use as a base,” mutters Hoseok, before muttering to himself, ' 'Cause of you we'll have to live there a lot longer.'

You stiffen.

Thanks to the natural beauty of that forgotten place, you are momentarily lost in your exploration, forgetting the presence of other Moondirians.

“Don't just stand there, you might get sick,” he blurts, grabbing you by the arm, realizing that a slightly too cold breeze is making you shiver, ”You're annoying as it is, don't make it worse with your physical weakness.”

He drags you to the large dark oak front door, pulling out a set of keys probably as old as the house. With a loud click, the door creaks open, showing the antiquated, but neat and tidy interior, as if someone had recently cleaned it up.

The smell of scented candles permeates the air, leaving you surprised given its appearance - you thought you smelled dust or mold, not baked apple and cinnamon. One glance at Hoseok's more relaxed expression and you realize that a Moondirian's sense of smell would not have liked that stench of an old and neglected house.

It's ridiculous to walk alongside him, carefully observing every dark corner of the house and lightly lit only by candles; it's like watching a lamb willingly flank a wolf. Creepy.

“Have a seat, the others will be here soon,” he points to the black velvet sofa, taking off his uniform jacket himself to place it on a coat rack. The cream-colored wallpaper with small stylized flowers whispers to you that the mansion probably belonged to an elderly but well-off human couple. Perhaps they lived humbly to remain in God's grace, but perhaps they died because of Moondir's wolves.

You sit cautiously on the sofa as Hoseok pours himself a glass of brandy without deigning to offer you any, not that you would accept that unlikely show of kindness.

“Why are you assigned to me?” you ask.

Hoseok strikes you as someone who prefers to give orders, not receive them.

“You mean because I carried you around here and there? I was the only one free, the others are busy with hunting, you know... finding males of your kind and torturing them a bit,” he explains easily, making your eyes widen.

“Uh... Dr. Smith also mentioned a doctor among you,” you have to make sure, Moondirian doctors seem much quieter and more sociable than soldiers, you have to be able to make friends with him if you want to live with some dignity.

Hoseok smiles slowly, a smile that does not reach his cold eyes, “Yes... he is in charge of treating the prisoners' wounds. They can't die while we're torturing them, they have to talk, and if they die before they do, they won't be of any use at all.”

He talks about such things with a monstrous calm, as if it were absolute and perfect normalcy.

“How can you sleep at night, thinking of all the people you've hurt?” you murmur without thinking of the consequences, trapped in a reality devoid of humanity.

Hoseok leans against the wall and crosses his legs, in a more comfortable and relaxed position. He dances the brandy in the glass slowly and cautiously, losing himself in its amber hues with an absorbed air.

“It's not hard, little flower... I think back on what I've been through and their lives automatically fade into the background,” he smiles foolishly, with a maddening shadow in his gaze, “You, on the other hand, should be grateful. You are still alive and not stuck in a tangle of bodies catching fire. Many would like to be in your place.”

Hoseok's eyes twinkle slightly, then he lifts them toward you, but not to look at you. He's looking at something behind you, and a shiver of creepiness coats your skin when something intangible brushes against your ear. It is not the wind. It is too warm and intimate, a sigh.

You get up from the sofa with a scream, Hoseok immediately grabs you preventing you from escaping, holding you tightly to his side with a real laugh this time.

The crash of the glass on the floor is just a miserable detail.

A man watches you, nonchalant. His amber eyes, deep and impenetrable, are framed by thick lashes that accentuate his dark gaze, as if traced by charcoal. They remind you with a shudder of Yoongi, but he is not. There is nothing that unites the two men, apart from the strange, bulky presence. The face, angelic in appearance, is distorted by a smug expression that clutches your stomach.

How many faces does the devil possess? Because he is probably the one in front of you.

“You weren't lying when you said she was as beautiful and fragile as a flower,” he smiles with the tip of a tooth sticking out, ”Who knows how many bastards she'll help us churn out before her petals fall off completely.”

“Hold back, Taehyung... I'm sure you know the rules, our guest has to learn a few things before she can satisfy us,” Hoseok snorts, feeling you trembling against him.

“I won't do anything too invasive, I promise,” insists the new diabolical being, Taehyung.

Your instincts lead you to do something very awkward. You hide behind Hoseok, as if by now your body has gotten used to using that wolf as a shield, deluding you with some kind of protection that doesn't really exist.  You clutch the rough fabric of his uniform as if your very life depended on it, and Hoseok lets you do it, perhaps taking sadistic pleasure in seeing a prey taking refuge in her predator's embrace. You make him feel somehow chosen, something he will never admit to anyone.

“What's up with our little flower?” Taehyung asks, raising an eyebrow with amusement as he scans you from head to toe. His eyes linger on your form with an interest he doesn't try to hide. Although you are human, spending pleasant time with you will not be a disgusting experience, as he had assumed when he learned of your match. He just didn't expect that he would have to share you with his teammates as well.

“Please don't call me that,” you murmur hesitantly, finding that nickname ridiculous and embarrassing. It makes you feel like you are something useless in their eyes, nice to get but unimportant.

A flower, in fact.

“Oh, look at that, you made her angry!” Hoseok snickers, shaking his head at the other wolf. “Now apologize,” he adds with a mocking tone, grabbing your wrist with disconcerting familiarity.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he hurls you toward Taehyung.

The latter catches you mid-air, effortlessly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll apologize properly,” Taehyung murmurs, a flicker of excitement in his velvety voice. A boulder of terror plunges into your chest and a scream of anguish explodes in your throat.

[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.”

[kingofbodyrolls]

Rewriting the Threads of Fate | mini series masterlist

Co-written with @letjungcoook7 💕

In 2025, BTS disbands quietly, without a final concert or farewell. One fan—you, grieving, lost, and arching for closure—makes a wish to fix whatever went wrong. You wake up in 2011. Before the debut. Before the fame Before Jimin gave up everything. Fate gives you a chance to rewrite history, but love makes it complicated. When Jimin falls for you and considers walking away from BTS, you have to make an impossible choice: Save the band… or save the boy you thought you knew. But changing the past comes at a cost—and in the new future, you wake up married to the man who never became an idol. Now, in a reality where BTS was never seven, and love means living with regret, you have one final chance to put things right. But the heart doesn’t always listen to reason. Especially not when another member—quiet, guarded, too observant—might be the one who truly sees you. “You were never meant to be mine. But maybe… you were meant to find me.” Will you choose the dream, the boy, or yourself? A love story across timelines. A fan’s heart. A future that never was. You can’t fix everything. But maybe, just maybe… you can choose what matters most.

→ Pairing: jimin x (gender neutral) reader and yoongi x (gender neutral) reader if you squint → AUs: time travel!au, idol!au, fantasy!au,  → Trope: bias to ??? → Genres: angst, minor fluff, unrequited love, hurt/comfort, alternate timelines, fame vs love. → Rating: mature (language and sensitive subjects, but 100% SFW!) → Total word count: 24k → Warnings and triggers: angst, grief, emotional distress, mental health issues and struggles (anxiety, depression and mentions/references to suicidal thoughts and ideation), time travel, time travel paradox, time travel implications, coarse language, dissociation-like experience, self-doubt, BTS disbandment, insomnia, exhaustion, altered timelines, identity confusion, fear of failure, romantic tension, fear of abandonment, bittersweet, nostalgia, mild melancholy, protectiveness, heartbreak, conflicts, crying, relationship struggles, second chances, memory, fate, emotional breakdowns, bittersweet love, healing from afar, letting go, emotional maturity, emotional restraint, emotional pain, reference to identity and memory loss, unspoken love, rebirth, military enlistment stress and trauma, soft hope, legacy, distant love, memories of past trauma. → Read on AO3? [link]

→ Chapter 01: The Last Song → Chapter 02: Back to the Beginning → Chapter 03: You Don’t Belong Here → Chapter 04: What If You Stayed? → Chapter 05: The Moment it Shatters → Chapter 06: The Confession → Chapter 07: Fracture → Chapter 08: The Ghost of Life → Chapter 09: The Second Wish → Chapter 10: This Time, Let go → Chapter 11: The Life That Was Meant to Be → Chapter 12: Heartbeat [fin]

→ Taglist (permanent): @nora12379, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @fancypeacepersona, @ktownshizzle, @pjmxxjm, @ajoonniice, @kookiewithluv, @mikrokookiex, @rapmonjoon94, @parkitrighthere,

→ Taglist (series): @graydolan12 (you wanted to be tagged for anything Jimin if I remember correctly, otherwise I can remove you from the taglist) If you wish to be tagged for this series, just let me know in the comments!

→ Author’s endnote: what do you think of it? Ready to join me on this time travel adventure?? 🥹 and if you’re worried about all the angst—yeah, it’s a lot, but I promise it’s very beautiful. You might cry, yes, but I swear it will be a good cry! And if angst is too much for you, that’s okay, you can just skip this one. And if you don’t read anything without smut, you can find plenty of other fics out there. This story is one that me and my friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) wanted to write together, which we partially did. The plot and theme was completely her idea, and after we’ve been sitting on it for like a year, I suddenly got the inspiration to kick it off. I do hope that some, just a few of you guys out there, will find a spark in it 🥹 © @/kingofbodyrolls and @/letjungcoook7 2025 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[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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[bytemee]

hi guys, just wanted to say something really quickly. i know i said i wouldn’t talk about the karina controversy again, but i promise after this i will stop.

to start off—writers are not machines. they’re people who pour time and effort into the stories you enjoy for free.

if someone chooses to stop writing for karina that decision needs to be respected. pressuring writers, guilt-tripping them, THREATENING them or throwing tantrums because they deleted their work isn’t just childish it’s disgusting and you’re actively contributing to the exact environment that pushes creators away.

you’re not “defending” karina by harassing writers nor are you being a good fan by demanding content from people who are clearly uncomfortable.

let me be VERY very clear: nobody owes you fic. writers are allowed to set boundaries. they’re allowed to change their minds. they’re allowed to step away without explanation. that’s not up for debate.

if i see ANYONE that interacts with my blog harassing a writer for their opinion on the situation/to keep their work up, you will be blocked and i will not unblock you.

anyways, thank you. that’s all i wanted to say.

[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.

[yoongleboonglepie]

Pechsträhne Chapter 17

BTS OT7 x Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter playlist-Youtube music

Chapter Playlists-Spotify

Word Count Approx: 23k

 _________________________________________ 

A/n: Buckle in. This chapter isn't as intense as the last one-but still definitely necessary. Get your thinking caps, on y'all. The next chapter is about to get wild.

Also my being ahead lasted approximately a week and a half. Welp. It's about what I expected LMAO. Trying to get started on chapter 18 since I'll be hella busy next week.

_________________________________________ 

Recap:

“What happened with you at lunch? You almost blew our cover.” Jin clicked open the glove compartment, pulling out a small black flask and a rosary from the bottom where he had stashed it one of the previous nights. 

Hoseok did a double take, caught off guard by his question. “What do you mean?” 

Jin furrowed his brows, his lips pressing into a small frown. “At lunch. With Y/n.” 

Hoseok looked intensely at Jin, being sure to over-articulate himself for further emphasis. 

“Jin–I was never at lunch today.” 

Y/n couldn’t remember much of her afternoon after she had finally cracked, spilling out her encounter while avoiding the stare of the woman–now identified as Candida–in the mirror. Even now, as she lay on top of her comforter in her day clothes after dinner with her legs dangling to the floor and all of the lights in her near vicinity turned on, she could still feel the burning holes of her stare when she wasn’t looking. 

Her boots were discarded in front of the closet where they should be tucked away, but each time she stepped up to the door and encircled the knob with her fingers, she couldn’t bring herself to turn it. That same fear from before held itself like a blade against her throat, controlling her every movement with the threat of its impending cut. Which meant she would only be able to scrounge for night clothes in her dresser, and potentially re-wear something old from the hamper in the morning. 

Dust hung from the blades of her fan, and she tracked the tufts as the wooden slats turned in lazy circles. She would be okay. They would figure this out, and she could handle it. She let her eyes wander back down to her desk where Namjoon had lined a plethora of tools for her to use: an assortment of incense, a smattering of stones, a neatly stacked pyramid of bundles, and even a nicely sized sound bowl he had taught her how to play. All things that should work–that do work–just not for whatever ails her. 

Whatever ails her is not a spirit, it is not a devil. It is something entirely new. 

Y/n heaved herself up, eyeing her shower through the open door to gather the will to get in it and wash her day off. She paced, deliberately slow and equally as pointless. A way to buy time from being alone and vulnerable in her bathroom, closed off from the rest of the room and leaving plenty of time for Candida to return. 

With her next turn, she clocked the freshly stacked pile of towels on her bathroom shelf, an invisible light bulb ticking on above her head. She had found a solution to her shower problem. 

She laid them over one another across the bathroom floor, avoiding looking into her mirror at all costs as she did so. Once satisfied with her new ultra-absorbent carpet, she nodded to herself, and spun back to her room for clothes. She didn’t turn fast enough, her eyes catching the smallest glimpses of dark hair and rose golden eyes waiting behind her in the reflection. 

Ignore it, she took gulping breaths, digging through her drawer for fresh clothes. She clenched her teeth, scolding herself for letting something so simple get beneath her skin. If she could face murderous demons with guns and fists, she could handle this. Because they would figure out a solution. 

Jimin hadn’t been able to hear her, and Jungkook could not see her–so she must not be real. A figment of her imagination or her mind playing tricks on her. She shouldn’t be able to get in any part of her room, so it must be a trick of the light, or a prank of sorts. It couldn’t hurt her if it wasn’t real. 

She returned to the bathroom with clothes in hand, ripping open her shower curtain and keeping it that way, even as she let the hot water rain down upon her skin–the curtain stayed open. Any rogue droplets were caught by her spread of towels that kept her floors safe from water damage. A proper solution. 

After her shower, she flopped back onto her bed where she had been to stare up into the hypnotizing twirl of her ceiling fan as she had done before, counting each time the blade with a small chip on its edge made its rounds. One. Two. Three…

Their group was in a state of limbo. Yoongi was safe for the most part, which took their biggest concern off their chest for now. But it left them with no trajectory on how to get him back on U.S soil, no goal for their next steps on solving this massive puzzle, and no idea which way to turn next. 

Yoongi's words from the prior weeks floated through her mind–of finding her sister. They became especially loud when the pictures Jungkook had taken resurfaced,  pieces of Matilda’s bed broken and stashed away just downstairs in an office she no longer recognized. 

Though she didn’t think she could do it. That was one person she didn’t know if she could face. 

She needed to stop thinking about this stuff for a few minutes. Give herself a minute to just breathe until they were all ready to reconvene over text to see if Bear had more energy to chat. 

She took a deep breath in, sliding her eyes closed as she exhaled. Digging deep into her subconscious like fingers sifting through soil, she tunneled through her mind and her soul for her green vines and flowers, hoping that if she could conjure a few of them it would help ease some of her discomfort. Her searches grew more frantic when they wouldn’t show–not even a sprout was found within her. Her energy felt raw, recoiling in on itself to hide away from her touch like an animal licking its wounds. 

I just need a break, Y/n dragged in another slow inhale, pivoting her train of thought to anything but spirits and witchcraft. Something more pleasant perhaps. 

Jimin came to mind. She thought of the gentle touch of his hand along her cheek, and the way he had pulled her into him the evening before. Her hand itched to text him and see if he would come keep her company, and in that moment, with a growing smile and a fuzzy feeling in her middle, she realized there wasn’t anything stopping her from seeing him again. 

Excitement bubbled over at the prospect of spending more time alone with him like they used to–free of any barriers for the first time since she returned. They could just be them. She grinned a bit wider, and decided that spending time with him would be much better than sitting in her room alone. 

She opened her eyes, instantaneously meeting the fan and ceiling light above her that she was previously staring into. Her excitement faltered like a weak pulse when she noticed the reflection that greeted her upon the golden arms that held the lampshades in place refracted more than just her body laying below it. 

Her heart jumped behind her teeth, beating so loudly it ratted her throat with its strength. Raking her eyes over the reflection, she could see the distinct outline of another woman lying on her side beside her–just staring at her. Watching.  

On instinct, she jumped to her feet and spun around to feast her eyes on the woman at last. Her comforter held outline of only where Y/n’s body had been for the rest was empty–just like the bathroom had been. This was too much for her. Her bed was supposed to be a safe place to rest, a place where she would be at her most vulnerable. It made her head spin with something stronger than fear. 

The cool, sleek, metal of her phone was in her hand in an instant, fingers tapping Jimin’s contact and pressing the call button. He answered almost immediately, greeting her with a warm welcome. 

“How did you know I was just thinking about you?” Jimin asked with a sly chuckle, and she could hear the sounds of him rummaging about his room through the speaker. 

“I took a wild guess.” Y/n responded, fighting to keep her tone even, fisting the fabric of her shirt and wringing it into shapes.

There was the sound of his dresser drawer snapping closed, followed by the rustle of fabric before he spoke again. “What do I owe you the pleasure then?” 

“Are you busy?” She cut to the chase, keeping her eyes trained down to her empty bed. 

“For you? Never.” Jimin responded honestly with his favorite remark. 

Y/n gulped, too afraid to look away from her bed to find any other sneaky reflection. “Can you come over for a bit then? I could use some company.” 

Jimin grunted from the other line, followed by the creak of his door opening and closing. “I’ll be there shortly.” His voice grew faint, as though pulling the microphone down and away from his mouth to hang up.

“Can you stay on the phone until you get here?” Y/n gnawed on her lip, stabbing at the top layer of skin. 

Another rustle, and his voice returned in proximity. “Of course. Is something wrong?” 

“No.” Y/n answered quickly, before giving it a second thought. “Not really–maybe. Just still a bit shaken from today, that’s all.” 

Jimin hummed back, and she heard his footsteps round the end of the hall towards her room. “I’m coming down the hall now. Is your door unlocked?”

“Yes.” Y/n breathed, counting down the seconds until he arrived. 

The steps drew closer, stopping outside her door for a moment. Her door swung open, and from the corner of her eye she could see him cross the threshold without any issue before shutting the door behind him. She still hadn’t looked up from her bed–she couldn’t. What if she did and Candida came back? 

“Here.” He murmured softly, the word clambering about the room twice like an echo from both the speaker pressed to her ear and where he stood behind her. He tapped his screen, the dial tone chiming in her ear shortly after. Jimin came to her side and slid both hands up skin of her arms to rest on her shoulders and spin her to meet his prodding gaze. 

He didn’t dig, but his expression said enough. Soft pillowy lips slightly parted and his brows furrowed, thumbs running soothing circles on her arms. A silent plea to lean on him, to tell him what was wrong. The problem was that she already had told him what was wrong, and she saw no use in repeating herself so soon. 

“I just don’t want to be alone.” Y/n finally offered with a measly shrug. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth. 

“That’s fine with me.” Jimin graced her with a sweet curve of his lips. “What did you have in mind?” 

Y/n meandered her eyes over to her bed then back to him. The thought of someone living filling up the space next to her releasing some of the anxiety of crawling into it again. “Can we just lay together for a bit? I’m beat.” 

“Oh nooooo…” Jimin started, dragging the end of the word out far too long. He reached back to flick her overhead light off, then snatched her hand and dragged her towards her bed. “How will I ever accept such a tantalizing offer to do my favorite thing in the whole world!” Jimin sarcastically lamented, flopping down to her bed with a dramatic sigh. “Pull on my leg, why don’t you.” He tugged the covers out and slid himself under them, scooching down further into her sheets for extra measure. He flipped open the covers and gestured with his hand for her to join him while giving her his best cheesy grin. 

Y/n rolled her eyes at his antics, lowering herself onto the mattress and rolling over to face him. 

“There we go, just like old times~” He sang sweetly, tucking the covers over her shoulders and resting one of his arms over the dip of her waist. 

Y/n tucked her face into the crook of his neck, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. This felt normal. This was the closest to normal she had felt with any of them since she had returned–no secrets or ominous words that held a thousand hidden meanings, no newfound distance or changes form the wear and tear of time that she had to learn; just her and Jimin how they used to always be. 

“I missed this.” Y/n mumbled, dragging one of her forearms to drape over his side. 

Jimin sighed, closing his eyes. “Me too.” 

Seconds of them breathing slowly in each other's space turned to minutes, then before Y/n knew it, her eyes had started to droop and the faint sound of Jimin’s phone occasionally clipping a video or reel as he scrolled idly behind her seemed to grow distant. It wasn’t until he reached a hand over to flip off her lamp that she jolted, grabbing his wrist to stop him in a panic. 

“Don’t.” Y/n blinked rapidly to rid her eyes of sleep. 

Jimin tilted his head to the side, inspecting her features with a disapproving frown. “You should really try and sleep.”

“I can fall asleep with the light on.” Y/n reassured him, lowering her head back onto his arm. 

Jimin quirked an eyebrow but withheld any further comments. He leaned forwards, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and then another one that lingered the extra second that it took to make her insides turn gooey. “If you say so. I’ll stay here until I need to head back to my room.” 

“Do you really need to though?” Y/n found herself only half joking. 

“Not necessarily–though I didn’t bring over clothes for work in the morning.” Jimin let out a few quiet laughs. “And I can’t sleep with the lights on.” 

“Well…” Y/n turned to glare at the lamp like it was the one causing all of her problems. “If you stay you can turn it off.” She turned back to him, holding a finger up threateningly. “Only if you promise to stay though.” 

“Cross my heart.” Jimin’s actions mimed his words, drawing a small ‘x’ over the place his heart would be. 

“Fine.” Y/n grumbled, burrowing further into him. “It’s the price I’ll pay for a sleepover.” 

Jimin full belly laughed, clicking off the lamp and resituating himself so he was on his back with her tucked into his side. “Goodnight Y/n, try and get some actual sleep tonight.” 

“I will.” Y/n’s answer was noncommittal. A lie, spit right through her teeth that he seemed to miss. She had no hope of sleeping a wink–not when each time she closed her eyes she could almost feel the woman watching her, just out of sight but never gone. Y/n’s father had made multiple angry, stomping rounds of the upstairs corridors before she let herself drift off, using Jimin’s heartbeat and slow languid breaths as an anchor away from everything. 

_________________________________________

Wednesday was a blur. Hoseok hadn’t reached out to her to schedule another dance in the ballroom, and she didn’t care to ask–both not keen on seeing him or the ballroom anytime soon. Stupidly Y/n kept checking her phone screen while she worked, a small crumb of naive hope lingering within that each notification from their group chat would be Yoongi checking in on them, or his mother calling her with an update. 

But each time it buzzed, she was disappointed–if only partially so. 

Most of the day, it was Jimin sending updates about Bear and what he was able to find of him in the archives the day prior and she could never be truly disappointed to hear from him. Turns out, Margaret hadn’t been lying about there being more to their family than meets the eye. 

The vision Bear had shown her was cemented when Jimin had uncovered a box loaded with shared love notes and letters between him and Patti, written like two yearning poets from across a vast canyon with no bridge. Beautiful yet so desperately unfinished, left to crumble to dust without any satisfying conclusion. A love affair and a broken marriage. An allusion to a fight between friends on a page smeared with ink from the press of the writer's fervent hand. Grief. 

There were other notes and cryptic messages shared with someone else whose handwriting was much more swooping and elegant on torn up chunks of notebook paper with deep creases. A few of the notes here and there had new handwriting entirely when someone else would join the discussion. Through the dozen notes Jimin had sent, Y/n could count at least four different penmanship styles. The contents of the messages always changed, seemingly random words plucked and strung together like beads in a line with no order or pattern. After seeing a few of them, there was clearly meaning behind them–just not one they knew. 

“The book was a drab. 0333.  Plot punctured peonies. The church bell rang 4 times, it was a lovely sound.”

“CD Cities two, seven to the right. Swept the halls but still dust stays. Bluebell is wilting, and water does not help. Have the sirens run their course?” 

“Prayer for a mile. I spoke to god this morning. Took three steps to the north.” 

In the next bunch the small precise letters of Bear stayed, but the others shifted, adding new ones to the bunch while others disappeared entirely. 

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

“0333. Have you seen my glasses? I can’t read without them.” 

“Fences broke. Two birds flew loose. They are wet. My hands are too heavy, I can’t catch them.”

“I love a good thunderstorm. A tiger was born. So completes the circle of fifths.”

“0333. I can't figure out which song to play. It scares me.” 

It was clear to any one you ran their eyes over the papers that they were speaking in some sort of code. A group of household members hiding behind notes and hidden meetups–sneaking around in secrecy. Y/n could almost laugh at the synchronicities from whenever this had been written to now, her brain already drawing connections to their current little group of accumulated rebels and whoever Bear had been working with. 

The occasional messages were nice call backs to reality for Y/n as she worked, her mind constantly torn between a tooth achingly strong headache and helping to organize the florals for the upcoming spring popup that Saturday. She felt guilty for only being able to care for the plants in the greenhouse while Namjoon did most of the heavy lifting (figuratively and literally) around the property finishing up the last minute transplants for the celebration in time for the massive surge of guests that had already begun to trickle in. 

Working gave her an easy out from her current…predicament. She had convinced herself after she had finally fallen asleep that when she woke up Candida would be gone like a bad dream. And technically, if only for a moment, she was. When she had looked into her bathroom mirror that morning while brushing her teeth without thinking of the consequences, her reflection was alone in her bathroom up until she bent down to spit into the sink, rising with a short scream to find Candida standing next her with her hands on the counter only visible for a second before blinking out of sight. 

Progress was progress though. If she was only there sometimes and that was better than all of the time in her opinion. They could surely get it to none with some more pushing and smoking her out with rosemary and frankincense–At least that’s what she chose to believe. 

But it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

More peonies had been left at her door for her to find when she had returned from her day’s work, sending her irritation ticking upwards marginally. She loved the flowers–she truly did–it was just that her string was now weighed down with multiple bundles of them, and she had run out of room for preserving anymore. Tossing them was out of the question, because what if she offended the gifter and faced punishment? The only thing she could do was stuff them in the vase Jimin had given to her after her shower and let them sit on her desk to bask in the sun that filtered through her blinds. 

That afternoon the four of them poured over books that Namjoon supplied: Y/n, Jungkook and Jimin splayed across the floor on their stomachs over her rug with Namjoon stretched out on her desk chair. Bear had been left in Jimin’s room, as they decided it was too risky to keep carrying him back and forth through the halls everyday. For his convenience in case he wished to speak to them, they had a walkie-talkie lying face up on her desk, but it had yet to light up with any transmissions. 

Bear had settled into silence after she had opened up about her story with Candida, whether because he feared her, or because he was hesitant to use the walkie after knowing it could be so easily compromised. Either way, she didn’t rush him. Not when they were without direction at the moment. Out of all of them he deserved time to rest and recuperate after he had described being on the run for ages until he had found himself stuck in the museum's power box–an occurrence he couldn’t quite remember. They did have a general timestamp of when it had happened, specifically some time between her first trip into the Paralrealm and the days following it. Because she had seen him in there if only just a snippet of him leaping from the dining room.  

They could look for G-min, but that was out of the question without Yoongi present. The other option was to move forth with the ritual to summon Ani, but Jungkook and Namjoon both argued that it could end badly if there was something going on with Y/n that could potentially interfere. So here they were, crowded on her floor with their noses stuck in books about spiritualism for any clue as to her predicament and tips for how to separate Bear from his; one of her sides fit snugly against Jimin’s and the other empty and cold from the distance Jungkook had left between them. 

Jungkook, the ever present mystery, had closed himself off again–a spitting image of the person he was when she had first returned. He still watched over her, walked her to and fro whenever his schedule allowed, and skirted his eyes over her every so often at the dinner table. He wasn’t making jokes in any capacity let alone blessing her with laughter and crooked smiles that crinkled his eyes just so. He was pulling away again more than just physically, and she loathed it. 

Every time she snuck a worried glance over to him, he either deliberately didn’t look up from the pages he was turning, or he was staring intently at the vase of peonies on her desk with an unplaceable expression. It brought the burn of tears into the back of her throat that she had to bury down deep before she could let it fester and become evident to him–if he even looked at her that is. 

Jimin walked her to dinner, keeping his steps in time with hers and one of his hands swinging their conjoined one’s back and forth as they walked, amassing a moment of tranquility and gentleness for just them. This tiny moment in time compared to the rest of her day made it exponentially better, a glimmering jewel in comparison to the rough edges of rock that was how her week had gone so far. She wished she had taken an extra breath to let the time with him sink in, for she was thrown back into reality in the seconds it took to approach the dining room. 

Dinner was tense that night. Taehyung kept quiet with his head down, and scattered the second the meal had ended and Hoseok– well Hoseok (and Y/n means this as politely as one possibly could) looked like shit. And he didn’t even try to hide it. 

His hair was disheveled in peaks, eyes permanently stained with smudges of violet from exhaustion and the head he kept tipped down towards his plate was heavy, like he couldn’t bear to hold it up. He moped, shoulders hunched elbows tucked into his side, stealing sidelong glances at her that she pretended not to notice. She almost felt guilty for how he looked, worried about whatever it was that was turning him into such a shell of himself. It tore her up inside to see him this way while knowing she couldn’t do anything about it–especially not after what he had done. He had made his bed, and he would have to lay in it. 

Jimin escorted her back to her room after dinner, an arm thrown over her waist this time to offer the extra support he knew she needed after seeing Hoseok so close to her, and having to pretend she wasn’t constantly threatening to burst at the mere glimpse of him. Everything felt like it was falling apart when nothing was even happening. The coming and going of nothing was uncomfortable for her, it made her mind rush to fill in the gaps and empty spaces with what if’s and over dramatic conclusions. 

Even with the pads of Jimin's fingers running over the exposed skin of her shoulder and his quiet humming in her ear of something classical, she couldn’t stop herself from drawing beneath the pummeling waves of anxiety riddled thoughts.  

“After you~” Jimin’s warmth left her back to twist her door open, and he gestured into the open threshold with his free hand for her to go in first. At the withdrawal of his touch, she brought her arms up to hug herself around the middle to make up for it, as if touch was a shield against Candida’s invisible haunting. 

Y/n stepped into the room with a grateful nod, and shifted in the center while she waited for him to close the door after him and join her in the place that no longer felt invincible–no longer felt truly safe. 

“Instead of me asking you question after question,” Jimin slid his hands onto the curve of her waist, drawing her into him with a bump of his forehead to hers, “Is there even anything I can do for you to help with what’s going on up here?” 

Y/n’s lips quirked down into a frown and unfurled her arms to rest her forearms over his shoulders with an honest shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“No worries.” Jimin started to lead them in a sway that followed an unhurried tempo to the sound of the drizzling rain from the window. “If we can’t fix it, we work with it.” 

He turned them in slow circles in a dance much less complicated than the steps Hoseok would usually try to lead her in. This was no sort of multi-step movement that took them around her rug–instead it was aimless, an effortless rock from side to side that smoothed the worry lines on her face that felt permanently placed there as of late. Jimin even sang words from a song she vaguely recognized intermittently between angelic hums when he forgot the words. When the song reached its natural conclusion he pushed it onwards, adding new lyrics he came up with on the spot as he went–most of them nonsensical and silly rhymes to have the both of them erupting into fits of giggles. His last line had him stumped, taking on a contemplative look that blurred between sweet and sly. If there was a manual for how to read Jimin park, this look would be in the first few pages as a warning sign for trouble. Thus the game had begun.

“I can’t seem to think of a rhyme for my next line.” Jimin gave her a morose shrug of his shoulders, laying on an act of dejection so thick it was like he was varnishing a painting with how much his eyes shined at her. “Care to help me?” 

He made the first move and Y/n humored him, bringing a hand from his shoulders to tap at her chin. “What’s the word you’re trying to find a rhyme for?” 

“I was going to use the word ‘bliss’” Jimin couldn’t hide his smirk any longer. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any good ones, would you?” 

“‘Bliss’? Well that’s an interesting one.” Y/n chuckled, feigning innocence–two could play at this game now. “What about ‘miss’?” 

Jimin clicked his tongue a few times while he pretended to think it over. He then pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head regretfully. “Doesn’t have the right ring to it. I’ll have to keep thinking.”

“Hiss? Swiss?” Y/n listed up with a teasing lilt, taking care not to step on him as he spun them in another circle. 

“No. Not those either.” Jimin tutted, gripping her waist a bit tighter. “I think we are getting closer though.” 

“Are we?” Y/n stayed coy, tilting her head to the side with her question. 

“Oh for sure.” Jimin brushed his nose against hers. “I can feel it.”  

“I do have a few more ideas I can offer…” Y/n taunted, pulling her face away from his while pretending not to notice the slip of disappointment he let show. 

“Pray do tell.” He tried to lean in again, but she dodged it ‘accidentally’. 

“Selfless?” Y/n offered, her voice angling upwards towards the end. Jimin scrunched his face in displeasure. “Okay, how about hopeless?” 

“Not quite.” Jimin slid his grip down to her hips to still their sway, his tone growing sharper but not with any intentions to use it to cut. “Try again.” 

Y/n hummed and her cheeks warmed as she bit her lip to keep from grinning. “Surely sepsis is a good fit for whatever it is you’re looking for” 

He licked his lips with a disbelieving laugh, and she could tell with a flourish of pride that she was affecting him just as much as he affects her for once. “Now you’re just being silly. How’d you even think of that word?” 

“Damn I really thought that one would be it.” Y/n pursed her lips to the side. “Perhaps I should ask Namjoon for a dictionary…” Y/n drifted off, taking a step back as though she was trying to leave and do just that. 

Jimin yanked her back to where she was before and then some, pulling her flush against him with a resolute shake of his head. “There’s no need for that.”

“Then I’m all out of ideas.” Y/n conceded, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation and a sorrowful smile. “It’s a shame too, because I liked that song.” 

“Well you’re in luck because I think I’ve found just the word I was looking for.” Jimin mumbled, leaning in so close she could feel his plush lips ghost over hers as he spoke. 

She found herself tipping forward to meet him, her lids becoming weighed down by more than just exhaustion from the week–the urge to give in coming on too strong. “And what is it?” 

Jimin feathered his lips against hers, hovering just millimeters away. Just as he was about to close the distance, he retracted his face from hers and gave her a gleefully mischievous smile. “Actually, I think I will just go with ‘miss’. It was a good suggestion.” 

Y/n floundered there in his arms for a moment, her mind still catching up to his tease even when he tried to start swaying them in a dance again. She couldn’t stop staring at the confident grin on his face, and the eyes that narrowed at her in a silent dare to push back. She should have known that engaging in a battle of flirtatious banter would be one she would lose–especially to one with such a record as Jimin. 

“Do you not like that one?” Jimin baited her with a cocky raise of his brow, evidently satisfied by the flustered look on her face. 

Y/n would have to be just as forward and then some if she wanted to come out of this the victor. She would have to do something bold. Her eyes scanned his face while her mind worked up her plan–she wouldn’t lose to their teasing any longer. 

“I actually do.” Y/n started with the most unassuming face she could pull  when so close to the pretty man in front of her, her heart fluttering with the speed of a butterfly's wings against her ribs. She let him sway them back and forth, even going as far as to lean into the dance with more effort and intention.

Jimin kept a smile present on his features, though his eyes gave away his suspicion that something was afoot. “That’s good to hear. Should I sing it then?” 

“If you want to.” Y/n slid her hands up his forearms to come together at the back of his neck, letting one slip down the front of his chest and graze the skin near the collar of his shirt while her finger tips fiddled with the necklace pendant that rested there. 

She felt his Adam's apple bob against the back of her hand, and she could sense his eyes burning into her face that was undoubtedly hot as an oven. She wasn’t sure how much she could hold it together in such unfamiliar territory, Yet unfamiliar doesn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying herself–it was actually quite the opposite–there she felt a rush of exhilaration at the new trait of hers she was discovering where she liked being the one to tease. 

“I like this necklace.” Y/n commented passively, letting her hand creep lower over his sternum. Delight swelled in her chest when she felt his pulse mirroring how fast her own was going, both hearts in a race against each other with no finish line in sight. 

Before her confidence could betray her she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, then another to his cheek and his nose. She mapped out his face with shaky kisses that betrayed her nerves in all places except one, letting her hand stop over his abdomen before dragging back upwards. Her eyes and mind fixated on his mouth, but she could not let herself give in just yet. She was so close to victory she could almost taste it against his skin. 

Once satisfied with the amount of kisses she took a step back, readying her final blow. She beamed up at him with a honeyed smile that dripped with overbearing sweetness, and kept her voice light for her delivery even if her face radiated heat and her stomach threatened to tie itself in knots. “There. I’m glad you chose the word ‘miss’–it was really inspiring.” 

Jimin moved faster than she could register, swooping down to capture her mouth with his. It was similar to their first in its dragging pace, but the differences were evident in how much deeper–how much hungrier this one felt. She leaned into it with just as much passion, doing her best to keep up with him and shower him with just as much eagerness and attention as he was giving her in the way she slotted her fingers into his hair and pressed him to her with added force. He withdrew all too soon for her liking, peppering kisses along her face with a touch as delicate as a gentle summer breeze. Then in the next moment he had stepped back completely, creating a great distance between them that felt more like the length a mile than the few measly feet it was. Especially her compared to how they were moments before. She went to chase after him, for despite having just enjoyed a perfectly fine dinner she found herself feeling starved, a craving for something more than just what could be served on a platter or a plate. He smiled–one that was all too coquettish for her liking–a cat looking at a mouse that had crept right into its awaiting hold.

“Well I should probably head back to my room to get ready now that you seem to be feeling a bit better. I promised Jungkook I would go to the gym with him tonight since he was stuck reading all afternoon.” He stepped confidently past her towards her door, leaving her looking after him breathlessly puzzled. “If you need me tonight don’t hesitate to ask.” He pulled the door closed behind him but paused, pushing it back open to give her one last remark. “But you will have to ask me nicely.” 

Whatever idea of victory Y/n had thought she accomplished was tarnished, eroded away by the feeling of both fluttering warmth and frustration he had left her with. She should have known better than to engage in a battle of flirtatious banter when her opponent's name was Jimin Park. 

_________________________________________

Y/n had managed to sleep that night with the help of a stolen sheet from the hall closet that she tossed over the mirror in the corner of her room, taking extra care to tug on it until the entire surface was covered so no snippet of Candida could show through. She turned the music up a notch louder than the night before, and hugged on of her pillows to her chest to hide into while she corralled her mind to think of thoughts of the upcoming weekend, spending time with her friends, and her to-do list for the following days up until the Spring pop up.

Thursday passed much the same as Wednesday. Each time she stepped over a puddle, walked into a bathroom, looked into the old sink in the back of the plant room, or walked by a particularly reflective piece of greenhouse glass it was like a game of roulette on whether or not she’d be alone in whatever task she was doing, or if a dark and menacing figure would be following behind her. That was enough to keep her nerves on constant edge, jumping at each breeze that jostled the door to the greenhouse that they had left propped open to welcome the warm weather of the season. 

Taehyung was just as antsy and distant, saving face with tight lipped smiles and curt nods when he did show up to meal times. He had even taken distance from Jimin which was wholly unusual–skipping their routine Thursday lunch without so much as an explanation. When she had tried to text him to see if he wanted to get coffee with her on Friday, he had left her with a bland ‘Let me check my schedule’ without ever following through with a response. 

Friday was warmer than any other day had been, leading the front for an equally as hot weekend–perfect for the spring pop up that had Namjoon running amuck like a headless chicken, with smears of dirt and dried sweat coating every inch of visible skin. She pretty much had to wrestle him into one of the wooden seats in the entrance room of the greenhouse for just five minutes to eat something that she had Jimin bring from the kitchen. 

Lunch in the greenhouse had become a new tradition, Jungkook or Jimin running food out to them from the kitchen away from Hoseok and Jin’s prying eyes. And with how busy the past few days had been, they needed little excuse to justify it. Anyone with eyes could see the copious amount of flowers being delivered, or the tents being put up on the front lawn of the hotel. A perfect excuse to avoid everyone falling right into their hands. 

Y/n watched him scarf down huge bites of his salad with haste, not bothering to fully chew them before swallowing. “Joon, if you keep up this pace we are going to end up in the ER. I have no idea how to give the Heimlich. You need to just relax–you’re kind of freaking me out. You haven’t even rambled to me about food deserts ONCE this week. ” 

Namjoon made a noise of offense in the back of his throat, and took his time chewing his next bite, washing it down with a gratuitous sip of water from his reusable bottle. “Sorry–I’m just a little over saturated with everything.” 

“I get that, but please just take a second to breathe.” Y/n tracked his fork's path to his mouth, reaching one hand out to stop its trajectory. “Preferably without food in your mouth–I wasn’t joking about not being able to perform the Heimlich.” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes but obliged, lowering his fork and taking a controlled breath. The muscles in his body visibly relaxed, and he took another breath on his own accord without needing her direction. After letting it settle into his system he sheepishly looked over at her. “I guess we switched places for today, huh?” 

“I guess so.” Y/n laughed airily, prodding her own salad with her fork with no interest in bringing any of it to her mouth. 

“How’s it been by the way?” Namjoon raised his fork to his mouth, letting it hover in the air while he chewed. “The thing.” 

Y/n swallowed, eyes fixated on the dark figure reflecting in the metal over her shoulder that only she could see before he lowered it down to spear through his next one, cutting off her line of sight. “Fine.” 

He paused, looking up at her through his brow. “ Just ‘fine’?” 

Y/n nodded nonchalantly, holding up a stack of vegetables and chicken on her fork and inspecting it thoroughly. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

“Why do I have a hard time believing you?” Namjoon pursed his lips. 

“That’s a you problem.” Y/n shook her head with another forced laugh. “I got it all handled.” 

Namjoon looked at her blankly, as steadfast as always even if he may be a bit scattered with his workload. “Just talk to someone about it please. It doesn’t have to be me–just someone.” 

“I’m going for a post lunch stroll with Jungkook if that makes you feel better. I need to stretch my legs and get some air.” Y/n offered, dropping her fork in defeat to her lunch she wasn’t hungry enough to eat.

“That’s good, I'm sure he needs it too.” A teasing smile grew on his lips, inching upwards slowly like he was testing the waters to see how much he could before she yelled at him. “How are things with Jimin? Think you could talk to him about it?” 

“Things with him are good.” Y/n flushed instantaneously at the mere mention of him, suddenly very interested in giving her salad a second chance. 

Namjoon grinned wider, letting out a low whistle while he folded his hands together to prop his chin on to giver her his full attention with a coy tip of his head. “Tell me more~”

Y/n shrugged shyly, hiding her face from him to shovel a bite into her mouth, her words muffled by the vegetables. “He may have told me he felt the same and maybe we…kissed or something like that….” 

She watched his eyes glint with something akin to playful, and he nodded with an overly pompous hum. “Huh. It’s almost like–” 

“Don’t say it.” Y/n groaned, tossing her utensil down and leaning back into her chair, hiding her face in both hands. 

“Like I was–and offer me countering evidence I’m incorrect–” 

“I will.” Y/n rushed to cut him off again. “The evidence is that whatever you are about to say is factually incorrect on standard principle.” 

“ –that I was right this whole time.” Namjoon heaved a feigned shock, widening his eyes in an exaggerated manner and gasping. “Who would have thought?” 

“Oh shut up.” Y/n lolled her head to the side towards the door, seeing the distant blurry dark figure that was Jungkook ambled from further down the path. “You only have sixty seconds to tease me about it before Mr. Grumpy gets here.” 

Namjoon giggled, his dimples coming on full display. “No, I won't push it too hard. All I can say is that I think I deserve the trip to Longwood, not the other way around.” He scooped up his last bite, before pushing his bowl to the side with a sigh. “So what are you guys then?” 

“We haven’t really put any label on it. We’re just…us.” Y/n let her lips curve up lightly. 

“Well, whatever you two are, I’m glad to hear it worked out.” Namjoon tipped his cup at her in a cheers, and took another sip. 

Y/n felt warmth blossom up from her chest and into her cheeks. Every time she got to spend time with Namjoon like this, she was reminded of just how grateful she was for him and his fluid nature, like the gentle yet reliable sway of a willow tree. “Thanks, Joon. I appreciate you more than you know.” She used one of her hands to lay over top of his much larger one, giving it a few squeezes. 

“Same goes for you.” He let his thumb run over her knuckles absentmindedly until Jungkook impatiently knocked on the door. Namjoon eyed his dark frame through the door wearily before sharing a knowing look with Y/n. “Good luck.” 

Y/n found herself needing his well wishes–because all the luck in the world wasn’t enough to prepare her for the two foot gap between them as they walked, or the zipped lips he kept when she tried to talk to him about anything and everything she could find on their short walk. She crouched down to inspect a particularly wide and vibrant yellow mushroom on the side of the trail just to avoid looking at his distant, expressionless face; taking out her phone to try and identify it. 

“It looks like it might be a golden waxy cap mushroom.” Y/n announced to him, but from her point of view she might as well be talking to herself. “They can be edible but they don’t taste very good.” She heard his shoes crunch against the grass overgrowth while he shifted from foot to foot behind her, the only comfort of knowing he was still there, still he remained unresponsive. 

She sighed, moving to stand from her position to relieve the deep ache in her knees that had started to radiate from them from being so low to the ground for too long and pocketing her phone. “But who cares about that anyways.” She muttered to herself, trudging further down the trail. Jungkook eyed her quizzically and clenched his jaw to keep from speaking, walking after her a few paces back.

 His behavior was really starting to get under her skin–surpassing the angry stage and arriving at the one she hated the most: insecurity. Being around him like this made her doubt whether or not he even wanted to be around her at all. It made a lump build in her throat that she swallowed away each time it threatened to choke her out. 

This was not at all what she had hoped for when she had reached out to him intending to go for a stroll through the woods for a break away from all of the bustling energy of the hotel grounds that swarmed with guests and vendors alike, and her laundry list of things she still needed to complete. Not to mention the fact that over a month ago she had invited Hoseok to be her plus one for the event tomorrow, and would no doubt see him, Jin, and her mother of not both of her parents. She needed Jungkook more than ever, yet something made him pull away. It had her fists clenching with a rise of self-defensiveness–because in her eyes she had done nothing to deserve such treatment when all she’s done is be patient and understanding. Why should she trust him when he made it evidently clear that he didn’t trust her to talk to? 

She huffed out her feelings into the warm air, letting her attention float around the natural scenery that had grown lush with green, and the tiny star shaped yellow and white wild flora that lined the lip of the path on either end like a protective escort for each traveler. Something golden but no larger than the tip of her thumb caught her eye instantaneously, stopping her in her tracks to leap into the brush and off the trail to bound after it. 

“What are you doing?” Jungkook called anxiously from the trail where he had stayed behind. 

Y/n bent at the waist to take in her freshly spotted treasures: beautifully proud buttercups that stretched their petals to the sky, dancing in the breeze to reach for the sun that filtered down to the forest floor.

 “Getting some flowers.” Her voice was strained from her knees pressing into her middle while she grabbed as many strong sturdy stems as she could without dropping them. 

Jungkook trampled after her to the sunny spot, graciously taking her hoard from her so she could fit more in her hands. He turned them in his fist, raising an eyebrow at her. “Buttercups?” 

“Yep. I like them.” Y/n stood up too fast, blinking rapidly to him to try and shake away the dizziness and the sudden imbalance. 

“Aren’t they weeds?” Jungkook droned out, his voice level and void of any dips in tone.

“Technically. But weeds can be just as pretty as they are a nuisance. Plus these [particular ones can perform a completely scientific and totally not bullshit test.” Y/n finally regained her sense of balance and grabbed the flowers from his hand, plucking one from the bunch and holding it up under his chin to look for that telltale yellow reflection under his skin. His skin glowed with a buttery yellow shine, and she clicked her tongue in mock disappointment, like a doctor preparing to give a patient bad news. “I’m afraid to say that you eat a lot of butter. The flowers say so.” 

He rolled his eyes, snatching the flower from her hand and holding it up under her chin like she had to his, eyeing the way it reflected a yellowy sheen to the underside of her chin with a monotone voice. “It’s contagious.” 

Y/n chuckled, pulling the flower away and tucking it back in her bunch. “Terribly so. Good thing these don’t grow in the fall, or the entire country would light up like a Christmas tree come Thanksgiving.” 

Jungkook let out a barely audible snort, turning his gaze towards the tree line and scouring it for something else. They zeroed in on something a distance away, and side-stepped around her to pursue it. 

He paused a dozen or so feet away to snatch up some tall stems of purple and white Dame's Rocket flowers from a patch of tall grass, pinching the stems to be of an equal length with her buttercup bouquet. When satisfied with his haul, he returned to her side, removing the buttercups from her hands to slide the blooms evenly throughout them to create a lovely array of color. 

Y/n admired them for a few moments before grinning up at him. “Nice touch, Kook.” He shrugged, avoiding her eyes with the faintest of blushes dusting his features. 

The two of them returned to the trail with her wildflower bouquet in hand, walking a few steps closer to one another. By the time they had turned and were halfway back to the estate, it had doubled in size with a smattering of deep violets, sky blues, white bloodroot flowers, and even a few pink blossoms they had managed to swipe from beneath the decomposing plant matter–almost all from Jungkook, who had wordlessly insisted on being the one to stomp through the brush to grab it for her whenever she spotted one. 

She held it to her side carefully as they walked–a special one of a kind prize from their own hard work and sharp eyes. Jungkook kept staring into the flowers, dragging over each petal and stem like he was memorizing them for an exam and less like he was admiring them. It was a stare much too serious for anyone looking at wildflowers. 

“You’re looking at these like they just took your family fortune.” Y/n waved the bouquet in front of his face playfully. “Do you not like one of them?” 

Jungkook shook his head, sucking in a thoughtful breath before responding. “No. I’m taking them in, just in case.” 

“Just in case what?” Y/n urged him to continue on, taking note of where they were on the trail. That mushroom should be coming up and she wanted to snap a good picture of it. 

“Just so I can be certain of something.” Jungkook’s voice stayed even, but she could hear an almost accusing tone lying beneath its plain surface.

Y/n decided she wasn’t going to push any further. If he didn’t want to talk to her anymore she wouldn’t force him to, simple as that. If he wanted to get something off of his chest he would have to say it to her like an adult. She refused to play a game of chase when there were bigger fish to fry–not from the man that had exploded to her about trust a few weeks prior. 

“Alright.” Y/n kept her tone neutral, pulling her phone out as the tree that the mushroom was near came into view at the end of the trail. She shoved the bouquet into his chest to take from her. “Hold this for a minute please.” 

They closed in on the tree and she stopped, inspecting the trunk and the ground surrounding it for the golden cap of the mushroom she had just identified. Y/n clicked her tongue against the roof of  her mouth, flitting her eyes from bark to root, grass to flower–finding no mushroom in sight. 

“Damnit. I really wanted a picture of that thing. I should have taken it when I found it…” Y/n pouted, slipping her phone away and turning to him. “Well at least we both got to see it.” 

Jungkook scrunched his nose. “The tree?” 

“No.” Y/n shook her head, accepting the flowers he passed her way. “That golden wax mushroom or whatever it was.” 

Jungkook made an even stronger face, looking at her for an explanation. “What mushroom?”

Y/n groaned in irritation. He could give her the silent treatment all he wanted–but to ignore what she said when she tried to talk to him grated her already aggravated nerves. “The mushroom I tried to show you, and spent five whole minutes trying to identify.” 

He blinked at her, clearly still not remembering what she was referring to. While it was a small thing to get annoyed by, for some reason it hurt more than him not talking to her. It meant he couldn’t be bothered anymore to pay attention to her when they were together–and that stung. 

“Forget it.” Y/n bit back in a way she’ll admit was a bit too harsh, but it was difficult to control her tone when she felt so vulnerable. It made her feel like a combination of a burden for being forced to spend so much time with her, while also feeling disrespected at the same–if he didn’t want to spend time with her why even bother accepting to go for a walk?

Not a single word was spoken between either of them by the time they returned to the greenhouse, the two of them sharing a nod in farewell but nothing more. Her mood didn’t have a chance to improve either, for Namjoon greeted her at the front with an overly polite smile that quivered at the edge with restrained impatience. 

“I’m not trying to be a nag and I’m sure it just slipped your mind with everything going on, but could you make sure to water the plants on the second story? They're starting to droop.”

Y/n’s eye twitched, and she took a deep breath to make sure not to take out her frustrations with Jungkook on him. “I did that this morning. But I can give them some more if you think they need it.”

“Y/n, I’m not accusing you of anything and I’m not angry–but the dirt is bone dry.” Namjoon hastily added, sensing her aggravated demeanor. 

“That’s not possible.” Y/n tore off through the back room and up the metal stairs to the second story. Dread started to pool in her belly when there was no darkened spots on the floor from where the hose would have dripped when she carried it across the catwalk, or beneath the pots from where she had watched it seep from and create a ring around their base earlier that day. She stubbornly stuck one of her fingers a few inches beneath the soil and did a double take. Namjoon was right–it was bone dry, as if it hadn’t been watered in days. 

“What the fuck?” Y/n placed both her hands on her hips and surveyed the rest of the pots that looked to be in a similar state of dry. “I know I watered these today.” 

“Maybe your mind is mixing up the days?” Namjoon offered gently from below as he snatched a large container of freshly picked flowers to carry down to the front lawn. “Just give them a quick drink. No biggie.” 

No biggie? Y/n scoffed. The cuffs of her pants were still damp from when she had accidentally soaked her leg that morning watering the very plant she had just stuck her finger in. Yet she couldn’t deny their current state. So she just grit her teeth and continued on with her job, unrolling the hose and doing as she was asked no matter how much it pissed her off to have to do it again. 

The sun was getting low, nearly completely snuffed by trees when the two of them finally threw their gloves into the labeled bin Y/n had placed near the door with brows studded with dried dirt, pants coated with plant debris and water stains. She skipped dinner in the dining room, not particularly interested in seeing anyone at the moment. Instead she took a shower like she had been for the past couple days–curtain left open and towels laid out to catch the spray. A hand towel draped over her bathroom mirror to cut off most of its reflection, just the bottom strip barely visible. It was enough for her to still see the edge of Candida’s dress as she stood at the sink to wash her face, and Y/n added grabbing another sheet from the house staff cleaning cart to her laundry list of to do’s. What she couldn’t see couldn’t hurt her. 

_________________________________________

The entirety of the early morning hours were dedicated to running in circles around the property with Namjoon, and Jimin who had so kindly offered to help them after visiting her to wish her goodnight and seeing her so frazzled about what they had left to do. 

She had to run across the lawns and halls to return back to her room to have enough time to get herself presentable for the event, pulling on the first nice sundress she could find and risking the mirror to do whatever she could with her face in five minutes or less. The hectic morning left no room for her anxiety to take hold of her until the very moment she had to leave, knowing she’d bound herself into spending time with Hoseok that evening. Seeing her own mother felt less daunting than having to fake smiles and playful banter with him for an entire evening, knowing that somehow he would probably find a way to snuff information out from her in whatever impossible way he did. 

She could barely notice Jimin’s presence next to her while they trekked the halls down to the foyer, the top of Hoseok’s head already visible from the landing and her heart rate skyrocketed at the sight of it. 

“I can’t do this.” Y/n panicked, yanking Jimin by the wrist back into the hallway they had just left. 

“Yes you can.” Jimin encouraged her softly. “Jungkook, Namjoon, and I will all be there tonight. If it gets too overwhelming, come find one of us okay? And you’ll have Tree and Arrow with you. They won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“I can’t.” The control over her breath began to slip through her fingers, coming in and out of her mouth in short bursts. “I can’t face him.” 

“You can.” Jimin grabbed both of her shoulders with a firm shake. “You don’t have to stay with him the entire night. But if you just ghost him completely it will seem more suspicious, right?” 

“I guess so.” Y/n snuck another glance over the railing and instantly regretted it, meeting Hoseok's reddish brown eyes that shifted towards the stairs momentarily. She gasped, and ripped them apart from each other. “I need to go. He saw me.” 

“Y/n–” Jimin tried, but she was already moving down the stairs on autopilot with shaking limbs struggling to hold her body weight up with each step. She came to an abrupt stop at the bottom, coming face to face with the person she wanted to see the least. 

“Hey…” Hoseok offered her an awkward wave, keeping one hand tucked into his back pocket. 

“Hi.” Y/n managed to choke out breathlessly. She needed to pull herself together to give  a convincing performance–one where she didn’t want to scream at him or throttle him or run back to her room to cry for the umpteenth time. An image of a good friend. Hell, how hard could it be if he had been able to do it for so long? 

“My Ma is already out in the stands with my dad. Told ‘em we’d catch up later.” Hoseok sucked in a breath through his teeth, then as if suddenly remembering what they were there for–he rushed to the door and held it open for her to follow through it. “You first.” 

Y/n sped through the gap as swiftly as possible, waiting on the gravel for him to lock up–something they had received a memo about taking special care to do with the surplus of nosey guests on the property. Hoseok fluttered down the stairs to land next to her, keeping a good six inches of space between them as he lead the way to the shrieking children, pulsing music, and bustling crowds, all of them graced by the carefully strung lights and the late afternoon sun. The scent of flowers wafted from yards away, intermingled with handmade candles, hot oil, and van exhaust from the local food trucks lining the hotel driveway. 

“I uh…” Hoseok coughed into one of his fists, bringing her focus back to him. “You look nice.” 

He was nervous, something she had rarely ever seen from him in this capacity. His eyes still looked just as tired as they had all week, and instead of getting dressed up in something as colorful as she would have expected from him, it looked like he didn’t bother changing from his work attire–whether by choice or because he had run out of time.  Each breath he took left in a soft sigh, and his hands couldn’t pick a pocket to stay in. It cemented her belief that he must know she knew what had happened, and he probably didn’t even want to be with her tonight either. 

That shouldn’t have stabbed through her chest as much as it had. She should be grateful he didn’t want to see her anymore, because she shouldn’t want to see him. But she did–she did want to see him; to see him smile, laugh and joke around with her like they used to. She missed her friend. 

Y/n realized he was staring at her, studying her face for something to go off of in place of the response she had yet to give. “Oh–thanks. You too.” She laughed uncomfortably, in a way that sounded deafening in her own ears. 

“Pfft. This?” He pinched his black short sleeve button down between his index finger and thumb. “S’nothing special. I didn’t have a second to grab anything else.” 

“I would’ve waited if you had wanted to!” Y/n chastised him, on instinct one of her hands came up to swat at his upper arm, but he hastily dodged it with a surprised noise from his throat. 

He looked genuinely panicked for a second, but covered it up with a smirk. He wagged one long finger at her and giggled softly. “Careful. I’ll tell my mom if you hit me.” 

“Oh, like she could ever be mad at me.” Y/n rolled her eyes, a real smile starting to tug at her lips against her will. “Misuk loves me.” 

“Too much if you ask me.” Hoseok ducked under the flimsy rope boundary that was aimed to keep people from walking up their driveway, then held it up for her to do the same. “Sometimes I think she likes you more than me.” 

Y/n snorted, rising to her full height on the other side. “Sometimes? Not to toot my own horn, but she did tell me that I’d get her CD collection when she passes. Granted that was a decade ago so maybe she changed her mind–” 

“Oh god no. She still loves you–asks about you all the time.” Hoseok shook his head ardently. 

“Really?” Y/n found herself sincerely taken aback at that comment–especially since she hadn’t tried to reach out to Y/n at all since she had returned. 

“Really.” Hoseok affirmed, guiding the two of them down one of the lines of brightly colored tents and artist stands and weaving them through the chattering crowds and bright faced vendors. “I always tell her the same thing.” 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Y/n pauses, taking a second to run her fingers over a handmade jewelry display. 

Hoseok pressed his lips together into a thin line, watching her movements carefully. “Just that you’re settling in alright, and that she should ask you herself.” 

Y/n hummed lowly and stood straight up again, ignoring the flare of indignation in her belly at whatever Hoseok’s idea of ‘settling in alright’ meant to him. She pushed forth onto the next booth, admiring the crocheted animals and large stand of potted plants that called out to her to spend her money on one of them for her room. 

Which she very much did buy two of them–she deserved to treat herself for the emotional turmoil she had been going through as of late. When the time had come to insert her card into the reader, Hoseok wiggled his against the tap feature before she could even get hers all the way out of her small handbag, looking back at her with a wink that held the ghost his true energy–not this tired shell of who he was. 

She refused the bag and enjoyed holding them both to her chest for emotional support. He’d have to do a lot more than buy her some cute plushies and wink at her for her to even think about forgiving him. 

He didn’t seem to get that memo, because within the first thirty minutes she had her arms full with anything she spent more than three seconds looking at. It was like his hand had wrapped around his card like the handle of a pistol, whipping it out at a moment's notice to come down on each register. 

“Hoseok–this is really enough.” Y/n blew a stray fuzz from her face that had fallen off an ornate vintage style handbag he had just added to the top of her collection. 

“Eh. Just paying you back for those rocks.” Hoseok shrugged distantly, shimmying his card back into his wallet. “It goes to local businesses anyways.” 

The sun had started to take its leave, making the sky take on a gradient that spanned from baby blue to cerulean and complimented the large yellow bulbs strung from tent to tent. They passed Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon at the plant station where they were each meticulously designing their own bouquets over shared laughter and wide toothy grins. Even Jungkook sported a bright smile of his own, and she could hear the ring of his laughter from where she was a few yards away. She found her feet guiding her towards them subconsciously, drawn like a moth to flame. However, something in the way Jungkook’s eyes glinted towards the other men with such childlike joy and his laugh sounded so light and carefree had her stopping. He didn’t sound like that around her much lately. With a droop in her shoulders she strayed back to Hoseok’s side, the last thing she wanted to do was sour their good night by making Jungkook hide back into reclusion at her arrival. 

“You good?” Hoseok chirped from her right, looking at her with an unreadable expression. 

“Yeah–I was just…” Y/n shook her head of her thoughts and took a centering breath. “I’m just getting a little hungry that’s all.” She gave him her best air of nonchalance. 

Hoseok made a small ‘o’ with his mouth, rolling out his shoulders to release a few pops with a miniscule grimace. “Food sounds good. What are you feeling?” 

“Literally anything.” Y/n returned with a grunt, hands grasping around the edge of one of the needle point pieces he had bought her that had started to slide off the top. 

“How about this–I’ll take all of this back to the estate and then grab us something to eat,” Hoseok swept the stack of items into his own arms, gesturing to something behind her, “And you can go sit with my mom while you wait.” 

“What?” Y/n sputtered out, eyes widening into saucers. “Your mom? Where’s–” 

“Y/n! Oh goodness, look at you!” Misuk’s loving voice called from behind her, sounding just as she remembered, if not only just a bit more frayed at the edges with age. “Come here!” 

Hoseok made a face and mouthed a quick ‘Sorry!’ that contradicted the grin on his face at her evident panic. 

Y/n was promptly trapped into the much smaller woman’s arms for a crushing hug. What Misuk Jung lacked in height she made up for in unexpected strength from decades spent dancing, and throwing the children around in her arms when she swam in the pool with them. Y/n could’ve sworn she heard some of her bones popping back into place that she didn’t even know needed it, and robotically brought her arms up to wrap around her well built shoulders. 

“H-hey Ma. It’s good to see you too.” Y/n half heartedly patted between her shoulder blades to distract herself from how much effort it took to breathe in. Her old nickname flew naturally from her lips before she could stop it, but Misuk didn’t seem to care. 

Misuk quickly retracted her arms to cup her face, turning it this way and that to look at it. She clicked her tongue in disapproval, fixing her a reproachful look that Y/n had seen all too much as a kid, her hair standing up on her command. “You’re not sleeping, I can see it in your dull cheeks and puffy eyes. Why is that?” 

Y/n flushed under her scrutinizing stare, she was blunt as ever–though it came from a place of love. “I’ve just been having a hard time resting in the evening. I have another doctor’s visit next month so perhaps I’ll bring it up then.” 

“Good. You should be resting with all that’s happened.” Misuk slotted her elbow through Y/n’s and started to lead her back where she had come from: a series of round tables near the food trucks, dotted with candles and floral centerpieces and spread out close enough to the musicians platform for them to hear the performance without it drowning out all conversation. 

“All that’s happened?” Y/n eyed Misuk’s profile, sending out feelers for what exactly she thought was going on.

“Your concussion.” She clarified and pat the skin of Y/n’s forearm with her hand. “Hoseok told me about it as soon as it had happened. When he had his accident I had insisted we keep him on bed rest for three extra months just to be safe, but you know about how that had went. And you should be doing the same.” She gave Y/n a knowing look, ushering her into a seat across from her husband Jeonghun, who had stars in his eyes as he watch Taehyung flit across the stage from a distance–barely sparing them a glance as they sat. 

“Dear,” Misuk tapped the table in front of him, jolting him to attention. “Can you run and grab us something to drink? I’m quite parched, and Y/n and I have much to catch up on.” 

Jeonghun’s lips stretched wide, his eyes glinting the same way Hoseok’s did when he smiled. “Of course! Anything for the ladies.” He jumped to his feet and paused just to Y/n’s side to put a firm hand on her shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Ducky. We definitely missed you around here.” 

Y/n was too focused on greeting him to notice the warning glare Misuk sent his way, completely wiping any remnants of it from her face by the time Y/n spun back in her seat to face her. An awkward yet tense silence surrounded them, Misuk’s smile had melted to something more stern and critical than it had been moments before. It made her feel uneasy, her hands fidgeting with he low hanging leaves of the floral centerpiece she had helped put together that very morning. 

“How have you guys been? I heard you two are practically retired–and I heard about the upcoming wedding! You guys must have your hands full…” Y/n scrambled to fill the stifling silence with anything she could think of, shooting off into a bunch of different rambles at once.

Misuk appeared to size Y/n up, each place her eyes landed feeling utterly exposed. She then sighed–a heavy one that held years of pent up thoughts and feelings all rolled up into one concise release. “Ah Yes. The wedding. We are very proud.” She sounded like she wanted to discuss anything else at the moment, and made it well known with the sharp look she gave Y/n. 

“Is something wrong? I know I’m not experienced with weddings and all of that–but I can always help with anything!” Y/n spoke too quickly, her anxiety sending her shooting off in a frenzy to appease the woman in front of her. “Really–anything. I work at the greenhouse now, so I can always help grow flowers or greens or whatever she’d–” 

“Y/n.” Misuk cut her off with another sigh, her dark brown eyes looking straight through her. 

Y/n gulped, her hands immediately clasped in her lap and her lips glued themselves shut. “Yes?” 

“I need you to listen to me, can you do that?”  Misuk gave her an expectant look, to which she returned with a submissive nod. “Good.” Misuk shifted in her seat to make herself more comfortable, her eyes boring into Y/n’s. “I know that you may think I don’t care for my son as much as I care about my daughter. But that simply isn’t true. I care for him very much–in ways you may never even know.” 

“Ma’am I don’t think–” 

“Let me speak.” She held a hand up, effectively silencing Y/n who had felt her shoulders hunching to cower away from her piercing stare. Misuk leant forward onto her elbows to follow after her internal retreat. “As I said. He is my son, and I love him more than anything else in this world. There are many things about him that you do not know–many things about this place that you do not understand. And as his mother I must step in when something threatens him.” 

“What is threatening him?” Y/n whispered across to her urgently, suddenly her subdued anger with him was forgotten for the present moment. The woman in front of her must know something about what was going on–undoubtedly so. 

“You.” Misuk pointed a dainty finger at her. “You are a threat to his safety. And I suggest that you keep your distance from him if you care for him.” 

The world tilted from beneath her feet, and the air was knocked from her lungs with such a leveled accusation. The ear piercing joy of playing children, the melodic laughter of mothers receiving flowers and gifts from their loved ones, or the booming jazz faded to the background. She didn’t even know what to say. Where had this come from? Shouldn’t she be the one telling his mother that Hoseok had left her for dead in the woods? Betrayed her not once–but twice? Lied to her face every day? 

Now she was angry again. 

“Me?” Y/n pointed a finger at herself, looking across the table at the older woman incredulously. 

“Yes you. So here is what is going to happen tonight Y/n.” Misuk brushed a few crumbs from the table thoughtlessly, then folded her hands over each other to give her that same authoritative stare. “When my son comes back with your food, you will have a few bites and then you will say that you feel sick. Upset stomach or whatever you decide. After that, you will return to your room, share your goodbyes–and then you must never speak to him again. Do you understand?” 

“I don’t–This doesn’t–” Y/n stuttered, blinded by both the overwhelming blues of sorrow and the fiery red of rage. “I don’t understand.” 

“It pains me to do this, but you must understand that my son comes first.” She reached her hand across the table to brush her fingertips across Y/n’s cheek, her eyes betraying her with a thin glossy sheen and her lips shaking with her words. “I had always thought you might’ve been my daughter one day, and I love you just as one despite that not becoming true. I wish you so many great things. But you must listen to me when I say that you can not see him any longer.” The brief glimpse of warmth and vulnerability vanished, and she turned stony once more. “Now do as I say. I will not repeat myself.” 

The back of Y/n’s eyes burned uncomfortably, and her vision blurred with tears. She tried to turn towards the stage to give her mind something else to focus on while she tried to blink them away, but she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the outline of a dark shadowy woman hovering merely inches from her face. Y/n blinked rapidly, withholding a gasp so as to not alert the woman next her who had also turned to enjoy the performance. 

The woman was gone as soon as Y/n had blinked away the salt from her eyes, and the world came into clear view. Her heart still pounded from both the jump scare and Misuk’s harsh demands that wavered so far from her character it made Y/n nauseous. Thankfully, her tablemate hadn't seemed to catch on to anything out of sorts–still looking as carefree and unbothered towards the stage as though nothing offbeat had occurred between them.

“I got us something to share. I couldn’t decide between the smash burgers or the waffled Ice cream sandwich–so I got both for us to split.” Hoseok giggled to her left, sliding into the seat where Candida had just stood and shoving a fork in his mouth to hold there while he opened the cardboard boxes. 

"Dessert already? You best be careful it doesn't mess with your stomach..." Misuk scolded her son from across the table, giving a disapproving shake of her head.

Hoseok spoke around the fork, his eyes glowing with excitement at the first box he had managed to open. "Eh. You only live once, am I right?"

Y/n couldn’t look at him when he spoke–the sight of him had tears make their reappearance from both a rise in her temper, and because it was just all too much. Jungkook’s withdrawal, Taehyung avoiding her, Jin and Hoseok’s betrayal, Candida, the hotel situation as a whole–she could feel the rational side of her brain losing its grip on her decision-making skills. She didn’t even have to take a few bites of food or put forth any effort for her final act. She just had to be honest. 

“I actually don’t feel very well. Headache. Probably from all of the noise.” Y/n mumbled around the acidic taste in her mouth, rising from her seat to leave him at the table so he wouldn’t see the tear that had already betrayed her hold. “I think I need to go lay down.” 

Hoseok furrowed his brow, removing the fork from his lips and discarding it in the box to rush after her. “Hey–Hey wait!” 

She didn’t listen. She kept on her blazing trail through the stalls, across the vibrant soft grass and under the barrier rope to start in a speed walk up the estate driveway. 

“Arrow or Tree, can one of you get someone?” Y/n whispered under her breath, hoping they were able to hear her request.

Hoseok called up after her, rapidly closing the distance between them. “Y/n–wait.”

Y/n heard the crunch of grass under heavy boots, and took it as a sign that one of the soldiers had heard her request, giving her some semblance of comfort. Still, she felt guilty for having to ruin her friend's good night and have them come be with her. 

“Y/n I’m serious. Did something happen?” Hoseok was almost to her side now, and she kept her head down to avoid looking at him any longer. If she did she would surly explode in a blaze of irrationality. 

Did something happen? Y/n wanted to laugh. What hadn’t happened since she’d come back. His feigned ignorance made her fury burn brighter. 

“Y/n–” 

“Enough, Hoseok!” Y/n whirled on him, pointing a shaking condemnatory finger at him. “Like you don’t know what’s going on.” 

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.” He paused, tilting his head to get a closer look at her face with his voice all the more soft.  “Are you crying?” 

She wished he would’ve yelled at her–laughed or sneered even–for his gentleness hurt more than his disdain ever could. It felt and sounded genuine for someone who had betrayed her so easily, further reminding her of just how heartless he must truly be. 

“Don’t.” Y/n held her hands up between them to further the distance. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” Hoseok scoffed, and she had to give him credit–he was putting on a good show of the confused and concerned friend. 

“That!” Y/n gesticulated to him wildly. “Acting like you don’t know what’s happening! When you know damn well what is wrong.” 

His face scrunched into bewilderment, taking a hesitant step closer to her. “I’m not acting! I don’t know what the fuck is going on!” 

“Ugh!” Y/n threw her hands up and pivoted on her heel to continue towards the estate. The gravel in her feet should have turned to dust beneath the pounding force of her step, and she imagined it did with each step to quell some of her rage before Jimin or Namjoon came to her aid and she lashed out at someone who didn’t deserve it. 

“Y/n can we talk about this?” Hoseok still followed after her, sounding as desperate and lost as she felt. 

Don’t do it. Y/n commanded herself, clenching her fists at her side so hard her knuckles discolored. 

“C’mon Y/n. Let’s just take a second to calm down.” 

Hold it together, you’re almost to the door. Y/n bit her tongue to keep herself from exploding on him right there and then. 

“I won’t know how to fix it unless you tell me. Don’t be this way.” 

“Hobi?” She whispered, her thoughts already resigning herself to being the last one standing besides the evidently struggling Jin. 

“Hmm?” Hoseok slurred, turning his head to gaze over her with red rimmed eyes from sleep, his head still laying flat against the entrance of his tent. 

“Are you awake?” 

She heard shuffling of cloth against canvas, and saw him pick his head up to look at her with hair that stuck up in all directions. “Yea.” 

Y/n giggled, he had clearly fallen asleep. “Do you think we will be friends forever?” 

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut as the memory replayed in her head against her will, spilling forth more hot tears down her cheeks and dripping onto the front of her dress. The sounds of their small voices and phantom crackling flame echoing through her mind like the ringing of cannon fire. 

“Of course I do.” Hoseok gave her the best serious face he could muster. “You can't get rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” 

Y/n smiled, letting her head fall onto her folded arms as they looked across from each other, Hoseok letting his head fall back against his arms to mime her position. Their faces cast with a dim yellow glow from the lantern and the moths that spotted its surface to throw shadows over the children. “Good. Because I want to do this forever and ever.” 

“Me too.” Hoseok sighed out, succumbing to the slumber he fought so hard to stay out of. 

“Please Y/n. Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’ve been acting strange?” Hoseok pleaded behind her, snapping the last of her restraint with an almost audible crack. 

She whipped around to face him, eyes blazing and teeth barred in a snarl. “I’ve been acting strange? Me?” Y/n laughed, cold and void of anything even remotely humorous. “What a load of shit coming from you.” 

This all felt far too familiar. A heated confrontation between the two of them on a night of celebration that was supposed to be something wonderful–but ending as anything but. Funny isn’t it, how life tends to cycle about in circles until one finds themselves exactly where they once were without having any idea how they had gotten there. 

All she had left to do now was lose the rest of her friends–which at this rate wouldn’t take very long. 

“Excuse me?” Hoseok jerked back from her, narrowing his eyes in her direction. “I haven’t done shit, yet you’ve been treating me like gum on the bottom of your shoe for the past week!” 

“Sure. Play clueless–but I’m not stupid, Hoseok Jung. And don’t you dare treat me like it!” Y/n’s voice grew more strained. 

“I’m not treating you like anything! For fuck’s sake Y/n–” He raked both hands through his hair. “Just calm down for a minute and then we can talk.” 

Y/n dug her heels into the gravel, a growl rumbling low in her chest. “This is talking. Do not tell me to calm down when you’ve been sneaking around with my mother of all people, and tattling on me to her whenever you get the chance. What do you get out of this Hoseok?” 

Hoseok visibly paled, his face taking on a ghostly appearance. “Y/n…” 

“No! You don’t get to talk right now.” Y/n seethed, letting her thirst for vengeance get the best of her. “If you don’t have the guts to tell me the truth–and the whole truth right this second then I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth. Not after what you did on Friday. Not after you betrayed me every single day with a smile on your face and a pep in your step like it was easy to string along someone that trusted you with everything.” Y/n took a staggering step back, blinded by saltwater and malice. “You stood idly by while my future and my dreams were ripped from me and didn’t say a goddamn word about it, nor did you stand up for me. Then when I finally have a chance to try and get it back–to have a fucking purpose in this life–you’re on the opposing side.” 

She watched him swallow, watched the way his eyes flew from one side to the other, and sweat speckled his brow that had formed a crease down the middle. But he did not say a word–and god was she fucking tired of everyone doing that. 

“I have been strangled, chased, haunted, hunted, and held down and threatened within an inch of my life–with all of it orchestrated by the side you’re on.  And you have the fucking nerve to ask if something happened? If you did something?” Y/n’s chest heaved, and she closed in on him until there was only a foot of space between them. “And gosh, how could I forget? When you and your buddy Seokjin left me to run for my life at the guest house on Friday while you two took a drive to who knows where.” 

His face twisted into something pained, eyes flashing with some mix of perplexed and minacious, then slow realization melted his features into something she could finally understand: Guilt. “Y/n–That wasn’t–” 

“What? It wasn’t what I think it was? Was it an accident?” She brought her face inches from his, gritting her words out through clenched teeth. “Bull. Shit.” He didn’t back off, it was actually quite the opposite, he stood his ground even if he looked like he wanted to flee far away from her. “I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry. I trusted you-” Her voice failed her and she blinked rapidly to try and gain control of it again. “And here your mother is telling me to stay away from you like you're not the one hurting me every single day. Well fine, If we are making threats then I’ll make one of my own.”

Y/n felt herself swell with passion, every inch of her body tingling with the power behind her words. “You can tell my mother and her army of damned souls that they can try to kill me as many times as they want to. Bring it on, I’ve gotten used to this shit. But if she so much as plucks a single hair on Yoongi’s head, touches Jimin like that again, or even looks at Namjoon or Jungkook the wrong way I will not hesitate to return the favor–by whatever means necessary. Because this place is mine, not hers. And as for you,” she forced him to maintain their eye contact each time he tried to look away. 

“You are a liar.” Y/n placed both hands on his chest and gave him a gentle shove back. “You are a traitor.” She gave him another push, this time hard enough to have him jolting back at the contact. “And you are not my friend." The words landed hard on both of them, shattering them to their core. "Do not ever talk to me again unless you plan to come clean–and don’t even think of lying because while my mother might have special tools, our side does too, and we will know if you do.” 

She went to give him another shove, but his hands encircled her wrists to stop her next attack. “Stop pushing me!” In an instant, his expression changed from desolate to urgent–borderline frantic in nature. “Y/n. You can be mad at me all you want–hell I guess I deserve it–but I need you to listen to me for just a second. There’s something–” 

“Are you going to tell me the entire truth? Everything you know? Swear to stop meeting with my mother?” Y/n silenced him, trying to wriggle her wrists from his hold. 

“It’s not that simple, Y/n. But if you would just give me–” 

“No. It is that simple. You picked the wrong side, and you can have fun sleeping with that at night for the rest of your life.” Y/n wrenched her arms from his hold and stormed off to the door, but he slid in front of her to cut off her path. 

“Just shut up and listen to me!” He grabbed her arms again and gave her a firm shake that jostled her head back and forth to an almost painful level. “How many times have you seen–” 

“Y/n! Hoseok!” Jimin came running up the gravel driveway with Jungkook in tow, kicking up clouds of dust from the stone path as they went. 

Hoseok curled his lip at the approaching figures but turned his attention back to her and spoke in a hushed urgency. “Hurry. How long has she been–” 

“Get off.” Jungkook put one hand on Hoseok’s shoulder and gave it a steady push, sending Hoseok stumbling back out of her space with a grunt. “You’re making her upset.” 

Jimin immediately came to her side to wrap a comforting arm around her waist, already steering her back towards the estate. Hoseok looked between the three of them with the utmost hopelessness, then settled into his fate. 

“Whatever. Fuck this.” Hoseok all but ran down the driveway, past the pop up tents and out the front gates without so much as a single look back. 

With the moment finally passed, the rage began to fizzle out to nothing but smoldering embers, the ashes that it left behind blanketing her insides with the first gut wrenching wave of heartbreak. 

“Let’s get you inside for a minute, hmm?” Jimin urged her up the steps, her body nothing more than a heavy case of flesh, completely numb from what had just transpired and the wound it left in her chest. 

Y/n already found herself choking back sobs by the top step, one of her hands coming up to muffle the sound while Jimin unlocked the front door. It hurt too much–overwhelmingly so. In a way that had her unresponsive to the dark lingering shadow that reflected next to her from the windows as they ascended the stairs, or the feeling of being watched making the hairs on her next rise to attention. 

She left the stuff he had bought her in the entranceway. He could keep it. 

They both walked alongside her, offering their presence for comfort. But that alone riddled her with guilt and shame for taking them away from such a good night. She just couldn’t stop ruining things for everyone. 

Jungkook opened the door of her room for everyone to file in, but this felt like the last place she wanted to be at the moment. It no longer held the status of a safe oasis, it was just four walls and a cold floor. 

“If you want to talk about it, feel free. If you don’t, no worries. Either way, just take a minute away from everything, okay?” Jimin guided her to her bed to sit, plopping down onto the mattress next to her. Jungkook stood in front of them, not knowing whether to sit on her other side or stay standing. Jimin looked up at him and snapped his fingers in his direction. “Sit. You’re hovering again.” 

Jungkook immediately did as told, his side pressing into hers so she was sandwiched between the two of them. 

The air weighed heavy on her, as did her carousel of emotions that kept rearing their ugly heads in a parading circle, one after the other. Fury. Grief. Heartbreak. Fear. Guilt. Fury. 

She was also missing out on a night she had spent weeks preparing for, and worst of all Namjoon had put his blood, sweat, and tears into this event only for her to barely be there. Though she wasn’t sure how she could possibly go back out knowing she could see him and his parents again. 

She brought her hands up to her face to hide the ugly shape it took when she thought of his face. Of the way he smelt of orange blossom, and leather; his bright smile, his laugh, dancing with him now in the golden empty ballroom, or decades prior when it nearly burst with guests and family; playing in the lawn, having secret sleepovers when he was her neighbor where they’d build some rickety fort  on her floor to hide in; playing card games at the dining room table for hours with him and his mother when he felt lonely. 

She wanted so badly for everything to work out differently. She missed him. The world had been cruel enough to give her a taste–a crumb of what had been–then take it away as punishment for exactly what she didn’t know. Suddenly it all felt too much, too overwhelming and too real. It felt like her world was burning to the ground around her and all of the water had dried up. Like there was no hope.

“It’s okay.” Jungkook whispered, cutting off her downward spiral with a strong hand over her knee. Jimin’s hand that still rested on her waist squeezed if just a little tighter. 

And that was enough. 

It didn’t fix anything by any means–but it gave her something. Something to springboard off in another direction. While she still felt hopeless, at least it was with them. 

_________________________________________

Y/n had gone back to the event with Jimin and Jungkook, the three of them finding Namjoon and spending the evening loitering around the vendors and enjoying the evening as well as she could with one of her hands always intertwined with Jimin’s. She hadn’t seen Hoseok or his parents, and that made it all the more easier to pretend that whatever had happened–hadn’t. At least just for a couple hours. 

She found herself four handmaid bouquets richer that evening, one from each of her friends and one that Jimin had made in honor of the soldiers who had requested to make her one as well. The scent of flowers smothering any and all of her other senses with how many had made their home in her room–not that she was mad about it. 

Y/n pat herself on the back for remembering to snatch a few extra sheets from the hall closet on her way back to her room, leaving them folded in the corner of her room to use as needed throughout the night. 

She intended to try and brave the night alone, though she knew that was quite the risky hill to die on after such a rotten day. She forced herself to follow some sort of a routine, changing and taking extra time for her skincare as a moment to herself. The mirror had now been completely shrouded with one of the spare sheets, so cleaning her face had to be done blindly by touch alone.

Y/n fully intended on doom scrolling or watching a movie on her laptop to muffle the noise in her mind and the heaviness in her heart, but her plans were stiffed when a phone call dropped down over the short video of a rather fluffy cat. It was from an unknown number, with no descriptors to give any hints as to who or where this call was from. 

She recalled Jimin saying that Bear had once given him a message via phone, and pondered whether or not that’s what this could be while she nibbled at her lip. After a moment of deliberation, she decided to let it go to voicemail. If it was anyone with anything important to say, they would surely leave a message for her to listen to that might persuade her to call them back. 

While she waited for the voicemail notification to pop up in her notifications, she continued scrolling through another cat related video, this one managing to bring even the slightest of smiles to her face. 

The voicemail icon popped down from above, and she immediately tapped on the play button to give it a whirl with an imaginary gavel in hand to delete it if the first few seconds weren’t satisfactory enough. 

“Hey. You already know who this is. Give me a call back when you’re able to at this number–had to get a temp phone to call.” 

Yoongi. 

It was fucking Yoongi. 

Her fingers nearly fell off with how fast she tapped the call back button, the line not even completing a full ring before he picked up. 

“That was fast. Miss me that much?” 

“What the fuck?” Y/n could cry again–and she almost did. 

“Hold the applause please.” She could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. “Really you’re too kind. Such a warm welcome after vanishing for nearly a week…” 

“No trust me I’m–” Y/n sat up abruptly, tossing her legs off the side of her bed to pace the sudden surge of energy she felt. “It’s really, really good to hear your voice.” 

“Hmmm I guess that’s acceptable enough.” The speaker crackled with one of his usual heavy sighs, his voice taking on a hint of more seriousness. “How have things been?” 

Y/n snorted, giving him a sigh of her own. “How long do you have? Last I tried to reach out to you I was told not to call again.” 

“That was my mother, not me–which, ballsy move by the way.” He chuckled on the other line. “I have approximately ninety minutes for this week's therapy session. They went out for a nice long walk that I gave some excuse of being too tired for. Ya’know, jet lag and whatever.” 

“I’ll give you a bulleted list and then you can choose what you want to dive into.” Y/n pressed a hand to her forehead and mentally pulled from her memory of the week. “For starters, we found Bear and he lives in a printer that we can’t get him out of. Second, we did a secret multi step operation to infiltrate the archives of the historical society, the basement, and my parents office–which is how we found out you were in South Korea to begin wits. Third, I got…” Y/n trailed off, unsure how to even describe her current predicament with Candida. “I got like…a potential attachment or something. I don’t know how to explain it. And, last but not least, Hoseok and I had a huge fight earlier this evening that I’m trying to pretend didn’t happen until it becomes so problematic that I crash out. I don’t know how long Jimin will let me keep it bottled up though…Him and Jungkook have been circling like motherly hawks.” Y/n managed to force a laugh from her throat that sounded all too painful. 

There was silence on the other line, followed by the rustle of fabric and a sharp intake of breath. “I really do miss everything, damn.” Another beat of quiet followed, and she could practically hear his gears turning to process everything she had said. “Jimin? Did things get figured out with him? I saw he was added to the group chat but none of it made sense to me.” 

Y/n slapped her own forehead with a gasp, “Oh my god yes! I forgot that was also while you were gone.” Yoongi scoffed out a quiet ‘go figure’, yet she continued onwards. “Yoongi you won’t believe it–he can talk to and hear ghosts and has been able to this whole time. Like since we were kids. Apparently my mother was using it against him to listen to him. Which is why he couldn’t say anything normally to me, but we’ve been able to get a pretty good protection system in place for him as far as we are aware.”  

There was a squeaky laugh from the other end, his voice coming through slightly bitter, but still lightened with jest. “Christ. That’s a lot. Wish I could’ve been there to see some of it.” 

“Well if you’d had been here we wouldn’t have done the operation at all for more information. We did it to find information about you.” Y/n slowed her pace to one that was more leisurely, suddenly feeling a bit shy at the confession, even if it was the honest and innocent truth. 

“Really? Even the kid?” 

“Yup. We were all really worried about you.” Y/n turned, passing the metal doorknob that glinted her reflection, showing it completely alone for once. She felt a wave of relief–though she still threw a sheet over it just to be safe and fanned it over the hinges to cover all of her bases. She couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t see her in any of the shining metal during her next pass by.

“That’s…Thanks.” Yoongi’s voice grew hoarse, and he cleared his throat to rid himself of it. “I guess that means you’re curious about why I’m even across the ocean right now.”

“Very much so.” Y/n responded eagerly. 

“I’ll tell you now–but don’t think I missed whatever that last part was about an attachment and Hoseok, I’m just letting you stew on it before jumping right in. I can tell it’s fucking with you a lot and we are only a couple minutes into the call.” 

“It is not!” Y/n shook her head even though he wouldn’t see it. “I’m managing very well for your information, Mr. Therapist.”

“Yeah whatever. Don’t waste your breath trying to sell me something I’m not buying.” Yoongi grunted out a breath, as though he had laid on his stomach and the pressure had pushed it forcefully from his mouth. “I’m here because your mother, as kind and lovely as ever, lied about there being a family emergency. Said my dad had an accident and I needed to leave right away. I didn’t catch on to it being a lie until I was thirty thousand feet over the state of Colorado.” 

Y/n curled her lip in disgust. “How could she lie about something like that? What did she think would happen once you got there?” 

“Exactly what happened when I got here. My mom was waiting for me at the airport and they took me back to their apartment near my cousin’s house to give me a good long lecture.” 

“A lecture about what?” Y/n kept her eyes towards the floor, watching one foot cross in front of the other along the perimeter of her rug like it was a balance beam. 

“About how they don’t want me to come back to the Estate.” 

Y/n tripped over her own foot, and used her elbow along the wall to brace herself upright. “What?! Why?” 

“Don’t get too worked up, I’m not a gold star rule follower, remember?” 

“I know but this is…” Y/n didn’t even know how to articulate her thoughts. This must mean that the other parents have to know what’s going on.  Mrs. Jung cornering her tonight and now this? 

“Serious, I know. They told me some things I think are important for us to discuss.” 

“Like what? Spit it out, I’m going to have an aneurysm soon with all of this suspense.” Y/n fanned herself to try and tame her rising cortisol levels. 

“My dad and I talked–really talked about why he was so anxious about me going to school for architecture and not sticking with general engineering. Turns out it wasn’t just him being insecure of being one of the more recent family additions–he was insecure because my parents and your parents got in a huge fight while I was in high school.” 

Y/n stopped her endless pacing and fell back onto her bed. “About what?” 

“I’m getting there–let me speak jeez.” Yoongi coughed away from the receiver before continuing on. “It was about my grandfather. Apparently your parents offered to pay to have his stuff moved to a private storage unit until they were able to emotionally handle going through all of it. A nice offer up front, until one day my mom went over to drop a few boxes off and found a bunch of his shit had just vanished–piles of his drawings they had wanted to frame, even some of his furniture and photos were gone too. All of his journals he kept the last few years of his life were missing too. Pieces of who he was, stolen with no reasoning.”

“Let me guess,” Y/n covered her face with one of her hands. “My mom.” 

“Sold to the emotionally constipated woman in the back!” 

Y/n laughed–a real one that made her cheeks warm and achy. “Thank you–really had to think for that one.” 

Yoongi laughed as well, and she could practically see him wet his lips in the momentary silence. “So your mother pillaged his stuff and when my parents confronted her, she lied and said she had no clue. My parents were pissed–and rightfully so–and it blew up into this big thing. Jin’s parents got involved, but my dad got real wishy washy about those details as soon as they entered the picture. There had apparently been threats of termination of employment tossed around but nothing substantial, and that’s when Yeongjin stepped in and had miraculously ‘found’ them in one of the basement rooms. 

My dad wanted to keep me out of it in order to secure me a good future, and when I decided to go with what was a more risky path in his eyes–he freaked. And while he pissed me off back then, I get it. He’s the first generation on both his parents’ side to have a secure job and comfortable life away from poverty and political strife, and whether or not he meant to, my grandfather subconsciously instilled that fear of instability into him that he just can’t shake. So if anything good has come out of this trip, it’s that we managed to patch that up for the most part. I didn’t get a full apology but I got an explanation and a long pat on the shoulder, so I’ll take that a win.” 

“Fuck. Every time I learn something about my mom I just…It’s like I’ve never even known her at all.” Y/n’s hand went to her neck on instinct to fiddle with the necklace that no longer sat there as she had done a million times this week, her fingers choosing to pick at the collar of her shirt instead. “I’m sorry Yoongi. What they did was…unforgivable.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for what they did–and I guess they worked it out since they were still friends afterwards. They don’t want me coming back for a different reason that may or may not be connected.”  

“Right. Did they give you a clear answer on that?” Y/n grabbed rolled onto her side and snatched one of her pillows into her arm to hold, tucking her chin over a particularly fluffy corner. 

“They did.” Yoongi paused, the line going fuzzy for a few beats. Then a loud noise ruptured her speaker against her ear, and she held the phone a few inches from her ear to soften the blow from what sounded like a sneeze. “Sorry.” 

Y/n brought the phone back to her ear, albeit with a few extra centimeters of space just in case. “Are you sick? Do you actually need to rest?” Y/n couldn’t help the worry that webbed through her voice with her question. 

“Oh…Maybe. It could be from the plane ride–23 hours in an airtight metal tube can expose you to a lot. I’ll get over it.” Yoongi dismissed her concerns away quickly, sounding if only a little flustered over her fussing. “Back to the topic at hand: They don’t want me coming back because of you.” 

Y/n squeezed her pillow tighter, the conversation taking an all too familiar turn to one she had had with Hoseok’s mom. Her throat closed in on itself, restricting any and all words she wanted to say–if she could even find them at all. Now another set of parents she had looked up to, spent nearly her entire childhood interacting with, had placed another wedge between them for reasons she didn’t know. 

Yoongi sensed her discomfort, as if his powers could travel across oceans and airways or through cell phone towers, and supplemented the lag in conversation with sincerity. “I’m not going to listen to them. It’s a fucking stupid reason.” 

“Maybe it isn’t so far off…” Y/n’s voice was much weaker than before, her eyes glassy and focused intently with the way the tag of her pillow slipped through her fingers. 

“Bullshit. It doesn’t make any sense. You haven’t done anything to warrant it.” 

Y/n swallowed painfully around the ball in her throat that lodged itself there. “Haven’t I? It seems like I must’ve done something.” Y/n released a shaky breath from her lips, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “Misuk said the same thing to me tonight. Cornered me and told me to stay away from Hoseok like he wasn’t the one who was doing all of the damage. Once is a coincidence. Twice, and I start to wonder what the common denominator is.” 

“It’s not you.” Yoongi vehemently shot down what she was implying. “Don’t do that. Don’t–” Any essence of humor or sarcasm had vanished from his tone, a genuine certainty taking over that almost sounded like he was scolding her. “Don’t let them do to you what they did to me.” He paused again, his words feeling heavy on his own tongue. “I won’t let them do that to you.” 

“But they already are.” Y/n whispered, one quick tear falling onto the comforter below her. “Jungkook is treating me differently for some reason. One second he’s fine then the next he’s not. Hoseok and Jin are out of the picture. Taehyung skirts around me like I have the plague. None of the parents have bothered to reach out to me. The only people who still seem to not mind being around me are Namjoon, and Jimin.” Y/n scrubbed the rest of the bubbling up liquid vigorously, then barked out a cold, muddy laugh. “Them and the fucking ghost that is attached to me by the hip.”

He spoke his next words carefully. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Candida. One of my great aunts. She’s around me at all times and Jungkook can’t see her. She hasn’t done anything but stand there, staring at me. She’s in my bathroom, in the greenhouse, in the dining room, the stairs, my room, my bed–” 

“Your bed?” 

Y/n licked her lips and cleared her throat of any further tears. “Yep. She could be in it with me right now for all I know.” 

“When did it start?” 

It was easier to tell someone what had happened in the ballroom when she couldn’t see their face, and could even humor the thought that she wasn’t talking to anyone at all when her conversation partner was so quiet and invisible. Y/n kept her eyes trained on her pillow and away from any potentially reflective surface as descriptions of her bulging reddish-gold eyes and gauntly face tumbled from her mouth, or the way her face had been so close to her own. 

As always, Yoongi listened closely, hanging on to every one of her words and only interrupting to ask clarifying questions when absolutely necessary. He made her feel safe in a way that was entirely unique to him. Y/n blamed it on his supernatural empathy, but it was more than that–it was just who he was. 

When she had finished her story, Yoongi didn’t linger on the details of it. Instead he switched topics to something entirely different: the spring pop up event. More particularly, what she had enjoyed about it and the work she had put into it, or about her time back at work.

She was halfway through a story of Namjoon purchasing a terrarium for their black widow spider that had become a permanent resident of their greenhouse when her eyes first started to itch with fatigue, taking an extra second to stall at the bottom of each blink. She got to the part where they planned to relocate her this coming week when Yoongi suddenly piped up, startling her eyes open. 

“You’re falling asleep.” He stated plainly, though he sounded like he had little intention of hanging up. 

Y/n smacked her lips a few times and shook her head lazily. “M’not.” 

“You can tell yourself that, but it took you ten seconds to slur out the word ‘terrarium’. You should get some rest–it’s past midnight there. I can see if we can call again tomorrow.” 

“No!” Y/n struggled to sit upright, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her hands. “I mean–yes I want to call you tomorrow.” Y/n risked a short examination from corner to corner of her room, still finding no sign of Candida. “I just don’t want to be alone again. It makes her feel closer. And I don’t want to bother Jimin…” 

“But bothering me is okay? I see how it is. ” Yoongi laughed warmly, the sound pleasant to her ears. “I guess you really did miss me.” She heard him exhale a breath that wreaked smugness. “I supposed I can stick around for a bit longer. Just until you fall asleep.�� 

“Thank you.” Y/n sounded out her gratitude through a yawn, crawling under her covers and pulling them up to her chin. “It shouldn’t take me very long at this rate.” 

“Don’t mention it. You can pay the international fee for it though.” A series of crackling pops and the swishing of fabric ensued, and Y/n suspected he was making himself comfortable for a nap of his own if his satisfied exhale was anything to go by. His voice strayed into softer territory, low and deep. “Goodnight Y/n.” 

“Goodnight Yoongi.” 

It didn’t take her long to fall asleep just as she had predicted. The continual fuzz of the phone line broken up by the occasional cough or sniffle from Yoongi was enough of an anchor to keep her mind from floating up and away from her. And the biggest perk in Y/n’s opinion (besides the speedy tumble into dreamland), was that it kept Candida away too–at least it felt like it.

_________________________________________

“You…Can you hear me?” 

“Please…I beg of you…” 

Y/n stirred at the sound of the voice, peering through a sliver of her eyelids out into her dark room. The dark room she found herself standing in, was not one with her overabundance of houseplants and flowers, but the downstairs ballroom that was completely void of any sign of life. Blankets of navy shadow cast long shapes that stretched across the tile like carpet, highlighted only by a silvery moon from the glass ceiling. Stars glittered down from above, and the moon was smiling down at her from an angle that told her it was much too late to be in the ballroom for any reasonable reason. 

This must be a dream, Y/n theorized, as the edges of tables and corners of walls felt too blotched, too messy and abstract to be real. 

“Please let me in. I must sing. She must hear me.” That same rattling wheeze of a voice sounded out, one that had Y/n’s blood running cold as ice. The voice that belonged to the beast. 

“No!” A new, much clearer voice responded. A cry of desperate resilience. 

Taehyung.

Y/n spotted the man curled into a crouch on the small platform used for musicians, hands clasped around his head to shield him from the voice of the beast. Bending over him like a loyal dog was the beast, looking as hideous and monstrous as the last time she had seen him, the same ichor pooling beneath his feet and creeping towards Taehyung. 

Y/n made a move to run to him, stretched her mouth to scream–but she could not move, and she could not produce a sound no matter how much power she put into the strenuous act of activating her vocal cords. 

The beast dragged one spindly finger down the back of Taehyung’s head and past his shoulder blades, letting it press in the center of his spine with little force. “I can make you an offer–name your price and I will do whatever is in my power to see it through.” The beast took in a long breath, the air passing through his airways like wind through a broken window. “Anything.” 

“I said no!” Taehyung croaked, shaking his head vigorously. “This isn’t real. This is just a dream.” He smacked the side of his head a few times with his palm, chanting under his breath. “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!” 

“This is but a dream, but it is also as real as the air you breathe and the heart that beats in your chest, boy. I am here now, in the ballroom. You will come find me.” The beast spat his words over Taehyung’s shuddering form, spewing black saliva to speckle over his hair and white sleep shirt. 

Taehyung lurched back, crawling across the floor towards where Y/n stood in the middle and stopping an arm's length in front of her. “The fuck I will. This is my mind, and my dream–not yours.” 

“Taehyung!” Y/n surprised even herself with the sound of her own voice blaring out in the quiet room like a siren. 

He whipped his head back to her with bulging eyes and heaving breath. “No. You’re not here either. This stupid ballroom–” 

“How nice of you to join us!” The beast leapt from the stage on all fours like a lion, his uneven shoulders that weighed him down like an overgrown sunflower making this the only ideal way to move about. “Is she with you even now? Oh please tell me she is…” 

He slinked closer to her, the top of his head coming up to her shoulders even while seated on his haunches. His eyes dribbled down his cheeks in a whitish pus as he leveled his foul smelling face to hers as though to look into her eyes with the ones he didn’t have. 

And then he smiled. The corners of his mouth rolling over themselves the way a snake's tail coils around itself, twisting his skin to stretch more than it should and even tearing in some places like wet newspaper. “Ah…she is. Just not here. Would you let me in too? Oh how I long to see her face just one more time.” 

He took a hand and circled his fingers around her chin to tilt it this way and that. His flesh felt bloated and mushy, boneless almost–though his grip remained strong. 

“Oh heavens!” The beast careened backwards slowly, his torso not strong enough to stop his topple backwards with a resounding smack against the tile that shook the floor. “Show me not that one–I do not wish to see that face!” The beast wailed out in harrowing sobs, blubbering incoherent words in a language she didn’t know with his head cradled in his two long hands. “Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de grâce, le Seigneur est avec vous.Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni…” 

Taehyung took his chance, scrambling onto his feet and snatching up her hand to tug her towards one of the sets of doors out into the hall. “Hurry! We need to get out of here!” They took the stairs two at a time and didn’t stop running until he had flung her into his room and locked his bedroom door behind him, throwing his back against it for good measure. 

“Taehyung? Is this a dream?” Y/n scoped out his room–it looked exactly as she had remembered it looking just the weekend before: cramped and covered in shades of burgundy. 

Taehyung looked at her, really looked at her, and all at once it felt too real. She could see the distinct shapes that the moonlight made when it reflected off his eyes, the hairs that stood up on his arms, and the walls of his room felt too solid. 

“Yes.” He panted, pushing past her to fall onto his bed with his face turned away from her. “Now leave. I would like to get some peaceful sleep tonight. As much as I like your company, this dream sucks.” 

“I don’t think this is a dream.” Y/n spoke slowly. “This feels too real.” 

Taehyung made a noise in his chest. “You’re telling me. Doctor calls them night terrors, though if I’m being real, I worry that sometimes I’m–” He stopped, laughing bitterly to himself. “Who am I kidding. You’re not even real. This is a dream.” 

“Why don’t we make a test to see if this is real or not?” Y/n offered, reclining backwards onto his bed next to him to get a look at his face. “Like a code word or something?” 

Taehyung popped his head over his arms to squint over the swell of his bicep at her. “I’m not supposed to humor my delusions.” 

“Not even when they’re of me?” Y/n fluttered her lashes at him with smirk. 

“Especially not you, pretty girl.” Taehyung laughed and blessed her with a small smile, propping his head on his hand to get an unrestricted view of her. “But what the hell–if it gets you to let me sleep, go ahead.” 

Y/n thought long and hard for what would be the best choice, losing herself into his chocolate brown eyes while she did so. She bit her lip, and could’ve sworn she felt the pressure of it like it was real. Taehyung watched her intently, face falling flat like he was keeping his distance both physically and emotionally. 

“You could almost have me thinking that this is all real with how hard you seem to be thinking.” He drawled out lowly, his voice rumbling in his chest. 

Y/n shrugged, scooching just a bit closer to him. “Because I am thinking hard.” 

He hummed, eyes tracking her encroaching face. “Looks like it.” 

“How about this: we each tell each other a secret that one else could possibly know.” Y/n kept their gazes locked as she spoke, his eyes mesmerizing under the moonlight. “I can go first if you like.” 

“Sounds reasonable.” Taehyung flattened his mouth and tipped his head to the side with nonchalance that bordering disinterest. He must really be convinced this wasn’t real… “Shoot.” 

Y/n realized that her going first meant she would actually have to come up with a secret first. She thumbed through her memories as though they were files in labeled filing cabinets–searching for one that she was certain she had told no one. Just as she was about to relinquish her efforts for something made up, something popped into her mind against her will, something that hurt more than ever to remember with today’s events fresh in her mind that had been so repressed deep in her subconscious she thought for a moment that it had been a dream. Images flashed in her mind of a humid and crowded dark closet and the smell of citrus and sage.

“Actually you go first. I’m scared.” Y/n hid her face behind her hands and out of his scrutinizing stare. 

“Okay fine. It’s not like this is going to go anywhere really.” Taehyung sighed, taking his own time to think of something. “My secret is that after our little group baking date in the kitchen, I started listening to that album you mentioned. The green one with all of the noises and synths.” 

“Charli?” Y/n giggled up at him in pure disbelief, her jaw dropping to her chest. “You? Listening to Charli?”

Taehyung blushed and tucked his face into his elbow to hide from her teasing. “You said share a secret, you didn’t say you would judge me for it.” 

“You’re right, you’re right.” Y/n held her hands up in surrender, her giggles dying down and the weight of her unearthed memory sobering her back up. “Alright, I haven’t ever told anyone this–ever.” 

“Figured with the criteria we set.” Taehyung playfully rolled his eyes, booping her nose with a wink. “Get on with it, pretty girl.” 

Heat rushed to her face like he had the secret ability to summon all of her blood in her body to one place with his words, but she pushed on. “When I was little–and I mean little–probably six? Maybe seven? All of us were playing a game of hide and seek…”

“And?” Taehyung urged, crossing his arms to rest his head on. 

“Go find a different spot!” Y/n whisper yelled from behind one of Mr. Kim’s long fleece coats. “I was here first!” 

Hoseok snapped his neck to look at her, dropping to his knees to dive under the coats. “I can’t! Jin is coming and I have no where else to go! Scoot over, ducky.” 

“Ugh. You’re so annoying.” Yet still Y/n made room for him, shimmying the coats around to cover them. 

“So are y-” 

“Shhh!” Y/n pressed her palm to his lips at the sound of Jin’s approaching footsteps, the two of them holding their breaths for good measure. They watched the shadow of his feet cross the bottom of the door before disappearing at the other end to continue into the ballroom. 

“Safe.” Y/n let out a sigh of relief, sending a cutting glare to the young boy next to her. “For now.” 

“I won’t give us away!” He stuck his tongue out at her and rolled his eyes. 

Y/n stuck her tongue back out at him. “Uh huh–sure you won’t. I be you won’t even be able to stay quiet for longer than twenty seconds.” 

Out of spite, he proved her wrong, keeping his lips pressed together in a hard line. Y/n counted to twenty in her head, and even further–getting all the way until forty before he cracked.

“Okay, now I’m bored.” 

“I knew it.” Y/n shook her head with the air of an old disappointed woman. “Should’ve known not to hide within a hundred thousand feet of you.” 

A hush fell over them when they tracked Jin’s steps past the door, listening to the heavy groan of the wooden stairs above their heads. When Y/n turned to look at Hoseok, he had a strange expression on his face, one he only wore when deep in thought about something. 

“Y/n, can I ask you something?” 

“You already did, dummy.” Y/n laughed at the frown that graced his lips and caused them to protrude from his face, adding a quick: “Quick before he comes back.” 

“Have you ever wondered what it’s like to kiss somebody?” 

Hoseok’s innocent question stayed stagnant between them, while Y/n thought of her own answer. Truth is she had, but she was much too little (as her parents told her) to think of anything like that. It was wrong. 

“Sometimes.” Y/n shrugged, busying herself with a scab on her knee that she had earned on the playground of the hotel. 

“Me too.” Hoseok shuffled onto his knees, looking across from her in the dark closet. “Do you want to try it? You don’t have to…” 

“With you?” Y/n furrowed her brows, though it only took her a few seconds to think it through. “I guess that would make sense. We are both friends, and my mom calls my dad her best friend. But my aunt told me that if I ever was to kiss anyone, that we both have to say yes. Do you say yes, Hoseok?” 

“I do.” He nodded vigorously, scooching forward so their knees were touching. “Do you say yes?” 

“I say yes.” Y/n put both hands on his shoulders stiffly with her elbows locked, and the two of them stared at one another for a lengthy stretch of time, both unsure of what they were supposed to do next. Y/n scrunched her nose up again and looked to him for help. “I don’t know how to kiss someone.” 

“Me neither. I guess we just…do it.” Hoseok twitched his head to the side in a nervous tick. 

Y/n nodded with the utmost seriousness, eyes glinting with determination. “Okay.” 

Quickly, she brought their mouths together in the smallest, clumsiest of kisses that had their noses pressing awkwardly against each other for the brief half second that their mouths touched. Simultaneously, the two of them fell apart from each other with mirrored exclamations of disgust. 

“Ew! It was wet!” Y/n wiped her mouth aggressively on her shirt sleeve. 

“Blegh!” Hoseok shivered and made a face of equal dissatisfaction. “I didn’t like that at all.” 

Y/n wiped her mouth again on Mr. Kim’s coat for good measure.  “At least we know now that kissing is gross and yucky.” 

“Yeah. Or maybe it’s just you that’s gross.” Hoseok gave her a suspicious side eye that had her bristling with offence. 

“Nuh uh!” Y/n’s was yelling now, unable to realize her volume had grown so loud. “You’re the yucky one! Boys are yucky!” 

“Got cha!” 

Hoseok and Y/n screamed at Jin’s entrance, Hoseok nearly tumbling down the stairs behind him with the sudden gust of wind from the door. 

“Now help me find Jungkook. I’m looking to beat my hide and seek record.” Jin grinned down at them, his smile missing one of his teeth that he had lost earlier that day. When neither of them moved to follow him, he waved at them with irritation. “Come on!” 

They hurried after him, one shared look being the only thing they needed to both agree to never speak of what had transpired again.

“Huh. I always wondered if he had a thing for you, but I guess not with such a wild reaction.” Taehyung clicked his tongue, a wicked glint taking over his distant one. “I can’t imagine getting to kiss you and being upset by it.” 

“Oh shut up you big flirt.” Y/n smacked his forearm with an ever growing blush. “Well now that we’ve shared our secrets, I’m ready for this dream to end.” 

“I second that.” Taehyung nodded, grinning down at her warmly. “Sleep tight, dream Y/n.” 

“You too, dream Tae.” Y/n chuckled, letting her eyes close–not bothering to return to her own room. It was a dream after all, there would be no need to go anywhere until her next dream took over, or she rose when the sun got too bright or her bed too hot. 

Doubt flowed through her mind, of only for just another split second, when his breathing sounding too close, and the warmth from his puffs of breath that cascaded down her forearm from his nose felt as real as if she were truly laying there. She could even smell his tooth paste from this distance…

The last of her thoughts before she drifted off for the second time was overcome with one single question, set off by the spearmint and bergamot that surrounded her within his room: Since when had she ever been able to smell in her dreams before? 

His bedroom door inched open to the dark and empty hall. “ Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de grâce,le Seigneur est avec vous…” From down the hall Y/n could hear the wheezes of tired and broken lungs encroaching on their peace. Weighted meaty claws thumped against the rug, dragging the heavy body of the beast to close in on them. “Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni…” His melted eyes loomed just by the door with only his head visible while he watched them drift. 

Y/n’s own door opened in a swinging rush, spilling light across the floors and onto Taehyung’s bed from the bathroom light she had left on to illuminate her way through the night. Candida’s bare feet padded into the light from the direction of her bed, her golden eyes glowing from her dark outline like beacons that shined down on the beast. 

His body convulsed with a sob, collapsing to the floor at her feet with his hands held in prayer up to her pitifully. “Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu, priez pour nous, pauvres pécheurs, maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort. Amen” 

Instead of looking down at him, Candida stared over his body to where Y/n lay immobile on Taehyung’s bed. Her mouth fell open to utter her first comprehensible word in the days she had known her, scraping through her lips in a hiss.

“Unacceptable.” 

 _________________________________________

Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de grâce, le Seigneur est avec vous. Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni. Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu, priez pour nous, pauvres pécheurs, maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort. Amen:

Translation: Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Next chapter

taglist: @kokoandkookie @rkive-joonie @singdancedreampray @erescheesemelted

[the-djarin-clan]

When you look for a fic on Tag Reader and the main character already has a name and social security number...

[nvrngl]

˚ · .˚ ༘ 𝟐𝟕𝐁

synopsis. your front door neighbor's cat has a habit to sneak into your balcony. today, however, he takes it a step further.

pairing. bts ﹢ jimin x reader ﹢ slice of life ; non-idol au

wordcount. 962

warnings. partial nudity, embarrassment-induced stammering ( like girl, get a grip!! ), flirty awkwardness, one very judgmental kitty cat

You barely know the guy in 27B.

Just the soft-eyed boy with pastel hair and an apologetic smile you’ve exchanged maybe six words with, total. The one you pass in the stairwell sometimes, each of you lugging groceries or buried in your phones or trying very hard to not make eye contact after one of those “both reaching for the elevator button at the same time” situations.

But you know his cat. You know him very well.

It started about a month ago — a lazy Sunday, sun warming the cracked tiles of your tiny balcony, when a little cloud of fur padded over from next door and sat square in the middle of your doormat like he paid rent. Just... plop. Like he belonged there. Like you were the guest.

You didn’t even know 27B had a cat. But this one — round-faced, lilac-cream puffball with a crooked tail and the most judgmental yellow eyes you’ve ever seen — was apparently a regular.

It became a thing. You’d leave the balcony door cracked open when the weather was nice. Sometimes he’d visit, sometimes he’d just stare from across the rail like some kind of feline gargoyle, silently monitoring your movements. Once, you tried offering him a treat. He sniffed it and walked away. Brutal.

But today?

Today he goes full send.

You’re curled up on the couch with a mug of lukewarm tea, cozy under a ratty blanket and halfway through a fantasy romance with a broody sword-wielding himbo, when you hear the faintest thump.

You glance up.

The cat — his cat — is in your living room.

You blink.

He blinks back.

“Excuse me?” you say, like he’s a burglar.

He yawns, hops onto the armrest, and promptly makes himself at home on your lap.

You freeze, book midair. “You can’t just— This is illegal.”

But he starts purring. Loudly.

You melt like butter in July.

Though, you're not really a cat gal. So, five minutes later, you’re standing in front of 27B with a slightly smug cat in your arms and your entire soul in disarray. You can hear faint music through the door — something poppy and low, the kind of music that smells like vanilla candles and expensive cologne.

You hesitate. But then you ring the bell.

Ding-dong.

Nothing.

You shift the cat (he’s heavy), try again. Still nothing.

Then— clunk.

Something inside falls over. A crash. A very distinct “ow.” And then, footsteps — fast and scrambling, followed by a panicked thud like someone slipped on hardwood and possibly died.

You panic in sympathy. “Oh my god— Are you okay?!”

A muffled voice groans something unintelligible.

Then… the door opens.

Park Jimin — 27B himself — stands in the frame, breathless, flushed pink, and wearing nothing but a towel.

A towel.

White. Fluffy. Barely hanging on.

Your brain promptly shuts down.

“I—Hi—I mean—uh—sorry,” you stammer, immediately looking everywhere but at his chest. “I—your cat—he—uh—he’s in my apartment—no, was, he was, but now—he’s here—uh—” You hold the feline out like an offering. “He came in. Through the balcony. He—uh. Hi.”

Jimin blinks, dazed.

Then he smiles.

It’s soft and sheepish and crooked with embarrassment, like he can’t believe this is happening either.

“Oh my god,” he says, voice husky from what you can only assume was a very recent shower. “Mochi, you little traitor.”

You glance down at the cat. Mochi? Of course his name is Mochi. That’s illegal levels of cute.

“He, um.” You clear your throat, still not looking directly at Jimin. “He walked in like he owned the place. I think he judged my book choice.”

“That sounds like him,” Jimin says, laughing now — a soft, belly-deep sound that makes your face flame. “He usually just patrols the balcony. I didn’t think he’d actually break in.”

“He didn’t even knock.”

“Well, he’s rude like that.”

You both smile. You’re still holding the cat like an offering to the gods.

Jimin steps back. “You can come in—if you want. I’ll—just—uh.” He gestures vaguely at his towel, mortified.

You shake your head way too fast. “No! I mean—no, it’s okay! I just wanted to, um, return the criminal.”

He leans forward and gently scoops Mochi into his arms — and yeah, he’s definitely still damp. His skin is flushed and glowy and everything smells like jasmine shampoo and cozy domestic heartbreak.

“Thanks,” he says softly. “For bringing him back.”

You shrug, struggling to look chill while the inside of your skull is on fire. “He’s good company. Kinda snobby. But, like, in a charming way.”

Jimin grins. “That’s how most people describe me too.”

You actually laugh — high and breathless. “Well, you did answer the door in a towel, so.”

“I slipped on my conditioner bottle,” he says gravely. “Risked my life for this interaction.”

“You’re a hero.”

He lifts a hand in salute, still holding the cat. “It’s what I do.”

There’s a pause.

You’re still hovering in his doorway like a confused delivery girl.

He looks at you. You look at your feet.

Then he clears his throat. “Um. If Mochi invades your apartment again, maybe you could… let him? He likes you, apparently.”

Your stomach does a weird swoop.

“Sure,” you say, trying not to sound like a teenager with a diary full of bubble letters. “He’s… welcome anytime.”

Jimin nods, biting back a smile. Even Mochi’s sure you’re not refering to him.

You take a cautious step back. “Okay, um. Goodnight, Jimin.”

“I’ll see you around.”

The door clicks shut.

You stand there for a second. Just… recalibrating your brain. Then you turn around, walk back to your apartment, and immediately collapse face-first into your couch.

Mochi’s fur is still on your blanket.

Your heart is still not okay.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ navigation : all works ; guidelines ; let's be friends .ᐟ

[wannaghostbts]

I think that we could last forever!~

I'm afraid that everything will disappear!~

Just trust me!~

Trees That Wheep Masterlist

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Word Count: 132.5k (ONGOING) Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart.

Wheep or wheeple- Verb- (of a bird) to whistle weakly.

Series: I: Blessed Under Moonlight II: A Rock and A Secret III: Harboring a Fugitive IV: Litha V: Sacrificial Lamb VI: Beside Him VII: Growing Pains VIII: A Murder IX: Landscapes X: The Beyond XI: Following Rivers XII: All in Blue

To be continued…

The Lost Chapters: Holiday Drabble: Solstice 3.5: When She Sees Me (Jimin’s pov)

Extras: The Encyclopedia Map of Lustra A Map of Foxglove Playlist The Moodboards

Cross posted on ao3: Here

[lex1i0]

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— 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}

[7ndipity]

Their Crush Likes Them Back

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: What would happen if the members were so deep in their belief that their crush is one-sided that they're oblivious to the fact that the feeling is very much mutual

Warnings: lil angst, suggestive, swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! This honestly was so fun to write, and really helped me beat back my writer's block. I hope y���all like it! Based on this post

Masterlist

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Jin:

He’s been so focused on trying to hide his feelings and just being a good friend to you, that he doesn’t realize that you’ve not only caught onto his feelings, but that you’re also very into him and are actively flirting with him😫

You keep trying to subtly tip him off, giving him extra compliments and calling him petnames that make his ears turn bright red, but he just keeps brushing it off as you’re just being a really sweet friend.

You even tried triggering his jealous streak in an attempt to get him to speak up, like “If they’re not good enough, then who is, hmmm!?” but it always just ends with him mumbling something you can’t understand and him driving you home in frustrated silence.

It’s after one of these such nights that you end up blurting out your own feelings, since he won’t do it! 

When you finally tell him how you feel, he just sits there for a solid minute completely dumbfounded before managing to speak. “...are you sure? Like you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” “ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!”

Honestly not that much changes after you’ve talked everything out and made things official, at least at first. He’s very gradual in his shift into ‘boyfriend mode’, starting with smaller but sweet gestures like bringing you flowers.

The one thing that changes immediately tho is he now holds your hand/arm/waist everywhere you go. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he has to be holding onto you. You’re the most valuable thing in the world to him, and now that he has you, there’s no way he’s letting you go.

Yoongi:

As good as Yoongi is at hiding his feelings, you're the complete opposite, showering him with compliments and praise at every opportunity, turning him into the shyest lil meow meow, but you can’t help it, he deserves to know how amazing he is

You know you’re one of the only people that he feels fully comfortable being vulnerable and open with, which is why it hurts so much when he pulls away or gives the silent treatment after fights or gets too into his own head. 

This leads to more than a few arguments between you where you all but spell out how you feel about him, but he somehow still manages to twist it around in his head to be platonic.

It becomes abundantly clear that anything short of straight up kissing him on the mouth is just gonna be met with ‘oh, they didn’t mean it like that.’ Like mf I said you were ideal husband material! Get your head out of your ass!

When you finally do get him to understand that you like him, he gets soo quiet(you know that lil confused look he does where his eyes just go everywhere? that) like Yoongi.exe has stopped working, please reboot.

Once he’s had time to process and y’all talk everything out, he becomes the softest and most dedicated boy. Liike, now that he can actually show his feelings, he’s a fucking SIMP, constantly surprising you with little gifts and gestures, and just always staring at you with the softest heart eyes.

Hobi:

Very much like Jin in that he’s soo focused on being a good friend and not making you uncomfortable that he somehow misses how you’re very much simping over the man. Like it’s not even subtle, you’re always looking at him with literal stars in your eyes.

He tends to mirror your energy/behavior to match your vibe tho, which becomes a bit problematic bc you end up acting a lot more ‘couple-y’ than either of you initially realize. Like, it’s totally normal for him to snuggle and kiss you on the cheek, pay no mind to the fact that he doesn’t do it with anyone else but you.

(Jungkook thinks it’s hilarious tbh and keeps finding ways to put you two in forced proximity situations in the hopes that y’all will finally get a fucking hint and confess already!)

He kinda realizes he’s pushing the boundaries of what’s ‘okay’ for just friends, but he can’t help but be selfish when it comes to you, wanting to be as close to you as possible, even if he thinks it will never go anywhere, not realizing that you’re doing the exact same thing.

When you finally talk to him one night about how you actually feel, he doesn’t even think and just tackles you, kissing you until you both forget how to breathe

Instantly the most devoted boyfriend in the world. Texts you constantly, brings you flowers for every date or snacks when you hangout at each other's places. He kisses you constantly, always mumbling about “making up for lost time” when you tease him about it.

Namjoon:

I totally see this happening to him tbh. Like as in tune as he can be sometimes, he’s kinda oblivious when it comes to your relationship, even if it’s obvious to everyone else in your friend group..

He never really questions why you always happen to be free when he wants to hangout, or the fact that you always answer his texts regardless of the time of day/night.

What he does see however is how much it hurts you when he tries to pull away when he starts to get too into his own head about everything, making his will crumble almost immediately and coming back to you soo apologetic.

He doesn’t understand why you’re always so forgiving and willing to stick beside him through everything, no matter how many times you tell him it’s because you love him

I see telling him how you actually feel going one or two ways: you sitting him down and talking everything out super calm and maturely. or-

You blurting it out in the heat of the moment during a fight, resulting in a brief stunned silence and then you getting pinned to the nearest surface and kissing each other till you can’t breathe and then dragging each other to the bedroom…

You don’t really address it anymore after that night, you’re just dating now and thats it. (Tho, you may have forgotten to notify the rest of your friend group and so they don’t realize you’re together until you kiss him goodbye in front of them and Hobi drops glass in shock, lol)

Jimin:

It would be almost funny how oblivious he is, if it weren’t soo fucking frustating.

Like usually he’s the one flirting up a storm, flustering and confusing people left and right, but with you he’s turned into a complete mess, trying(and failing) to hide how shy and blushy you make him with just the smallest gestures.

Which you would think would help the two of you to realize that you’re both into each other, but nope, you’re just dancing around the obvious and driving everyone else in your friend group insane(Tae and Yoongi have a bet on who will actually make the first move)

Like he notices some of the little cues that you’ve been dropping that you might be into him too, but he honestly just feels like he’s imagining things because that’s what he wants to happen

(tbh he thinks you’re trying to kill him with how close and touchy you get sometimes because he wants to kiss you soo fucking bad)

When you finally get the courage to tell him, it’s quiet and intimate, at one of your apartments in the middle of the night while you’re laying on the couch or bed together talking about whatever, and he goes so still and quiet for minute you think he fell asleep or something before he suddenly rolls on top of you, grinning like an idiot and wrapping you up in the tightest hug ever and kissing you breathless.

You two dating isn’t that much different than when you were just friends except you’re somehow EVEN MORE CLINGY with each other(who knew that was even possible?! lol) constantly touching or holding onto each other or stealing kisses when you think no one’s looking

Taehyung:

Honestly? He’s lowkey aware of your flirty behavior, but he keeps trying to brush it off as “they’re just being cute” because he doesn’t want to accidentally misread things and fuck things up between you by trying to make a move that’s not wanted.

Nevermind the fact that you are very openly making your interests known. Like there’s nothing to misread here my dude, everyone and their grandma can see that I am absolutely smitten with you.

Notices your more jealous/clingy moments, but doesn’t quite recognize them for what they are or the reason for them. All he knows is that you’re hanging onto his arm and giving him attention, which he soaks up like the happiest lil sponge. Who cares if you’re a little overprotective of him? He thinks it’s cute.

Similar to Hobi in that he worries sometimes that he’s overstepping what’s okay for just friends for his own benefit, even though multiple friends have pointed out that you were actively initiating those moments with him too, it’s not just a one-sided thing

He fully refuses to believe it tho until one night as he’s walking you home and you admit to him that you wished that he was your boyfriend. He turns into the smiliest bean ever at your confession, latching onto you like a giant koala bear and refusing to let go for the rest of the night as you talk and share how you’ve both really been feeling.

Instantly shifts into teddybear boyfriend mode, super cuddly and calling you every petname he can think of. He jokes that he’s just catching up on all the stuff that you missed out on before, but he’s lowkey always been like this with you, he’s just free to finally give into those impulses and kiss you anytime he wants😊

Jungkook:

God bless this boy, he’s soo fucking blind it’s absolutely infuriating

Like neither of you are exactly subtle about your feelings towards each other, but he somehow always manages to miss your hints or flirtations. Like you could be walking around wearing a neon sign that says “I’m in love with you” and he would just be like “oh cool necklace Y/n!”😑

He notices how you tend to stick close to him whenever the two of you hangout together, which he loves, but somehow he misses the gooey-eyed looks you keep giving him.

He also doesn’t realize that one of the only reasons you put up with his possessiveness is because you keep hoping that he’ll fess up and admit his feelings, but he never does, always backing off at the last moment because he’s terrified of fucking things up with you.

Meanwhile you’re practically beating your head against the wall because he’s driving you insane.

Man literally doesn’t catch on fully until you grab him by the face and kiss him one night after an argument, freezing in shock for half a minute before reciprocating very enthusiastically.(everyone immediately knows what happened the next day tho because you’re both fucking covered in hickeys like 👀)

Refuses to leave your side from that point on, he’s now your personal bodyguard/house husband/assistant/ etc. Anything you need, he’s on it immediately. Always finding little excuses to touch you until you point out that he doesn’t actually need a reason anymore, and then he’s just touching/kissing you every time you’re in arms reach

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er

[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.