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Angel | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences.

☾ Word Count: 15,551

☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end.

☾ Published: September 3, 2023

☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist

Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.

She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.

Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night.

Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it.

Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property. Let’s try to play nice and show face.

Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do.

Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl.

“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.”

“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.

“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”

Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway.

It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.

Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.

Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts.

Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer.

They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right.

Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him.

“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”

“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”

“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.”

“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”

“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”

“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.”

Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.”

A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound.

Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.

When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.

People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top.

The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well.

Old Yoongi might not be so impressed.

Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom.

The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely.

Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.

Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck.

Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone.

Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal.

Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house.

Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced.

Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly.

Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.

Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.

Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses.

His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel.

Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.

The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops.

At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning.

Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients.

It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store.

“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”

“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”

“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”

“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time.

“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

“Mhmm.”

His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes.

Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in.

Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required.

In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm.

Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.

Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you.

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space.

He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too.

It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work.

Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms.

With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room.

Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time.

“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh.

You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back.

Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you.

“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.

“Mhmm. Just a long night.”

“You smell like perfume.”

“Hmm?”

“Like peaches.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Interesting.”

“Not particularly.”

He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”

Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.”

“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.”

Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for.

Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning.

“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”

“Are you a foot person?”

“What if I was?”

You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”

Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability.

You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly.

So he does.

Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly.

Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you.

His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds.

Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees.

He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no.

Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs.

Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead.

Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it.

Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.

When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.

This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to.

There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.”

“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.”

He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.”

A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.”

Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair.

The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.

Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.”

He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.

When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.

Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful.

“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough.

The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.

“You don’t-”

“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck yeah, Angel.”

Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him.

Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him.

“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.

“Give it to me.”

One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching.

Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home.

A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier.

Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.

The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.

Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything.

There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.

You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love.

Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day.

“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”

“I’d sleep in them anyway.”

“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”

“Meh.”

“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”

“Huh. So you are jealous.”

“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.”

Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.

Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake.

When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be.

You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time.

Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.

The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.

A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.

“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.

Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.”

With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.

Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it.

Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth.

You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have.

As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to.

Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself.

At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.

If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters.

It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself.

And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now.

The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him.

After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner.

You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers.

Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile.

Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head.

The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin.

At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator.

It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly.

Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.

While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.

Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away.

Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning.

Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.

Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.

You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip.

He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement.

Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left.

Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt.

Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen.

The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something.

A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss.

“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”

You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle.

Money. This man has money.

Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately.

The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either.

The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.

If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.

“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”

“Well said.”

Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.

“Do you know where we are?”

You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”

He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”

“You asked a question.”

“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”

“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”

He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.”

Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.

“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”

“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”

You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”

“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”

“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”

“To get their cock sucked, usually.”

Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.

Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder.

“I will fucking kill you.”

There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.

You need to be valuable. And fast.

“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.”

Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”

“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.”

“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”

“One way to find out, right?”

Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.

Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen.

Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.

Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life.

You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.

It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is.

Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”

You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”

“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”

“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”

“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”

“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”

This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.”

“Okay.”

His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“See you soon.”

Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat.

When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood.

Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin.

All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?

Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe?

Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi.

“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.”

It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting.

“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”

“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”

“He told you where they were?”

“No, she did.”

Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”

“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”

“In front of-”

“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”

“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”

“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”

Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”

An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.

I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead?

In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated.

None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again.

Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.

You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.

It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost.

You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm.

At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have.

Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage.

It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it.

You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live.

The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.

You’re not sure if it’s that simple.

It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.

Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off.

Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.

A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried.

When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined.

Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.

His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety.

Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.

Click. Squeeze. Bang.

You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand.

A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.

Squeeze. Bang.

It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels.

Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified.

“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!”

“That’s it, keep talking to me.”

It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!”

Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-

Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.

Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths.

“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.”

“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?”

“I don’t-”

“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place.

Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”

You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather.

When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off.

“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun.

“Yes.”

“Then why-”

“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”

“Okay.”

“Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”

A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you.

It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.

Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home.

Home.

The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare.

Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now.

Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only.

The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense.

So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this.

Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling.

The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.

“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”

“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”

“Give me five.”

When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching.

Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk.

Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs.

Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.

You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle.

Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.

He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him.

When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.

He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver.

Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw.

Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good.

One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good.

Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you.

Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.

“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking.

He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Hmmm.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.”

“Fuck.”

He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little.

“Fuck yeah.”

You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself.

“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.

“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.”

“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”

“You do.”

“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.”

The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”

“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.”

“Mmm.”

The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying.

He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”

“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”

Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock.

Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad.

Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity.

“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?”

“Fuuuuck yeah.”

His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.”

“Shit shit shit shit.”

You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it.

The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin.

For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest.

“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”

You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”

He pauses. “What?”

“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.”

“Then why stay there?”

You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”

“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”

“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”

He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.”

3K notes · View notes

agusfree · 4 months ago

Text

MOONCHILD 🌙 20

SUMMARY: Soulmates are a common thing. Everyone has one. Some people think soulmates are the greatest gift fate could give, others are envious about happy couples that were lucky enough to receive a wonderful partner. One of them was Min Yoongi. Your time to meet your significant other hasn’t come yet, stumbling into the tattoo parlor with a simple idea in mind, not knowing that you will be bound to step by more often. When you leave for the first time, you’ll go home with your masterpiece of a tattoo.

When you leave for the second time, you’ll go home with not only one, but two soulmates.

The man that was supposed to be your only soulmate, the one that never wanted to tell you that he woke up with the exact same koi karp tattoo just sits and watches - until he can’t take the pain anymore.

GENRE: Soulmate!Au

PAIRINGS: Y/N x Taehyung x Jungkook x Namjoon x Jimin x Yoongi and finally x Hoseok x Seokjin.

WORD COUNT: 12,7k

WARNINGS: emotional talk, this is basically the end so what are you expecting, this is pure fluff and love

NOTES: i'm so sad to now publish the last chapter of moonchild. it has been around two years now since @becomingbts and i started this adventure and we both got so emotional attached to our characters that it's so hard to let them go. i can't thank you guys enough for keeping up with this fic, for giving us ideas and motivation to continue writing. i'm a sap but i'm bad with feelings, so i'll stop at this point. just know that we really appreciate our time with you.

and thank you too, dolly. ily.

BUT WHAT I'M GOOD AT is announcing news. big news. dolly and i are continuing our work together, we created a whole new tumblr account just for our fics - and the next one is already planned! YOU CAN FIND IT HERE. but please be aware that we will need some weeks or even months to come up with our characters and plot! a quick spoiler: 🐈🐇 please keep in mind that this isn't goodbye, at least not for too long.

“How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?”

Taehyung has been repeating the same question over and over again for the past couple of minutes, sitting next to you and trying to calm you down with gentle touches and kisses.

But how are you supposed to answer such a question if you don’t feel anything? You’ve felt the uncomfortable feeling of one of your mates finding another soulmate, but your feelings? Not there.

So you just don’t answer.

“It’s okay to be mad at Yoongi, you know. It’s not fair of him to just go out and kiss Hoseok like that,” Taehyung coos as he pulls you on top of his lap and hugs you tightly. It’s endearing, really. Him being worried, even though Taehyung should be feeling off as well. Maybe he is feeling off, but your feelings are more important to him than his own.

You sigh, placing your head in the crook of his neck and breathe the calming scent of his warm skin. You’re not sure how you feel; so many things are going through your head, it doesn’t help that everyone is so agitated in the bond. You know that the anger that you can almost taste is not yours but somehow, it affects you as well.

“I feel bad because I’m not mad. Does that make sense? I probably should be jealous, should be angry, but I just can’t. Yoongi deserves it, he’s been in such a bad mental state before he had all of us and now think about how long it took him to open up for us and trust us,” you look up to see Taehyung staring at you with a thoughtful look in his eyes, “at the same time, I feel empty, like something is wrong.”

He hums, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I can’t lie to you, I know what you’re talking about when you say that you feel a bit empty because I feel it too. Though, I’m glad that this is not the only thing you can feel and that you’re seeing it from another point of view too, love. Yoongi deserves all the love he can get, I’m proud of you for thinking that way. Don’t hold back, though, I know that it cannot be easy. I can feel how upset Jungkook is about it, it’s hard not to let his own anger overwhelm us, but our bun just needs to realize that Yoongi won’t leave him for Hoseok.”

Taehyung looks at you, knowing that you’re still deep in your thoughts. He allows you a few moments to process your feelings before asking, “but what else is on your mind then, if you’re not upset about that?”

Groaning, you hide your face in the soft material of his hoodie, grumbling to yourself. “I can’t say it. It’s bad. I’d sound ungrateful. Jungkook would kill me.”

Laughing, Taehyung holds you as close as possible, because he knows what you are about to say. You might be oblivious to it, but he feels just the same as you when he places his lips right next to your ear and whispers, “I like Seokjin too. How can you not when he has the looks of a model and a humor that can make everyone laugh. He’s kind and caring, he’s never been rude to anyone and only sees the good in people. He’s just such a great person, it’s hard not to fall in love with him.”

“I know that I shouldn’t like-Wait, what?” Sitting back slightly, you look at your soulmate and his signature smile that makes it impossible for you to be sad. “You do?”

Taehyung shrugs, obviously not upset or angered about anything right now. “You know that I give love easily, I don’t mind Yoongi being mated to Hoseok. I wouldn’t mind being mated to either Hoseok or Seokjin myself-I can love them. Love comes easily for me and both of them are already such an important piece to our group, wouldn’t it make sense for them to be part of us? To me, it would. It somehow feels like they already are part of us, but that’s only my view on things, the more the merrier-I know that most of our mates won’t like that thought. I believe in destiny and in the bond, if Yoongi is mated to Hoseok, why shouldn’t all of us be? I bet that we are all connected, we all belong together. It’s obvious to me; even the way you naturally clicked with both Hoseok and Seokjin. You haven’t seen their looks when they look at you, but it’s just plainly obvious. I can see it, I’m pretty sure the others would too if they tried. ”

Sighing, you sit up a bit straighter and cradle your fingers though Taehyung’s soft, blue locks. His roots are growing out, but he recently told you that he is thinking about getting rid of the vibrant blue he’s had for a while now, maybe changing it into something more natural.

“What are we supposed to do now, though? I don’t want to hurt the others, but it feels like Seokjin’s bond is tugging at me in the same way I felt it with all of you. But if I just go out and confess, I know that at least Jimin and Jungkook would be so disappointed in me. I don’t want to hurt them, Tae.” You look at him pleadingly, trying to get some advice that won’t hurt anyone, won’t hurt you.

“Communication, love. We need to do what we’ve been lacking from the beginning. Going around and dumbly kissing people is wrong, neither of us should’ve done it, but our feelings knew better than we did. I mean, Yoongi has been known to mate out of spite, what he did with Jimin and Jungkook is wrong, but I’ve done the same to Yoongi when I just kissed him. This time though, we should talk to our lovely mates first, then to Seokjin and Hoseok. Don’t go overboard with things, we’ve waited for so long, we can survive a few more days, okay? Now, heads up, buttercup. Do you want to listen to some music and play some video games? Do you want me to make you some food, maybe watch a movie?”

You smile at Taehyung, happily kissing him and thanking destiny for mating you to such a caring and loving person. He makes everything easier, as if you didn’t realize that you might have two other mates waiting for all of you to wake up, as if two of your mates weren’t agonizing in anger, as if everything could be solved easily and maybe he makes you believe that it is, indeed, maybe easy as it sounds. “Just cuddle for now, please. We haven’t spent that much time together recently, and I really missed you.”

And who is Taehyung to deny such a tempting offer?

It took Jungkook a while to agree to sit down with all of you and talk about the situation you all are currently in-even Jimin was a bit weird about it, his mood switching between confused, jealous and angry. Namjoon wasn’t too bothered by everything, Taehyung and him talked about the younger’s suspicion about a shared bond between all eight of you, which he somehow agreed too. Yoongi had it more difficult, though. He now had to spend time with six soulmates, and had to plan everything perfectly to not let anyone feel left out, because he definitely doesn’t want that to happen. He planned a long session with Jungkook in the bedroom-even let the younger top him, went on a museum date with Taehyung and Namjoon, took you out to a nice dinner, played video games and worked out with Jimin and even went to karaoke with Hoseok. His life is exhausting right now, yet, he needs to be around his mates 24/7 in order to show you all how much he loves you. Without preferences for one or another.

“Okay, no. We all need to talk, now,” Taehyung growls as he sees how exhausted Yoongi looks once he arrives home from a long day at the tattoo studio. His hair is messy, the beanie barely hiding what Yoongi probably hasn’t washed in a few days. He has bags under his eyes, dry lips. “Go and lay down for a while, I’m calling everyone to come over. Take a shower first, though. You look bad, hyung.”

Yoongi wants to speak up, tell Taehyung that he is fine and definitely doesn’t look bad, but nobody can disobey Taehyung when he has that look in his eyes. “Okay,” he sighs and makes his way over to the bathroom, scared about what is going to happen today. Yet, he knows that a big talk is probably the best thing right now, he didn’t even have a chance to talk to Seokjin about everything-how does he feel? Left out? Alone? Does he care?

The shower feels better than it should, probably because Yoongi didn’t have a proper one in a few days. His hair looks disgusting, he thinks. Maybe he should try out and finally skip bleaching it-his roots are too long, he should dye it back to black. Should he cut it? It’s already long enough to put it in the half-bun Jimin likes to wear recently. What would you like better? Do you still like his nose ring? He could get rid of the lip ring as well-

“Yoongi, I can hear you thinking, go take that shower and then come cuddle me!” Taehyung screams and Yoongi sighs, suddenly not wanting to get out of the shower and face reality.

But he is grown up enough to realize that he has to face everything in order to keep his relationships alive. He doesn’t want to sabotage himself; he did it enough.

Taehyung makes it easy; he brushes a few strands of hair away from Yoongi’s face, kisses his chin, and takes his hand, getting him cozy on the sofa. It’s nothing big, and usually, Yoongi would probably try to shove him away, but he tries to relax and to think about what the hell is going to happen.

You leave the kitchen with several empty cups before bringing the teapot and filling each cup one by one. Yoongi smiles as he notices that you’re wearing Taehyung’s jumper. It looks way too big on you, but it makes you look so sweet to him; he wonders if you know what you’re doing or if you’re still oblivious to the charm that you naturally carry.

You settle down right next to your mate, intertwining your limb with Taehyung's while he makes sure that you do not spill some of your cup on yourself. Jungkook finally enters the room and he automatically settles on Yoongi’s lap, not even trying to ask him if he can or anything. He just flops himself over his hyung, mewling a bit as he gets comfortable. Jungkook has been clingy to the point that it’s hard for Yoongi to make time for everyone else, almost as if Jungkook was making sure to spend all of Yoongi’s free time with him. It’s cute but at the same time, Yoongi knows it comes from a place of jealousy and he isn’t really sure what to think of it. Jimin and Namjoon finally appear too, and Yoongi almost laughs at Namjoon’s concentrated faces as he tries to finish reading something that looks like one of his recent tests that he had his students write while Jimin pulls him with him, looking desperate for help.

“Namjoon, can you just be with us for a sec?” Taehyung is usually not one to call for a family meeting, but it’s important and everyone needs to be there. He knows about Namjoon’s opinion on that topic and he knows how casual and understanding he sees everything-he is smart enough to be perceptive of his mates-, but sometimes he can be so innocently stupid that he doesn’t realize when a topic is serious. Taehyung almost thought of directly calling Hoseok and Seokjin into this meeting (because to be honest, they’re already a part of this family to Taehyung), but knowing Jungkook and Jimin’s state of mind, they’d probably be furious if the two older men had been invited to their rare family meeting.

“I’m here, I’m here. I’m just trying to figure out what grade to give but don’t worry, I’m listening.” He’s barely listening, but Taehyung just rolls his eyes silently before he starts speaking again.

“Okay, I think it’s important for us all to talk first about what happened with Yoongi-hyung recently because I don’t think that hyung can keep this rhythm of activities if we want to keep him alive,” Taehyung almost smirks and Yoongi wants to punch him, “but also about the Hoseok and Seokjin situation.” His words get a few reactions, and Taehyung is not surprised to quickly get interrupted by Jungkook.

“What do you mean by that?” His tone is rather neutral, Taehyung knows he’s walking on a fine line but for some reasons, Jungkook sounds pretty okay for now. But knowing his youngest mate and his temper, he could be exploding every second from now on.

“About the whole relationship we have with them. It is bound to change with the Hoseok and Yoongi bond anyway, but I think some of us might have other thoughts to share as well.”

“Like what?” Jimin’s hurt voice catches almost everyone by surprise; it even gets Namjoon's attention. They had mostly expected for Jungkook to react vehemently, but surprisingly enough, Jimin is the one interrupting. Taehyung should have known that Jimin would be the one who wouldn’t want to hear it the most.

Jungkook doesn’t like the situation, but it has come to a point where he has almost accepted it. Yet, out of the six of them, Jimin has remained silent, keeping his disapproval to himself in order to avoid more hurt. But it had obviously been growing, enough for him to be unable to keep it inside any longer. Taehyung feels it; he already feels Jimin’s bond tensing at the simple mention of the word ‘relationship’.

“You’ll hear that in five minutes, is that okay?” Taehyung knows that Jimin is grumbling, not pleased at the turn of this meeting, but he’ll have to suck it up for now.

“Alright, first then, Yoongi-hyung, you cannot keep those dates up for now. With work and stuff, you’re just gonna collapse one day.”

Taehyung’s hand is mindlessly pulling your hair in a messy bun while you sip on your tea, and Yoongi would have cooed at the scene, had he not been put on the spot by Taehyung.

“I do whatever I want, Tae. I’m capable of taking my mates on dates, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, until it affects your health. Look, I know you feel guilty because you think we’re all mad at you, but it’s not true at all-”

“Come on, I’m not oblivious Tae. I know and literally feel when you guys are upset and it’s always when I tell you I’m going to see Hoseok, even now just bringing his name up, I feel Jimin pulling the bond.”

“Yeah, because you always make it about Hoseok-hyung first, then you feel guilty and only then you spend time with us, I don’t need pity-dates, thank you. I want a date from you because you want to go out with me, not because you went out with Hobi.” Jimin eyes the older man, almost annoyed, but Taehyung sees right through his mate. He knows Jimin is not annoyed, he’s hurt more than anything else.

“I don’t do pity-dates!”

“It kinda feels like it, though, hyung.” Jungkook’s voice is soft, almost as if he doesn’t want to admit that he feels that way too, and he doesn’t look like he was planning on saying it aloud either, but the words slip before he can contain them.

“I don’t mean it like that, though. It’s just… It’s overwhelming and I don’t know how to handle it without hurting you. Like, obviously I want to spend time with each of you, I thought I made that clear right from the beginning. I’m sorry that you feel that way, I see what you mean, but I promise you that I don’t mean it this way. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m picking someone over someone else. Especially…” his eyes trail on your form, “especially after everything that has happened between all of us.”

You know that his words are directed at you. You haven’t talked with Yoongi about his relationship with Hoseok. It’s not like you don’t want to, but you don’t know how to bring the conversation, and Yoongi seems to be avoiding it. Maybe it’s time for you to let him know that you’re not nearly as mad as he seems to believe you to be.

“I’m not… Mad, or sad, you know? Sure, it feels a bit empty sometimes. I told Taehyung the other time, I don’t really know what to feel. I’m not angry at you for wanting to spend time with Hobi, I would too if I were in your situation. I mean, I did when you and I mated even though I went out with Taehyung, Jungkook, Namjoon and Jiminie. I was in the same situation you were in right now. I just, I don’t know, I think there is something missing sometimes.” Yoongi seems surprised but at the same time, did he really expect something else from you who always gives out love without expecting anything in return?

“But… I refused our bond.” His words get a tight-lipped smile from you, and he almost wishes he had shut up before.

“Yeah, but in the end, you accepted me as your soulmate, and that’s enough for me. You said you didn’t want anyone to feel like you’re picking one of us over the other, right? And that’s because you mean it. You don’t want to pick any of us, or side with anyone, right?” Yoongi nods quickly. “See? Then it’s all good. Just… Please, keep on loving us as long as you can.” Yoongi blinks, confused.

“I won’t ever stop loving you, why would you ever doubt that?”

“I don’t doubt it, I’m just… Expressing myself, telling you that I don’t want you to grow out of love with any of us. I think our problem is that we all know that Hoseok was your number one reason to not mate anyone. You waited years for him-and now you finally got him.”

“It won’t happen.”

“Good.” You smile softly and Yoongi wants to scoop you in his arms, yet he still has a very clingy Jungkook in his lap.

Somehow, he feels like a bit of the weight that he had been trying to carry on his shoulder just left. Seeing you smile softly at him makes it easier to believe that you are truly not mad. Even though he can’t understand how you aren’t.

Had the roles been reversed, he would have definitely been hurt and wouldn’t have wanted to talk with you for a while. Yet, here you are, smiling at him as if nothing happened, trusting him more than he trusts himself. But maybe the entire situation between Jungkook and you has shown everyone that ignoring isn’t the best solution.

It should scare you, but he’s grateful that you don’t feel sour. He never felt an ounce of negative emotion through your bond, but Yoongi had mainly believed that you had been holding back for his sake.

Turns out you have just been loving him the same as you always did, with your kind patience and tender hugs, and he wonders if he’ll ever stop falling in love with you.

“I… You’re not hurting through the bond either, right?” He cannot help it, he has to make sure just on that side too, but you slowly shake your head with a smile.

“It did feel weird at first and maybe a bit painful sometimes, but I’m really doing fine, Yoongs. You don’t have to worry about that, but you definitely have to take a break, like Tae said.”

He scrunches his nose at your words, and you can’t help but mutter that you’re serious.

“I know you’re serious, and I hear your advice; I’ll try to take it easy. I’m sorry about worrying you, I did not mean for it to worry any of you.”

Taehyung smiles, but Jungkook huffs slightly.

“Please don’t sacrifice your health for us. I want you to be happy and healthy… And to stay with us.” Jungkook almost pouts, maybe his usual strong front is trying its hardest to remain impassable, but Yoongi kisses his cheeks wordlessly, wrapping himself around the younger's waist, making sure that he’s transmitting his message loud and clear: Yoongi isn’t going anywhere.

“And maybe don’t ever kiss people outside our bond again, like maybe, don’t low-key cheat on us, that’d be a great feeling.” Yoongi takes a sharp breath, not expecting the biting words of Jimin. Perhaps it had been naive of him to think that Jimin would hold it a little longer, it seems that he has reached his limits and Yoongi feels stupid for not realizing earlier how hurt Jimin was even if it hurts. He doesn’t know if he could have done something to relieve his pain, but he would have tried.

Though, Jimin is glaring at him and no one dares speaking after the sudden jab that he threw at Yoongi. They are at a loss, unprepared for such a silent rage to suddenly storm. Jimin has been quiet, angry but silent. They knew he wasn’t happy with the situation, but they also knew Jimin to be level-headed and not nearly as impulsive as Jungkook. Yet, Jimin had kept quiet also because he had known that their youngest was hurting. Jimin always puts his mates before himself; but now that no one seems to have anything else to add about this situation, maybe it’s time that he speaks up too.

He needs to voice this anger that he has so patiently kept inside him, trying his best to settle the situation while his own feelings grew stronger every single time he saw Yoongi leave their home; the home that took him so long to accept. It made Jimin bitter to see how quick he was to leave it to join someone else when it took them months to talk about Yoongi moving in with them. It has always been a fight with Yoongi. Getting him to talk about his feelings, about his needs, receiving affection from him wasn’t hard, but it was a long process with too few words and mostly hidden actions. More than once has Yoongi failed to show them directly how much they meant to him and he’s well aware of that fact. He tries his best but frontal and direct affection is not his forte (except for aftercare, but this is totally different to him). And to be fair, Jimin understands that. He understands that not everyone feels comfortable enough to show affection and love, and it’s fine with him; it truly is.

But it’s hard to swallow the sight he’s so often greeted with. It seems so easy for Yoongi to give Hoseok everything when Jimin has to beg to just catch Yoongi’s eyes. It’s hard not to feel like he’s the wrong soulmate, the wrong partner, the wrong one in the bond. Would have Yoongi been happier had he been bonded solely to Hoseok? Jimin tries to discard the thought as quickly as it comes because the answer his mind creates is not the one he wants to believe.

Jimin wants to trust Yoongi’s love; he truly does. He just has a hard time accepting that everything he desperately has had to chase after for months comes so easily for Hoseok to obtain. It hurts more than he wants to admit, but it truly does. It makes no sense because deep down, he knows that Yoongi always means well. He is trying, Jimin can see it. But it doesn’t make it any easier when he sees Yoongi’s eyes sparkling happily just by seeing Hoseok smiling, while it takes him a good ten minutes of flirting to get the faintest blush to adorn his features.

Perhaps he’s jealous, and so what? Can anyone really blame him? Jimin loves Yoongi with everything he has and yet, it sometimes still feels too little to keep Yoongi in his arms and Jimin does not know what to do to change that.

"I… I'm not cheating on you, where is this coming from?" Jimin narrows his eyes at Yoongi's lost words.

"Yeah? What would you do if I suddenly kissed someone outside our bond, uh? Wouldn't you be hurt?" Yoongi's first thought is that it's different. He’s hurt that Jimin thinks this way because he would never willingly cheat on his soulmates. His situation with Hoseok is so complicated and sure, it might not make a lot of sense for all of his mates but it’s nothing like cheating, Jimin cannot compare it so randomly kissing a stranger. And yet, Yoongi doesn't voice this thought because Jimin's broken expression tugs at his heart instantly. It is pure instinct when Yoongi gently pushes Jungkook on the sofa and gets up quietly before wrapping his arms around Jimin as tightly as he can. Burying his head in the crook of Jimin's neck, Yoongi mutters a quiet apology.

He doesn’t know what to do, honestly. Yoongi is lost. He has never had to deal with similar situations, and it breaks him to know that he hurts his mate that much. He cannot be doing everything wrong because Jimin wraps his arms around him too. One step in the right direction is better than nothing.

You try to find the right words to say what’s going through your mind, but you don’t know how to speak up without hurting Jimin’s feelings even more. “But isn’t that what you did with Yoongi too? You just kissed, without talking to Namjoon or Jungkook first, you didn’t care about Taehyung’s feelings either back then. And nobody was mad at you, Minnie. I mean, try to see his point of view too, okay? Please,” you sigh and try to smile at Jimin, knowing that he’s been thinking about that situation as well.

He doesn’t want to admit it-and he won’t-, but he knows that the parallelism is quite accurate in some ways. Yoongi was more romantically involved in their group than Hoseok, though, and to Jimin, it makes everything different. He kissed Yoongi thinking that maybe they were soulmates. Yoongi was slowly integrating their group. Hoseok, on the contrary, it was an impulsive decision. They could have not been soulmates and it would have still happened. However, Yoongi speaks again before Jimin can rebut.

“I should have done it differently, I know it was wrong of me to just go with the moment and kiss Hoseok. I’m honestly devastated to know that it hurt you like that. I would never, fucking never, cheat on any of you and I’m sorry that it ended up like that, with my actions hurting you so deeply. You totally deserve to be angry, but please know that I would never cheat on you. I love you, okay? I adore each of you with everything I have. I know I suck at showing my feelings, especially recently. I’m gonna try my best to do it differently, I suck at handling all of that and there are no words to explain what I did, why I did it this way, or just why it happened. I can’t change it, but I’m going to try my hardest to prove myself to you.”

“So you’re going to love me as much as you love Hoseok then?” Yoongi blinks a few times.

“What-”

“You always give him everything he wants and needs so quickly, it looks so easy suddenly for you to say ‘I love you’ and stuff. You hold his hands, hug him, smile at him like he’s your whole world. I get that soon too, right?”

“I do that with you too, what the hell, Jimin?”

“Aha! No. No, you don’t do it with me. It takes me ages to get you to agree to go on a date with me, you keep on telling me that ‘it’s good to dream’ when I ask you to tell me you love me, you refuse to hold my hand when I ask you to when we walk home from work, I have to hug you from behind to get a hug and you still try to get away. Is it something about me? I get it, you're in love with Hoseok, and I'm just… here. But I'm your soulmate too, right? Can't I get the same treatment?" Jimin’s frown deepens as he sinks further down in his pillow, knees pulled all the way up to his chest. He looks incredibly small and vulnerable right now, it breaks your heart.

There is an oppressing silence eating Yoongi up as he struggles to find an answer. It's hard to put words in something you do naturally. He doesn't know how to change that, it's just the dynamic he has with Jimin, he never thought the younger man would actually be hurt by this.

"Jimin. God, and you didn't think that telling me would be a good thing?"

"I'm telling you right now!" He balls his hands to incredibly tight fists, so tight that Namjoon looks up from his tasks and takes one of his hands to calm him down a bit.

Yoongi sighs, a headache already starting to take over his mind as he rubs his eyes to get some relief. "No, you're mixing up a bunch of things together, and they don't make sense together. I don't treat you like Hoseok because you're not Hoseok-"

"Thank you for rubbing it-"

"Let me talk, for fuck’s sake! You're not Hoseok, yes, that's a fact. Do you want me to call you Hoseok? Treat you like him? I don't have one soulmate, I have six very different soulmates, and you all are unique to me. I don't want to treat you like Hoseok, not because you're lacking in comparison to him, but simply because you're you. You're the Jimin I love, you're one of my favorite people in the entire world. I don't love you less, you're not just 'here' with the soulmate etiquette sticking out. You're Jimin, my precious mate, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone."

Yoongi takes a deep breath and he tries as much as he can to stay on topic and to address everything that Jimin has talked about, but he knows that he's close to just, word vomit everything he has on his mind. Everyone is watching him, trying to help him, but this is something Yoongi has to do on his own.

"I'm sorry it looks like such a drastic difference to you, but I don't treat you differently because I love you less, I just thought we worked that way. I thought my remarks were just sarcastic and I never meant to hurt you or make you feel less than you are. But this, Jimin, I can't just understand that you want me to treat you differently if you don't tell me anything. When I tell you to keep dreaming, you tell me that you hope to see me in your dreams, when I don't hold your hand, you start running and I run after you. When you hug me, I try to get away with it because it's funny to see you following me everywhere to get a hug. It's just… I thought it was a dynamic we had, but never did I think that it was hurting you, otherwise I would have treated you differently. Do you really see me this poorly? Because then maybe not everything is my fault here, I don’t see why only I have to be the bad person and take in all the prejudices you suddenly have against me."

He can’t help it but to feel hurt at Jimin's accusations. It pains him because, had Jimin told him about it before, he would have behaved differently. He's not the most touchy person of their group but if Jimin wanted him to hold his hand, he would have done it.If Jimin wanted a hug? He would have hugged him. Wanted to hear him say 'I love you'? He'd repeat it over and over until Jimin finally believed him. Yoongi hopes that Jimin doesn't take it the wrong way, but he truly couldn't have known any better if Jimin doesn't say anything about it. On the contrary, he had always seemed to react positively to his jabs. Yoongi would have never thought that he was actually hurt by it.

"I didn't tell you because I felt like you'd force yourself to be someone you're not, and I don't want that. I just…" It takes everything out of Jimin not to dash out of the room and to isolate himself to avoid this situation. He knows that Yoongi couldn't have known better if he didn't tell him, but he tried to make it obvious as they spent time together. Jimin wants and needs attention, they all keep on saying that. So why can’t Yoongi understand that it means a lot to him to have his mates close to him and just… "I don't know, I thought I made it obvious." He wants to say more, but maybe it isn't a good idea.

Once he breathes out, Jimin notices how tense the room has grown. All of them watch him worryingly and seem to be short of words. He doesn't want that, he doesn't like to see his mates like that. He wants to say more, desperately so, but he is interrupted by knocks on the door.

Had they somehow been screaming, and the neighbors got angry at them? The knocks do not stop until Jungkook gets up and opens the door, revealing a disheveled Seokjin behind a panicked Hoseok.

“Is everything okay? I had a feeling that something was wrong and-”

“I tried to tell him we didn’t need to come but-”

“I really needed to see you for a quick second, is everyone safe and ok?” Both Seokjin and Hoseok’s voices clash in the corridor and Jungkook doesn’t know what to do for a brief moment before, he steps aside slightly to let Hoseok see that everyone is indeed safe and okay. The sigh that escapes Hoseok is almost funny, but Jungkook cannot bring himself to laugh when he sees Jimin’s somber features.

“Oh, here’s the star of the show. Welcome, Hoseok,” he sends the elder a toxic smile before he turns his gaze to Seokjin. “Jinnie, why don’t you tell us about your feelings? How did it feel to realize your soulmate decided to just go and kiss someone else’s mate? I bet you must have been thrilled!” Hoseok blinks a few times before looking down quickly, avoiding Jimin’s eyes. He knows they just had a talk with Seokjin, but somehow, Jimin’s words cut deep. It makes him feel slightly ashamed about the way he kissed Yoongi.

Seokjin furrows his eyebrows, unsure about the outcome of this situation. “It isn’t- I mean, we talked about it, it’s not like I didn’t know it would happen.” Seokjin sighs, almost defeated, ”Besides, I know about their pasts and I accept it. I mean, it’s too late now anyway… As long as he doesn’t love me less, it’s fine by me, and I know he does. We are adults, we talked about it and I think we came to a good conclusion here.”

“But are you sure about that?” Jimin asks, digging into the fresh wound.

Yoongi sighs, clearly uncomfortable in his own skin right now. “Jimin…”

“Don’t Jimin me. You can’t decide what I’m feeling, Yoongi. I could let you feel the way I’m feeling, you know? Just by kissing someone that isn’t one of your mates, huh?”

He looks at Seokjin with a knowing grin. The latter doesn’t like this dangerous expression of his coworker at all. Jimin doesn’t look menacing, but he looks like he might be about to do something he is going to regret, and Seokjin does not want to be part of it. However, looking at the almost authoritarian behavior that Jimin is displaying, the oldest man does not think quickly enough to prevent the disaster from happening. Namjoon barely has the time to call for Jimin’s name as the man has already sunk into Seokjin’s form, lips attaching themselves to his before Seokjin could contest.

But it obviously didn't go according to Jimin’s expectations.

He does get all of his mates’ attention and he distinctly hears a few labored intake of breath just like he hoped, he does feel Yoongi’s bond burning from the tip of his fingers, but he surely wasn’t prepared for the intense feeling of a bond tightening between him and Seokjin. All of them can feel it, Hoseok does too, even if he doesn’t know if he feels it from Seokjin or from Yoongi-or the both of them.

Jimin breaks the kiss almost as quickly as it has started, while fear overtakes his features. He does not mean to be so unwelcoming, so terrified of his apparently new mate, but he was not ready for such a situation to happen because of one kiss.

“Fuck, no. This can’t be it. This is too… How could that be true? First Hoseok and Yoongi and now the two of us? How?”

One mistake, he calls it in his head, but his head almost hurts as he mentally pronounces it. Maybe for a few moments, he even forgets the reasons why he is so mad in the first place. His lips quiver nervously, and his eyes can’t leave Seokjin’s panic-stricken ones. Both of them are frozen, barely breathing as shock tenses their bodies. Once again, the room is silent.

Fate has its ways to show him how stupid he has been, hasn’t it?

“We’re… We’re soulmates?” He breathes out, almost afraid of his own words. But the bonds cannot lie. They are soulmates, it isn’t even a question. They both feel it, they can all feel it. Jimin is terrified at the way his heart compresses and feels like it might be exploding under his chest. He almost wants to be angry at Seokjin, but what for? They are soulmates, no one can change that and besides, Jimin is the one who threw himself at the older man.

If anything, he is the only one he can blame-expect from faith, maybe.

“I knew it! Jin, is that true? Do you feel the bond as well? I mean, you do feel closer to us. This is so exciting! Ugh, I love science,” Namjoon rumbles-for the first or second time today maybe, finally putting the tests away-, but Jungkook whines in Yoongi’s lap.

“Why is our bond so weird? Can we be mated to just anyone? I don’t want to share you even more!” It’s hard to tell if Jungkook is actually annoyed or if he’s just being his usual self; he will probably be in need of a lot of cuddles tonight anyway.

Yoongi is lost. He doesn’t know if he should try to reassure the younger man or if he should somehow intervene but he suddenly realizes that Taehyung has been awfully quiet, thinking about the situation they’re in. It’s like Taehyung is not even fazed, as if he knew something similar would happen. Yoongi watches silently, waiting for Taehyung to voice his thoughts, and as Yoongi expected, it doesn’t take a long time for his mate to speak up.

“Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung…” Taehyung takes a deep breath, already knowing that Jimin and Jungkook are likely to dislike this, but he knows that he had to say it, otherwise, the eight of you might be stuck on a dead end if no one finally speaks up, “this might be a weird question, but would one of you mind kissing me too? I have… I have a theory, you know.” His words get everyone's attention and he feels almost shy at the sudden stares he gets but he proceeds anyway, “I feel like all of us are connected. I know it might sound weird, and I know it’s a bit sudden to just put it like that, but I feel it, as if Y/N came into our lives to bring all of us together. Namjoonie agreed to my thought and I think our little Y/N has a thing for Seokjinnie too,” he smirks at your reddening cheeks. “I know that it’s maybe not the best moment to bring it up because we’re obviously having some issues between each other. It’s a bit hard to accept all the changes that we’re going through, but I know that once we overcome those ridiculous fears and expectations, we could find out much more than what some of us want to see… What is your opinion on that, hyungs? Jungkookie? Jiminie?”

Hoseok hums, looking at the slightly disturbed mate right next to him. Technically, it does make sense. It would explain his confused emotions toward the group of mates, it would explain his crush on you, it would explain his jealousy-and envy- as he saw Yoongi and Jungkook having sex, it would explain so much that he has been feeling and refused to acknowledge in fear of hurting Seokjin…

But would that be enough for them all to get their happy ending?

“I mean, I can’t lie and say I don’t get what you mean. I’ve pretty much realized that Jinnie is crushing on Y/N as well, but I thought it was only a small crush-because we can all agree how beautiful she is,” you blush lightly at Hoseok’s blunt words, earning a quiet snicker from Taehyung, ”I don’t know how to explain it, but ever since the bond with Yoongi reacted, I felt somewhat closer to all of you. I would never dare to say that it’s because we’re all mated, but somehow it would make sense. Obviously, the situation is new to Jinnie and myself, we are not used to all of that, but now that I see that Seokjin got mated to Jimin as well, maybe your supposition is somewhat true, Tae? Ugh, how can I say it… if Jin agrees with everything, I think we could give it a shot? I mean, I would be the last one to be against it, please don’t take it wrong, but I think it could be true. How… How are you guys thinking?”

Obviously, Jimin and Jungkook remain silent, but Namjoon blushes, somewhat intimidated by Seokjin’s broad frame that comes closer to the group and Jungkook finally giggles at the sight because, has Namjoon been crushing on the tall man as well? Maybe he has seen only the negative aspects, but if the eight of you are mates, who is he to go against fate? He has been acting up and making Yoongi feel guilty, but was it really worth it? What if he has just been refusing to see what he had in front of his eyes? Maybe he should have watched everything from a more external point of view rather than to put his feelings in the middle of the equation. He is a hopeless romantic, after all.

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, eyeing the situation carefully as he takes notice of Jungkook's light change of mood. If Jungkook gets softer about the idea, it’s one step into the good direction, but he refuses for anyone to feel pressured into anything.

“I don’t want anyone to do something they don’t want to do, okay? Hyung, this can be a lot. I got mated to Jungkook and Jiminie in one day and my feelings went crazy. We can do that on another day, we’ve got more than enough time now that we are all on the same page. And Jimin, Jungkook, please speak up about what you’re feeling. We need to be together in this, we won’t go on if any of you refuse. I agree with Tae’s theory, but I don’t want any of you to feel like you have to go through this for the sake of everyone else, alright?”

Jungkook just shrugs, acknowledging Yoongi’s words but refusing to answer for now. Yoongi nudges him before sighing.

“What can we lose by trying? Maybe it would make sense after all. I’ve… I might have thought a few times that it felt like fate had connected us only to great people when we met Hoseok and Seokjin-hyung, so what if fate has just been trying to make us see that it was more than just a random connection? I don’t… It’s not like I don’t think that it’s possible, it’s just a lot to take in, but I don’t mind going with it to see if it’s true.”

Jungkook almost has a soft smile on his features as he speaks, and Hoseok’s heart stops for a few seconds at the sight.

It’s stupid, but to only know that Jungkook thought highly of them when they met is enough to make him bounce with happiness.

He keeps it quiet but he shares a knowing look with Seokjin who can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed. The older man is starting to understand that he might be wanted here too, that he might not be the one who would be left aside, and it’s making him feel warm… Maybe a little too warm-and excited.

Jimin is still speechless as everyone turns to him, expecting him to lash out, but his newly found connection with Seokjin has stunned him into silence. Can he really still be angry when he feels… that? His gaze meets Seokjin’s expectant one and all he sees is dread, hope, and languishing feelings. He feels his cheeks burn a little at the wave of feelings that overcome him, but he tries not to let it overwhelm him. Taehyung giggles at that, they barely get to see Jimin act all shy and insecure, but he’s happy that his plan seems to work.

Nonetheless, much to everyone’s surprise, Jimin can’t say that feeling Seokjin’s desire leaves him indifferent. If there is one thing that he promised himself after what happened between him and Namjoon, it’s that he would never turn away from his feelings nor would he ignore what is happening with his bond. He does not want to hurt anyone, not Seokjin, nor himself. So maybe that’s why his decision suddenly comes easy, contrasting with his previous anger that had been so fierce that all his mates were looking at him with worried eyes.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t try. After all, if we’re all mates, it would change a lot of things.” Taehyung sighs softly in relief while Yoongi smiles warmly at his younger mate who refuses to look at any of them. Jimin’s eyes are fixed on the floor while his cheeks flush red. Namjoon cheers silently and Jungkook smiles softly as if, perhaps, it was all that was needed. Accepting that this change is something that they have to go through, not as an obligation, but as something that is going to alter their lives forever.

Maybe that’s why you sigh a little bit uneasy and stand up, coming closer to Seokjin and Hoseok. None of the boys expect you to look that serious when you come closer to the two men that they know you adore, a clear contrast with what all of them had guessed from you. “I have a question, though; are you serious? About us, I mean? Because this will change your entire lives. I didn’t have a mate when I met all of you, and now I’m supposed to have seven mates. This is a lot, especially for you, oppa,” you look at Seokjin who’s still blushing as he sneaks glances at Namjoon. “You’re only used to Hobi’s bond, but our bond is… different. You probably feel it a bit more clearly with Jimin, right now. The more people, the more complicated it gets-you’ve all seen where we’ve been already. I don’t want you to enter something that might be too stressful for you.”

Jin smiles slightly at you-and Namjoon-, before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, making you jump a little at the unexpected touch. “I think your ideas might be true, I’ve seen the way all of you react around each other, and I’m feeling more and more of you tugging at my bond. Destiny hasn’t always been easy to understand, I’ve been the first to believe that fate might have fuck up with me, that I would be the one left behind. You know, when you have someone as loving as Hoseok by your side, it’s easy to think that maybe you’re not enough for your own mate.”

He sees Hoseok ready to counter his words, but he shakes his head lightly,

“So, I take you very seriously. I would never try to hurt any of you, even as friends, you are precious to me. I’d never say yes if I feared anything, but I’m willing to try it. Maybe Yoongi is right and we shouldn’t… overdo it all by having a group mating or something like that, but I really want to try. I… I think I would really like it if we were soulmates. I mean, it seems like everyone already knows that I have feelings for you, Y/N,” Jungkook is almost ready to glare because he knew it, he had known better when the fight had happened. He had a reason to be angry after all, but he refrains from doing so because if they are soulmates, it would only make sense for Seokjin to be smitten with you. Who wouldn’t? At least, Seokjin looks bashful at his own admission. “I am indeed ‘crushing’ on Namjoon as well. I mean, it’s hard not to feel anything for you guys, you’d think that it would feel weird to see some of you in a different light, like Jungkook has always been kind of my baby. I’m much older than him and Y/N!”

The slight tension in your shoulders disappears, and Seokjin almost looks like he is close to kissing you, but his little outburst makes the entire room laugh. Jin has always been good with weird moods, if there’s a person that can bring a quiet, thinking room to laugh, it’d be him. “However, it feels almost as if I just never realized those feelings and they had always been there. I just needed a little someone to make me see more clearly. It’s not like I never thought of it either, I had already questioned the issue, to be honest,” Taehyung raises a brow, not expecting this from Seokjin, “but I started believing that, if it wasn’t happening, maybe it meant that we were not fated to be. Why force destiny to bring us together if we’re not actually made for each other?” His eyes drift to you once again, “yet, we have a stubborn woman here who has shown me a very different side to this whole situation.” Maybe Taehyung offered for either of the men to kiss him earlier, but maybe it would be the smoothest outcome if it was you instead. You have been the one to start it all, in a good way of course, but perhaps it would make more sense if it was you who created this bond, this bridge between you all.

“I hope we’re going to have group sex once we’re done with all of that, though,” Jungkook (a.k.a the “baby”) mutters against Yoongi’s neck, earning a slap on the ass from his hyung. “You can’t always say you’re a top, yet wanting to have sex with six other men, Jungkook. Decide,” Yoongi mutters before looking at Hoseok. Then, he whispers, “But I wish that too.” Hoseok looks away, but none of you miss the quiet exchange. It’s not like Yoongi is trying to hide anyway, yet it’s funny to see Hoseok this flustered just with a glance from Yoongi. They didn’t have the chance to get any further than a few hungry kisses because Yoongi felt either guilty or simply exhausted by his packed days. Yet, they obviously have an insane amount of lust built up after so many years of longing.

Seokjin doesn’t even watch them as his eyes are solely focussed on you, unable to look away from your beautiful features-but you’re doing the exact same thing right now. His narrowed eyebrows, full lips and the tiny freckle that you’ve never seen before. You can almost taste his breath, standing so close to the older man. You’re perhaps looking too much into it, but Seokjin’s eyes convey so many feelings without any wall between the two of you that, even if Taehyung’s theory seems a little bit far-fetched, the more you look into Seokjin’s gaze, the more you believe in it. It’s not like you didn’t believe him at first, but maybe those eyes are the only confirmation you needed. You don’t think that such pure eyes could lie.

“You know, I don’t think Hobi would have ever let you leave, even if you weren’t mated to Jimin, or any of us,” you smile softly as you feel Hoseok’s eyes landing onto you, “you both don’t seem to realize it, but you’re a little in your own world when you’re together. You keep on saying that we’re in our little bubble, but you do just the same.”

You tiptoe closer until you can almost feel Seokjin’s breath against your skin and the experience is almost too much, but you refuse to turn away, “you might have doubted yourself, your bond, your relationship, or even Hoseok’s feelings, but I think your mate has never doubted you to remain by his side whatever may happen.”

Seokjin almost snorts because he knows you’re right. Hoseok would have chased after him until Jin would give up and return to the safety of his arms. He can doubt as much as he wants, Hoseok will always be there to catch him in the end. Isn’t that what a soulmate should be? The one who will unconditionally love you despite your flaws and your fears? The one who will catch you even if you’re irresponsible and unreasonable, hurting people you care about? On the other hand, isn’t that what you and the boys always did to him as well? Whenever something went wrong in the café, whenever he was stressed out or whenever he just needed someone for something as simple as taste testing. You’ve always been there for him and he’s so grateful for that.

“Will you also never doubt that I’ll remain by your side if we are indeed soulmates? Fuck, no. Even if destiny decides we’re not meant to bond, I’ll always be there for you, precious.” His voice is barely above a whisper and he, himself, is caught by surprise at how unsure he sounds. Seokjin realizes that he’s close to tears, that all of his pent-up frustrations are finally crashing, and he doesn’t know if the outcome will be positive or flooded by tears.

“Oppa, you’ve already been by my side as a friend, why would I dare doubt you as my soulmate?”

Taehyung is almost bouncing; he can’t watch the situation unfold in front of him, he’s too excited for what’s to come, so he cheekily interrupts them. “Stop swooning around like this before I get another love boner and kiss already.”

Namjoon giggles, watching the two of you in awe. How can two friends, maybe soon to be mates, be so adorable? He could really eat the two of you up. Lord, he wishes he could. He’ll remain as stoic as he can, but it proves to be harder than he believed it would.

Jungkook is busy kissing Yoongi’s neck, cuddling as close as possible to his hyung, enjoying the soft atmosphere in the room. Yoongi can’t say he doesn’t like the feeling of his little bun on top of him, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything else right now. “Gguk-ah, c’mon,” he slurs, “enjoy Y/N and Jin blushing and dancing around each other. We can have some alone time later.”

The younger’s eyes lighten up, his front teeth on show as he smiles with that adorable nose scrunch. “Really?” It’s not like Jungkook does not enjoy the show. You look absolutely adorable and, if he were to be honest, so does Seokjin. Jungkook just likes to be in the middle of the action. Being passive does not correspond to him. Yoongi nods lightly and presses a kiss on top of Jungkook’s head while he glances over at Jimin who’s snuggled into a very bothered-looking Namjoon (not bothered because he is annoyed, but because the scene in front of him is riling him up). Jimin seems a bit softer, even happier, more relaxed and eased into the situation. Yoongi is glad; he doesn’t really know what he would have done had Jimin been against all of this, but it seems that mating with Seokjin just left him as a puddle of softness, waiting to be loved and smothered in kisses. Yoongi smiles; he’ll make sure Jimin feels loved as soon as he gets the opportunity, for now, he just winks in his direction, watching how red Jimin’s cheeks get before the latter hides his burning face against Namjoon’s neck. It’s cute, and the atmosphere is full of love; it’s hard not to melt with this warmth that they all feel overwhelmed with.

However, Jin looks at Hoseok, unsure about how to continue. He knows that Hoseok is fine with it, he just said it a few minutes before; yet he cannot help and need his mate’s approval. You’re still there, looking at him with those doe eyes, sparkling with admiration that he’s sure he can’t resist any longer, but he requires just a nod from Hoseok, something for him to be 100% sure that it’s fine to finally give up control and let his feelings manage the rest. You’re right in front of him, looking like a dream, even though none of you put on fancy clothes or anything today. But you’re so pure, so loving and kind, that Seokjin feels like you’re the piece that’s always been missing. It’s exactly what he thought; you’re the one who melt them all together and you’re totally unaware of your doings. It’s endearing, really. However, Hoseok interrupts his racing thoughts quickly, a warm feeling spreading into his own body.

“Go on, love. You deserve that too,” Hoseok smiles at him with pure admiration as he sits down next to Yoongi and Jungkook, pressing a soft kiss to his other mate’s temple. He wonders for a second if he’s overstepping, yet even Jungkook smiles at him, though it’s clear he is still a bit hesitant with his trust. Yet. Hoseok almost feels accepted, as if he belongs here and always has. Maybe it’s the truth after all, they might have always belonged with each other. As Seokjin said, a little stubborn woman made them see further than all the troubles they first saw, overcoming their differences to finally notice that this is what they need.

“Y/N, …,” Seokjin whispers as he gently caresses your face, the soft skin of your cheeks warm against his palms. You nod slightly, a nervous smile on your lips. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I’ll be there, Jinnie.” Then, you lift yourself up on your toes to reach Seokjin’s lips and everything hits you once you’re finally connected. Each mating is different, that’s something that you already knew. You’ve experienced it on your own many times before, but kissing Seokjin is just… your world crashes within seconds, an overwhelming feeling of love and happiness brings you even closer to him and without realizing, you’re full on making out against the nearest wall. Your tongues are dancing against each other, neither of you hear the amazed reactions from your boyfriends. It’s just the two of you and you wonder how does this kiss feel like it could have been the end of everything had it not happened. Maybe it’s why it gets so hard to think, to separate from each other and realize that you have an audience. It almost feels like if you get away from each other-no. You just shouldn’t get away from each other. This is where both of you belong, in each other’s arms and God you cannot believe that it almost did not happen. Yoongi and Jimin react instantly, shivering quietly against Namjoon and Jungkook. They look up, confusion clear on their features as they feel the bond between all of them getting almost instantly stronger, as if all of them had mated together at the same time. Which is ridiculous, they can see that you and Seokjin are still deeply lost in each other but somehow, Yoongi thinks that he almost can see the string tying all of them together and he wonders if he has just grown crazy. The bond is crazy, that’s for sure, he has always known it, but to see it with his very own eyes? He has never heard of any similar case; seeing the strings of fate… He hopes that it doesn’t mean anything bad. He shudders again as his hands feel weird, almost as if his body was physically reacting to what was happening.

“Why is my body tingling like that?” Yoongi gasps as he continues watching you with curious eyes, looking around to see that Jimin is watching his own skin in confusion. Glancing at the rest of their mates, they both notice that no one seems to be feeling what they are. Jimin breathes in before he answers, “I… I think I feel the same thing. It’s weird, I…,” he looks at Hoseok, then back to Yoongi and his eyes widen a bit. Suddenly everything clicks together and it seems that Yoongi makes the same conclusion at the same time because they both breathe out at the same time : “Y/N is our connection.” It’s evident for the both of them. Yoongi concentrates on what he sees, and he curiously watches all strings tied to your fingers, as if you had been the center of this fated connection. He smiles, not even surprised, even if the sight of the strings disappear as you finally detach yourself from Seokjin. Fate brought them Y/N, the rest was all in their hands. They just had to follow their heart to find their missing pieces, didn’t they? In the end, they almost had always been together, but Y/N had needed to come in the picture to finally make them all realize that yes, this has always been about the eight of them. Fate has definitely waited too long to send you, to let you find your way to them, but Yoongi can’t really say that he is angry. Maybe they had needed this time to understand it all, to get settled with each other and accept this reality more easily than they would have a few years ago. Everything comes at the right time, they say. Both Yoongi and Jimin can clearly see it.

“Y/N is what?” Perhaps it made sense to them, but the others are clearly confused. Namjoon tries to understand everything, yet the smart professor is lost right now. “Explain what you’re feeling, please. What do you mean with connection?” Yoongi and Jimin blink, as if it was obvious enough that the question had not needed to be asked.

“I think… It might sound weird, but I don’t, I can’t imagine myself questioning anything in this relationship anymore. I think that because I was already mated to everyone besides Seokjin, I somehow got mated to him because Y/N was the piece that connected us. I almost felt the same way when she kissed him than I did when I kissed you and the rest. This is… God, it’s unbelievable. Tae,” the younger watches Yoongi with a knowing smile although he did not feel what Yoongi and Jimin felt, “you were right, you were fucking right!”

Taehyung laughs as he sees Yoongi’s eyes glistening with tears. He wouldn’t believe it on his own if he had not been feeling the way he is right now. It’s overwhelming, almost too much for his soul, yet at the same time, it feels so right, like everything is clicking together and it makes so much sense now that he can feel it; he wonders how they didn’t catch on everything earlier. Jimin snorts, hands still tingling, while he tries to hush down his racing heart. He can’t believe how angry he was, can’t believe that he got so annoyed at something that they couldn’t have avoided. Hoseok is part of them; both him and Seokjin belong to them. It’s absurd and yet, it makes more sense than his overwhelming anger. He feels the need to speak up, too. Needs to explain what went through his body.

“That’s exactly what happened to me. I think, I don’t know if you feel the same, but I think I might have gotten mated to Hoseok because he was the missing piece in the bond I have with you since I… I kissed hyung.” Jimin bites his lips and looks at Hoseok who’s gaping at the younger with wide eyes. Hoseok can’t tell if Jimin is angry or if he’s just confused, or if he accepts them or not. He doesn’t know where to place himself without feeling like he might be overstepping. He wonders if it’s too much for the younger man who seemed to be so hurt when him and Seokjin arrived.

“This day is so weird, fuck. Jimin, I’m sorry if you didn’t want any of that…,” however, Jimin interrupts him quickly. There is no room for misunderstanding anymore; Jimin feels everything quite clearly. It’s nothing he could have expected, but he knows better than to question fate. He knows what he is feeling and he knows that despite his pettiness, this, all of this, is right.

“How can I be mad if this feels so right? I didn’t think it would happen, and honestly I would have wanted to wait, sure, but… Right now, I’m feeling pure bliss. Fuck, how is it possible to feel so many things at the same time?”

Jungkook and Taehyung share a confused look, but then they both grin. Namjoon pouts, though. “I’m not feeling anything. God, I want to pounce Jin against this wall as well,” he mutters and just as he’s about to sulkingly continue grading his tests, a large hand wraps around the back of his neck and plump lips are pressed against his own.

The maknaes giggle at his pained expression, shock written all over Namjoon’s face, but Jungkook is quick to turn his face to look at you as he feels your growing embarrassment.

“I’m dying,” you whisper-yell with reddened cheeks and a rapidly beating heart. “Kim Seokjin just killed me!”

“Don’t worry, Namjoon seems to not work as well,” Taehyung laughs. “I hope I get to experience that on my own today.” He smirks knowingly. It’s hard not to be excited about his moment to come, but as long as his soulmates are happy, he doesn’t mind. He watches the happy bundle, Namjoon getting all red because he’s so flustered that he is having a hard time containing his excitement while Jin laughs at him -though he’s as red as Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook rushing to you as you feel your knees getting weak, Yoongi and Hoseok left together on the sofa as they catch each other glance, words not even enough to convey all the love they hold for each other.

It’s surprising how they all find a rhythm almost naturally the next few hours after the exciting ‘event’. Of course, everything is a bit all over the place, and it will take time for everyone to feel fully included in… all of this. Yet somehow, it feels natural, like they click together accordingly to who they are.

Jungkook decides that he might as well start cooking for everyone since it’s starting to be late and Seokjin rushes to help, followed by a very timid Jimin who looks like a lost-but very much whipped-puppy. Even from the living room you can hear him trying to impress Seokjin with his cooking tips-which he all learned from his hyung.

Namjoon starts ranting about his students to Hoseok who not only listens and agrees with him, but also shares stories of some of his annoying clients. Both of them rant together, and they end up laughing at how stupid some people are-Yoongi agrees to that, even though he doesn’t know what they were even talking about. People are stupid. Period.

The television is a nice background noise as you animatedly speak to Taehyung about a documentary that you saw and that you need Taehyung to watch. Yoongi watches you as you slump against him, getting comfortable against his body, while your sole focus is on Taehyung. It’s funny, he thinks, how none of them pay attention to what is happening, but they all fall on a comfortable rhythm and a safe atmosphere in a few minutes only. It makes him smile because to be honest, how is he supposed to remain unaffected by all of this?

His boys look so happy: Namjoon and Hoseok are beaming at each other, you couldn’t make it more obvious that they are soulmates despite not having interacted with each other a lot recently. Taehyung’s smile is almost blinding as he laughs at you, who is fumbling with the remote control, trying to look for the previously mentioned documentary.

Jungkook, Jimin, and Seokjin work together smoothly in the kitchen-Yoongi doesn’t miss the few wandering touches that they all try to hide as much as they can, but their burning faces do little to cover up their embarrassment.

His gaze comes back to you who is quietly swearing because you can’t find your recording of the documentary you want to show Taehyung. You always have this natural charm about yourself that draws all of them to you, but at this right moment, it’s a bit different to Yoongi. He watches you and wonders how things would have turned had he not gone outside to call you out as he had noticed you outside his parlor. You had been coming over so often that he had wondered what your deal was, and it had turned out that you had just been too afraid to enter despite the pretty design that you had created. Looking back on it, he thinks that it’s truly a blessing; all of this.

You’ve been a little blessing in his life; he cannot even imagine what his life without you would be. How can he when you’ve been changing everything he believed in and turning his whole world upside down? He used to believe that he was not worth it, that a soulmate was nothing that he would ever believe in any longer. He used to hate the concept in itself, thinking that love was messed up and only left him hurting. He believed that he did not belong in the middle of his friends who were full of love and happiness, even for him who didn’t always treat them nicely. Yet, they all tried to lift his spirits and to make his day a little brighter.

Until you came in and changed everything, proving him that he can indeed love and deserves to be loved in return. He doesn’t have to punish himself, doesn’t have to keep Jungkook and Taehyung away from him, doesn’t need to deny what he feels for Hoseok, doesn’t need to hold himself back to shower Jimin with love, doesn’t need to stay strong for Namjoon, he can also give up and just let himself be loved. He doesn’t have to be angry at Seokjin, if anything, it makes sense why he has never been able to hate him. And he doesn’t have to reject you; he can accept all the love you have to offer and try to give back the same amount of care that you have for him. He doesn’t have to try and pretend that he is not affected, because he is, and it’s okay to be. It’s okay to look at you and think that he’s head over heels for you because he knows that it’s safe to feel that way; you feel just the same, if not more.

You catch his insistent gaze and smile as the thought grazes his mind. “I hope those are happy tears, Yoons.”

It’s not bad to be in love, after all. As long as he has his soulmates, nothing can happen to him. Maybe he should thank you for that, but he’ll make sure to let you know how much he appreciates you and everything you did for him. He thinks that you might already have an idea because you’re smirking like an idiot, but as he laughs quietly, he can’t help but say aloud, “I was just thinking. Thank god I decided to pull you in when you were annoying us outside the parlor that day so you could stop stalking us. All of our mates owe me at least some new cars and maybe a new piano. Without me, you wouldn’t be here like that, we wouldn’t be here like that.” He lets his fingertips wander over the tattoo you share, over the tattoos Jungkook and Taehyung gave you.

“Hey! I wasn’t stalking you!”

“Kinda felt like it, love.” Jungkook calls from the kitchen before laughing.

“But I didn’t! I was just trying to get inside, but then I just freaked out.”

“Yeah, and for how long exactly did that go on?” Taehyung smirks as he sees you pouting.

“You don’t have to call me out like that, you know?”

Neither of them had a home like this before, it really shows. Everyone falls into this comfortable routine, everyone knows how to function around each other without having to even try getting used to their behavior. Taehyung starts tickling you because he sees you’ve been in your thoughts as well, tearing up a bit-and he can’t have that. Hoseok is taking pictures of you because he says that this moment is too precious for him not to save it for everyone to look back at. Namjoon just laughs and shakes his head as you call for him to help you, to get his “strong arms to a good use for once”.

“You know, hyung. I see that you have a really nice body, but all that time at the café must have had some effects on your body. You can go to the gym with me to keep your body fit, you’re thirty!” Jungkook offers with a cheeky smile and Seokjin, well, he screams at the young man and slams the wooden spoon against his forehead.

“That is rude!”

“I mean, if you want him to exercise so badly, I have an idea that includes six other dicks and some good pussy. I don’t even mind bottoming for all of you, you can use me like a cum dump and I won’t even hesitate. Fill me up, you know,” Jimin adds as he’s cutting some onion, earning a slap on the forehead as well.

“I’m too old for this, Hoseok, cancel this! Sos! Please.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss onto Taehyung’s lips as you cuddle closer to Yoongi.

“I love you,” Yoongi says into the room. And maybe, it’s just because they all belong to each other, but Yoongi wouldn’t have his life any other way.

TAGLIST (please tell me if I forgot someome TT): @ ithinkileftmycoatoutside , @ supertweetycherry ,@ rainyinseoul , @ btsismybiass , @ ray-of-sunshine10 , @ littlepinknightmare , @ quiet-anarchist , @ gali-005 , @ barbikatherine , @woosanniepabo , @ quiet-giant , @ asifetch7 , @ psiphidragon , @ hxsxxk-180294 , @ tellmeyoulovemepls , @ strawbewwymochii , @ do-you-dream-of-me , @intellectualxprincess , @yoshiure , @r-e-d-i-s-h, @mirror-juliet, @moments-of-melancholy, @ungodlyjoon, @heartblackerthancoffee, @i-like-puppy-mg, @holaaaf, @peachinnie , @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @namjoonies-dimple , @daydreambrliever, @just-call-me-trash-can, @4evahevah, @lilacdreams-00, @ramaali1, @clevercoley, @sonderkook, @channiespup, @louisavuittonswrld , @rosaceae-09, @chimchoom , @nyamnomnamujoon , @meowmeowyoongles ,

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agusfree · 4 months ago

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Golden Heart

Summary: Y/N’s best friends all have hybrids, and she loves them with all her heart, but she doesn’t want to be the same as everyone. She loves hybrids, and knows her friends are kind to them, but hybrids are part human, thus they should have their own choices. Many people, unfortunately, abuse their hybrids and use them, so she tries to fight for their freedom of choice. Her closest friend, Namjoon, convinces her to rescue a hybrid so that it can be safe from harm, and her perspectives changes entirely.

Roses & Thorns

Summary: Y/N is a rehabilitator of hybrids who have been abused or being sold for auction. It’s an illegal thing to do, but she feels strongly that this is the right thing. For many years, she has saved hundreds of hybrids who have needed her help, even for her young age, and six of them decided to stay with her. Namjoon, who was the second saved, initiated an intimate relationship, which Taehyung, who was the first saved, wanted in on. Over time, some of the hybrids that came after the two wanted to join in on the relationship. Now, Y/N has saved a very rare fox hybrid named Hoseok, who is very curious and even more broken. He has the choice to stay with these people and maybe join their relationship or move on to a rehabilitated district where he can have a life of his own. What will he choose?

Instant Love

Sneak Peeks: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Summary: Y/N is a foreign English speaking student who has gone to Seoul for college. She’s starting her third semester there and is headed towards her Zoology degree. Namjoon is a business student working a bunch of boring classes and jobs. He gets paired up with a freshman named Taehyung, whom he has no interest in conversing with, until he gets invited to a dance studio, where he meets Y/N, the girl he’s been crushing on for a year. He’s never talked to her, but he follows her Instagram and she follows his. They have talked through comments, and like each other’s pictures, but what happens when they are forced to converse face to face?

Shelter of Hope

Summary: Y/N and her husband Namjoon are the proud owners of a hybrid shelter, protecting and saving as many hybrids as they can. They have a couple of their own, a cat and dog hybrid, whom they love with all their hearts. In the shelter, they gain some hybrids with trauma filled pasts, and one particular one who no one seems to want. What will happen when their little family of four turns to eight?

Shadows & Wolfsbane

BTS & Y/N Moodboards

Summary: Y/N is the youngest Alpha in her compound, owning a whole village. She was born by two Omegas, and originally wanted to be killed, but things were changing in her universe. At the end of the year, each Alpha can pick up to 30 new warriors, wolves that have been training, and the youngest always starts. Y/N never really chooses, asks for the ones who were unwanted such as the old or disabled. This time, she picks the strongest seven players among the warriors, and the other Alphas aren’t too happy, but she chose them for other reasons…. Hopefully, they’ll help her with the predicament she’s found herself in….

Hybrid Heart Attack

Summary: Y/n finds her current fiance during college, his name is Seokjin. They fell in love and dated for three years before he proposed. Now, Seokjin is a lawyer for hybrids, and Y/n, well, she has the perfect stay at home job. When Seokjin invites her to move in, she wasn’t expecting that he has six hybrids. She doesn’t know why a hybrid lawyer wouldn’t have hybrids, she just didn’t think about it…. Y/n is petrified of hybrids, something happened to her when she was little…. Guess she’ll have to adapt… or leave.

Flowers & Weeds

Summary: Before Y/n rehabilitated hybrids, she was just an average rich daughter of a well-known hybrid breeder. She was also someone who didn’t want hybrids in her life, she didn’t like how they had to have an owner when really, they were more human than animals. When the government starts threatening her, she decides to get one to make them start. That’s what changes everything.

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agusfree · 4 months ago

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AMETHYST Chapter 5

In a world when you turn 16 you get a mark that matches your soulmate or soulmates.

It was the case for Yn too when she turned 16, she got seven marks that will connect her to her soulmates but......

Pairing: BTS X Reader, BTS X BTS

Warning: fainting.

Masterlist

There was a strong smell of flowers surrounding me. The light was slowly engulfing all of my surroundings, it was getting harder for me to see anything.

I bring both of my hands to cover my eyes to protect them from the irritating bright light.

"Wishes do come true, unnie. But there is always a price to pay." I heard a familiar voice say but wasn't able to remember who's voice it is.

The whole shop was engulfed by the white light I closed my eyes feeling a bit lightheaded.

I woke up from my deep slumber with sunlight hitting my eyes. Squinting my eyes I look at the window to see that it was morning already.

I lift my head from the table and tried to recall what happened last night.

The incident of last night hit me like a truck, the bright light and then the voice. My head was starting to hurt.

"Did I pass out because of the light, and whose voice did I hear before losing my consciousness?"

Getting up from the chair, I looked down at where the book had fallen last night solely find it missing.

"Where did it go, did the owner put it back?" I moved toward the shelf that I picked the book from to not find it there.

I started searching around the bookstore hoping to see the book or the owner.

There was no voice in the whole shop other than some voices from the outside and the sound of a clock ticking.

"Was that just a dream? No, it felt too real to be a dream. I can't even find the owner anywhere."

I was standing near the door of the shop and looked up at the wall to see the clock displaying 7:50 am.

"I need to figure out the way to my house now, maybe I can ask someone for help."

I decided to go outside the shop. With my purse held tightly in my grip, I pushed the door open and went outside the shop.

My eyes went wide seeing my surrounding the whole place was different from last night.

Many shops and houses were around me, it looked lively now compared to the gloomy and unnerving atmosphere yesterday.

"I swear none of the shops was here yesterday" my eyes were looking here and there in a panic. My headache getting worse.

I turned back toward the shop with shaky legs only to find it gone. "T- the shop where did it go" I was starting to feel lightheaded, my head felt like it was going to burst anytime from the pain.

I felt myself losing my balance and falling, but the pain of hitting the ground never came. Feeling a firm grip around my waist stopping me from crashing on the pavement.

I looked up to see a man holding my waist. "Are you alright?" I heard the man holding me ask.

The worried voice of the man was the last thing I heard before I found myself losing consciousness again.

The man gently picks you up and takes you inside a coffee shop.

"Oh, you are here. What happened" Another man asks as he sees his boss holding a fainted person in his arms.

He quickly goes to him and helps him put you down on a couch.

"She fainted outside, I decided to bring her in. Can you bring me some water Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun nods and goes to get the water for him.

The man was looking at you with worried eyes he felt some connection with you. The type of connection he only ever felt with his soulmate.

He didn't realize when he extends his right hand to touch your cheeks. When his finger touched your skin a shock went down his body. The familiar shock he felt 6 times before.

He hastily pulls up the shelve of the jacket he was wearing. His mind went blank seeing his last soul mark turn purple.

The butterfly that was once grey was now a beautiful amethyst colour. He couldn't believe his eye.

Yeonjun came back with a glass of water in his hand finding his boss standing with a shocked expression on his face. He gently touches his shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts.

The man looked at him and takes the glass of water from him.

He took some water and sprinkle it on your face.

I squinted my eyes feeling something wet on my face. I gently open my eyes my head feeling heavy.

I saw a man looking at me with relief on his face with another man standing on his right.

I recalled what happened a few moments ago and recognized the first man. He must have brought me here. I looked around my surrounding while trying to sit up.

"Let me help you" the man who saved me from falling say as he helped me sit.

"Thank you," I say with a hoarse voice.

"Here drink some water," the other man said handing me a glass of water.

Taking the glass with shaky hands I gulped the water down quickly. My throat feeling a bit better after drink water.

"Thank you so much for helping me, Can I know who you are and where I am?" I asked the man who saved me.

I was getting a stranger feeling from the man but it felt safe around him. The feeling was really calming, it made me confused because the feeling was really strange. I have never felt like this around anyone.

So getting this feeling from a stranger made me really confused.

To be continued...

Author's note: Who do you think it is? Tell me in the comments. Have a good day/night.

Bye bye 💜

Taglist

@emu007 @singukieee @fluffy-canada-pancakes @their-bibliophile @guinhosletters @juju-227592 @im-gay-no-matter-who-i-date

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agusfree · 4 months ago

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Time Heals (sometimes) - 15

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights, the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she had believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

Genre: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series, NSFW.

Taglist closed!

4.1k

SPOTIFY LINK TO “MASQUERADE”, Moon’s song : https://open.spotify.com/album/1gcrzvn0Su5HbfP0gGtgDG?si=3bTDv4UASqediPyV4HMKIg

Warnings: Angst, toxic behavior, mention of abusive relationship and broken family relationship, near death experience and forced medical experiences. Yeah it’s gonna be fun

NOTE: I did say that I would upload tomorrow an hour ago, but it’s much funnier this way! (It’s my way to be forgiven about taking so long to upload last chapter lol and I also spend an hour at work writing that OOPSIE) SO WE’RE UNPACKING RAYA’S BACKGROUND HERE AND GUESS WHO GETS INTRODUCED HAHAHAHAH (I also lied apparently, not a lot of Jimin’s diary here, but soon I guess)

part 14 - here - part 16

Keep reading

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agusfree · 4 months ago

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one of my favourites fanfic that you wrote!! Made me cried once. Hoping a happy ending for them 💜💜💜

THE CHOICES THAT WE MAKE

Human/hybrid! BTS X human! reader Soulmates/hybrids/angst AU

Masterlist

Some things don't always go according to plans. In my case… it was my entire life.

I fell in love with my soulmates, got betrayed by my own family, and everything went downhill from there. Hearts broken, souls now incomplete, every days now feel like a ghost of what they could've been.

I made my own choices, thinking them the best at the time. There's no going back now, and so I move forward, alone.

1 - 6 - 11 - 16 - 21 - 26 -

2 - 7 - 12 - 17 - 22 -

3 - 8 - 13 - 18 - 23 -

4 - 9 - 14 - 19 - 24 -

5 - 10 - 15 - 20 - 25 -

TW: Physical/mental abuse by parents (not sexual), they're honestly just the worst. Please let me know if more needs to be added here.

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agusfree · 4 months ago

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Latibule Season 2: VIII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: We actually made it to the last chapter???? I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did!

Masterlist, Latibule 2.VII

“Are you not going to stop them?” You asked in exasperation at the extremely relaxed Kim Seokjin despite the violence you knew was occurring several floors down, or also known as Yoongi’s torture chamber as per Taehyung.

He was staring down at his phone, lounging on the sofa while browsing through expensive baby clothes you knew your son would just grow out of in a few months.

“Does baby Yoongi like pink? I think he’d look dashing and adorable in this,” he asked nonchalantly as he showed you his phone. Meanwhile, you only gave him a blank look. “Ah. Right. I forgot you’re almost a 100% blind. My bad.”

You groaned at the unmovable man in front of you. As soon as Namjoon declared the two of you married, Yoongi softly asked you to take the baby from Hoseok and before you knew it, he punched the aforementioned man too hard that blood trickled down his busted lips. You knew Hoseok was insane, you just didn’t know he was insane enough to laugh at Yoongi while he was dragged down the basement. Namjoon was sighing as he followed them down, together with Jungkook and Jimin.

On the other hand, Kim Taehyung opted to stay here because he claimed that he would only be bored there. He was just sat there on the sofa, intently watching a documentary on poverty. His gaze never wavered from the face of the journalist. You supposed her voice was strong and her way of telling the story was both compelling and evocative.

“What about you, Taehyung? Shouldn’t you stop them?” you implored as you grasp his surprisingly hard arm.

Taehyung didn’t even tear his eyes off the journalist. He pouted as he shook his head. “No, noona. Sorry. I’m busy watching my future-”

“Future what, Taehyung!?” Seokjin suddenly quipped up, his eyes sending daggers of suspicions at the younger man’s direction.

Taehyung blinked owlishly as he turned to his hyung. “Hmm. I haven’t gotten to the part yet. I just know she’ll be in my future.”

“I cannot emphasize this enough, Taetae. But we absolutely do not need another Yoongi in this family who ran rampant when he lost her-” Seokjin said as he pointed at you.

“Then do we need another Namjoon hyung?” he asked innocently.

“You mean that lunatic who relocated his secretary’s ex-boyfriend to the afterlife and claimed their child as his own? No!”

Taehyung nodded thoughtfully, “What about another you, hyung? You know, someone who sabotaged doctor noona’s transfer to other hospitals but still ended up losing her after being together for several months who also moved her to his house one week in dating and now cannot find her and is desperate enough to-”

“Anyway!” Seokjin cut him off before sighing so deep you thought he lived three lifetimes and was already tired of it. “Don’t worry about Hoseok. That bastard is an idiot, but he is also intelligent as fuck. He will come out of it alive. Yoongi just has to make him bleed.”

“But what if he kills him?”

“Then he doesn’t deserve to be a Bangtan if he can’t come out of that alive.”

“Come on, fucker, also known as Satan’s competitor to the throne, is that all you got?” Hoseok asked amidst the busted lips and beaten and bloodied body of his.

Yoongi was not fairing any better. He was just as bruised as Hoseok but the devil didn’t even care. He was smirking even as he got hit by Hoseok, and even laughing loudly as he hit him back.

“He really is crazy,” Namjoon commented as they watched the two beat each other to death. “No. They are both insane.”

“At this rate, they’re going to end up both dead,” he added when a new batch of blood drops on the floor.

Jungkook watched from where he was standing, his eyes following the pair’s movements. Sure, they were both doing this to inflict pain to each other, yet he noticed something peculiar. All of Yoongi’s attacks was to end Hoseok. On the other hand, that man was attacking to just to inflict pain on him. Interesting.

“Shouldn’t we stop them? They’ve been going at it for a while…” Jimin brought up in concern, biting his lower lip. This was a thing that he always did when he was anxious, a habit he never outgrew.

“I should stop th-” Namjoon was about to step forward when Jungkook spoke.

“Let them, hyung.”

“Jungkook!”

The aforementioned man looked at them with his doe eyes. “What? Hoseok hyung deserves to hit Yoongi hyung just as much as he deserves to hit Hoseok hyung.”

“What the fuck is that logic, Jungkook?!” Jimin asked in exasperation as he turned to the youngest.

“Well, Yoongi killed noona-”

The aforementioned man pushed the bloodied Hoseok down to the ground, their breathings hard as he stared down at the Hoseok. “This was the reason?”

Hoseok spat down the blood to the ground before he wiped the side of his mouth. He was now sneering up at Yoongi. “What else would it be, fucker? You killed the only person I love! You ended her when you knew doing so would end me as well! I thought you were my brother! I treated you like one!”

Yoongi scoffed up, his eyes clenched shut. “You fucking idiot,” he whispered. “She was our sister. Why would I fucking kill her?”

“Stop fucking lying, Yoongi!” he screamed as he stood up, facing the man head on with renewed anger in his eyes. “I saw you that night!”

The thing that was the most peculiar was that despite Hoseok’s blazing anger, Yoongi only now reciprocated it with his cold and calm demeanor. “And what exactly did you see?”

13 years ago

The mansion was in chaos.

Everything was on fire.

The war they waged against Seokjin’s father was not without any casualty. The soldiers took sides; the younger ones sided with the mafia prince, as well as those that wanted a change and those that were fed up with the senseless battles the mafia king was leading them on. On the other hand, the traditional and older mafias that were higher in hierarchy didn’t want the change. Why would they want it when they benefited the most from the current leader?

But they underestimated Kim Seokjin. They underestimated the monster they raised.

And that night, as the mafia prince watched the mansion burned down with a satisfied smile on his face, Hoseok was desperately looking for her. He lost track of her amidst the battle. He knew she could hold her own, having trained alongside the brothers. He didn’t doubt her ability. But damn it, he had a bad feeling about it. And so he braved the fire, he braved the unbearable smoke and went inside the blazing mansion.

He just wished the bad omen he was feeling was nothing.

But alas, it was a wishful thinking. He barged into the main office, desperately calling out her name, just in time to see Yoongi pulled a knife from her shoulder. The squelching sound of blood was sickening, the look on her face as she gasped from the pain was a nightmare. The fire illuminated the scene, and the suffocating smoke was thick, curling through the air, choking every breath with its acrid sting.

“Yoongi hyung?” Hoseok asked with a small voice. What…what happened? Why was Yoongi holding the knife?

Yoongi turned to him slowly, looking like the devil he knew he was, the fire surrounding them made him looked like one. The fire emphasized and illuminated the scar in his eye.

“W-what happened, hyung? Did you hurt her?”

“Hoseok.”

Hoseok turned to her and saw tears slipping down her face. It was the face he loved so much. He loved her so much and now she was dying.

“What did you do?” he asked in disbelief, his feet moving before he could even think of the danger. He was so near her, he could have saved her, but the ceiling gave in.

He would have died had Namjoon decided not to follow him.

He would have followed her had Namjoon not pulled him back just in time.

When he woke up in the hospital, he learned that everyone was safe.

Everyone was okay, except her.

Even the fucker Yoongi who was last seen holding her survived. How could he survive when she didn’t?

There were whispers that she was a spy…but surely, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t kill her over mere whispers, right? They grew up together. There was no way in fucking hell that he killed her over it…right?!

Moreover, there was no way she could betray him. She wouldn’t. Hoseok refused to believe she did.

Because if she could easily betray him, that meant that she never truly loved him. Not like he did.

“You know what I saw.”

“But did you know what you really saw that night, Hobi-ah?”

Jungkook turned to Jimin who was listening just as intently as he was. “What mental gymnastics type of shit is hyung saying?”

He was quiet for a moment, and Jungkook would have believed he wouldn’t answer when he finally did. “In this case, I’d like to believe it’s nothing but the naked truth,” Jimin responded, never taking his eyes off the two men. The way Yoongi pulled back when he heard of Hoseok’s belief was enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I saw you. You pulled the knife from her! She bled in front of you. If you didn’t kill her, why then were you the only one that survived when you were with her?!” At that point, Hoseok’s vein was protruding, his words got louder and louder. They never saw him act that way. They never saw him lose control.

They should have known he only let go when it came to her.

Maybe, he should have done this long ago. Maybe then, he wouldn’t house the decade-old hatred he had been feeling in his heart. Maybe then, they could have the brother he used to be.

“So you tried to kill my angel because of that? You tried to kill her. You tried to kill me. And when that wasn’t enough, you stole the life that should have been mine. You stole my son away from me. You did all those things because of that?”

“And those were still not enough to atone for killing her!”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head. He turned around, walking away from Hoseok and to the chair before he slumped down on it in weariness. His white shirt was bloodied, and no way was it salvageable. His dark hair was disheveled, and the eye that did not house the scar was shut close from the swelling. He regarded Hoseok for a moment as though deep in thought.

“I agree. Those aren’t enough. You should have done more,” he conceded as he leaned back on the chair.

“Hyung!” Jimin protested.

“Why? He’s right. All those things won’t be enough. If I really killed noona knowing full well that she was the center of this moron’s world, then what he did to me was simply not enough. Right? Oh wait…” he trailed off before a smirk graced his busted lips. “Except that I didn’t kill her.”

“That’s enough, hyung! I saw what happened,” Namjoon quipped, wanting nothing but for all of this to have the conclusion it deserved. Everything was in chaos, and the Bangtan itself was in the brink of collapse if this would not be fixed.

“You saw me pulled the knife. You’re a fucking attorney, right, Namjoon-ah? Then answer me this. Is what you saw conclusive enough for you to decisively say that I put the knife in her?”

“You fucker. What the fuck are you saying?” Hoseok asked in disbelief.

“I didn’t kill her, Hobi-ah.”

“You did!”

Yoongi laughed. He laughed for such a long time before he stood up and calmly walked to the door. He was so relaxed as though he wasn’t trying to kill Hoseok mere moments ago, or that he just didn’t drop another perspective from what Hoseok religiously believed in for the past 13 years. He was to the door when he stopped laughing.

“You know what, now that I think about it…I’m not entirely even sure she’s fucking dead.”

The elevator dinged, announcing Yoongi’s presence.

You were sick in worry. It had only been more than two hours since he dragged Hoseok down, and you felt every ticking second of it. No one would tell you anything. The two men with you were completely useless and they couldn’t have been more disinterested even if they tried to. The hatred between Yoongi and Hoseok was more than a decade deep. From what you gathered over the years, Hoseok was retaliating over something that Yoongi committed. And now, Yoongi was retaliating for what Hoseok did to them.

It was a never-ending cycle. You just hoped that it wouldn’t end with either of them dying for it to stop.

The elevator door opened. Min Yoongi was staggering as he walked to where she was. He was using the walls for support, his other hand clutching his stomach.

He was drenched in blood, his immaculate face covered with bruises and wounds. He was obviously hurt, and yet, the sight of you trembling with tears in your eyes was what pained him more.

“Why are you crying, my angel?” Yoongi asked in concern as soon as he reached you, his hand cupping your face gently as he looked down at you with worry in his eyes. “What happened, my love?”

You grasped his hands, feeling the cuts scattered on them. “Y-you need treatment. You-you’re hurt-”

Yoongi pulled you softly to his chest, encircling your crying form to him securely. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being alive,” Yoongi whispered. “For giving me a family. For existing the time as me. For…loving someone as twisted as me.”

But most of all, he wanted to thank her for coming back to him.

At that time, Yoongi wanted to believe that he did the right thing. Removing noona from Hoseok’s life was what was necessary back then. It was the right thing.

But was it really?

He took the fall for noona’s absence. His naïve, younger self surmised that it was better to not say anything, that his silence was enough. He thought everything would go away with enough time, that Hoseok would eventually move on. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He suffered the consequences.

And you… yousuffered the consequences, too.

He was foolish to think that his love for noona was something that would dwindle in time. That love such as Hoseok’s, or rather, his obsession, was not heavy enough to do all this. But now that he had you, he knew better.

Yoongi was wrong.

“Eomma?”

The events of the day had surely exhausted the toddler. Despite the chaos and Seokjin’s annoyance when Yoongi pushed him out of the penthouse after he treated him, he slept soundly. Now that he was awake, his curious eyes observed his surrounding, taking in the unfamiliar place in silence.

“Hi, my love,” you greeted him, reaching for him. His smell calmed you. You hadn’t seen him for what felt like forever. You wanted his life to be better, for calm to reign for the rest of his life. And yet, you were back to where you started.

All those bad thoughts vanished when he wrapped his little arms around you. “Eomma!” he squealed excitedly. He was giggling as he hugged you when the bedroom door opened.

Yoongi was freshly showered and sported a black cotton shirt and comfortable pants. His hair was damped. He was a confident person, yet when his son turned to look at him, he seemed to not know what to do.

"Eomma, who?" Your son asked, his little lips pouting as he glanced up at you, wide-eyed and full of curiosity. He looked so much like Yoongi when he was younger—his expression, the innocence in his gaze, even the way he furrowed his brow when he didn’t understand something.

You were quiet for a moment until you extended your hand to Suga. It was all he needed. He reached for your hand and sat beside you in the bed. His pale skin was just like his son’s. He wanted to hug the little boy, but he knew he was nothing but a stranger to him.

“That’s appa,” you answered with a smile. Your son tilted his head to the side, the way he always did when he was thinking hard, his brows knitting together in the sweetest frown. Yoongi’s heart clenched at the sight. His son.

"Yoongi, meet Jiwon," you said gently, your voice barely above a whisper. You said his name with such tenderness, as if bringing him closer to Yoongi with just the sound of it.

“Jiwon,” he muttered, saying his son’s name for the first time. “Min Jiwon.”

The little boy blinked, still not fully understanding the significance of the man beside him. He regarded Yoongi for a long moment, brow furrowing again, but then a soft smile appeared on his face, the kind of smile only a child could give—pure and uncomplicated.

“Owwie?” Your son asked, pointing at the bruise on Yoongi’s face, his voice filled with concern. The small frown still creased his forehead, a mix of innocence and empathy as he tried to make sense of the man’s injury.

Yoongi smiled, holding the small hand that was pointing at his face.

His son.

He was finally holding his son.

“Not anymore, my son.”

“Owkay I kiss to heal!” he declared earnestly, his face brightening with the simplicity of his gesture, his little lips pressing gently against the wound.

Yoongi froze for a moment, his breath catching in his chest. He couldn’t believe it—this tiny child, this little person who had never known him, was offering him a piece of innocence and love that he didn’t deserve. He had always imagined this moment, but he never could have predicted how much it would pierce through him.

Yoongi blinked, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. He smiled, though the emotions swirled inside him, raw and unspoken. "Thank you, my son," he whispered softly, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Thank you, my wife,” Yoongi looked at you with tenderness in his eyes.

You gave him more than he deserved. You gave him a family.

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open.

It was late, much later than Yoongi had realized. The stillness of the night wrapped around him, the only sound being the steady breathing of his family beside him. He could hear the soft inhale and exhale of your chest, and Jiwon’s tiny, rhythmic breaths between you and him in the bed. It was the first night he had spent with his family, the first night he could legally say that his angel was now lawfully his. A feeling of warmth spread through him as he watched you both sleep soundly, Jiwon nestled safely in the crook of his arm.

It should have been peaceful, this night. It should have been perfect.

But Yoongi’s instincts were screaming at him. A sudden prickle of unease skittered down his spine. Something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He smelled danger.

Every muscle in his body tensed. He needed to divert the threat, to keep you both safe, no matter the cost. His training kicked in, adrenaline flooding his veins as he silently slid out of bed. Every movement was practiced, swift, calculated. He stepped lightly on the cold floor, his feet making no sound as he crept toward the door.

He could hear it now—three sets of footsteps. Slow, deliberate. They were methodical, careful, but not quiet enough.

Yoongi’s lips curled into a barely perceptible sneer as he made his way to the door. He slipped out into the hallway, his footsteps just as silent. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. It was no different than the shadows of his past—quiet, lurking, hiding danger.

He knew the layout of this place better than anyone else. He had memorized every corner, every blind spot. Crouching down behind the table in the hallway, his hand grazed the knife he had hidden there, the cold steel meeting his palm like a promise.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

Yoongi exhaled slowly, his heart pounding but steady. His grip tightened around the knife, eyes trained on the shadows at the far end of the hallway. They were still a few steps away, but he knew time wasn’t on his side.

Three men?

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, mixed with a bitter, cynical edge. Who was this asshole who sent only three men to eliminate him? Seriously? Was that supposed to intimidate him? It almost felt like an insult.

The first man rounded the corner, his shadow barely visible in the dim moonlight streaming through the window. Yoongi’s fingers flexed around the knife’s hilt, his breath steady. The man was just a few feet away, and Yoongi knew he couldn’t hesitate.

With a swift motion, Yoongi darted from his hiding place, slamming the knife into the man’s side before he even had a chance to react. The man crumpled to the floor, gasping as Yoongi pulled the knife free with a quiet flick of his wrist. Blood stained the floor, but Yoongi didn’t even flinch.

One down.

The second man was already drawing his weapon, but Yoongi anticipated his movements, lunging forward with lethal precision, using the table as leverage to knock him off balance. The sound of the man’s body hitting the floor echoed in the silent house, and Yoongi was already on top of him, pressing his knee into the man’s chest and twisting his wrist until the gun slipped from his grasp.

Two down.

The last man was quicker, his eyes darting frantically between Yoongi and his fallen comrades. But he was already too late. Yoongi’s hand reached for the gun in his waistband, bringing it up in a single fluid motion as the man tried to raise his own. Yoongi fired once, twice, the shots ringing out sharply in the quiet night. The man’s body jerked with each bullet, before he collapsed, lifeless.

Three down.

Yoongi stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his gaze scanning the hallway. It was over. But the danger wasn’t gone—not yet. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, then slipped the gun back into his holster. His heart was pounding, but his movements were calm as he wiped the knife clean with a cloth.

Quietly, he fished the phone from his pocket and mindlessly took a picture of the scene and sent it to their group chat, prompting for an emergency meeting at the Bangtan’s headquarters. Next thing he did was dialed for Jimin. He knew what to do.

The first to step through the door was Park Jimin, his presence commanding, his eyes scanning the scene with practiced precision. He barely glanced at the bodies on the floor before his gaze locked onto Yoongi, a silent understanding passing between them. Behind Jimin, the rest of the crew filed in—armed, alert, ready to take action. The air thickened with the weight of their presence. Yoongi knew the drill. The storm was only just beginning.

The troop saluted at him and they were quick to assess the situation, recording and preserving the evidence of the crime. They couldn’t allow this to slide, not when the chief of police, Min Yoongi, had been targeted. The idea of him being a victim? Unthinkable.

Jimin gracefully walked to where he was standing. Yoongi stood apart from the chaos, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around his face like a shield. His anger was palpable—his body rigid, his eyes narrowing as the team moved around him. He was barely holding onto the thin thread of sanity that had kept him grounded. His hands were steady, but his mind was a storm. His family was safe, on their way to the headquarters now with the army of men he trusted, but the unsettling calm in his chest only made his rage more dangerous.

“Reporting this to the police?” Jimin's voice broke through the silence, a smirk tugging at his plump lips as he approached. His footsteps were light, almost graceful, as he surveyed the room, his eyes flicking over the men as they worked. “Bold move, hyung.”

Yoongi scoffed, his gaze flicking to Jimin, but he didn’t move a muscle. His fingers tapped the side of his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark. The sarcasm in Jimin’s voice didn’t faze him. “I’ve already been beaten up by Hoseok earlier, so I’ll just tell them those three assholes did this to me. Self-defense, you know? Trespassing. I’m sure the story will hold up fine.”

Jimin chuckled, shaking his head, but the amusement in his eyes faded as he studied Yoongi. The older man’s expression was cold, a warning to anyone who dared to underestimate his resolve. The anger simmering beneath the surface was a storm just waiting to break free.

Yoongi’s lips curled into something between a grin and a snarl, his eyes sharp as they narrowed on the scene. He tossed the cigarette aside, grinding it into the floor with his heel, and turned toward Jimin. “You know what’s even better?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his expression cautious but curious. “What’s that?”

Yoongi’s voice was low, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Call the reporters. I want this shit to be known throughout the country. Making an unprecedented attack on the chief of the police? And his family? His wife that is blind? And his young son? Guess whose sympathy the public will side?”

Jimin blinked, clearly surprised by the request. But Yoongi’s eyes were steely, full of something dark and dangerous. His gaze flicked to the team, who were still working meticulously in the background.

“They need to know who fucked with the wrong man,” Yoongi continued, his voice a low growl. “And the first person who reacts? The first one who does anything different… will most likely be our fucking enemy.”

Jimin's smirk faltered, replaced by the same steel in his leader’s eyes. He didn’t need to ask who Yoongi was talking about. He understood. It wasn’t just about the attack anymore. It was about sending a message—a statement. Whoever was behind this wasn’t just after the chief of police. They were challenging the entire fucking empire.

Jeon Jungkook was the last to enter the room. He held his hand up, silencing the comment Seokjin was clearly about to make on his pajamas.

“It’s 3 in the morning. Don’t, hyung,” he stated, placing his trusty laptop down on the table.

All of them were gathered there, their faces that of seriousness except for Taehyung who was just playing on his phone as though the situation was not grave enough to merit his attention. But the situation was bigger than they initially thought. Someone was foolish enough to go after one of the leaders of Bangtan. An attack to one was, and should be, considered an attack to all.

This ends now.

All of them was there…well, except for Hoseok who they hadn’t seen since the confrontation. However, to what Namjoon divulged, Hoseok was in his own mansion.

Yoongi sat at the head of the table, the whiskey glass in his hand the only thing that betrayed his seething anger. He didn’t speak, but they all knew that a quiet Yoongi was the most dangerous of them all. The air around him seemed to hum with unspoken rage, his silence more ominous than any outburst.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his eyes. He’d barely slept, and now this. As if things weren’t already complicated enough. He didn’t have the energy for the usual banter. Seokjin, on the other hand, was pouting dramatically, his voice whining as he complained about how the stress of Bangtan’s messes was taking years off his life.

“JK,” Namjoon called for his attention before smiling at him. “Tell us about what you found.”

He nodded before quickly tapping on his laptop. The hug screen in front of the table reflected his findings. “Among our known enemies, as well as people who have been acting strangely lately, these three are the main suspects. First, the one we blew out the ship last year. Second is the-”

Jungkook nodded and immediately began tapping away on his laptop. The large screen in front of the table illuminated as his findings were projected for everyone to see. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, and soon the list of suspects was clear.

“Among our known enemies, as well as people who’ve been acting strange lately, these three are our main suspects,” Jungkook said, his voice steady despite the overwhelming tension. “First, the one we took down last year—the one we blew out of the water in the shipping deal. Second—”

“It’s the third one,” Taehyung interrupted suddenly, his bored eyes finally lifting from his phone to the screen. His voice was casual, as if he wasn’t dealing with the aftermath of an attack on their own.

“What?” Jimin asked, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. He looked at Taehyung, confused by his nonchalant interruption.

Taehyung rested his chin on his hand, the playful air about him from earlier gone as his expression became serious. “It’s the senator. The aspiring president in the upcoming election.”

There was a brief silence before Jimin spoke up again, his brows furrowing. “The senator?”

Taehyung nodded, his tone unchanged, still calm as ever. “He’s been in our pockets for a long time. We’ve been backing him for years, keeping him in line, helping him with his ambitions. But suddenly, we told him we wouldn’t be supporting his bid for president anymore.”

Jungkook looked up from his laptop, his expression now tense. He knew where this was going.

Taehyung continued, his voice growing colder. “The only dirt he has in his ledger? Us. The Bangtan. If we don’t support him, then we’re supporting the other guy. And that’s the last thing he can afford. Losing our backing would destroy everything he’s been working for.

And they all know what happens if they lose our support.”

“Taehyung-ah, that’s a heavy accusation. Do you have any proof?” Seokjin asked.

He nodded, showing his phone to them wherein it showed how he messaged several people with one sentence.

You messed with the wrong people.

The only one who didn’t answer? The senator.

“And well, my sources tell me he’s on the move right now. The fucker is on his way here. So…should we keep going with this pointless meeting or should we head out for war? Because, you know, this is getting honestly boring.”

Before anyone could respond, a loud explosion rattled the walls of the headquarters. The sound of glasses shattering echoed through the room, sharp and continuous, as the windows cracked under the force. Instantly, all six men were on their feet, instinctively reaching for their weapons and preparing for what was about to come. The tension in the air now felt like static, crackling with violence.

The senator had moved first.

Fucking politics.

Yoongi sneered as they all moved to action. “If you get out of here alive, Namjoon-ah, I’m making you a fucking senator!”

“Hyung!”

Well, they did need a political backing. And who better to do that than Namjoon?

The sound of another explosion came, followed by distant gunfire. The senator’s men were already here. They didn’t have time to waste.

Jimin’s sharp eyes narrowed as he pulled on his jacket, his hands readying his gun. “What a fucking foolish man,” he muttered angrily, his voice low but carrying the weight of experience. The last time a chaos with this magnitude was unleashed was when they overthrew Kim Seokjin’s father.

Jimin was already up, moving fluidly, shooting back with precision. His aim was flawless, every bullet finding its mark. The others moved with the same deadly efficiency, but Yoongi’s mind was already a step ahead. His eyes darted to the monitors, where enemy positions were flashing in real-time. He knew the layout of his headquarters inside and out, but it was clear: the senator had come prepared. This wasn’t just a raid—it was a full-on assault.

The next blast came from the front entrance, a massive explosion that blew the doors off their hinges, sending fragments of concrete and wood scattering across the hallway. The force of it sent Yoongi stumbling back, his ears ringing. He recovered quickly, shaking off the disorientation, and rose to his feet.

“Stay alert! They’ll breach the back soon,” Yoongi ordered, voice cold and commanding. He was already heading toward the armory. This wouldn’t be over quickly.

"Taehyung, take the right flank. Namjoon, the left. Jimin, Seokjin—get to the control room. Jungkook, you’re with me. We take the front. Clear?"

"Clear," Taehyung responded, his voice low and focused as he sprinted toward the hallway.

Jimin didn’t need to be told twice—he was already moving. The rest of Bangtan didn’t hesitate either. They were soldiers in their own right, and they knew what was at stake.

Gunfire erupted in the hallway as the attackers advanced. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, but Yoongi was already moving with ruthless precision, his weapon blazing. He took out two men in quick succession, his face impassive as he executed the moves he had perfected over the years. Jungkook was at his side, equally efficient, his gunshots timed perfectly with Yoongi’s.

The sound of the explosions and gunfire seemed to blur together, the chaos intensifying as more men poured into the building. Bangtan’s headquarters had become a battlefield.

Yoongi’s eyes scanned the area, taking note of the positions of his enemies. Every move was calculated. He ducked behind cover, reloading his gun, then came up again, firing without hesitation. The senator’s men were aggressive, but they were no match for Bangtan’s precision and training.

In the distance, the unmistakable sound of a helicopter's rotors beating against the air told Yoongi that their enemies weren’t just coming on foot. The senator had everything planned. It was a full-scale operation.

"Hyung!" Jungkook’s voice cut through the noise, and Yoongi's gaze snapped to him. The younger man was taking down enemy after enemy with ruthless precision, but his face was set in a grim expression, his tone heavy with urgency. "You have to take noona and Jiwon away from this! We’re being surrounded! Backup is a good ten minutes away. You have to keep your family safe!"

Yoongi’s throat tightened at the mention of you and Jiwon. The very thought of you being anywhere near this madness made the blood in his veins run cold.

His eyes flicked to the doorway where you and his son were hidden, safe for the moment, but Yoongi knew that wasn’t enough. He could feel the pressure mounting, the walls of the building seeming to close in with every passing second. The helicopter overhead was a clear indication that the senator wasn’t messing around. This was orchestrated. This was personal.

“We’ll survive. Noona needs you more than us,” Jungkook repeated, his voice a low growl as he fired off a few more rounds, taking out two more of the senator’s men who were sneaking up behind Yoongi.

He hesitated only for a moment, before his jaw set in grim determination. His eyes darted toward the hallway where he had last seen you and Jiwon, the precious little family he thought he could protect.

“Go. Take care of yourself, hyung,” Jungkook said before dashing off into the fray, moving with the precision of a seasoned soldier, disappearing into the shadows as he fought off another wave of enemies.

Yoongi didn’t wait. He moved quickly, every muscle in his body tense as he pushed his way through the chaos, his gun at the ready. As he passed the hallway leading to the room where you and Jiwon were, he felt his chest tighten with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

"Stay low. Stay quiet. Don't make a sound," Yoongi ordered as he approached you, his voice calm but sharp, like steel wrapped in velvet. His gaze was burning, determined. He could feel the weight of his promise to protect you.

He found you in the small, dark room where you were trying to comfort Jiwon, who was clutching a stuffed bear to his chest, eyes wide in confusion. You looked up, your face pale, but there was a quiet strength in your expression. You already knew. You could feel it, too.

Yoongi moved to you quickly, kneeling in front of you. He cupped your face gently, brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, and locked eyes with you.

“We’re leaving now,” he said softly but firmly. “Stay close. Don’t look back.”

You nodded, your grip tightening around Jiwon. There was no question in your eyes. The world outside was in chaos, but you trusted Yoongi, and that was all that mattered right now.

With one last glance at his son, Yoongi turned and led you down the hallway, his mind racing. He wasn’t just fighting to protect you—he was fighting to keep his family whole. And no one—no one—was going to take that from him.

The getaway car was so nearby. He moved his family as quickly as he could, but with you being almost full blind made it difficult. As they rounded the corner, a sharp noise shattered the air. Yoongi’s heart lurched as three masked figures emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. Their weapons gleamed ominously in the dim light. Yoongi’s blood ran cold, but his movements were swift—he spun, instinctively pushing you and Jiwon behind him, using his body as a shield.

Before he could even point the gun at them, three successive shots pierced through their head and their bodies fell down with a thud, revealing Hoseok.

Hoseok lowered his gun, his expression unreadable, his stance calm yet deadly. The hallway, once filled with the sounds of chaos, was eerily silent now, save for the heavy breaths from Yoongi and the distant crackle of the fighting outside.

Yoongi blinked, the shock of the sudden shift in the situation still gripping him. Hoseok? He had barely registered his presence, too focused on the danger ahead.

“What? Are you not going to hurry?” Hoseok’s voice was light, almost amused, but his eyes were hard. There was no room for hesitation, no room for weakness. He was the last person to show any sign of mercy, but right now, there was a flash of something in his gaze that told Yoongi everything—Hoseok had no intention of letting anything happen to his family.

Yoongi didn’t waste time on words. His instincts took over. With a sharp nod, he motioned for you and Jiwon to move faster.

Once Yoongi had secured his family in the car, he took a moment, standing still in the chaos that surrounded them. Without a word, he stepped closer, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing away the tears that had fallen. His gaze was soft but filled with a sorrow that hurt more than anything. And then, as though time itself had stopped, Yoongi leaned down and kissed you deeply.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just a goodbye. It was everything he couldn’t say, everything he couldn’t protect you from. It was the way his lips moved against yours—slow, desperate, full of meaning. It was a kiss that burned with the intensity of his love and his fear. He kissed you as if he were memorizing every sensation—the way you fit against him, the way your breath mingled with his, the way your heart raced in sync with his own. This moment, this fragile piece of time, was all they had.

You clung to him, your sobs breaking through as you gripped his hands with a desperation that mirrored his own. “Come back to me, okay? Come back to us,” you cried, voice trembling, raw with fear and love.

Yoongi’s chest tightened. He smiled, but it was the kind of smile that felt like it could tear him apart. Instead of answering you, he whispered those three words that had always meant everything between you two, but in this moment, they felt like a promise, a plea, and a goodbye all at once.

“I love you.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he pulled back, his eyes never leaving yours. But there was no more time. He stepped back, heart breaking with every second that ticked by. His gaze flickered to Jiwon, and without hesitation, he reached for his son. Pulling the boy into his arms, Yoongi hugged him tight, pressing his forehead against his son’s.

“Be safe, Jiwon,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Then, with one last lingering look at you, he straightened up, his face hardening into a mask of resolve. There would be no time for hesitation. He turned and walked away, each step more purposeful than the last. He knew what he had to do. But with every step, the ache in his chest only grew.

Hoseok looked at Yoongi who was marching to him instead of inside the car. “What the fuck? We have no time. You have to leave–”

Yoongi threw him the keys. “You take them to safety. You get them out of here. You get them to safety, no matter what happens. You take care of them, Hoseok. Don’t let anything happen to them.”

“H-hyung,” Hoseok muttered in confusion.

“You’re the better driver between the two of us. Keep them safe, Hoseok. Keep them safe, and I’ll take you to noona myself.”

Yoongi had five minutes.

Five minutes until backup arrived, and he had to make every second count. His heart pounded in his chest as he rushed back to the scene, every step calculated, every movement with purpose. His family was safe—for now. You and Jiwon were miles away from the chaos, out of harm’s way, but Yoongi knew this fight wasn’t over. Not until every last enemy was on the ground.

He weaved through the wreckage, his men fighting tooth and nail. The sounds of gunfire, shouts, and explosions filled the air, but Yoongi moved like a shadow—silent, swift, and relentless. The tide of battle had already begun to turn. His team, the Bangtan, were forces to be reckoned with. Their enemies were dropping like flies, overwhelmed by the sheer precision and ruthlessness of the Bangtan army. They’d been underestimated, and Yoongi intended to make sure they’d never make that mistake again.

There was no hesitation now. Victory was within their grasp. Yoongi could feel it, in his bones, in the tension of every muscle, in the pulse of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He was going to win this. He would make sure of it.

But just as Yoongi allowed himself to believe victory was imminent, it came—the sharp, searing pain of a bullet tearing through his shoulder. His body jolted, the force of the impact sending him crashing to the ground.

The battle was still raging, but it was quieter now. The enemies’ numbers were dwindling. Yoongi knew they were on the verge of ending this. He had to keep fighting.

Meanwhile, miles away, a car sped down the road, the tires screeching as it rapidly approached the getaway car. It was coming for you. Hoseok’s eyes narrowed as he watched the car in the rearview mirror, knowing that the danger wasn’t over yet.

In a split-second decision, Hoseok swerved the car, taking a sharp turn that threw everyone inside off balance. The vehicle came directly into the path of the oncoming car, his body bracing for the impact. His mind moved faster than his body, and in that moment, he knew what he had to do—he had to take the hit. His team, your family—they were more important than him.

The crash was deafening. Glass shattered, metal crumpled, and Hoseok’s body jerked violently from the force of the impact. But he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were safe.

As the world around him fell into chaos, Yoongi’s world came to a halt. His pulse raced, but his vision began to darken. He had to finish this, he told himself. He had to finish it for you, for Jiwon, for his family, and for the legacy of the Bangtan.

But in that split second, everything stopped. The roar of battle, the screeching tires, the pounding in his ears—everything faded into the background.

Epilogue

260 notes · View notes

agusfree · 4 months ago

Text

payment plan

your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29

valentine’s day masterlist | part 2

word count: 5.509

warning: non-con/coercion, cmnf, smut, dub-con, degradation/humiliation, dominant jin, submissive reader, collaring, affair, unsolicited touching, impregnation kink, thigh riding, oral sex/deep throat, dirty talk, kissing, creampie,

“Your collar…” Jin murmurs, his eyes staring at the pink collar he has given you. It has diamonds wrapped around and in the middle, is a gold shaped heart. “...is so cute.”

“Thank you, sir.” you murmur, your thighs clenching together nervously underneath Jin’s intense gaze.

“Isn’t it sad that your husband is away?” Jin scoffs, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips - rosy and plump.

Kim Seokjin, tall with a slender build. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s beautiful - utterly gorgeous. His beauty is often compared to that of a God; ethereal. He carried himself as such, strutting into any room and completely holding the attention from everyone occupying it.

Kim Seokjin, wealthy - one of the richest men in the nation. He owned several businesses that thrived; all of which funded his life. He had enough generational wealth that his great-great grandchildren wouldn’t have to work - and he’d often boast about that fact. Kim Industries were one of the most well known and luxurious industries to be a part of - employees were even looked at as better off just for being apart of the business.

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law. The very man who stood besides your husband, his elder brother, while you and he were wed. He gave a speech about the love you and your husband had was that of true love and raised his glass to give you a celebratory toast - “to my sister-in-law, Y/N. Welcome to the family.”

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law, and the same man you are having an affair with.

“It is sad, sir.”

Jin tilts his head a bit. “Then why don’t you look it?” he questions. “Maybe you’re happy to be with me instead of your good for nothing husband?”

You swallow at Jin’s harsh words, appearing physically ill at them. Jin doesn’t care, however, and openly berates his brother around you at any given moment.

It was 5 months prior when your husband came to you and confessed that he was completely broke - that you and he had not a dollar to your names. It came as a shock. No, your husband was not as wealthy as Jin - but he was nowhere near broke. Their father had helped start up a business before allowing them out in the world. While Jin branched out and became a big name in multiple industries, your husband was smaller. However, the Kim name had benefits.

“How are we broke?” you asked with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “We have a few hundred thousands saved up for a rainy day.”

Your husband had confided in you that the money was gone - everything that was saved has since been wiped away.

The home you and he bought had to be sold, along with the cars. You were homeless, and the only way your husband was willing to turn was his younger brother.

Seokjin had welcomed you two with open arms and gave his brother a job at one of the many businesses he owned - it was an ego killer. Your husband was the older brother, but yet, the younger one was more successful and thriving. You and your husband moved into Seokjin’s home (even if he did have enough money to lend you a vacation home) and allowed you to borrow his cars whenever needed.

The hours your husband worked were always long, working from sun up to sun down. He came home exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but rest - and you understood. You contemplated asking Jin if there were any available openings in his business for you to work, but your husband shot you down. “I’m the man, Y/N. I have to be the one providing for you.”

As much as you appreciated the efforts your husband set in place, you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth - that you trusting him got you nowhere. You were homeless, staying in a (large mansion, yes) with his brother, becoming a complete burden on him.

Your feelings were never stated aloud, but it showed in your actions. You loved your husband to death truly, but you didn’t want to be around him. You soon got your own room in the mansion and to keep yourself busy, decided to take on chores. You cleaned from top to bottom and cooked constantly. As much as you were annoyed with your husband, you always assured he had three meals a day that you cooked personally.

“I am happy to be with you.” you murmur to Jin, understanding that it’s what he wants to hear. Despite being highly successful and wealthy, hearing that he was better than his elder brother brought satisfaction over Kim Seokjin.

“I know you are.” Jin brings a hand up to touch your cheek softly. “Isn’t this why you allow me to do whatever I want to you? Because my good for nothing brother puts his lovely wife…” Jin trails his hand down to your collared neck. “...in the hands of another man.”

You swallow the lump in your throat nervously.

“Nothing in this world is free, Y/N-ah.” you recall Jin speaking those very words to you for the first time. You had just gotten out of the shower, strolling into your bedroom in nothing but a robe to find the man on your bed. He sits poshly, waiting for you. “I give my brother a job, a place to stay and in return…” Jin trailed off, having since pushed himself from your bed to come to you and without a warning, hands dipped between your robe.

Jin never forgot to remind you that you lived in his home - that you husband (though his brother) worked right under him and if he truly desired, could fire him at any given moment just because.

Maybe that’s why you never told Jin no - that you allowed him to touch you. In the beginning, it was only that; touching. He would come up behind you while you washed the dishes and press himself firmly against you, his hands gripping your waist before they rub up your sides - but then he’d leave you be.

But of course, with you never stopping him - it escalated. Jin was no longer satisfied with just touching you because what was the fun in that? Your husband's work load became longer until he had no days off - and he never went against it. That only meant that you were alone with Jin more often.

“You keep clenching your legs together.” Jin notes. “Are you rubbing them together because you want some type of friction?” he then shakes his head with a scoff. “Just like a whore would.”

Jin turns away from you and ventures into the bedroom - his bedroom. You swallow, now remembering that you and he were just in the hallway of the large mansion. “Come.”

And you do, following him into his bedroom. You never been inside his room before - he always came to yours. But it’s large and as luxurious as the rest of his home. His bed is large - possibly a California king - and it sits right in the middle of the room and behind it is a large window that takes up nearly the whole wall. It’s snowing, the trees outside are covered in beautiful white snow and the amount of it covers the ground completely. You are in awe at the view that Seokin has just outside his window that has such beautiful natural light that there wasn’t any need for one inside the room to be on.

Your eyes scan over the rest of the room and it’s then you notice just how it’s covered in mirrors - even on the ceiling. You wonder if this is a room Seokjin sleeps in, or just takes whatever flings he has.

“Come.” Jin repeats, venturing towards the left of his room to a cushioned seat - it’s gray and matches his bed perfectly. He takes a seat, eyebrows lifting for you to come to him. “I’m glad you wore the lingerie I bought for you. Pink is so cute on your skin.”

Jin’s complement causes your body to flush with heat. You could never grow accustomed to it - maybe it’s the way he speaks. He’s always so smooth and his words come out so natural.

“Sit.” Jin commands and you venture over to him. His eyes lower to your crotch, satisfied with himself that he got crotchless lingerie for you to wear. As much as he enjoyed your naked figure, there was something about the pink hue against your skin that he loves to stare at.

“On my thigh.” Jin commands once more and you know where he’s getting at. You swallow once more, seating yourself on his clothed thigh.

Jin loved when you were naked - or nearly - and he was fully clothed. There was something about getting you out of your clothes that drove him crazy, even if he was able to mask it perfectly - and you never fought him about it, either. You were the perfect submissive woman he needed - and the fact that you weren’t his woman made it better.

“Don’t just sit there shy, Y/N.” Jin speaks. He widens his legs, manspreading to get comfortable on the chair. “Go ahead and rub yourself on my thigh. It has to feel better than squeezing your legs together.”

You don’t fight Jin - you never do. Your hips begin to buckle. You never liked when Jin’s eyes were on you - they were so dark and voyeuristic; always watching you whenever he saw fit. However, there’s nothing you could ever say to him about it - he made sure to remind you just who signs your husbands paychecks.

Every Time you do this with Jin - cheat on your husband with his brother - it always ends with you regretting it. But, in the moment, you don’t allow yourself to ever deny him - you tell yourself because your life depends on him, but there was another side of you. The reality of it all that you were enjoying this - secretly enjoying the affair and how scandalous it was. You enjoyed the way Jin would touch you, sometimes even sneaking touches when his brother was around.

“You’re so wet, Y/N. You’re ruining my suit pants. It’s expensive - far more than anything your husband can afford.”

You think Jin enjoys talking down to his brother but cannot understand why. Your husband never does, you note, and when they’re around one another they appear to be close; often laughing and sharing stories of their childhood.

Jin places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. “Go faster.”

You do as you’re told, a low groan releasing from your lips. You bite your lips to hold back another, but Jin slaps your thigh. “Stop hiding your moans. I want to hear you.”

You moan a little louder, the friction against your clit feeling just right. You begin to rock your hips in circles, whining at how good it truly felt - and how pathetic you were for allowing this to happen.

Jin’s eyes darken and he licks his plump lips. There was nothing like a woman - someone like you exactly - grinding against his thigh and chasing her own orgasm. You were considered off-limits - not only a married woman, but a woman who is married to his brother. You were like a forbidden fruit, something so tempting but he shouldn’t have; out of his reach.

But, you weren’t that. Nothing was out of Kim Seokjin’s reach - not even you. You wore the collar that he gave you willingly, along with the lingerie and now, your pussy is drenched and staining his suit pants. “Go ahead and cum for me, Y/N. I know you want to.” Jin says, squeezing your thigh even harder in encouragement.

Your pussy is so warm and wet; it drenches through Jin’s suit pants and he can feel just how excited you are on his own thigh.

Jin loves to watch you - loves to watch you come undone just for him. You grind against his thigh harder, whimpering freely as your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

Jin slides two fingers beneath your grinding pussy to have a feel of your wet clit and it takes everything in him to not groan at the juices that coat his fingers. “How slutty.” Jin’s voice is raspy as he responds to you.

Your body shudders with goosebumps with how deep Seokjin’s voice becomes. You’re now grinding against Jin’s fingers and you cum almost instantly, a shrill cry releasing from your throat.

Jin places his fingers into his mouth and hums. “How sweet you are, Y/N, cumming all over the place.” he pops his fingers from his mouth. “I let you cum, Y/N. I want you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir-”

Jin is already pushing you off of him and forcing you to your knees. Your eyes open instantly when your knees hit the cold floor, but you don’t protest.

Jin shakes his head while a smirk forms onto his lips. “You’re so obedient, Y/N. You do everything I tell you to do without question.” he then places a hand against your cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod your head. “That’s right, sir.” you respond.

Jin hums, his eyes zoning in on your face. His thumb traces your lips softly for a bit, and you’re confused as to what he’s doing and what the hold up was. “I was thinking about giving your husband a raise. He’s been doing such a good job lately.”

There’s malice in Jin’s tone as he speaks; spite. He scoffs a bit after he says it and you swallow at what he’s about to say next in anticipation. “Depends on how well you treat me, Y/N.”

And there it was - you’ve known as much. Jin wasn’t doing anything out of the pure kindness of his heart; he was sleeping with his brother's wife after all. This was nothing but a game to him - whatever issues he had with his brother, you’d never know.

There’s nothing for you to say in response to Jin. You only nod your head, your hands tangling with his suit pants to take him out. Jin watches you with fierce eyes, never leaving you once.

Your hands are trembling under his gaze, but this isn’t something that you need to mess up.

It’s sad - and you cannot be upset with anyone but yourself. You’ve allowed Jin to grow comfortable with disrespecting your marriage - you allowed him to talk down about your husband to the point that he does it constantly, even in moments such as this. There’s a part of you that hates yourself for allowing yourself to be used by this man.

But then the other part of you is attempting to give yourself grace. The other side of you wanted to blame your husband for losing everything in the marriage; so much so that you felt like you needed to do this with Jin so the man wouldn’t grow spiteful - so you could remain in his home while your husband continued to work in his brother's company.

Jin notices your internal dialogue as you begin to remove his cock from his underwear, but he doesn’t bring himself to care much. After all, he never heard a no from you - you gave him what he wanted without a fight.

Jin was no monster - but you weren’t a saint either. You moaned for him loudly when he was inside of you. You begged for more when you were drunk off of pure pleasure. Your fingernails scarred his back and your juices would stain his clothing.

You wanted this just as badly as Jin did - you were just a married woman who, at the end of it all, had to look herself in the mirror. He didn’t have a wife he had to look at after fucking you - and he could care less about looking his brother in the face.

“You’re doing this for your husband.” Jin says to you, your hand wrapped firmly around his erect cock. His plump lips offer you a smile - that looks more like a smudged smirk - but all he wants to do is make you more comfortable.

Your lips wrap around Jin’s tip, tongue swirling as if it was a lollipop. There’s pre-cum on it, your tastebuds swallowing the salty substance.

‘You’re doing this for your husband’ Jin’s words ring through your ears as you do, your hands pumping the shaft of his cock. You couldn’t be so sure you were doing this for him anymore - as selfish as it sounds.

Losing everything in a blink of an eye has you constantly fearing going through it once more and the selfish side of you was enjoying the attention you weren’t getting from your husband, but from his brother. You were enjoying the expensive gifts that he’d give and the random money he would wire into your account - even if it did eat away at you to accept them.

You continued to suck harder, taking Jin deeper into your mouth. He winces, his hands clenching slightly. Licking his lips, Jin tilts his head at you. “There’s my Y/N.” he moans, hooded eyes watching how purely whorish you appeared taking him fully. “There’s my girl coming out.”

His Y/N - Jin told you time and time again that a part of you - the side that accepted the affair - would come out. This was the side that would moan freely, would hug him closer and the side that would beg for more. This was his Y/N - the Y/N that was determined to make him cum by any means necessary; that would fuck him like her life depended on it (and of course it did).

Your eyes glance up at him and for a moment Jin is stuck. His cheeks flush at you - and it wasn’t something he needed you noticing; he had to have the ultimate control at all times.

The solution? Forcing your head down, taking him even deeper. Your nose hits the cleanly groom patch of hair on his pelvis, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag - but it only edges on Jin further.

“Don’t do it for your husband, Y/N. Do it for yourself.” Jin says, his head firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. “Maybe that would make you act a little better.”

Your tongue lays flat as you suck, your head managing to lean back so only the tip is in your mouth, and quickly before Jin could react, you take him back into your throat, sucking with all your might.

Jin hisses, his toes curling inside his dress shoes. The noises that echo off of his room are filthy - his moans mixed with your slurping and gagging.

“How selfish my Y/N truly is. You like having a cock in your throat as long as the cock is providing for you, huh?” Jin squeezes his hand into your hair to keep you firmly in place, panting at just how good you were taking him. “I guess I’ll have to spoil you after this, huh? Not like your husband could.”

Your eyes begin to water, but you refuse to stop your sucking. Jin’s hips are moving a bit, and he’s cursing low to himself. He wants to tear his eyes away from you - but he’s mesmerized. There’s drool running down your chin and your eyes are watery and to him you look absolutely beautiful - how could he not want to wire you thousands of dollars after this?

You pop off of Jin’s cock with a loud ‘pop’ing sound, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Your hands immediately wrap around his length to jerk him vigorously, your tongue twirling on the tip for him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” Jin groans, right as your eyes and his connect. You were jerking his cock with need - as if you were the one that was cumming. He begins to whimper, his thighs trembling. The familiar bubbling in his abdomen is returning - like it did time and time again when he was with you. “So good for me, baby.”

Jin’s praises shouldn’t be getting to you, but they do. They always do. He could be demanding while you and he were intimate, as well as degrading. However, there were times in which he did speak to you nicely; complimenting you at how good you were to and for him. He’d often call you beautiful and assured that you would always be taken care of regardless of the situation you were in - in the end of it all, you took it as nothing but pillow talk.

However, you were now in the moment just as Seokjin was and you were determined to make the man cum. You bring the tip of his cock back into your mouth and you continue to suck, your palm jerking him to cum. Doing this, Jin begins to pant, his speech cut off. His head hangs back and his eyes are rolling with pleasure - such a beautiful sight, you think. Even when convulsing in pleasure did Kim Seokjin look beautiful.

Jin groans - a groan that comes from deep in his throat. He wants to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing; but maybe that was the side of him that likes you. That, of course, he can’t. He’s unable to form any words and all he can focus on is the pleasure that runs through his body entirely. It was as if his brain was shutting down and fuck did it feel amazing.

Jin’s thighs are quivering and he’s cumming, his breathing coming out in hushed stutters. He cums so much, thick white robes painting the inside of your mouth. It’s so much that it surprises you that it begins to seep out of your mouth, but you assure yourself to swallow as much as you could.

You release Jin’s cock and heave, the air hitting your throat refreshing. You’re sure you looked a mess; tear stained cheeks, blurry and red eyes and drool (and cum) mixed on your lips. But you don’t dwell on the fact - it wasn’t anything Seokjin wasn’t accustomed to seeing already.

It takes a few moments for Jin to compose himself. His eyes are closed and his thighs gently tremble until they stop completely. His mind is flooding with just what he has gotten himself into with you - an act he does each time you manage to make him cum.

“Sir?”

Jin snaps his eyes open and looks at you. You’re on your knees - where you belonged - and looked at him with a tilted head.

Jin leans forward, licking his plump lips. “You’re so obedient.” he murmurs to you, the Jin you knew coming back like a full circle. “The collar suits you.”

You yelp when Jin snatches said collar and yanks it harshly. His lips meet yours in a rushed kiss - an action he’s never done. You and Seokjin don’t kiss; it’s an act far too intimate for two people having an affair. He never initiated it before, and neither have you. Yet, kissing Jin felt right and there's electricity running through your veins. His lips are warm and soft to the touch and though you never initiated a kiss with the man before, you don’t find yourself pushing away from it.

Jin is amused (and satisfied) when you softly protest when he pushes you away from him. “You look like a kick puppy, Y/N. When was the last time you kissed your husband?”

Jin snickers when you glance away - you did because even you didn’t know. Jin kept his hours long (intentionally, now you know) and there was never any time for you and him to ever be alone. And even though you loved your husband for wanting to be better and get out of the financial bind he put the two of you in, there's a sinister side to you that still despises him for putting you in that situation to begin with.

“Come.”

Jin yanks at your collar and has you standing to your feet along with him. He pushes you towards his bed and you fall back with a low yelp.

“Open your legs.” Jin demands and instantly, you comply. “Good girl.” he murmurs.

Between your legs was Jin’s favorite place to be - being inside you or his tongue buried in your pussy. Your pussy is always wet for him; warm and inviting. You gave it up to him so willingly and each time he took it with gratitude.

Jin couldn’t get enough of you - and it had to be a deeper reason. You weren’t his woman to have, but he took you selfishly. He buries his tongue deep against your clit, not taking another second away. He laps against your pussy eagerly, eyes glancing up to see your shocked (yet satisfied) face - brows knitted and mouth agape as a moan draws out.

Jin’s hands place themselves on your outer thigh, allowing you to slightly cage him in between them - because that could never stop him from having his taste of you. He has no choice but to bury his face deeper into your pussy, suckling even harder against your swollen clit.

“F-Feels so good, sir.” you wail and Jin knows this. His eyes never leave your face as his tongue continues to lap. “G-Gonna cum already.”

Jin snickers - you were always so quick to cum when he had you like this. Like the perfect little whore you were, he thinks. He knows his brother could never please you the same way he does - you always walked around so uptight and shy. Your legs clenched together for whatever friction because his brother was far too busy to pleasure you.

Now, you had that glow to you. Jin assured that you’d cum each and every time you and him were together - just like now.

Jin slams your legs open, pinning them against your shoulder. The position is as lewd as his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He devours your pussy entirely, tongue ravishing your clit so loudly that his suckling is dancing off of the walls.

“S-Sir, slow down-”

Jin didn’t want to hear anything you were about to say. You didn’t tell him what to do - he was Kim Seokjin. If he wanted to lick your clit until you were squirting against him he would - because he was Kim Seokjin.

Jin’s hands hold your thighs apart even tighter to assure you have no way to escape him, his tongue sliding against your clit entirely and entering in and out of you. Your eyes snap shut, squeezing so tightly. You were being swallowed up by the black hole of pleasure. There’s whimpering coming from you as well as the familiar moisture at the corner of your eyes.

Jin shoves you away hastily. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Y/N.” Jin says suddenly - an act that is just as shocking as him kissing you.

You don’t get time to protest before Jin is flipping you onto your stomach and forcing your ass into the air. He’s behind you, positioning himself at your entrance.

Jin enters you without hesitation, needing no time to prep you because of how wet you are. He starts off rough, cock so deep that it brings back the familiar black hole of pleasure.

Jin is brutal as he fucks you - but he was a man on a mission. He’s clouded by his own lust and selfish desire that he doesn’t hold back any of his own thoughts.

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Jin asks harshly, pulling both of your hands behind your back to hoist you up. “For me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” you wail, far too gone in pleasure that you don’t completely take in what Jin is saying.

“You’re so drunk off of dick that you’ll say anything. There’s my Y/N.” Jin cracks his hips deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your juices are leaking down your thigh and staining his bedsheets, but he would never care. “I’m going to get you pregnant and watch my pathetic brother raise the child as his.” he laughs gleefully, his plan completely insane.

You’re pushed away from Jin and you fall completely against the mattress. Jin hikes a leg up so he can go deeper into you.

“But don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure our child has the best of the best.” Jin groans, eyes focused on the way your ass bounces against him. “And when they’re of age, I’ll tell them the truth. That the pathetic father they thought they had was not really their father.” Jin leans down, both hands firmly against the mattress for support. “And they’ll inherit millions from me. It’s better than having nothing like my pathetic brother.”

“Feels so good!” you moan into the mattress and all Jin could do is laugh - because you were far too gone to notice anything he was saying; and just how real his plans for you are.

“Yeah?” Jin manages to flip you again and now on your back, he allows you to wrap your legs around him. “So good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little whore.”

Jin connects his lips to yours again and instantly, you wrap your arms around him. You were determined not to let him go this time - and he allowed it. Kissing you felt right; even when it was wrong. Not only because you weren’t his woman (because he was well aware of such and didn’t give a fuck) but because it was a sign of affection.

“Want you to fuck me all night.” you plead against his lips, holding him so close that you coild feel his own heartbeat.

So dick drink, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t respond. He’s unable to, far too focused on giving you exactly what you want.

Jin ponders how his brother wasn’t fighting him to have more time off of work. Your pussy is amazing - carved from the Gods. You’re gripping him so tight with a pussy that’s so wet that if he was in his brothers position, he wouldn’t be at work now - no, he’d be fucking you into the mattress.

But Jin wasn’t your husband and he was doing exactly what he should be doing to you.

“Squeezing me so tight, Y/N. Gonna cum already?” Jin taunts, but even he was ready to cum inside of you.

The thought of getting you pregnant is stuck deep in Jin’s mind; watching you grow heavy and round with his seed. He would have a deep bond with the child, assuring that he would be loved far more than his brother would be with the child. He would be impressed with how large your breast would be as you grew with his child and how beautiful you’d look pregnant.

“Shit,” Jin’s forehead presses against yours. He plunges his cock inside of you with need now - the need to impregnate immediately - and to do this as many times as it takes for you to conceive.

Warmth floods deep inside of you just as you’re reaching your high. You squeeze Jin, hugging him closer to your exhausted and convulsing body and never wanting to let the man go.

You and Jin fucked for hours in various positions you’ve never been in. You had awoken suddenly, body exhausted in a bedroom that didn’t belong to you. Jin wasn’t there, you noticed, and that was your cue to take your leave.

Doing the walk of shame back to your bedroom was something you’d have to look yourself in the mirror about later. Your body was aching and all you truly wanted to do was have a soothing bath and then go right back to sleep.

You opened the door to your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. Your eyes scanned the room entirely.

Balloons littered the ceiling entirely - all red, white and pink. Your bed - king-sized that sat in the middle of the room, sat rose petals shaped neatly into a large heart. In the middle of it sat a small envelope, but that was the least of your concerns.

Flower bouquets are surrounding your bed - all roses of different colors - and there’s dozens of gift bags waiting to be opened.

You enter your bedroom and close your door behind you. You ponder did your husband do all of this for you - and if he did, just how did he manage to do so without wondering where you were at the entire time?

Your heart sinks at the thought of your husband doing this for you and you were cheating on him with his brother.

You grasp the small envelope on your bed and open it. It’s a card - something simple written inside of it but it causes your heart to swell with realization.

My Y/N.

Happy Valentine’s Day

-Seokjin

part 2 | teaser to part 2

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