#Park Jimin AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teenietinytangerine · 3 months ago

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- THE HELLMOUTH'S TEETH;

part i. first draft!!

main pairing: oc x yoongi characters appearances: jimin, taehyung, namjoon, yoongi & hoseok. (for now...) + this is exactly what yoongi looks like in that fic keywords: rock'n'roll, dirty bars, buffy the vampire slayer universe, 90's, library, magic shop & haunted houses + first meetings. summary: wow i don't even know, picture following Bang Saein, the Slayer in that small coast city in SK that finally gets somewhat of a control over her life as part surnatural serial threat and guitarist in a shitty band in a shitty bar, thanfully surrounded by the mysterious Jimin and his even more mysterious best friend Taehyung (whom craves blood on the daily but we don't judge alimentary habits). She can also count on Namjoon, her tired Watcher, and employer at the Magic Shop. But a client (yoongi) with specific demands and a cute bu- ... a cute jacket ahem, and a man (hoseok) with a problem of haunted house is about to change quite a few things around.

She nonchalantly adjusted the black beanie that adorned her short, bleached moon-like locks. With purple stars drawn at the crisp of her eyelids and the sparkles sprayed in her hair, the girl didn’t feel like she belonged under the dirty yellow light of the streetlamp. Her distraught silhouette flashed by in the puddles rendered by the prior rain. She needed a break. From the crowd, from the music, from her shitty boyfriend dancing with every miniskirt that’d let him but her. Under a dark sky still crackling with late thunders in the distance, her heels clattered on the asphalt as she harshly pulled a cig from her pocket and lit it. God, it felt like breathing again. She knew it was bad but hell, she’d rather die young and gorgeous than old and cranky.

Bam.

While she was busy inhaling her cancer stick, a shock made her drop it in the gutter.

“For fuck’s sake,” she looked at her ruined cigarette, “oh that’s just great! A sorry would kill ya?”

She lifted her irritated pout, ready to light another one. Only what she saw in front of her didn't feel right at all. The guy that had just bumped into her was standing there, frozen like an animal ready to pounce on its prey. His giant build was towering over her by a good head and a half.

“What? Creepy got your tongue?”

The jest elicited a strange mimicry from him. I wouldn't say it looked like a smile. No, it was more like a freaky nervous smirk. He moved forward, she moved back. Slowly. “You know, you shouldn’t smoke those.” Her saliva got stuck in her throat, as her grip on her purse grew tighter. What a freak. But still, there was something about him more unsettling than your random drunk in the alley that made her hold back her tongue. “Seriously!” he suddenly shouted, and before she had time to react, he took the cigarette from her and threw it on the ground. “It ruins the taste, you moron!” As he walked under the lamplight, she finally saw it. His face. Contorted and inhumane. And his eyes … two orange orbs. But it was the two fangs that grew out of his mouth that truly did it.

Her scream pierced the night.

Stumbling backward, scratching and kicking as he held her with two arms, only to throw her on the ground, laughing. He was toying with her, the bastard. Her heart beat faster than her chest could contain, and all of her desperate yelling, bursting her own eardrums, got swallowed in the bass of the music inside. She barely managed to get back up when she felt something grab her by the hair and yank her backward. The asphalt hit her skull. The pain shot through her.

She was scared to death with tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to run with every fiber of her being but the terror locked her muscles in place. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She’s screwed, she is so screwed, and she’s gonna die alone in a dirty alley with her friends shaking their asses right next to her, completely oblivious, as usual. Maybe it’s fitting.

Then suddenly, she heard a voice. A woman. Her friend? Did she badmouth them for no reason? Lying down on the floor, the sky turning above her, and the tears blurring her vision, the girl could not properly see what was going on but she did see the freak that attacked her get his attention away from her in favor of this new voice.

“… I mean, red alligator boots? Really? Did they take your fashion sense along with your soul, coz that’s just cruel… For any of us that have to lay eyes on that.”

She heard the sounds of an altercation, something hitting the wall, groans and shouts, and a final, strange sound followed by silence.

And that's when she saw her, head upside down, the woman perched above her sprawled body. Despite the tears, she had a ridiculous thought.

She’s kinda really cute.

A few moments before.

Entangled bodies. Alcohol flowing. The room sweated of music, excitement, and sin. Her fingers flew over the strings, the spotlights blinded her. Life took hold of her. That adrenaline that never left her when she was on stage flowed through her veins with a mind-boggling energy. Sweat glued to the back of her neck and her hips rocking alongside her electric guitar that was fixed firmly on there even when she bent her back to the point of scaring everyone she might break in two. The deep, gritty, raspy sounds bewitched her ears, the people jumping and headbanging at their rhythm, god, she breathed in with delight this sweet ecstasy that inebriated her.

The singer let out that last long note and the entire crowd roared as Bang Saein wrapped it up with a sick riff, possibly showing off but they were eating it up and she felt like a rockstar, bitches.

“Thank you everyone, you’ve been bloody amazing! You can find us every Thursday night, and if you got a penny to spare, we got CDs in the back.”

Saein sank into the alleyway, trash in both her hands. It was her punishment for her chronic condition of lateness and straight-up missing repetition, and the result of her begging not to get kicked out of the band for it. She would take the trash, and the cleaning up, and the having to pack up everything alone as long as they let her get up that stage every Thursday. Saein had a lot of bands in her closet that, honestly rightfully so, had grown exasperated with her cute ass being as unpredictable as that city’s death rate. This one, thanks to the lead singer, Mimi, that had taken a liking to her skills, and maybe because Saein had always suspected she knew more than let on, gave her a longer leash, but still shoved her nose in her own shit every once in a while.

Today, Saein could not care less about her garbage duties. Throw those two out and she was done to join back her friends inside and bathe some more in that post-concert glow.

The guitarist/janitor was whipping up the top of the container when she heard it. A scream. Near. Her muscles thought before her head could. All she cared about was getting there in time. To save them. She followed the voice into the adjacent street she was just coming from, the one that connected to the back of the club. There she found a girl on the floor, with a beanie and white hair, and a man closer to a mountain than he was to a human walking towards her. She barely had time to catch a glimpse of her slim figure before she was caught up.

The vampire was creeping up on his victim, already delecting in the fear in her eyes, licking it off his fingers, when something wet and smelly crashed into his back. What the- He turned around to see a trash bag half opened, and fast-food leftovers hanging on his shoulder.

“Hey, ugly face!”

Further away in the alley, the silhouette of a dark-haired woman in a fancy high ponytail, fluffy miniskirt, leather jacket, and a lollipop hanging from her lips. A smile crept on the bloodsucker's face. Looks like the snack gods are on his side tonight. It’s a two-for-one bimbo buffet.

“Y’all are the cliché-est of all clichés. The dark alley and pretty lost lady routine is sooo boring. Can’t a girl get one vampire-free night out?”

Saein-a wiped her hands clean on her jacket before getting Lil Stick, a wooden stake, out of her inner pocket. She waved it in front of her as she slowly walked towards him.

“Even the outfits! It’s like, I can spot you from a mile away. I mean, red alligator boots? Really? Did they take your fashion sense along with your soul, coz that’s just cruel… For any of us that have to lay eyes on that.”

The vampire groaned in stupidity.

“Who are you, woman?”

Her kick threw him against the brick wall three meters from there with a force that left his form embedded in it. Ugly could barely catch his non-existent breath when a right hook with a perfect manicure unhinged his jaw.

“Why, I’m the Slayer, silly.”

“You … BITCH!”

Well, that was disappointing banter.

He launched at her, landing a few blows that, even when they reached their target, didn’t do a tenth of the damage they usually did, while she responded in kind until he realized, she was the one playing with him. It barely lasted a few seconds, however, before she pinned him on the ground with a proper round kick and sunk the stake into his heart. The monster looked at it in disbelief.

“But, you’re just a girl.”

Before he imploded in a brutal poof of dust.

Saein picked up the stake, got up, and sighed.

“That’s what I keep saying.”

Saein walked back in, making her way through the bodies blissfully dancing and drinking under the muffled lights, until she spotted the two silhouettes she was looking for. They were fairly hard to miss. A blonde man with italian boots leaning his entire weight over their companion’s shoulders, a taller dark-haired man who had his arms crossed over his chest, holding his drink carelessly with two fingers.

Although both very well dressed, they were sporting two distinct styles. Jimin had a bomber jacket with flowery motifs, a fairly simple but elegant flowy shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans falling over his boots, his heels giving him a distinctive posture, while Taehyung, on par with the intensity of his gaze, was adorned with a black ensemble, a tailored suit with a tight undershirt, the only touch of color shining in the piece of emerald dangling around his neck.

Jimin saw her first. He darted to her to bring her back to their high table, one arm around her and radiating warmth as always.

“Here’s the rockstar! You were amazing and you … smell of garbage?” He grimaced.

Taehyung, that was sipping on his red strawberry juice through a loop-di-loo straw, added with a frown, “and blood.”

“You should smell the other guy, hehe. Had some trash to- blood?” She turned on herself, round eyed, searching for the source of it. The lower side of her shirt had a black trail.

“Oh hell. Why are vampire blood stains impossible to wipe out?”

“I don’t know, Sae, we are demonic creatures who feed on the life blood of the innocent. We have no respect for clean laundry.”

“Is there truly no end to your wickedness?”

“Nop, some of them even get souls and sneak their way into our hearts.” Chipped in Jimin, throwing his arm around his pouting friend.

Taehyung’s voice suddenly got quieter. “I’m not the one that sneaked my way into anything…”

“Alright you two, she took the soju from Jimin’s hands who immediately protested, and downed it without flinching, time to go back to the Inn before Namjoon-ssi freezes to death sitting in the dark, in his favorite armchair, waiting for us to walk in to dramatically light up the reading lamp and tell us how disappointed he is in us but me specifically, because he was expecting more from the Slayer and this band is taking my attention away from my duties and-”

“You go ahead. Tae and I are gonna hang around some more. There’s supposed to be fireworks downtown later, and street vendors! Sure you don’t want to come with?”

“Naah, I’m beat. Gotta open the shop tomorrow, too. I found being able to open my eyes truly improves my work ethics. Have fun though. Don’t come home too late!”

“Couldn’t even if I tried. See ya, Saenie.”

With a squeeze on the arm of Jimin, the brunette adjusted her jacket to hide the stain and walked out into the night to her fate… Kim Namjoon’s wrath.

The next day. Early morning. In the Magic Shop.

Saein was slouching on the counter, pushing her cap further and further down while Namjoon was stress-arranging a boxload amount of books, in precarious balance over the shakiest chair he could find, too absorbed in his diatribe to care.

“[…] and I understand that you are a young woman,” The man was three years older than her “and of course, of course you should have the freedom to pursue your own interest, believe me I do understand, did I tell you I used to be in a band myself? […]”

In the early morning lights, the store was empty. Their clientele tended to have busy nights. Hell, their pretty and deadly reception clerk tended to have busy nights, and would be taking a nap right now if the owner hadn’t took the opportunity to continue a sermon he had had started since she had come back from the gig last night. As tired and wanting-to-pull-her-brain-out-with-that-red-bic-pen Saein was, she couldn’t blame him. Namjoon-ssi was giving her a place to live, and a place to work at, among others life-saving favors. She knew it couldn’t be easy being her Watcher and sometimes she wished she could be more of the kind of Slayer he thought the world deserved.

“But I only worry that in your case. Your responsibilities, unfortunately, they demand a lot. I’m wondering if it may be distracting you from the duties that incomb on a Slayer. For generations-”

The sharp shimmer of the bell interrupted him. Oh, thank god.

A man walked in. A jean jacket above an oversized white tee, fluffy black hair falling back on his eyes, and a pair of clear glasses he pushed back while taking in his surroundings.

The Magic Shop was a lot to take in for the first time comers. Behind a modest and somewhat hidden entrance among all the other flashy shops in the busy street, the half library, half store opened on an unexpected sea of racks filled with curiosities, candles and crystals, hooks and nooks made by shelves of books and sprinkled by the occasional brown armchair. Everything was lit by scattered windows but none as impressive as the enormous round stained-glass in the midst of the staricase leading to the mezzanine floor. The interior and the furniture itself seemed to have stayed exactly how it had been put there fifty years ago, all wooden and stonemade, but touches of outdated modernity had been sprayed above it, mostly for the electricity and computers.

Saein perked up and flashed a corporate smile.

“Welcome! Can I help you with anything?”

It wasn’t only an innocent question. Most people wandered in by accident, wanting to browse around out of curiosity, not understanding what they were seeing and amused by it. The others, well the others usually came with a specific task at heart.

The man rapidly binked as he seemed taken aback by the burst of energy of the salesgirl in search of an escape.

“.. H-hi, I… I’ve been there before actually…”

“Oh.”

She didn’t even try hiding her disappointment. He passed his hand nervously on the back of his neck.

“Buuut, it’s been so long, you know. I’m sure everything changed, and my memory pff so bad. You could… maybe, help me if that’s- hmm, yeah.”

Her smile brightened up once more.

“Of course! That’s my job, and I’m great at it!” Saein was so busy with her otherwise career that she wasn’t at the store nearly long enough to remember half of the way things were documented and stored here. She also never got a taste for the more witchy parts of it and could not tell apart a love potion to a bad breath one if it wasn’t written on the label. But who needed to know that when Namjoon was on the cusp of sending her in another remontrance prison and the customer was stuttering, accomadating to her and cute. Really cute. When he walked past her, she couldn’t help but make a note of how easy on the eye his silhouette was.

“What are you looking for?”

In the background, the phone rang, she didn’t pay attention to it. Quickly, Namjoon picked it up.

The client roughed through his pocket before exiting a piece of paper.

“I got a list, but mostly I was hoping to find anything you got on differential planes and interportal travels. I heard Dr. Willingham wrote a lot about this”

She squinted her eyes. He mistook it.

“I’m writting a book.”

“Hmm. Well I’m not an expert of postal airplanes, but I can look up the good doctor in the inventory list if you want.”

“That’d be great! I’ll just take a look around while you do that, Miss…”

Did she mention he was really cute?

“Bang, Bang Saein.”

Something flashed in his eyes that the Slayer didn’t quite catch, and his demeanor changed all the more slightly.

His tongue passed on his lips, a habit that the girl did not found not attractive, as he took two steps away.

“Bang Saein… Hi.”

She cocked her head, amused by the sudden sweetness in his voice, or was it tension?

“Hi.”

“Nice to meet you.”

His smile grew charmingly, with a hint of nerves, while he was still walking backwards towards the shelves but always positioning himself in way to be facing her.

Was he …checking her out?

“Nice to meet you too, Mr…?”

His stare that had been avoiding her all this time, darting from one place to another, was now intently on her.

“Min Yoongi, the man answered, my name is Min Yoongi.”

The armchair’s foot hit his boot and made him stumble. He coughed the embarassment away while Saein clear laugh echoed in.

“Alright then, I’ll get you the books, Min Yoongi-nim. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, suddenly stretching his mouth in a straight line that were making his cheeks stand out, and turning away as soon as it was acceptable. Nevermind cute, he was adorable, she thought while walking away, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing to come this morning after all.

When she reached the reception counter again, Namjoon was still on the phone, a worrisome wrinkle in-between his eyebrows.

“Pleace, sir, calm down. I understand you’re being serious, I’m not- Sir, please, I believe you. How about you come by the shop when you have time later and … oh right, we’re open right now… Very well, very well. See you then.”

And hangs up with a sigh.

Saein tried to sneak by to snatch the inventory book they never took time to digitalize, holding her breath on her tiptoe. She had it tight againt her chest, almost homefree, when:

“Oh Saein, it’s good you’re here.”

Every single time.

“I’ve got a customer…

“I’m not sure yet, but you might have to go on patrol tonight.”

“Another relative with a bad bite on the neck disappeared from their coffin?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid.”

“Too bad, that’s a tune I know. What is it then?”

“We’ll know more later, they said they’ll stop by for the details. They don’t seem very, hm, accustomed by the surnatural, but they did mention a haunted house quite a few times.”

“...”

The uncharacteristic silence finally made Namjoon turn away torwards his protegee.

“What?”

“Don’t do that to me.

I hate haunted houses.”

She repeated, muttering as the night had settled in, the moonlight shining on that muddy path they were walking on, towards the haunted house. The Slayer had never claimed to be fearless, if only a bit bold and intrepid, but certainly not fearless. Especially when it came with ghosts and walls. Namjoon had assured her ghosts weren’t real, not as such, at least not to the extent that he knew of, although there had been cases of haunted places all throughout history before and who knows, they were discovering new cases every day so … And had only made it worse. The only thing keeping Saein down on earth was the poor client at their side making her jitters seem like a mild case. His name was Jung Hoseok. He was a lawyer in Seoul that had just moved here with his ill mother that had requested to see her old childhood home once again. His fancy clothes, at the high of fashion and falling so perfectly on him it made it seem like it was sawn for him, and might have been as wealth was dripping from him and his espensive watch, and yet the first thing that came to Saein’s mind when she met him earlier was pure warmth. Under the obvious fear and turmoil of a man that never had to deal with anything close to this, he was exuding a soothing presence.

Hoseok was explaining pressingly to Jimin, whom she had begged to come on the excuse that he was better with reassuring people, what she had heard earlier.

“At first I thought it might the stress from moving, or maybe the illness had developped but then I started feeling it too. Even while I was wide awake, it was like living in a nightmare. I just, I had to get out of there, you know. If it wasn’t for my mom, I would have sold that place to the first poor guy passing by, but she loves it. She won’t even talk about it.”

“Letting go of the place you grew up in is always hard. We’ll do everything we can to give her that back. Saein is great at fighting monsters, that’s kind of her thing.”

“Is it? I’ve been meaning to ask but, what are you guys?”

“That’s, you know what, that’s actually a great question! How did you find us?” She asked. Saein was more used to stumble upon someone’s business than being commissioned into one. It’s not like she was advertising her situation.

“Someone at the bar gave me the shop’s phone number. I was venting and they said you were the ones that could help.”

“Weird. But on theme.”

“I was desperate and I had nothing to lose, and now I’m walking with two strangers in the dark holding knives and, is that a stick?”

“A mighty stick. Pointy, even.”

“You don’t want to know. Think of it as her blanket stick, she needs it for emotional support even though it will do nothing against ghosts…” Jimin snarked.

“Everything will do nothing against ghosts, they’re ghosts! … And! They’re not real … I hope.”

“Oh, there we are.”

Hoseok had stopped in his track as soon as the lights of the house came into view through the veil of the fog that had rose in the distance.

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namjoonscoffeeshop · 8 months ago

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All stories are my original works. Do not copy or translate! drabbles/mini series are only available on tumblr.

Disclaimer: All stories have strong language & mature content :)

+ I write mature books anyone under the age of 18 should not read, my books are not for the weak of heart. I write messed up stories with messed up endings.

Drabbles can become a full series or a short one, your opinions matter! let me know if there is a drabble you really like! but this is honestly a list of stories I want to write one day... :)

check out my w.i.p :)

*･ﾟ:*･ﾟ:*✧*:･ﾟ*Jungkook *･ﾟ:*✧*:･ﾟ**･ﾟ*

Karmic Soulmates |JJK

✧ Pairing: Jungkook x reader

✧ warning(s): explicit language, suggestive content, mature content

✧ genre: angst,fluff,smut,fake dating au,contract

✧ synopsis; you run a cafe, live in a quiet city. you're life is normal just as everyone else, but not everyone seems to be who they seem. what do you do when your soulmate appears again and pulls you back into the world you had been running from for six years.

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#bts drabbles #bts fluff #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts scenerios #park jimin au #kim namjoon au #kim seokjin au #jung hoseok au #min yoong au #kim taehyung au #jeon jungkook au #bts x reader

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melancholy-of-nadia · 2 months ago

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i'm not sure?! (m) | jjk/pjm/kth

title: i'm not sure?! pairing: jungkook x jimin x taehyung x show producer!reader(f) rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff, smut ; the canon idol au summary: You're a producer working on a BTS travel show, called "Are You Sure?!" staring BTS members Jimin and Jungkook, with their fellow member guest star Taehyung. Everything is going well on set as filming for the night comes to an end, but when Jungkook and Jimin inform you that they caught you staring at their shirtless bodies, things quickly escalate between you guys by the poolside. warnings: fluff, language, pwp, threesome, foursome, tit play, nipple play, licking, some body boob worship, blowjobs, hand jobs, eating out, multiple orgasms, ass slapping, light mlm moment, cumming, oral sex (m and f receieving), biting, praise, they all have a big dicks but they're different!, tatted jk and jimin is a warning in itself, jungkook is a bit more rough, jimin is soft :(((, taehyung dom tease!, insinuation that this is not their first rodeo lmfao, kisses note: i am watching are you sure?! and i've thought many thoughts... i hope this one shot can be prescribed to you and heal whatever insane and nasty intrusive thoughts you guys have when watching. i am a simple woman, but these men only slightly older than me have me wrecked :"))) also s/o to @daegudrama for editing despite her busyness total word count: 6.6k drop date: August 29th, 2024 5pm pst ao3 link

A day of filming wrapped as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery of Jeju Island.

The final shot had captured the last rays of sunlight glinting off the shimmering pool, where Jimin and Jungkook had been playfully splashing each other and playing mermaids, their laughter echoing through the tranquil evening air. The crew began to pack up the equipment, the usual post-shoot chatter filling the space as everyone prepared to unwind after another successful day.

You, the producer, had been watching the monitors closely, ensuring every moment was captured perfectly for "Are You Sure?"—the travel reality show hosted by BTS members Jimin and Jungkook. You’ve seen how their chemistry was undeniable since filming started out in the US in July. Now, once again, their camaraderie was infectious as they explored the beauty of Jeju, Korea with their fellow bandmate and guest star Taehyung by their side. Each outing in Jeju had been a hit: indoor rock climbing, go-karting, savoring omakase as well as other Jeju delicacies, and now, the pool at the luxurious house accommodation, where they seemed to find endless ways to entertain themselves, and the audiences who would eventually be watching this.

However, throughout this filming project, you found your eyes constantly lingering. The cool blue water rippled gently as Jimin and Jungkook clambered out, their naked torsos glistening in the fading light. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught yourself staring a little too long, mesmerized by the sight of them so effortlessly carefree and touchy. There was something about the way they moved, their playful energy, that made it hard to look away.

You shake off the thought. Get it together, Y/N! You finally got a big gig producing a reality show for BTS in your mid-20s and you cannot be ruining it over your lust. You sigh. Maybe the lack of touch and a relationship is really getting to you, but that’s what happens when you value your career above other mundane things. You have to remind yourself that you have to continue staying professional to make it to the end of filming this.

What you don’t know is that your stares haven’t gone unnoticed, especially by the youngest of the trio, Jungkook.

As you begin to collect your things, your heart skips a beat when you hear a voice call out to you.

“Hey, PD-nim. Can you come join us by the pool for a bit before you go,” Jungkook says, his tone casual, but his smile inviting. “We wanted to talk about tomorrow’s shoot.”

Jimin nods in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans against the edge of the pool. “Yeah, we’ve got some ideas for tomorrow. Plus, it’s a nice night—no reason to rush off, right?”

You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing. The day has been long, and you can feel the exhaustion settling in. But the chance to spend a few more moments in their company, even if just to discuss the next day's itinerary, is too tempting to resist.

“Uh,” you turn to look around at the other staff, seemingly wondering if you should stay behind.

However, the ones who notice the interaction shrug, seemingly wanting to go back to their accommodation next door and eat dinner. Great.

“Sure, I can stick around for a bit.” trying to keep your voice steady as you walk over to where they’re waiting.

All the staff but you fully exit, closing the large doors that encase you in this space with these beautiful men. You sit on one of the comfortable seats by the pool, nervously hugging your knees as you watch Jimin and Jungkook swim toward you. You notice Taehyung is still inside the living room, lying on the floor as he scrolls on his phone. “Is he coming to join us?” You ask, wondering if there are any concerns for tomorrow, wouldn’t it be good to have him hear this information too?

“He’ll join us later~” Jimin answers, his tone sounding like he’s up to something, but his adorable smirk makes you not question it.

“Ah, alright.”

A brief silence follows as you look to Jimin and Jungkook to start the conversation, but instead, they exchange a glance and giggle.

You’re confused, but you recognize this as typical behavior from them. “Is there something wrong?”

Jungkook’s giggling becomes softer before it cuts, “You know, we’ve noticed you staring at us too much throughout the trip in America and here.”

Holy shit! They noticed!

Panic sets in. Oh no no no. Is this it? They probably think you’re creepy. What if they think you’re some sort of sasaeng fan who somehow got involved in the production of this show to stalk them?

You’ll be labeled a pervert, potentially losing your job and getting blacklisted from the industry. All because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of their beautiful faces… and bodies. It’s not your fault! While you were a fan of BTS years ago, you gave that up once you entered the entertainment industry a few years ago and started out as a production assistant. You’ve occasionally seen them at music and end of the year shows you worked on, but you gently admired them from afar, prioritizing your work over anything else.

“I–” You struggle to find the words to defend yourself. “I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, your words muffled. “I-I didn’t mean to! Y-You’re… He’s…”

The professional and stoic exterior you’ve maintained begins to crumble now that you’ve been caught red-handed.

But despite your panic, Jimin and Jungkook find your reaction completely endearing.

“She’s reacting exactly as cute as you said!” Jimin laughs, splashing water at Jungkook, who swims toward the pool ladder to get out.

“I didn’t realize she’d be this flustered, though!” Jungkook says, a hint of concern in his voice. He climbs out of the pool and walks toward you, dripping water onto the deck. “PD-nim, don’t worry about it.”

You peek through your fingers, still mortified, as Jungkook approaches, looking as attractive as ever with his body glistening from light reflecting on the remnants of water falling down his body. His expression is soft, reassuring, and it only makes your heart race faster.

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re just teasing you,” His voice is light and teasing as he floats lazily in the pool “We’re not uncomfortable. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Jungkook nods, his expression gentle yet probing. “Yup! You’ve been nothing but professional this whole time. We just noticed that… maybe there’s more beneath the surface.”

Jimin gracefully lifts himself out of the pool and takes the seat on your other side. His presence is both comforting and disarming. “It’s like there’s something you’re holding back,” he adds, his tone hiding something deeper. “Something you’re denying yourself.”

You exhale slowly, trying to steady your nerves. Internally, you’re awestruck. It’s like they read you like a book. The intensity of their gazes still makes your heart race. Before you can respond, Jungkook’s eyes drop to your chest, his smile turning playful again.

“You know,” he says, “I noticed the black bikini top peeking out from under your tank top earlier.”

Your breath catches as his fingers touch the straps that tie behind your neck. You’d planned to swim later, after filming, wearing the bikini under your tank top and maxi skirt. Seeing how much fun they were having, you’d wanted to join in. But now, with their attention focused on you, you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Jimin leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Why don’t you take off your clothes so we can see it better? We’ll help you~”

Take off your clothes?! Your heart pounds in your chest, the suggestion hanging in the air between you. The teasing is taking a turn, and you’re not sure how to respond. Saying no might kill the mood, and who knows what they’d think—or say. But if you say yes… there’s no telling where this might lead.

You’re not sure. But after a moment’s hesitation, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay…”

Jungkook gently takes hold of the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch is both soft and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine as he slowly lifts the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jungkook pulls the tank top over your head, revealing the black bikini top beneath. Your cleavage and the roundness of your breasts are on full display, which makes them slightly more excited. The cool air hits your skin, making you acutely aware of how exposed you are.

But the look in their eyes isn’t one of judgment—it’s something far more intense, more primal.

Jimin watches with a satisfied smile, his gaze flickering between you and Jungkook. “You don’t need to hide, okay?” he adds, his voice soft yet commanding. “We’re all just having a little fun, right?”

Jungkook’s hands linger on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the skin just above the waistband of your maxi skirt. “This too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper as he hooks his fingers under the fabric.

You glance at Jimin, who nods encouragingly, his eyes dark with anticipation. There’s no turning back now, and a part of you doesn’t want to.

With a gentle tug, Jimin helps you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it pool around your feet. You stand up, stepping out of it. Now, your body is fully on display in the black bikini that suddenly feels far more revealing than it did before.

Jimin’s smile widens as his gaze travels over you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “Wow, you look even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill through you.

“She’s really pretty,” Jungkook’s hands trail up your sides, his touch light but possessive. “Let’s go in the pool for a swim,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You’re momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of scenario, blinking in surprise. The intensity of the moment shifts, and both Jimin and Jungkook burst into soft giggles at your reaction. Before you can say anything, Jungkook takes your hands and, with a mischievous grin, pulls you up from the lounge chair.

In one swift motion, he lifts you into his arms, the strength in his hold both reassuring and thrilling. “Hold on tight,” he says, winking at you before he leaps into the pool, bringing you along with him.

“Huh!? Wahh!!” The water rushes around you, cool and refreshing as you both plunge beneath the surface.

When you resurface, laughing and splashing, Jimin stands at the edge, watching with amusement. “Wait for me!” he calls out before executing a perfect cannonball right between you and Jungkook, sending a wave of water crashing over both of you.

The three of you laugh as the playful atmosphere takes over. The tension from earlier dissolves into something lighthearted and fun. In the pool, you play a variety of games: splashing water at each other, racing from one end to the other, seeing who can hold their breath the longest, and even attempting to dunk each other under the water.

You become more familiar with them and vice versa.

Jimin and Jungkook take turns lifting you up and tossing you into the deeper end, your laughter echoing in the night. At one point, Jungkook even suggests a round of “chicken fight,” where Jimin hoists you onto his shoulders while Jungkook does the same with an imaginary opponent, both of you trying to push each other off into the water.

As the night progresses, the games become more relaxed, the three of you floating side by side, your bodies gently swaying with the ripples of the water.

Maybe this is all that’s going to happen. Maybe you were overthinking any other scenario. They were just teasing you because you were staring at them throughout the filming. You guys are gonna call it a night, right?

Right–

“Y/N, can I touch your breasts.”

The sudden question jolts you out of your thoughts, and you quickly stand up in the pool, water cascading off your skin. Jungkook is closer now, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that wasn’t there before. His eyes are darker, a smoldering intensity taking over the playful spark you’re used to.

You swallow hard, caught completely off guard. “Is there… a reason?” you manage to ask, your voice coming out shakier than you’d like. You are on the bigger side than most girls here, so it’s not entirely surprising that your chest caught his eye.

Jungkook steps even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “I’m just curious,” he says softly, his voice low and almost hypnotic. “I want to see how they feel.”

Your heart races, every nerve in your body tingling as the situation escalates far beyond anything you’d imagined. You can’t believe this is happening, and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.

“Uh… sure,” you respond, barely above a whisper, your cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

Jungkook’s hand moves slowly, deliberately, under the cup of your bikini top. His touch is tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment, but then his fingers press more firmly against your skin, exploring the softness with a deliberate curiosity. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his thumb brush against your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

The sensation is heightened by the sight of his tattooed right arm, the intricate patterns of his sleeve adding a dark contrast to his skin. The ink swirls and curves with every movement, the bold lines almost mesmerizing as his hand continues its exploration.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatens to escape, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch. The water feels warmer now, the atmosphere is charged with sexual tension. Luckily the cameras outside are now off, but you still can’t let the staff in the building next door hear anything going on.

Jimin, who had been floating nearby, quietly watching, now moves closer as well, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Jungkook,” he says softly, his voice a gentle reminder that he’s there too, “Don’t hog all the fun.”

Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hand still lingering on your skin as he glances at Jimin with a playful smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jimin leans closer, his gaze intent and voice soft. “I’m going to touch you too, is that okay?”

You nod, anticipation and nervousness swirling within you.

Jimin’s hand moves under the bikini cup to grasp your left breast, his touch gentle yet confident as he begins to explore. His fingers graze and play with your nipple, causing a shiver to run through your body. His thumb and forefingers move in careful back and forth motions. Tenderly tweaking them, carefully observing the way your face reacts to his every touch. He appears as if he is under a trance, and looks at you with such a need in his eyes.

The sensation is heightened by Jungkook, who leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m gonna remove your top so I can suck on them a bit,” He says shyly, pausing for a moment to untie your bikini straps from the back of your neck and remove your bikini top, before lowering his head and softly pressing his lips to your nipple, his tongue darting out to tease.

His hands push your breasts together as his tongue caresses the inner curves of your tits, swirling his tongue across them. Your hands are on his shoulders as he continues, licking every inch of your chest, nuzzling his face between them and leaving kisses along the path. His tongue flicks your right nipple and your breathing hitches in your throat. Despite the water in the way, you can feel yourself becoming wet from below.

Jimin watches, clearly intrigued, and soon follows suit, his mouth finding the other breast. He rubs his mouth along it, giving it a couple of kisses then wrapping his lips around it. Suctioning and taking in the tit with such hungry delight.

You feel like you have whiplash, as you cry out from the warmth of their mouths on your skin, your back arches off of the wall of the pool. You want to touch them, reach for them, feel the silkiness of his hair in your grasp.

But Jimin doesn’t let up, taking his time licking slowly around your areola until your nipple perks up, hard and stiff. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and with the sudden cold from the night air, it feels all too much.

Jungkook looks up at you through his wet hair, through black lashes as he widens his mouth over your breast, his teeth bared, scraping the fat of your breast without ever breaking the skin. You cry out in a cluster of pleasure, maybe pain, as your senses are confused about all of the sensations at once.

Despite the feelings of them against you, their actions are synchronized and perfectly in tune with each other.

The pool’s gentle ripples and breeze seem to fade into the background as the focus narrows to the intimate touch of the two men. Their movements are tender and explorative, a blend of curiosity and desire that leaves you breathless and overwhelmed.

Your mind is fighting for dear life to stay sane and not lose to your animalistic urges,

“Let’s get out of the pool,” Jungkook commands, his voice firm yet enticing. “I want you to sit back on that daybed couch, baby.”

The shift in how he’s addressing you in the past 45 minutes is striking—both intimate and commanding. You nod, your body responding almost instinctively to his command as you all exit the pool. The three of you walk over to the poolside daybed, water dripping off your bodies, cooling in the night.

You sink into the plush cushions, the soft fabric cool against your heated skin. The daybed is large, designed for lounging, but right now, it feels like the center of something much more intense. Jungkook and Jimin kneel on either side of you, their knees pressing into the mattress as they lean over you, their wet bodies glistening under the soft pool lights.

You look at both of them, a daring thought forming in your mind. “I want to… lick at your chests too,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of eagerness, shyness and uncertainty.

The thought of exploring the contrasting textures of their skin, the difference in their nipples under your tongue, is almost overwhelming. You wonder how each will react, the mere anticipation making your breath catch.

Jimin’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “Go ahead,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of encouragement and desire. “We’re here for you.”

Jungkook watches intently, his gaze dark with expectation. “We’re all yours,” he says softly, his tone dripping with promise.

You reach out tentatively, your fingers brushing against their chests to feel the firmness of their muscles under your touch. The warmth of their skin sends a shiver down your spine as you explore the contours of their bodies. Your hands glide over Jungkook's chest first, pausing to tease his nipples with your fingertips gently. His breath hitches, a low hum of approval escaping his lips as he watches you with darkened eyes.

Encouraged by his reaction, you lean in closer, your mouth hovering just above his skin. You start with a soft kiss on his chest before taking one of his small chocolate nipples into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it in a slow, deliberate motion. Jungkook’s hand instinctively reaches up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he lets out a quiet groan of pleasure. His chest rises and falls more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to tease him, alternating between gentle licks and firmer sucks.

The sound of his pleasure fuels your desire, making you want to elicit even more reactions from him. But as you pull back slightly, your gaze shifts to Jimin, who has been watching with equal intensity. His eyes are filled with anticipation, his lips slightly parted as if he’s already imagining what it will feel like when it’s his turn.

You move towards Jimin, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest as you did with Jungkook. His skin feels different—softer, yet still firm beneath your touch. Just below his right breast, he has a delicate script tattoo, the word "Nevermind" inked in elegant, flowing letters. You've always found it sexy, this handwritten tattoo adds a personal touch to his perfectly sculpted body.

His nipples are also differently shaped, bigger, and a bit lighter in color. You can feel the slight tremble in his body as you gently roll his nipple between your fingers before leaning in to taste him. Your mouth closes over his nipple, your tongue flicking against it in a teasing rhythm that draws a sharp inhale from him. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly as you continue to explore him with your mouth.

Jimin’s reactions are more subtle, yet no less intense. His soft moans mix with Jungkook’s heavier breathing, creating a symphony of sounds that only heighten your own arousal. The way their bodies respond to your touch, the contrast in their reactions, drives you to explore further, to discover just how much pleasure you can bring them.

You pull back slightly, glancing toward the large doors that separate the pool area from the rest of the accommodation. A flicker of concern crosses your mind, and you bite your lip before whispering, “You two need to stay quiet. We don’t want anyone overhearing us.”

Any slight mistake and you will lose your job, remember?

Jimin and Jungkook exchange a glance, their playful expressions tinged with a shared understanding. They nod, their eyes never leaving yours as they silently agree to your request. But just as you start to relax, your actions come to a stop when you feel them guiding your hands downwards, placing them on their lower bodies.

Your breath catches as your fingers wrap around their growing hardness, the heat and firmness of their cocks hidden under their swim trunks pressing against your palms. Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear. “I’ve wanted to feel you so bad for months now,” he confesses, his voice low and thick with desire.

Jungkook, not to be outdone, adds in a hushed tone, his eyes glinting with a dark sparkle, “Me too. You don’t know how much you’ve been driving us crazy.”

Their words send a thrill through you, intensifying the moment. You didn’t realize you were having this effect on them. You look at them both, their shared longing evident in their eyes. Slowly, you pull their members out from their swim trunks, your heart racing as you position yourself between them, sinking to your knees on the cushioned daybed.

Oh fuck…

The size difference even extends to their dicks. Jungkook’s is much longer, with veins prominent on its sides. Jimin’s is shorter, but the girth is insane. You can’t help but imagine how they’d feel inside your pussy. No, you can’t get ahead of yourself Y/N. Not yet at least…

With a mixture of boldness and anticipation, you lean down, your lips parting as you begin to lick at their members, starting with soft, tentative strokes of your tongue. The sensation of their heated skin against your tongue is intoxicating, their quiet groans spurring you on. You alternate between them, your tongue tracing the veins along their lengths, savoring the contrast in texture and taste.

Jimin’s breath hitches as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his member, the salty taste mingling with the slickness of your saliva. His fingers suddenly tighten in your hair, but he remains obediently quiet, the tension in his body evident as he struggles to hold back his angelic voice.

You shift to Jungkook, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sucking. His quiet sounds of pleasure are like music to your ears, the low hums of approval vibrating. His hands rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding you as you take him deeper, feeling the way his body responds to every movement of your tongue.

At the same time, your hand reaches out to Jimin, wrapping around his throbbing length. You start stroking him with a steady rhythm, making sure to keep him engaged, the sensation of your fingers gliding over his slick skin keeping his arousal high. Jimin’s breath hitches, his eyes half-lidded with desire as he watches you.

The two of them try their best to stay quiet, but the occasional gasp, lust-filled phrases or whispered name of yours slips out, betraying their growing need.

“You’re so good at this PD nim…”

“Y/N, you’re so fucking fine…”

“Such a good girl, Y/N…”

“Fuck, right there…”

The thrill of their restraint only heightens your own arousal, driving you to explore them further, your lips and tongue working in tandem to bring them closer to the edge.

While working your mouth over Jungkook, you feel Jimin’s hand sliding up your body, his fingers brushing against your wet skin before cupping your breast. His thumb grazes over your nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. The dual feeling—Jimin’s touch on your breast and Jungkook’s heat filling your mouth—intensifies the moment, driving you to pleasure them both with renewed focus.

The tension in the atmosphere thickens, all your quiet breaths turning into ragged gasps. You can feel the subtle changes in their bodies, the way their muscles tighten, and the way their grips on you grow firmer. The anticipation builds, and you know they’re close, teetering on the edge of release.

Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice low and filled with need. “Y/N… can I come on your chest?” His eyes are dark with lust, the words almost a plea.

Jungkook isn’t far behind, his voice breathless and shaky as he adds, “And I–I want to come in your mouth. Is that okay?”

The heat in their words sends a shiver down your spine. You pause, looking up at them, their faces flushed with desire.

“Y-Yes that’s fine with me,” You nod, your consent clear in your eyes and the slight smile that tugs at your lips.

With their requests granted, you resume your ministrations with renewed intensity. Your hands work in tandem, stroking their members with a firm, steady rhythm while your tongue flicks and teases them both. The taste of them lingers on your tongue, salty and intoxicating, driving you to push them further, to bring them to the edge of ecstasy.

Their breaths quicken, and you can tell they’re both struggling to hold back, to savor the moment as long as possible. But the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon their restraint begins to falter.

Jungkook’s voice is the first to crack, a desperate whisper as he warns you, “I’m close… so close…”

Jimin removes his hand from your hair. Instead, Jungkook’s hand, adorned with intricate tattoos and the bold "ARMY" inked across his knuckles, slides from your shoulder to your hair this time. The grip is firm and possessive, his fingers weaving into your strands with a fierce, almost primal hold. The veins beneath his tattooed skin pulsate as he uses his arm to guide you closer, pushing himself deeper into you with each powerful thrust. His tattooed bicep flexes with every movement, demonstrating his strength and control, while the rhythmic thrusts become more urgent.

Jimin's breath hitches as soft, erotic moans escape his lips, each sound laced with urgency to let go. His voice quivers, with a strained yet sensual whisper, “Me too… I’m going to come…” The words tumble out in a series of ragged breaths

With one last, deliberate stroke of your hand and a final suck, you push them both over the edge.

“F-Fuck!” Jimin lets out a guttural groan as he releases, his hot seed spilling onto your breasts, painting your skin with his pleasure. The warmth of it spreads across your breasts, the sensation almost surreal as you continue to stroke him, milking out every last drop.

At the same time, Jungkook’s hips buck slightly as he comes, the hot, salty taste of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow him down eagerly, your tongue swirling around him to milk him of every last bit. The taste of him lingers, warm and slightly bitter, but satisfying in a way that leaves you wanting more.

The sounds they make—those broken moans, the gasps of pleasure—echo in your ears, a symphony of gratification. Their bodies tremble with the aftershocks of their orgasms, their hands gentle but insistent as they guide you through the final moments of their release.

When they’ve finally come down from the high, their breathing ragged but steadying, they look down at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. The sight of you, your chest slick with Jimin’s release and your lips still wet from Jungkook seems to stir something deeper in them—a shared sense of intimacy that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. Your fingers move instinctively, collecting Jimin’s release and bringing it to your lips, savoring the taste as you clean yourself, erasing the evidence of what just transpired. The sensation is both surreal and thrilling, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the air.

Jungkook's voice breaks through the haze, his tone a mix of innocence and desire. “PD-nim, can we do more with you?” His eyes sparkle with the same enthusiasm you’ve seen during filming, making it nearly impossible to deny him.

“H-Huh!? Oh…” you stammer, caught off guard. That look in his eyes—it’s almost impossible to resist. But a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you should be heading back before the other staff starts wondering where you are.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick!” Jimin adds, his voice smooth and coaxing, making it even harder to stick to your resolve. “We can eat you out, or we can penetr—”

Before he can finish, another voice cuts through the tension, startling you. “Oh… so that’s what you guys were doing?”

You turn your head sharply to see Taehyung standing there, now wearing swim trunks, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart races, the sudden realization hitting you like a wave. “Oh my God, I forgot about Taehyung…” you gasp, instinctively trying to cover yourself, though it’s far too late for modesty.

“Hey, I thought you were going to head to bed?” Jimin narrows his eyes at the slightly younger man. He must’ve been watching you all this entire time, he thinks.

He chuckles, an amused glint in his eyes as he takes in the scene. “I thought you guys were still playing in the pool or something… but I’m not surprised things ended up this way. You two are always up to shit like this.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, clearly unimpressed yet intrigued.

“Huh?” you manage to squeak out, your mind reeling. Always up to shit like this? What’s that supposed to mean–

Taehyung’s smirk deepens, and he steps closer. “Anyways, I’m bored. Let me join in too,” he says casually with a boxy smile, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I won’t disappoint heh~”

He winks. HE WINKS!

The three members of the BTS maknae line look at you deviously, waiting to pounce on you at your command.

“I don’t think we should be–”

“Are you sure?” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison.

“I… “ The title of the show is going to come back to haunt you.

“I’m not sure…?” You can’t find yourself to say no, having already gone to the deep end.

You will be closer to getting fired if you get caught at this rate, but to hell with it, “Okay, fine!”

And immediately, they’re all over your body, reigniting the hidden flame in your heart that reminds you how much you loved them as a fan years before. You won’t survive this.

“Come over here,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice deep and commanding as he settles against the pillows of the daybed. He props himself up, making sure he’s comfortable, then motions for you to crawl in front of him.

Your heart races as you move into position, with Jungkook and Jimin on each side of you, their eyes dark with lust. The daybed is deep enough that you’re perfectly nestled between them.

As you get closer to Taehyung, you feel his hands sliding up your thighs, tugging lightly at the waistband of your bikini bottoms. You gasp softly, a thrill running through you as he pulls them down slowly, exposing your wetness. The sensation sends a shiver through you, heightening your anticipation and eagerness to get this over with. You lift your hips slightly to help him slide them off completely, leaving you fully exposed.

Taehyung’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

He props himself up with the pillows behind his head, his hands settling on your hips as he guides you closer. “Sit on my face,” he tells you, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Your breath catches at the bold command, but the heat in his eyes, the way his hands grip your hips, sends a rush of excitement through you. You move to straddle him, your heart pounding as you position yourself over his face. Jungkook and Jimin remain close, their hands brushing over your body, adding to the growing heat between you all.

As you lower yourself onto his waiting mouth, the first touch of his tongue against your most sensitive spot sends a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

“A-Ah~ T-Taehyung…” You gasp, your fingers gripping the daybed as Taehyung’s tongue begins to work its magic, teasing and tasting you with skillful precision.

Taehyung’s tongue explores you, from your clit to your entrance. His mouth working in a rhythm that leaves you breathless, and your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jimin and Jungkook are on either side of you, their hands moving to your breasts, where they each take a breast in their grasp. Their mouths soon follow, lips closing over your nipples as they begin to suck and tease you with their tongues once more. The dual sensation of Taehyung’s mouth on you and the boys’ attention on your breasts sends your mind reeling, pleasure coursing through you to unleash an orgasm. But you need to be patient and let it continue consuming you.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, tugging off Taehyung’s trunks with a practiced ease before wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s impressive length. The sight makes your eyes widen, but you aren’t entirely surprised by their actions—after all, you’ve seen how touchy BTS are with one another. Even filming earlier in the day and even back in the States. But this? Seeing them work together to push you to the brink of pleasure only makes you even hornier.

And Taehyung’s dick… it’s massive, much bigger than the other two. The way his tan skin contrasts with the thick, veined shaft is mesmerizing, almost too much to take in. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside you, making you ache with the anticipation of trying it next time.

Jimin, not to be outdone, reaches over to stroke Jungkook, his touch slow and deliberate, making sure to keep him just as aroused. His free hand slips down to touch himself, fingers wrapping around his own length as he matches the pace. The sensation of their hands moving in tandem, coupled with the attention they’re lavishing on you, makes your body tremble with need.

You ride Taehyung’s face, grinding down against his mouth as his tongue works magic on you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can. Your hands clutch the edges of the daybed for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you lose yourself in the sensations they’re giving you. Since you’re facing outwards, Taehyung’s hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer, deepening the connection between his mouth and your most sensitive spot. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he devours you with renewed intensity. He gives it a slap, which makes you cringe before you go back to indulging in the pleasure.

The feeling of the two men’s mouths on your breasts, Taehyung’s tongue inside you, and the sight of their hands pleasuring each other is almost too much to bear. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body quivering with the need to release.

Jimin and Jungkook suck harder on your nipples, their teeth grazing them just enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Taehyung’s tongue flicks and swirls with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, finally, it all becomes too much. The pleasure explodes within you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body tenses, your thighs clenching around Taehyung’s head as you ride out the waves of ecstasy, the sensation amplified by the boys’ continued ministrations.

As the last tremors of your orgasm fade, you collapse forward slightly, your body spent and trembling. Taehyung gently guides you off him, his lips slick with your arousal, and you fall onto the daybed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook quickly follow, their own bodies shuddering as they reach their peaks, their releases mingling, landing onto each others bodies or the fabric beneath them.

Now the three of you lay there, breathless and spent, with limbs piled on top of each other. The air is thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, however a yearning for more still remains. The outdoor area is quiet, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, as you all come down from the high of your shared pleasure.

Jungkook leans in close, his voice low and filled with unfulfilled desire. “I’m so eager to fuck you, but I’ll wait until tomorrow after the itinerary is done,” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering with lust as he looks down at you.

Jimin, still tenderly stroking your skin, adds with a soft smile, “We don’t want you getting into trouble, PD-nim. We’ll be patient.”

You manage a weak smile, your mind swirling with the aftershocks of what just happened. “How have the staff not conveniently come in to check on us?” you wonder aloud, your voice shaky with exhaustion and disbelief.

The three of them exchange a glance, a shared understanding passing between them.

Don’t say that the staff are aware that they’re doing this…!? Taehyung’s words from earlier were already… odd, but you decide not to think too hard on it right now. You need to head back anyway, so let’s keep this drama-free, you think to yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time you hear about idols doing these things.

They begin to clean you up, wiping away the evidence of your intense encounter. They’re gentle, their touches soothing as they take care of you, ensuring that you’re comfortable before helping you to your feet to get dressed.

They walk you to the door, each of them pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before they see you out, their eyes filled with satisfaction. You step out, your mind reeling from the events that just transpired.

“Oh my god…” you say to yourself in a whisper.

As you walk away from the daybed, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation—tangled up with the three members of BTS in a way you never could have imagined. The memory of their hands, their mouths, their words lingers with you, a heady reminder of the connection you’ve just shared. And though you know the risks, the dangers of what you’ve done, you can’t bring yourself to regret a single moment.

With a deep breath, you start heading back to your accommodation, telling yourself you still have more days of this show’s filming to go. And more chance encounters with them as well.

The End????

A/N: HAPPY SURPRISE ONE SHOT DROP! OKAY. ALSO I HAD PLANNED TO BLUE BALL YOU GUYS AND NOT GIVE YOU A TAE SCENE BUT RAE SAID I SHOULD WRITE IT SO I DID! I've seen all y'all thirsting over are you sure?! and honestly, the maknae line really FED US SO WELL WITH THIS SHOW. also never in my life did i think there would be no censoring of their bodies, but thank you god for allowing us to indulge in their beauty and cute antics lmao. if you somehow survived this and made it to the end, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think or like bc i was going THROUGH IT writing this 🥴 if it wasn’t good, i am so sorry for wasting your time. 😭

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ctrlhope · 7 months ago

Text

The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he��s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

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call-me-amanda · 8 months ago

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𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱 • 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗗𝗮𝘆𝘀

↳ 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

↳ 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 | 𝚗𝚊𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎

↳ 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 | 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎

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wildestdreamsblog · 25 days ago

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Might as well be drunk in love: 3 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

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

A/N: HAPPY HOSEOK'S DAY! We made it! 2/7!!

Part 1, Part 2

Your smile was genuine when you met Kim Taehyung’s eyes.

Unlike the others who were punctual, he was a minute late. He was grinning though like he had a secret he couldn’t wait to share to you.

“You seem happy, Taehyung,” you remarked as you stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking with each heartbeat. With his hands tucked into his pockets, he waited eagerly for you to reach him. The only indication of his bubbling excitement was the way he bounced slightly on his feet. He looked so much lighter in this light, you noticed, the usual darkness in his eyes was nowhere to be found.

He looked truly happy like the sun had decided to shine just for him.

“I am,” he said, his grin widening even more. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. How can he not be happy when you were near? “You’re here with me. With us. How can I not be happy?” he murmured, gently pulling your hand into his and clasping your fingers tightly.

You blinked, surprised by his blatant statement. The potion was indeed so powerful that even the cold Taehyung turned into this kind of person you would want for you own had it been a different circumstance. You thought that whoever he would choose to love after all this fiasco would be the luckiest person.

However, you chose to not dwell on his statement. You were extremely happy with the good news your friend shared with you. There would be a cure soon, and you just knew that you would be nothing to him and all of them after this but a fleeting memory. You decided to hold on for a little while longer, and maybe just lived in the moment where this was a possibility. Sooner rather than later, they would go back to not knowing and caring who you were.

You cleared your throat, “So, where are you taking me?”

Taehyung took a sip from his coffee, the takeout food laid on either side of you on the bench. A smile tugged at your lips at the peculiarity of it all—here was one of the richest men in South Korea, someone with immense influence, choosing to share a simple day in the park with you. It felt surreal, the laughter of children and rustling leaves wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“This is really good,” he hummed appreciatively, his eyes lighting up as he sampled one of the dishes from the food truck. “And it’s really cheap. I cannot believe those fancy restaurants charge so much when the food is just so-so.”

“Right? Finally, someone from the rich admitted it!” you laughed, your voice mingling with the sounds of the park. “I always wondered if the taste buds of the rich are just inherently different from us. There’s no way you guys are satisfied with those little servings of dishes. Also, is this your first time eating here?”

“Yes…” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the pond sheepishly. “I always wanted to do this with a girlfriend. You know, those TV dramas show how romantic this is.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his confession and the innocence in his voice. The sincerity of his confession made him endearing, if not more. “So, here we are, living the drama, huh? Too bad you didn’t do this with your real girlfriend.”

He glared at you, his expression mock-serious, before playfully snatching your hand and fully enclosing it with his. “You’re my real girlfriend,” he grumbled childishly, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Your heart raced at the sudden intimacy, warmth flooding through you. “Oh, really? Guess I should start practicing my dramatic sighs and longing gazes then,” you teased, squeezing his hand gently.

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin, his earlier shyness melting away. “I expect nothing less from my leading lady.”

It was a nice lunch out which should have ended as nicely as it started.

But you should have known your wish was too good to be true.

You were walking with him on your way back to the office when he randomly decided to go back and buy his brothers takeout food. He claimed that since he thoroughly enjoyed it, his brothers should too so that they would know just what they were missing. He asked you to wait for a little while before he turned back. And you did. You were contented with scrolling through your social media when you were interrupted.

“Excuse me, miss?” A man called for you, his smile was warm as he looked at you. “May I know what time it is?”

“Oh uhm, it’s 1:37,” you replied, glancing at the screen of your phone.

He thanked you politely before resuming his walk when he abruptly stopped. He chuckled sheepishly, looking at you over his lashes. “I really don’t need to know the time. I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this. You’re just so beautiful –”

“May I help you?” Taehyung’s voice suddenly cut through the air, firm yet protective as he reappeared, a bag of takeout in hand. He stepped in front of you, effectively blocking you from the other man’s view. His face was void of any emotion, yet he managed to terrify the man.

The man straightened, clearly caught off guard. Taehyung’s presence shifted the atmosphere, his expression a mix of confusion and an underlying feeling of intimidation. “Uh, I was just… asking the time,” the man stammered, taking a step back.

Taehyung’s gaze narrowed slightly, a hint of a challenge in his posture. “Right. And now you’ve got the time. Anything else?”

“Man, I’m not looking for any trouble. I-I just really thought she’s single. I meant no harm!” the man protested, his voice shaky.

“Why are you still here?” Taehyung whispered, the sound of irritation was heavy in his tone. “Why are you still looking at my woman?” He asked, the words coming out as a low growl, each syllable deliberate and heavy.

The air between you crackled with tension as the man’s face blanched, realizing he had crossed a line. He raised his hands defensively, backing away further. “I—I didn’t know! Sorry, I just thought—”

“Thought what?” Taehyung pressed, taking a step forward, his stance unwavering. “That it was okay to interrupt her? To make her uncomfortable?” He was too close to the man, his hands closed to a fist as though he was just one look away from exploding. “That you can steal her away from us?!”

How could you ever think that he was something other than the darkness that was caging his heart? How could you ever be so naïve? “Hey, it’s fine. He didn’t bother me at all,” you interjected gently, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated further. “Let’s just let him go.”

Gone was the sweet man you perceived him to be not long ago, and in his place was the darkness you always knew him to be when he slowly turned around after the man swiftly escaped the situation. “Remember this, little one,” he started, his voice grave yet commanding, a blend of promise and threat. “We are the only one for you.”

You couldn't shake off the discomfort that Taehyung's interaction had stirred within you.

You were deep in your thoughts, terror and anxiety in your heart. He was the third in the schedule and you still had four to go. All the interactions you had with the boys so far only made you see the warning signs flashing in your mind. This was a wrong decision. You should have heeded your friend’s warning about spending time with them and avoided skinship as much as possible.

You should have focused on finding the cure. However, you couldn’t just turn your back on them, not when they all acted like they were on their deathbeds as though you were the only cure, badly needing you to take their next breath. The weight of their dependency tugged at your conscience, making it harder to escape the turmoil that surrounded you. Hence, your predicament.

Taehyung’s reaction was too much. The potion was turning them into jealous, possessive men, their natural temperaments amplified into something almost unrecognizable. It had only been three days since the potion had taken effect, yet it seemed to amplify their emotions, turning them into jealous, clingy versions of themselves. You felt a chill run down your spine as you recalled the way his eyes had darkened, how intense his gaze had been, as if he saw you as something he needed to protect at all costs.

Consumed by these unsettling thoughts, you almost forgot about Jungkook entirely. His presence had slipped into the background amidst the chaos Taehyung’s behavior had caused. That is, until the hurried sound of footsteps interrupted your spiral. You turned, startled, to find a group of Jungkook’s guards, their expressions tight with fear. Wide-eyed and breathless, they approached you swiftly, the urgency in their movements sending a wave of panic through you.

“What—what’s happening?” you stammered, confusion mixing with dread.

“Mr. Jeon… he’s not well,” another guard murmured, his tone serious. “It’s bad.”

Your heart sank as the weight of their words hit you. Jungkook was not well. If Taehyung’s possessiveness had shaken you, the thought of Jungkook in a similar state terrified you even more. Without hesitation, you followed them, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

As you neared his floor, the muffled sounds of destruction reached you—sharp crashes, the unmistakable sound of something heavy being thrown, followed by a guttural, enraged grunt. The noise alone made your skin crawl, but you pushed forward.

“Go in,” one of the guards pleaded, his voice quiet but urgent as you hesitated. You could hear the familiar voices of Jin and Namjoon on the other side of the door, their tones strained as they attempted to calm him.

“Jungkook, breathe,” Namjoon was saying, his voice low, trying to inject calm into the chaos.

“Come on, it’s okay,” Jin added, though the strain in his voice betrayed the calm facade he was trying to maintain. “She’ll be here. She didn’t leave… relax.”

The guard beside you pushed the door open, leaving you no choice but to face your oversight. Suffice to say, the scene before you sent a fresh wave of fear through your body.

Jungkook’s office was a mess. Papers were scattered across the floor, a desk chair lay on its side, and the corner of the large wooden desk had a jagged crack running through it as if something—or someone—had hit it too hard. A shattered vase lay in pieces, its contents scattered across the floor.

In the center of the chaos stood Jungkook. His back was to you, his broad shoulders heaving with labored breaths, fists clenched tightly at his sides. Even from where you stood, you could feel the tension radiating off him like a living thing. His stark, dark hair was disheveled, his usually sharp, precise appearance completely undone by whatever storm was raging inside him.

You knew you caused it. You were aware of you effect on them, but heavens, you didn’t know it to be this bad.

Namjoon was the first to notice you. His draconic eyes, once calm and calculating, now burned with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. The second your startled gaze met his, you saw it—the darkness swirling in him, consuming him. He hadn’t seen you since last night, and the distance had frayed his already strained control. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as if he were holding himself back from lunging at you. He needed you. Desperately.

But the leader in him fought against the urge, restraining the primal hunger clawing at his insides. He knew he had to hold back—for now. The others needed you just as much as he did. He could wait. He had to wait. His fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the struggle within him.

He could wait until tonight.

He had to.

“Thank God,” Jin breathed when he noticed your presence. He stepped away from Jungkook.

Jungkook’s head snapped up the moment you stepped further into the room. His body froze, as though sensing your presence before even turning to look at you. Slowly, he turned around, and the intensity in his eyes when they locked onto yours was nearly suffocating. His dark eyes, wide with emotion, bore into you, his lips parted slightly as he struggled to catch his breath.

The room went still as Jungkook’s gaze never wavered from you. You could feel the raw intensity behind his eyes, the same kind of possessiveness you had seen in Taehyung but magnified tenfold in Jungkook. It wasn’t just desperation; it was obsession, need, something far more dangerous than mere jealousy.

“You…” he stammered; his voice rough from all the screaming he had done. His words were laced with desperation and disbelief. “Y-you didn’t leave us, Noona?”

The room was too silent as though their stability rested entirely on your next move. You knew you had to thread extremely carefully.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, your knees locked. You brain was screaming for you to run away from him. “Jungkook,” you whispered, his name fragile on your lips.

It was him who decided for you.

He hated the distance. It gnawed at him, fraying what little control he had left. He took a step forward, his fists still clenched, muscles tense as if he were fighting some invisible restraint. “Don’t leave me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was a command beneath the words. His hands caressed your cheeks and tilted you face to meet his eyes. “You… you can’t leave me. You cannot leave us.”

He didn’t let you leave. And you couldn’t as well, not when he was visibly distraught. Most especially, not when his arms were wrapped around you like a vine. Before you knew it, you were lying on the sofa in his office, Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you like vines, pulling you impossibly close. His body pressed against yours, seeking warmth, seeking comfort. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his emotions was palpable. His grip on you never loosened, his head buried in the crook of your neck as if he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

The only reassurance he seemed to accept was having you there, physically close to him, where he could feel you, touch you, and know that you hadn’t disappeared. But as comforting as your presence was to him, it left you uncomfortable, stressed by the weight of the situation. Jungkook was too close, his grip too tight, and the intensity of it all made your mind scream for space, for distance. But you couldn’t move—not when each time you tried to shift even slightly, he would hold on tighter, and the quiet, broken sobs would return, muffled against your skin.

Your unlikely savior came at exactly 3 in the afternoon.

Min Yoongi opened the door in a relaxed manner as though he was the owner of the office, his bored eyes finding your form on the sofa. His relaxed demeanor was a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the room. Jungkook hadn’t noticed him yet, but you softly calling Yoongi’s name alerted him of his presence —more a sigh of relief than an actual greeting—it was enough to pull Jungkook’s attention. Yoongi raised his brow at Jungkook, his expression impassive as ever, a silent question if the younger man was finally okay. Jungkook’s only response was the slight untightening of his grip on you. The shift was hesitant, reluctant, but it was there. Slowly, his arms loosened, though his body still remained close, not quite ready to let you go entirely. His possessiveness had dulled, but it was far from gone.

Yoongi’s gaze softened when he turned it back to you, his expression warm and unexpectedly gentle. He knew what you had endured, the strain it had caused you, and for once, the sharp edges in his usually indifferent demeanor softened into something close to tenderness.

"Good afternoon, darling," Yoongi said in his low, easy drawl, a hint of amusement dancing behind his words. “I’ve come to save you.”

Yoongi knew how overwhelming and overstimulating things could be sometimes. For the life of him and despite the instincts screaming in his head to have you close, he chose to silently walk beside you. You had been through enough for today.

You didn’t even question where the two of you were going. It was like all the energy you had was drained from you. You were silent even as he closed the car door for you, was speechless even when he expertly drove away from the building. Min Yoongi was just exactly what you needed after the conundrum being with Jungkook brought.

“I know it was tough,” Yoongi said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two. His voice was low, steady, as though he had been waiting for the right moment to speak. His hands gripped the steering wheel loosely, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but you could feel the weight of his attention on you. Even without looking at you, Yoongi had this uncanny ability to make you feel seen, like he was always aware of what you needed before you even realized it yourself. “But still, thank you for calming him down.”

The soft hum of the car filled the space, and though you didn’t respond immediately, you knew Yoongi didn’t expect you to. From the short time that you were with them, you noticef that he had always been like that—patient, never pushing you to speak before you were ready. His quiet understanding was something that set him apart. There was no rush with him, no urgency to force words or explanations from you. Just his presence, calm and grounding, allowing you to gather your thoughts.

You nodded slowly, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. The memory of Jungkook’s desperate grip on you, the way he had refused to let you go, still lingered, and it was too raw to put into words. But Yoongi didn’t push. He never did. He was just… there, giving you the space to process, to breathe. “I owe it to all of you. This was all my fault…”

Yoongi’s gaze shifted toward you, and for a moment, he looked at you as though you’d just said something utterly ridiculous. His brow furrowed, and the corners of his lips tilted into a frown of disbelief. Then, with a sigh, he shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. How could you have known? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Min Yoongi was just the reprieved you needed. Where the others seemed consumed by their need for you, Yoongi remained steady, unaffected by the storm raging around them.

He took you home and told you that he already took care of your supervisor and said that you were needed for a meeting. A wave of gratitude washed over you, and you couldn’t help the small, tired smile that tugged at your lips. You didn’t know how to thank him properly, but it seemed Yoongi didn’t need grand gestures. His way of caring was quiet and understated, but it spoke volumes.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but Yoongi’s small nod told you he heard it.

Your schedule with him was calm, much like his demeanor. The kitchen felt like a small sanctuary, the aroma of garlic and herbs wafting through the air as you chopped vegetables together. The music of your choice filled the space, a playful backdrop to the evening.

You smiled to yourself, caught up in the moment. Suddenly, a chuckle broke your reverie. You turned to see him shaking his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Bad Romance by Lady Gaga?” he teased, but there was no edge to his words—just a warm acceptance of your quirky taste. You shrugged, a grin spreading across your face. It felt domestic, this shared moment, and you savored it. And yes, Bad Romance was truly a banger song.

But then, the atmospere shifted. Lost in thought, you almost missed his sudden remark. “I heard from Hoseok that your friend found a cure for the love potion.” His voice was steady, almost indifferent, yet you caught the tension in the way he gripped the counter, knuckles whitening against the cool surface. His eyes were focused on his task, a deliberate action on his part.

You nodded, surely this was good news for them, right?

“That’s…good.”

It did not sound like it was good. You considered asking him, pressing for clarity, but you hesitated. This was Yoongi, after all. He wasn’t a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve, and pushing too hard might cause him to withdraw further. But your instinct, the one that had kept you grounded in moments like this, told you to be careful. You trusted him, both him and Seokjin, but trust was a fragile thing—especially when it came to the men who surrounded you.

After you two finished cooking, he found you sitting on the sofa, mindlessly searching for what to watch when he lied down, his head resting on your legs. You looked down, surprised but not displeased. You noted how he refrained from physically touching you the past hour, his control and thoughtfulness of your situation did not go unnoticed by you. “I tried to hold off as long as I could,” he murmured, his eyes drifting closed as he settled in.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his dark hair. “Thank you for being considerate, Yoongi.” The weight of his head on your lap felt grounding, a connection that made the world outside seem distant.

It was five in the afternoon when you decided to freshen up. The entire day, despite it being only being afternoon, left you exhausted. It wasn’t just the physical exhaustion that clawed at you; it was the emotional toll of navigating conversations that felt more like tightrope walks than exchanges. Each word had to be measured, each response carefully calculated. It was like it would only take one wrong word for them to crumble. Each of them just as needy as the others.

It did not come as a surprise when you stepped out of the bathroom and found the one and only Park Jimin in your bedroom. His head was hanging low as he sat on your bed, his form slouched as he stared down. Gone was his suit, and his necktie hung loosely around his collar as though he had spent the entire day tugging at it.

“Jimin?”

Slowly, he looked up. His dark eyes were impassive, the usual glint gone. He looked so far from the sweet persona he usually had, and in his place was a man that was emitting dangerous vibes. “Little one,” he called, his voice low and toneless. “I heard your...” he trailed off, his scoffed a telltale sign of what exactly he was feeling. “-friend found us a cure.”

You blinked owlishly, caught off guard with how displeased he looked. He raised his brow at your prolonged silence, “What’s wrong, honey?” He stood up and sauntered to you, his faux concern so thick that you could almost choke at it. “All seven of us are sick from that love potion, right? So it’s only correct that we get the ‘cure’, right?”

You looked up to meet his eyes as he neared you, his chest almost touching yours from his proximity. “Are we sick to you, little one?”

“I—” you started, your heart beating fast from his line of questioning. The intensity of his line of questioning made your pulse quicken. He tilted his head, his finger catching droplets of water that had escaped from your hair, trailing slowly down your neck.

“Hmm? You what?” His voice was low, teasing yet laced with something darker.

“I just want you all to return to your normal life,” you answered truthfully. “I know everything happening is not normal for any of you. Your life does not involve around…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “This chaos. You deserve to be free.”

He paused with his ministration, his hand hovering near your chest. A flicker of something crossed his face and you failed to decipher whether it was from amusement or annoyance. He stepped even impossibly closer. He looked down at you and whispered something that terrified you. “Did you ask us if we want to go back to how it was? Little one, did you even ask if we need a cure?”

Involuntarily, your foot took a step back. The weight of his words came crushing down on you. You were shaking your head even before he could finish saying his piece. You thought that it was a ridiculous thought anyway. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Park Jimin. None of what you’re all feeling is real,” you implored him, willing his true self to understand what you were saying, and not the version of himself that was ‘in love’ with you. “This potion-it’s not who you are.”

His gaze held steady, dark and penetrating as though what you said set off something in him…something they all tried so hard to contain. “And what will you do if this is who we want to be? What if we want these versions of ourselves that are so utterly in love with you, little one? What then?”

You felt your breath hitched at every word and expose he was telling you. “But it’s a lie. You can’t love something or someone that’s been forced upon you. This isn’t love. You have to know that.”

It was a little while before he even responded again as silence enveloped the room. The only indication that he heard you was that subtle tilt in his head. “I see you still see all this as lovesickness and not destiny.”

“Because it is!” you insisted, the desperation for him to see the truth made your voice rose. “You can’t really believe that this is meant to be!”

Jimin shook his head, strands of his hair cascading on his forehead, breaking the carefully gelled up appearance of his. “You’ll get sick, too,” he whispered as though it was an omen, as though foretelling a fate that even you couldn’t comprehend.

But you would later on.

You heard him wrong…right? There was no way he said that.

“What?” The word came out as breathless gasp, disbelief flooding your senses.

He smiled innocently, the sudden playfulness in his expression felt like a mask. “Let me dry your hair before you get sick, little one.” His tone may have seemed so casual, yet it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew you couldn’t talk sense into him, not when the seven of them were neck-deep in the effects of that love potion. Furthermore, you knew that insisting that what they were all feeling was far from reality would only leave them feeling abandoned by the supposedly love of their lives: you. You couldn’t make them see reason, at least not now.

Right now, the only way to calm down the simmering annoyance and angst in him was to let him do what he wanted to do. Jimin was gentle and thorough as he dried your hair, his touch so soft as though you were made of porcelain, something he feared might shatter.

“See how good I take care of you, little one? How good we all treat you?” he murmured, his voice particularly low and soothing as he worked the towel through your damp locks.

You felt your heart ache at the sincerity in his words, even if they were colored by the potion’s influence. “Jimin…” you started, but the protest caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. He met your eyes through the mirror, his chin resting on your shoulder and rush of warmth and happiness passed through him. He fucking loved you, he thought to himself as an even fiercer conviction took root. You would see it soon.

“You are our queen, my love,” he continued with fierce intensity. “Don’t you see?”

But if this was love, then it felt like a prison to you. The sensation of his arms wrapped around you felt less like an embrace and more like shackles, binding you to a reality that terrified you. The walls felt as if they were closing in, the weight of his affection pressing down on your chest. You felt it even more when he placed his plump lips on your neck.

“And we will always sacrifice everything for our queen.”

As soon as the clock hit 7 in the evening, you tore yourself away from his embrace and ran down to the living room, already typing down on your phone to call for a meeting with the boys when you saw them already sitting there. They seemed to be in a deep conversation, their voices low and their faces serious. Sitting in the middle of them all was Kim Namjoon who had his eyes closed and his head resting against the backrest of the sofa. He looked similar to how he was when he trapped you in the elevator. He almost seemed to be sleeping had it not been the slight tremors in his hands that gave it away.

It was as though they were attuned to your presence when they all turned their heads to where you were, sans Namjoon, their conversation coming into a halt. It was eerie, you thought. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the synchronized movement, as if they were all part of some unsettling choreography.

“There she is,” Hoseok said brightly his face lighting up with a happiness that seemed almost out of place in the tense atmosphere. On his lap was your cat who was sporting a new collar. And was that gold?! “How was your day, little one?”

“We need to talk.”

“Uh-oh,” Taehyung plainly commented, his hand absentmindedly playing with Jungkook’s hair. His carefree gesture was a complete contrast to the seriousness in his face. “I already don’t like this.”

“Park Jimin, what did you do now?” Yoongi quipped, raising an eyebrow as he caught sight of the mentioned man entering the living room behind you. There was a teasing lilt in his voice, but the underlying concern was palpable.

Jimin smirked, holding your hand briefly when he passed you and sat down beside the quiet Namjoon. “Nothing. I just…dried her hair.”

Jin shook his head, shooting the maknae line a look of disappointment. He just knew that they did something today. Afterall, he thought that the younger men didn’t know the meaning of control and working in the shadows. He would talk to them later. They should have known how much of a flight risk you were. They were just banking on the kindness of your heart and how they used it to play with your conscience. It was that and Namjoon and Hoseok’s tactics that got you here, after all. They should all play smartly if they wanted this to last forever. And for now, making you happy was the way to that. He stood up and walked to you. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I heard from Hoseok that there is a cure. Is this about it, my love?”

“Let’s hear it then, noona,” Jungkook said with a smile on your face. It was a deceitful smile, you noted to yourself. How he could turn his playfulness and innocence on and off was terrifying, and the evidence of it was staring right at your face. You looked down and saw his bandaged hand from the breakdown from earlier.

Yoongi offered you an encouraging smile and you were only too thankful for his quiet support. You didn’t think twice to sit when he tapped down the empty space beside him. “A-as you all know, my friend’s grandmother knows of a cure in the mountains-”

Taehyung’s sharp scoffed interrupted you. “You’re tired of taking care of your mess when it’s only been a day?” His tone may be playful, but there was an edge to it.

You took a dee breath, “I know this is all difficult for all of us. But if she knows something, if there is even a small chance that there is really a cure, then shouldn’t we go for it? If this can help-”

“Help us?” Jimin interjected, his tone softer but laced with frustration. “Help us how? By running off to the mountains while we’re all here struggling with these feelings?”

“And how will we even know that you’ll come back to us?” Hoseok added, his anger bubbling to the surface. “What if you just leave?” he voiced the heavy question everyone in the room had been thinking about, not that they would let you, anyway.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you could feel the weight of their accusations pressing down on you. “It isn’t fair,” you retorted, your voice trembling slightly.

“Well, it was never fair to the seven of us,” Taehyung shot back, his tone sharp. “We were minding our own business when your negligence caused us this situation. You are to blame, and all you want is to escape from it.”

You could no longer take all the blamings, you realized. You were not the only one to blame in this, right? You were just as victim as they were! And the oldest should also share the blame! “But he knew!”

Seokjin blinked owlishly, attention now on him as you pointed your finger at him. “Knew what?”

“You knew that that pink tumbler wasn’t yours! You said so yourself that you knew it wasn’t yours because yours had coffee in it! You knew and you kept on drinking!”

“Ah, right” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he offered sheepish looks at the other CEOs who were all looking at him with seriousness and disbelief in their eyes. “What? It was delicious, right?!”

“Well, yeah it was,” Yoongi approved, his voice low. He looked like he was already long done with this conversation with the way he was leaning against the backrest and you knew with just one push he would already be lying down and dozing off. However, his attention was still on you as he played with the strands of your hair.

“So, if you are all blaming me, shouldn’t you put blame on him, too? He offered you the drink knowing that it wasn’t his! And he didn’t tell you all!”

Jungkook nodded, completely agreeing at whatever you were saying as long as you kept talking. Your voice was melody to his ears, like a siren, he thought. If he was a cartoon, you were sure that he’d already have heart coming out of his eyes from the way he was looking at you. He was giggling like a child, his chin resting on his palm, his body turned to you. “You’re right, noona. It’s Jin hyung’s fault. We should kick him out of the house or exchange him for ice cream…Speaking of! What’s your favorite flavor, my love?”

“Fine! Then sue me! Arrest me! But lock me with her forever!” Seokjin exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

“Seokjin, for the love of all that’s good-“

“I love it when you call me that,” he said with sincerity in his voice.

“I literally just called you your name!” you shot back in exasperation.

“Yes. That. I love it.”

“Oh my God, we’re getting off track!” You exclaimed in frustration. “The cure. It’s worth pursuing, don’t you all think? Isn’t that why I’m here in the first place? To alleviate the effects of the love potion?”

You knew you had them when they looked at each other in silence. “And what’s more alleviating than actually freeing us all from the effects of that potion?” you continued, your voice steady, determined. “If we have a chance to break this spell—if we can find a way to return to our normal lives—shouldn’t we take it?”

“You’re not going alone. We are coming with you,” Kim Namjoon broke his silence for the first time that night. You couldn’t help but notice the strain in his voice despite the firm way he delivered his demand, a telltale sign that he needed you now. It was already past seven, and he was the last one in the schedule. It was already way past his schedule, and he had been patient and enduring enough. He just knew that anytime now he would break. He opened his eyes, and his gaze locked onto yours, “Tomorrow. We go to the mountains.”

Before anyone could respond, he stood up swiftly, his long legs carrying him away from the eruption of chaos and disagreement that erupted from his statement. The others began to voice their objections, a flurry of protests filling the room.

Yet, he never stopped.

“You know you have to come to him, right, noona?” Jungkook said amidst the chaos. “Namjoon hyung is suffering…”

“He has been patient,” Hoseok added, admiring the strength and resolved that their lead CEO had. “But he needs you, too.”

The walk to his room was long despite the reasonable distance. It must have been because of the rapid beating of your heart as you walked to the unknown. The six of them all showed their dark side, the possessive, obsessive and jealous side that terrified you. You wondered what the last member would show you tonight.

But they were right.

Despite your fear and restlessness, you had to honor your responsibility with them.

Your knuckles had barely grazed his door when it opened from the inside, revealing the disheveled lead CEO.

Kim Namjoon was breathing hard despite the cool air inside his room. The usually composed lead CEO looked disheveled and visible exhausted. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, strands of his dark hair tousled as if his fingers had raked through them in frustration. He had already donned out his dark suit, his white and crisp shirt was unbuttoned. His muscular chest was glistening with sweat. Your eyes traced his form and found him barefooted.

This was as unmade as you ever witnessed him to be.

You were right, you realized. Kim Namjoon suffered the most today as he was the last one in the schedule. The way he was looking at you made it seemed like you were nothing to him but a prey, one that he had been desperately hunting the whole day. His silence only made you more tensed. "Namjoon," you began softly, concern evident in your voice as you stepped closer despite wanting to run away. "Are you alright?"

Instead of a reassuring answer, his demeanor shifted. His answer was pulling you inside his lair. His movements were quick. Desperate. Frantic. The sound of lock clicking loudly in the quiet of the room. This wasn't the controlled man you were accustomed to—this was someone else entirely, someone driven by raw instinct and need.

Every step he took towards you was a step you took backwards. He was sauntering to you like a predator would, his movements slow and deliberate like someone who knew had you trapped. His muscles were tensed like he was barely holding onto his control. His eyes, usually so warm, now bore into you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension radiating from him, his body coiled like a spring about to snap. You had an inkling that he wasn’t okay, but you never expected him to be this intense, this desperate.

"N-Namjoon, please," you stammered, your concern growing as his presence overwhelmed you, "You’re not okay. Let me get some help, okay?"

He scoffed softly, a sound that dripped with frustration and desire. The truth was plain to see—he wasn't just physically spent; there was something deeper unsettling him, something that demanded your presence, your touch, as if you were the anchor he desperately needed.

He knew if he didn’t have you in his arms in the next second, then he would truly lose it. He was desperate for you. And so, for the first time ever, he damned the consequences.

“Take off your clothes.”

“What?! No-“

“I need to feel your skin or I will fucking lose it, little one,” he gritted, his hands formed into fists in an attempt to ground him. He didn’t want to scare you, that was the last thing he wanted.

But he was scaring himself. The dizzying need for you was terrifying him. Dark thoughts were swirling in his mind: all of them were of losing you. He didn’t know what would happen if they lost you. He didn’t know what they would be capable of if you had someone else.

The only thing that could calm him down was you. But you were stubborn, weren’t you? He saw your eyes darted to the door behind him, assessing the probability that you could escape him. It wouldn’t happen, he was certain. Not in the state he was in.

“Don’t,” he whispered with a shake of his head. “Don’t test me tonight, little one. I am barely holding it in.”

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered in admittance, your eyes begging him to be sane, to at least reach the Namjoon inside him that knew this was a grey area.

He paused in front of you. he was breathing hard and his eyes seemed to be all dark. His voice was low as he explained his need for you and his promise that the two of you would only be sleeping.

Tonight, he claimed that you would be safe.

“I won’t ask again, little one,” he whispered as he looked down at you. “Remove your clothes and get on the bed.”

“And we’ll just sleep?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

He nodded. What he didn’t tell you was how he wasn’t sure if you could still be safe from the monsters you woke up inside them tomorrow. But that was tomorrow’s problem.

His eyes followed your every reluctant movement as you walked near to his bed. This was all so sudden, and the darkness of the room didn’t help you observe his personality that was reflected in his room. However, you were thankful for the darkness because it gave you the courage to do as he bade without the full weight of his gaze on you. Shadows danced across the walls and with a shaky breath, you finally sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets soft and inviting beneath you. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains, seemed to wrap around you like a comforting shroud. It was easier to let the shadows obscure your uncertainties.

You began to remove your shirt, your heart racing as you felt his eyes on you, the intensity palpable. The fabric slipped away, leaving you feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“The shorts, little one,” he ordered quietly, his eyes still on you as he shrugged of his white shirt. He raised his brows when a flicker of stubbornness crossed your face, a silent warning that he was at the very edge of a cliff. With shaky hands, you pushed off your shorts before quickly getting under his thick blanket, hiding your exposed skin from his eyes.

Your heard the buckle of his belt coming undone, and the sound of zipper following next was too loud in the silence of his room which made you shut your eyes closed. But the prolonged silence made you take a peek. And there he was. He was stalking to you, his muscular chest bared for your eyes, his thighs so thick and strong. The only thing he still had on was his black boxers that leave nothing to the imagination.

You shrieked when he got on the bed confidently and flipped the blanket to the side, baring your body to him, both his arms encasing you as he hovered above you.

“N-Namj–” your words left you when he settled his weight on you, every ridges and corners of his body was touching you. His nose was on your neck, breathing in your scent. His hands moved from the side of your head down to your wrist, and everything he touched left goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t fight this,” he whispered as he pulled your wrist above your head and kept them prisoned there.

“Y-you told me we’re just going to sleep,” you reminded him, your voice shaking slightly as you felt the heat radiating from Namjoon’s body. The tension in the air felt electric, and your heart raced.

“I told you. You are safe with me tonight.”

His hard member certainly did not make you feel safe. You could feel his hardness poking your stomach, and you were no saint to not know what it meant. You were certainly not that innocent to not be affected by this. You were embarrassed with how you could feel your arousal seeping to your underwear, and you hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

You jumped when you felt his tongue swiped at the expanse of your neck. You were trying to free yourself away from his hold when he nipped at your skin, sucking at it hard enough to know that it was going to leave a mark. All the while, his hips were slowly thrusting to you as though he was barely holding onto his thin control.

“Do you not feel safe, little one?” he taunted, his voice deeper than you ever heard of him. He lifted his head from your neck, his dark eyes glinting with something akin to an animalistic desire to have you. “Is the pleasure too much for you?” he asked in faux concern before thrusting his clothed cock directly to your heat. And by heavens, a moan escaped you. “Or is it not enough?”

“F-fuck, Namjoon- please!” you gasped as his hand pinched your nipple over your bra. His lips hovered over yours, so impossibly close that you knew one wrong movement was enough to make yours touched his. His cock was brutal as he humped you.

“Don’t you feel safe with the desires you are feeling?” he whispered directly to your ear, his hot breath leaving tingles down your spine. “Don’t you feel safe with just one cock? Do you want me to call the six of them? I bet they’d be happy to make you come. I know Yoongi does.”

“S-stop!”

He chuckled, his thrust stopping altogether. “Little one, you’re free. You can push me anytime you want. But you don’t want to, do you?”

It was only when he pointed it out that you realized he was no longer holding you down. In fact, he hadn’t for a while. You were too drunk with the sinful desire and his primal need to be with you that you didn’t notice that you had the choice to push him away.

And the horrifying realization that you deliberately didn’t want him to stop came crashing in.

“Don’t you just want to give in? I promise…no one will know. It’s just the two of us,” he whispered seductively, his breath warm against your skin. The way his words wrapped around you felt almost hypnotic, stirring something deep within. “Turn that mind off, darling. You’re so fucking wet,” he growled sensually. “I can feel your wetness in my thighs. You deserve this, little one. You deserve to be worship. All you need to do is to move.”

Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze, each word wrapping around you like a vice. There was a part of you that yearned to give in, to surrender to the pull between you.

And you did.

Your hips lifted slightly to meet his, and it was all he needed before he rutted on you, the control he had snapped like a twig when you took the first step. You could feel you were getting close, his movements were all unforgiving and sensual.

“See?” he growled, his voice low and intense, sending shivers down your spine. “I just want to take care of you, little love. We all just want to give you all you desire.” He stepped closer, the heat radiating off him like a tangible force, drawing you in. “I told you. You are safe with me. But you aren’t safe from your own desires.”

You could feel something hot, something with urgency. And it wasn’t long until you shuddered, you trashed with your back arched. And just like clockwork, Namjoon’s warm essence spurted out and onto his boxers.

“That’s it, little one. Good girl.”

And as he held your body in his arms that night, he lied awake with thoughts of how to keep you. You were so beautiful. And perfect for him. You were perfect for them. He was sure that all of his brothers were thinking of the same thing: how to keep you forever.

Day 4, morning

It didn’t come as a surprise when he woke up and found you gone, nor did it come as a surprise when you couldn’t meet his eyes when he came down early in the morning ready to leave for the mountains. Seokjin, ever the observant, noticed the tension between the two of you. Actually, it was more so from you as you tried your very best to stick with who you thought was the safest among the seven, Seokjin and Yoongi.

Seokjin, with his soft smile and easygoing charm, had managed to pull the wool over your eyes. How could you have known that Seokjin was a wolf in a sheep’s clothing while Yoongi was only patient until he wasn’t? How could you have known that they were truly far from who you thought they were?

The maknae line were already waiting by the door, talking animatedly among themselves as though all of you were just going to the mountains for a fun fieldtrip and not for the love potion cure.

It was Hoseok that broke the silence, “How was your sleep, little one?”

“G-good,” you stammered, your eyes lifting to meet the lead CEO’s gaze, only to find him already looking back at you with an intensity that made your heart race. You quickly looked down, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “L-let’s go? It’s quite a far drive.”

You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the knot of tension in your stomach. The closer you got to the mountains, the more real the journey felt, and the more daunting the implications of finding a cure. You turned to Namjoon, who stood nearby, arms crossed and expression unreadable. “Are we ready?”

It took him a moment to answer, as though weighing your question with care, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt too heavy for casual conversation. The air between you felt thick, charged with something unspoken, and the silence stretched on, longer than it should have. “Always ready,” he replied, though the weight of his gaze suggested he had more on his mind than just the drive ahead.

You sat quietly the whole journey. The feeling of freedom was so near, yet the implications of what happened the past three days weighed down on you. You knew things could never go back the way it was. You knew you had to leave your job and move someplace else. Despite the possibility of a cure, you knew that everything that transpired was far more complex that a simple remedy couldn’t fix.

You glanced around the van, taking in the familiar faces of the men who had turned your world upside down. This was probably one of the last times you’d be in their proximity, and that thought sent a shiver down your spine. You felt both relieved and terrified at the prospect.

It was as though Seokjin, the designated driver, could hear your thoughts. He glanced up into the rearview mirror and met your eyes, concern flickering in his expression. “You okay back there?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, an awareness of your internal struggle.

You offered a small smile, not quite reaching your eyes. “I’m good,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You looked down at the address your friend gave you. The mountains loomed in the distance; their imposing silhouettes framed by a clear blue sky. You could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze, a stark contrast to the tension that had built up during the drive.

Namjoon was off to the side, deep in conversation with an elderly man. You couldn’t help but catch snippets of their dialogue—words like “cure” and “love potion” floated through the air, drawing your attention. You watched as the man gestured toward a narrow, winding path leading deeper into the woods.

After a few moments, Namjoon turned back to you, a satisfied smile on his face. “We have to walk. The car cannot pass through,” he shared the information with the group.

You nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement. “How far is it?”

“Not too far, just a little hike,” he assured you, though his eyes held a glimmer of seriousness. “Are you ready?”

Taking a deep breath, you glanced at the rest of the group, who had gathered around. The maknae line looked eager, bouncing on their feet as if they were about to embark on a thrilling quest. Yoongi leaned against a tree, his expression contemplative, while Seokjin was busy checking the supplies they brought along.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “Let’s do this.”

It was almost an hour into the hike, and your little group was nearing the top when you saw it. “That must be it,” Hoseok said, pointing excitedly at the small house perched on the summit. It looked quaint, surrounded by trees and flowers, with smoke curling from the chimney, hinting at warmth and life within. For a moment, the sight was serene—peaceful even. But there was something about it that made your skin prickle, a sense of wrongness you couldn’t quite shake. The beauty of it felt... too perfect. Like an illusion meant to distract. A narrow pathway led to a flight of stairs, and just as you felt a rush of exhilaration, a pained gasp broke the tranquility.

You turned around to see Jungkook wincing, his hand clutching his ankle. “Jungkook!” you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He was sitting on the ground, his face contorted in pain, his doe eyes looking up at you as though he was asking for help. Beside him, Jimin crouched down, his innocent-looking face betraying none of the tension in the air. He looked concerned, but there was something about the calmness in his expression that made you pause—something about the way he was sitting too still, too perfectly for the situation at hand. How he hurt himself when the path was no longer steep like before, nor was the ground slippery was lost on you. You foolishly thought that you were out of the danger zone.

"Jungkook!" you repeated, kneeling beside him, your voice trembling with concern. "What happened?”

“I think I twisted it,” he admitted, his voice strained. “It hurts so bad, noona. P-please stay with me.”

You blinked at his request, your heart aching at the sight of him so vulnerable, but a wave of doubt swept over you. You had to make a decision, and fast. The cure was still ahead of you, and the house at the summit was growing nearer with every step you’d taken. But now, Jungkook was down, and his injury looked serious.

You glanced around, unsure what to do. You could stay with him, of course, but you weren’t the only one in the group, and there were others who might be able to help him. Maybe someone else should stay with him while you continued on to the house? Just as you were about to ask Taehyung, Namjoon stepped near you and interrupted your thoughts.

“Stay with Jungkook,” Namjoon urged you, glancing back at the house. “We can take care of the cure. Don’t worry.”

You hesitated, torn between the urgency of reaching the house and your concern for Jungkook. His face was twisted in pain, and you felt a pang of guilt for even considering leaving him. But the reassuring nod from Seokjin was enough to convince you that the men could handle the cure without you.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice steadying. “I’ll stay here with Jungkook.”

As you knelt beside him, your focus solely on his ankle, you completely missed the meaningful look shared between Taehyung and Yoongi, a silent conversation that hinted at something more.

“Just take a deep breath, Jungkook,” you said, gently placing a hand on his knee. “Let’s see if we can wrap this up.”

The six men trudged up the pathway leading to the small house in companiable silence when Seokjin suddenly stopped, halting the progress of the six men following him. They were almost near the house that his sudden pause caused confusion to the maknae line. It was a moment before he turned to face the group.

“Hyung?” Jimin asked, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Seokjin and Yoongi shared a meaningful look, their jaws set in stone and expression serious. “Taehyung and Jimin, I think you should stay guard here,” he said, his voice low and firm.

“Hyung, what if you need us there-”

Namjoon, who was quick to notice the peculiar seriousness in their eldest placed a reassuring hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and faced him. He flashed him a dimpled smile as though assuring him that everything was fine. “I think what hyung means is that this way, you can look out for little one and Jungkook.”

He tilted his head slightly, catching sight of you and Jungkook, a little ways down the path, peering curiously at the house.

“Don’t worry, we can handle this,” Hoseok assured the two age-mate with his charm. He gave a playful nudge to Taehyung as he stepped past them, confidence radiating from his every move. “Just keep an eye out, okay?”

With that, Hoseok entered the house, the door creaking softly behind him. The rest of the older members followed, leaving the maknae line standing in the fading light.

You didn’t have to wait long before the six of them descended the path, their expressions were mixed of triumph and satisfaction, and something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It wasn’t even that long when the six of them walked down to you. Yoongi led the way, a confident stride in his step, and in his hand was a small bottle filled with a shimmering pink liquid.

Your heart raced as you caught sight of it. “Is that—?”

“It’s the cure, little one,” he confirmed, holding it up to the light. The liquid sparkled, catching the sun in a way that made it almost mesmerizing, almost tantalizing, almost too hypnotic that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

You felt your heart leap in your chest. The weight of the world seemed to lift off your shoulders, and a wave of disbelief rushed through you. You could barely comprehend it, but there it was. “We’re free…” you said with disbelief in your tone. You were too happy that you jumped up and hugged Jungkook. “I cannot believe it!”

“Well, almost, little one,” Namjoon said, his expression shifting to something more serious. “We’ll take it at home where we can safely observe the effects. We can’t risk anything happening here.”

The words hit you like a splash of cold water. For a moment, the excitement faltered, and a small knot of worry tugged at your stomach. You had been so caught up in the euphoria of it all that you hadn’t stopped to consider the reality of it. There were still risks, still unknowns.

“Aren’t you just a little too excited about leaving us, little one?” His words were offhanded, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

Your eyes darted to him, surprised by the sudden comment. Jimin’s gaze was still fixed on his nails, as though the conversation were of no consequence to him. But there was a subtle tension around him, something in his posture that didn’t quite sit right.

Instead of dwelling too much in what he was enunciating, you decided to face Namjoon. “Right, of course,” you said, stepping back from Jungkook and if you noticed the reluctant way he let go of you, you didn’t mention. You rationalized that they were still under the influence of the potion. You just had to hold on a little bit more.

Seokjin clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “Then let’s get moving! The sooner we’re back, the sooner we can celebrate properly.”

The ride back to the civilization was filled with different vibes, it was quiet yet there was a profound peace within the group. This time, it was Jungkook who was driving while Taehyung was in the front seat with him. Seated next to you was Yoongi who was quietly contented in engulfing your hand in his, both your hands resting on his thighs. On your other side was Hoseok who was uncharacteristically quiet until he caught you looking at him.

“J-Jin, this is a lot,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you took in the lavish spread laid out on the table. Plates piled high with vibrant dishes, each one more mouthwatering than the last, sparkled under the soft glow of the lights. It was hard to believe he had managed to prepare all this while looking like he just stepped off a magazine cover.

“I want to celebrate us,” Jin replied, his smile warm and genuine.

You blinked owlishly, caught off guard. Us? What did he mean by that?

“You know, how we…survived this.” His eyes sparkled with sincerity, but confusion washed over you. You opened your mouth to ask him to elaborate, to clarify what “us” really meant, when suddenly, Taehyung appeared beside you. He leaned in so close that his lips almost brushed your ear, his voice teasingly conspiratorial.

“Hyung is so dramatic. He wants to do a big toast before drinking the cure.”

You missed the look the two men shared over your head when Jimin walked in and tugged you to sit next to him and Yoongi. “Come on, little one. I’m starving.”

One by one, the four other men took their seats around the beautifully set table. Directly across from you was Taehyung who was watching you intently, and beside him were Hoseok and Jungkook. On the other end of the table was Namjoon, manspreading like a king sitting in his throne. Seokjin moved gracefully around the table, setting down seven glasses that glinted like jewels, each filled with the pink liquid of the cure slushing around with every step. Your breath caught slightly as he approached, and when he stopped behind you, leaning down close, a shiver ran through you.

“And of course, for the lady. Only the best of wines,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You turned slightly, catching a glimpse of his serious and dark expression before he straightened, and just like that, he transformed it into a sweet smile that lit up the room. You wondered if it was just the light playing tricks on you.

“Hyung, ready for the toast?” Jungkook asked, his eyes on you even as he directed his question to Namjoon.

“I think it should be our little one that we ask,” Yoongi spoke for the first time that night, his tone unexpectedly serious. He turned to you, his eyes piercing through the moment, as if trying to read your thoughts. “Are you ready for what comes next?”

You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of excitement and anxiety churning inside you. “Are you ready… for the rest of your life, love?” Taehyung voiced, his expression uncharacteristically solemn as he toyed with his glass, tracing the rim with his fingertip.

You blinked owlishly, wondering why there were too many questions from them as though they were asking something else. But they weren’t, right? They weren’t implying anything more, were they?

You wanted your old life back.

You wanted your freedom back.

With a steadying breath, you raised your glass of wine, a quiet resolve settling over you. “To our freedom,” you declared, your voice clear despite the whirlwind of emotions.

Namjoon smirked, a fondness in his eyes as he confidently raised his glass in response. “To you, little one.”

“To us,” Seokjin added, his voice warm as he joined the toast, and one by one, the others followed suit.

You all drank to the last sip of your drinks, the sweet, fruity flavor of the wine lingering on your tongue. Seokjin’s gaze remained fixed on you, his watchful eyes never leaving your face as he set down his empty glass. There was an intensity in his stare, an unspoken question hanging in the air, as if he were waiting for something to unfold.

And he waited.

And waited.

Until it happened.

You felt the warmth of the wine spreading through your body, a comforting buzz that made everything feel lighter, more vibrant. But in the back of your mind, there was a nagging sensation, a whisper that something wasn’t quite right. The room began to tilt slightly, chatter of the CEOs was fading into a soft murmur. “S-something’s not right,” you whispered, turning to your ever dependable Yoongi, the one who never put you down.

Your hand was clutching his sleeves, yet he paid you no mind. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the liquid in you, and that nagging sensation began to twist in your gut. The wine—was it the wine? The warmth, the lightness, the almost too comfortable feeling that was settling into your bones—had it been too easy? Too perfect?

“W- what was in t-that w-wine?” You asked shakily, barely a whisper, your eyes finding Seokjin’s apathetic ones.

He waited.

“Seokjin…” you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper, as the fear settled in your chest like a stone.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable as his fingers lightly drummed against the table, almost too casual, too relaxed.

The realization hit you like a gut punch: This wasn’t a celebration. This was a trap.

Your vision blurred, and you struggled to focus, the faces of Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon becoming indistinct. Slowly, your world faded to black.

The seven men watched you as Yoongi wrapped his arm around you, securing your head to his shoulder as though he didn’t do anything.

“Why… why would you do that, hyung?” Jungkook asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief, eyes wide with shock as he processed the scene.

Yoongi remained focused on you, his other hand gently caressing your face, a gesture of comfort that felt surreal. It was Seokjin, however, who broke the silence, his voice calm and measured as he quietly sliced his food. “She was going to leave us.”

Taehyung’s shock morphed into something deeper, worry etching lines on his forehead as he glanced between the two of them. “We can’t just keep her here!”

“She belongs with us,” Seokjin replied softly, an edge of finality in his tone as he continued to slice his food, unbothered by the tension brewing around him.

“But there is a cure—” Jungkook started, his voice rising in protest.

“There is no cure, Jungkook,” Namjoon interjected smoothly, his form relaxed as he poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass like a tempest. “There’s no cure because we aren’t sick.”

“The hyungs are right, Kookie,” Jimin said, his expression softening as he held your hand close to his face, as if trying to draw strength from your presence. “We just love her so much.”

“And now, she’ll love us too just as much,” Hoseok smirked, his gaze darting to the wine you had drunk.

A phone beeping continuously rose Seokjin from his slumber. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked down to find you snuggled peacefully in his arms, your face nestled against his chest. On your other side, Jimin had draped his leg over you, a content smile gracing his lips in his sleep. It was only four in the morning, yet the incessant beeping of your phone pierced the quiet.

You must have been too exhausted to not notice, he noted. Of course, why wouldn’t you be when the seven men showed you just how much they loved you. And this time, you were only too enthusiastic to show them how much you adored them. With a sigh, he reached for your phone and opened your messages, curiosity piquing as he scrolled through the frantic texts.

You have to get out of there, Y/N. The effect of the love potion only lasts for 60 hours!

Y/N, honey, I’m fucking serious. The potion won’t even be effective if they have no feelings for you.

These men are insane. They know you before this, Y/N. You’re in danger there!

Where are you?

Seokjin scoffed, irritation bubbling up within him. He glanced down at your serene expression, blissfully unaware of the turmoil outside this moment. With a few quick taps, he deleted the messages, each one disappearing like smoke. You didn’t need to know.

It didn’t matter how you got here because you were here now.

And they would never, ever let you leave. As you nestled deeper into his side, he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, determination flaring within him. They would make you see that this was where you belonged, that you were one of them now. There would be no turning back.

More so now that they had access to that love potion. With just a few drops, they could weave the very fabric of your feelings, ensuring you remained anchored to them. They tasted heaven with you. What fool would let that go?

END

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plumiechim · 12 days ago

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Fuck the pain out [JJK] [m]

PAIRING: Jungkook x female reader

GENRE: Halloween party, smut, angst if you consider, pwp

WARNING: masked shit (ghostface), he is masked, unprotected sex, oc is js sad, he likes her, blowjob, lil fluff talk and blah blah

SUMMARY: Maybe ghostface will fuck your sadness away tonight.

W.C: 1.3k

A/N : Halloween and yet no man masked as ghostface to fuck me so why not write about it. Enjoy!

I was so broken by that point I didn't even give a fuck who the man kissing my neck was. He told me he'll make me feel good, treat me good tonight, maybe help me forget that I'm a fucking shattered piece of soul.

I can't even tell how he looks because his face is concealed by an intimidating mask. "I'm ghostface." was how he'd introduced himself to me while I was alone by myself smoking a joint at this halloween party my friends brought me to.

Having to see a person you've always loved deep down in your heart for years with another girl feels like shit even though I know I have no right to feel that way.

We're in the dark, now that his mask is off, I can't really see his face but I can feel the jewel on his lip momentarily graze my neck-

Wait.

I know who that jewel belongs to.

My eyes shoot open and my hands slide to his shoulders. I croaked, "Are you sure you wanna-." His lips shut me off before I speak any further.

A soft whimper leaves my mouth as his lips delve deeper into my mouth, "So broken, so needy." His lips graze against mine. "It's okay baby, I'll make you forget him tonight."

The way he assured me, gosh. I softly slipped my hands cupping the girth of his neck, I could feel him looking at me. I took my lips down his jaw as I slipped my palm to the back of his head and trailed kisses up to the corner of his lips.

"Kiss me." His whispers were all that I needed to press my lips against his. His hand roughly grabbed me by my neck as he hungrily devoured my lips.

His passionate kiss kept me busy as he slowly lowered us onto the mattress, him nestled between my legs as he trailed kisses from my lips to my chin, my jaw down to my cleavage.

"You need someone to worship you." His murmur tickles my skin and I suck in a sharp breath. "Understand you." A stinging sensation of his teeth slightly nipping on my skin, yet I love it. "Validate you." He continues his abuse on my skin. "Love you." Maybe its the joint that's heightening my senses and making me extremely sensitive to everything I was feeling. I wanted him. Bad. "You need commitment." He tugs onto my pants.

Oh my.

I push him off of me as he stands at the edge of the bed. Even though I can't really see I can sense him. I can sense him looking at me. A little surprised, confused at the same time. I can feel his chest raising and falling rhythmically with his loud erratic breaths.

I undid the buttons of his shirt one by one ascending, while his fingers tangled and played with my hair.

It was as if he was sculpted, body so perfect, muscles in right places. My tongue brushed over his abs leaving wet kisses as I went lower and tugged on the band of his Calvin Kleins.

As I pulled down his boxers, I could feel him tightening his grip on my locks. I get off the bed down on my knees as I spit on his cock and sensually lick the tip then proceed to slowly put him in my mouth.

His tatted arm fists my hair. His girth barely fitting into my mouth, but I still make an attempt to bob my head. His moans were so pretty, so hot, made me wanna go deeper and harder. The vibrations of his vocalization revert to the back of my throat.

I'm loving the fact that I'm making him feel good. I slowly get used to his girth and start working my mouth on him in all the ways I can. The way he's tugging on my hair kinda stings but that is something I can easily overlook.

"Fuck, you're so good." I can feel my own arousal spasming through my insides as i can feel him twitching in my mouth. "I'm not gonna last much." He moans as he pulls out of my mouth and grabs my hair, not by extreme but strong enough to yank me to the bed. He crawls, spreading my legs open and resting between my thighs.

I let out a small whimper as my back meets the surface of the mattress. He wastes' no time in ripping me off of my clothes and throwing them across the room. "I'm not going soft on you." He whispers as his thumb plays with my lower lip. I gently wrap my lips around his finger and flick it out. "I don't want that either." I breathe out.

"Baby, I wanna fuck you mad. Like an animal."

"You better do."

I physically jerk at the feeling of his fingers grazing my glistening cunt. I bite my lips as he slides his hand up my folds and slowly inserts his finger in me.

He goes slow at first but then shows no mercy, plunging his fingers in and out of me. His lips press against mine as he swallows my moans.

"I want you. Please." I breathe out and that's all he needed to pull his fingers out of me and reach out for the piece of latex.

I stop him. "I want you raw in me."

"If you do that then I can't fucking pull out-"

"I want you to not." I cut him off and I can see his silhouette, his neck cranking sideways putting on the mask he possessed, and I feel his girth in me and his tatted arm presses me down to the pillow by my neck.

"Baby you feel so good." He reaches down to kiss my thigh from under the mask as he starts with his thrusts.

Divine is what I would like to call this feeling. He felt so good I couldn't help but let out obscene noises. He felt divine. His moans, his breath, his thrusts, him inside me. It was all so hot.

My back arched as his thrusts got insanely deep and hard. His grip on my neck tightens and I feel our arousal dripping down my thighs.

"Mine." he grunts. "You're mine."

This was unusual for me. Cumming so fast like this. But I could already feel the tightening sensation and I can no longer assure that I am sane. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I take full pleasure of the feeling of him inside me, shaking vigorously underneath him syncing with his animalistic thrusts. As he leans down, I lift his mask a little to let him peck my neck. I can see veins popping on his neck, from the illumination from the window. His face and neck flushed pink.

"Baby you gonna cum?" I nod. He slows down. I whimper. "I need words, love." He smirks on my skin. "I'm gonna cum." I blurt out, my hips desperately trying to create some sort of stimulation.

But my pathetic attempt fails as he grabs my hips, restoring his thrusts. And I no longer am able to hold it in me. I unfold shaking under him, clenching hard. "Yeah baby, come all over my cock." He coos, his thrusts again going gentle.

But that was short lasted as he started chasing his own orgasm. Overstimulating but I loved the way he was desperately snapping his hips against mine. "Fuck if you clench on me like this- fuck." and with the hottest moan, he cums in me. His mask now off of him, hot sweaty body pressed against mine, his wet strands tickling my breasts. and his lips on my skin.

He takes a few minutes to regain his breath. "So you staying for the night or not." He says as he turns on the dim lamp from the nightstand.

His expression soon turns into a slight disappointment seeing the uncertainty in my face.

#bts smut #au #bts #fanfiction #jimin #jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #bts jimin #bts x oc #jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic

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amorieus · 2 years ago

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" 𝓘'𝓭 𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 "

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teenietinytangerine · 3 months ago

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~ sneakpeak of jimin's moodboard

#fanfic #ttus #bts fanfic #btvs fanfic #bts au #park jimin #jimin #park jimin au #jimin au

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namjoonscoffeeshop · 8 months ago

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Work in progress...

✧ Dear Namjoon (namjoon)

series; not completed | angst, smut, brothers best friend , namjoon fanfic -synopsis; You move in with your father and brother while your mother is away, one of you're brother's best friends becomes interested in you but you're relationship has to be kept a secret. index

✧ DEEP

Series; not completed | angst, smut, fake dating, contract, yoongi fanfic - synopsis; you're in love with your childhood friend but he does not see you more than just a friend. One day you ask him to be more than just friends, he agrees. index

✧ Snatch

Series; not completed | only available on AO3 | mafia au, smut, content warning, yoongi fanfic - synopsis; your father becomes an undercover cop and succeeds in locking up one of the most wanted criminal, only for him to escape prison and come after you in order to return your father the favor.

✧ Snatch (alternative version)

✧ Blue Heart

Series; discontinued | only available on AO3 | fluff, smut, establish relationship, jungkook fanfic - synopsis; after moving into your new neighborhood you encounter your neighbor who is the same age and grade as you. He discovers your secrets and falls in love with everything you hate about yourself.

✧ Kalopsia (not released yet)

series; wip | smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage - synopsis; index

✧ karmic Soulmates (Tumblr exclusive)

series; wip | smut, gang au, gun violance - synopsis; you run a cafe, live in a quiet city. you're life is normal just as everyone else, but not everyone seems to be who they seem. what do you do when your soulmate appears again and pulls you back into the world you had been running from for six years. Chapter 1

✧

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts masterlist #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook au #kim namjoon au #min yoongi au #bts au #kim seokjin au #jung hoseok au #park jimin au #kim taehyung au #bts drabbles #bts scenarios

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winterzsurprise · 2 months ago

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Change My Mind [4]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 7.1k

nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.

ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud

___________

In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.

But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.

While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.

But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!

“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”

It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.

You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”

Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.

You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.

“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”

He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his.

“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”

He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”

The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.

With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.

Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.

Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.

Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.

It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?

Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.

[17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6. [17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊

Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.

You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.

“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.

“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”

“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”

Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”

“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”

He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”

You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had.

Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.

“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”

“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye.

“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”

Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.

“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”

You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.

There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.

Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”

Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?

You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.

A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.

“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”

Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.

You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.

“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”

Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.

“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”

Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.

“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”

“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”

You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.

He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.

“It's like I never even knew you at all.”

He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”

Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?

It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.

For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.

“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”

Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.

Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.

“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”

Walking away was easier said than done.

You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.

They might be busy with their own family.

Unlike you.

As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated.

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.

As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head.

Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice?

An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.

So yes, it was the right decision!

But you were to be married .

Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.

Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.

Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.

[18:01] Jinnie: where are you? [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out. [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒 [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧 [18:03] You: was on a date [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.

You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed.

Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.

[18:04] You: wow I just remembered that [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!

There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.

[18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that… [18:10] You: considering… ya know [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨 [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌 [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’??? [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!

You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.

[18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000 [18:25] You: WOW [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY???? [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌 [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet

The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.

Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.

“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”

You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”

“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.”

He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.

He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”

He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”

His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver.

“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”

His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.

If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.

“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"

"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."

"I knew it."

He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.

“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”

He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.

“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”

A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.

“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”

“I don't think it's that easy.”

“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”

Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.

Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.

It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.

Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices.

You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup.

As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.”

You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.

From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.

It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.

He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”

“Thank you for everything, Jin.”

His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.

“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”

It was a joke, obviously.

But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.

Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.

He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you.

The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?

“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”

You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.

Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him.

When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace.

His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.

But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?

“God… You gotta stop doing that.”

“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”

There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.

Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group.

When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.

He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.

His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”

Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?

“You're such an idiot, you know that?”

“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”

He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.

“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!”

Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.

Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.

[18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird? [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird [18:57] You: but yes [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why [18:58] Mimi: 🤨 [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy

Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.

[18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but [18:58] Joonie: I told you so [18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰 [18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁 [18:59] You: blocked🚫

“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.

By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.

The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.

You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.

But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.

The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:

“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”

Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.

But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.

“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”

Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.

“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”

Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.

“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”

In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.

The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.

And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.

“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”

“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.

“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”

Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”

“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”

“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.

Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.

“Jungkook—”

“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?”

He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.

It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.

As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”

“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”

“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.

“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”

“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.

In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true.

This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.

“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”

Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.

That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.

But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down.

Obediently, Jungkook follows.

“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”

“But she’s not.”

“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”

They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?

Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.

It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.

Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.

In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.

His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.

“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.

Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.

When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.

Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.

In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.

The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said.

Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.

You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.

Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.

But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.

“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.

“He needs time to process, leave him be.”

Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.

“Jungkook, let us talk.”

“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”

The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.

“Jungkook please, I—”

You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.

Then you felt it.

Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine.

You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.

Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.

Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.

Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.

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