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melancholy-of-nadia · 10 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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hobicakess · 1 year ago

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Wonderful World — JJK One-Shot Series

SUMMARY: The world had gone to shit just like many had theorized. The living was not only fighting the dead, but they were also fighting against themselves and each other. Jeon Jungkook has been in the field by himself for months, living off of scraps, his own rules of survival, and barely enough water. Along the way, he finds a ditzy girl spoiled girl ironically Princess and her crusty white dog. He understood they'd be a handful, but he was Jeon Jungkook, and he could handle anything.

RATING: 18+ (im not the momma you are in control of what you consume.)

PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x Bimbo!reader

CONTENT WARNING: apocalypse!au, gore, blood, ditzy!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual established relationship, jungkook is sighing every three seconds, eventual smut, crusty white dog (yes that's a warning), minor character death, named reader, corrupt dystopian society, meanie jungkook, princess is just a girl, more to be added AUTHORS NOTE: i am back in my zombie apocolyse era!!!! this is heavily inspired by zombie land because i love it sososo much. the post for this story will be in shorts pushing 1k- 3k? words and my ask box is always open to request and thoughts for this series. If you are new to my blog welcome hottie! be sure to check out my other works, you"ll love it over here xxx

Jungkook had strict rules.

Four sips of water a day, only eat when his stomach is cramped to the point of when he couldn't walk, never sleep over an hour, don't let anyone in. He didn't need extra weight slowing him down from his destination. Was he being hard on himself? Maybe. Since losing his group in an unexpected ambush all those months ago he couldn't bring himself to be softer on his habits even if he had more than enough resources to keep him alive and breathing for the year. He was guilty, and angry. Angry at himself and angry at the world for what it had come too. Despite his personal angst Jungkook refused to die holding onto the hope he would finally reunite with his six soulmates.

Another unspoken rule of his was to never walk upon the main roads. Stay away from those maniacs dressed in military clothes and those who drove military trucks. So he stuck to the shadows, camouflage into the trees with stealthy movements. Quick and quiet, never stay in one place longer than two days. He's been in here for at least a day spending that time securing the area and everything around it before he could properly set up his base in the abandoned thrift store he found. Hopefully he could get as much rest as a person could during the end of the world. As he tracked back to his base swiftly moving through the tree-line with the new finds he managed to scavenge. He stopped when he heard a squeal that didn't sound like the parasites that took over the world. Peeking through the green he saw a woman. A frown taking over his handsome features as his eyes rake her clothing.

A tiny pink cropped tank top, tight denim shorts that had jeweled pockets, ripped black fishnets and wedged heels that threw him off more than the unethical outfit. On her back was a clear backpack and inside was a tiny sleeping dog who was unaware of the life or death circumstances their owner happened to be in. Surrounding her were geeks groaning and growling, taking swipes at her. Their only objective is to eat,eat, eat.

Jungkook didn’t deal with other people, for obvious reasons but he was still the selfless Jeon Jungkook who couldn’t turn his back on anyone, especially a woman clearly in need of his help. So he quickly jumped from the trees, holding onto his crow bar tightly and as he approached the woman and the group of zombies.

Until she screeched, "You broke my nail" pulling out a knife from her thigh garter taking down all four of the dead. Breathing heavily she blew a curl from her face as she turned, jumping at the sight of Jungkook's large frame looming over her with his crowbar up as if he was ready to attack her. She squeaks gathering herself into a tiny fighting position as she points her knife at him and he notices the handle was decorated with a dark skinned hello kitty print.

“You’re literally so sexy. I’d let you kill me as long as I’m in a chokehold.” Her big brown eyes trailed to his beefy tattooed and tanned arms causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Clearing his throat he put his weapon down turning on his thick soled heels back into the ditch disappearing into the greenery. She wasn’t in any danger anymore so he wasn’t needed.

“You know it’s not very nice to leave a lady unattended in the middle of a road especially during an apco-" he was quick to grab her, shoving her down against the tree trunk. He smacked against her mouth, as a group of military men began to drive along the side of the road closest to them. His eyes met her wide ones as she blinked her wispy lashes at him. His gaze trails over the freckles that danced over her button nose, and cheeks, slight blood splatter caked there along with her forehead. She giggles quickly as he removes his hand from her mouth revealing a bright and pearly smile.

"Kinky." his lip curls in annoyance as he turns his back on her again.

“You can’t just leave us! Me and Minnie are great company.” He stopped walking when he heard the name of her dog minnie. Who's been surprisingly quiet through the whole ordeal. Looking over his shoulder at her, he then shaking his head, he continued on taking longer steps.

“Okay I get it silent and boarding, dark and mysterious, tall, tanned, and handsome.She rambled on scurrying behind him.

“Whew you know what hulk- ACK!” a thud echoed through the trees making him turn seeing her fallen to her knees in mud. She sniffles as she tries to stand on her feet, failing miserably only getting her hands dirty in the process.

"They leave me all alone, take my stuff, then I break a freaking nail because of those nasty freaks, now I'm covered in mud following around an avenger who doesn't even. . ."

She's fully sobbing now, fat tears falling down her chubby cheeks as she gives up moving. "Just strike me downnnn"

Again his selfless heart was aching as he winced. He grumbles as he stomps towards her reaching his own hand out for her to take, after all this he couldn't find it in himself to just leave her not now. She sniffles as she looks up at him, then stares at his hand. With another pretty smile she takes it, letting him pull her upright, allowing her to rub her muddy hands on his black tank top with a defeated sigh.

“Thanks Thor.”

Huffing he began walking again this time slower so she wouldn't lose him. As he gets to the brick wall that seperates the forest from the store. She stares up at it and swallows hard. “How are we gonna get up there?”

Rolling his eyes Jungkook pulls his backpack off of his back, throwing it over the wall. He reaches towards her and she gasp, “You are not throwing my precious Minnie over that wall!” Stepping back from him a pout set on her lips. He shrugs and begins to climb up, leaving her there to watch as he disappears over the wall. Pouting and huffing, she removes her backpack from her back, strapping it in the front just in case she falls on her ass. “I'm way too pretty for this”

Scaling the wall she walked along it ignoring Hulks loud huffs and tapping of his boots. That's when she found a hole there big enough for her to fit through happily making her way through.

Jungkook might just leave her there on the other side of the wall. Hopefully she'll use whatever's there in her brain to find her way over the wall with her crusty white dog who he wished he could sleep like. He jumps at the tap on his shoulder turning to her standing behind him hands behind her back as she gave him a closed lip smile puffing the apples of her cheeks rocking back and forth on her wedges. “Guess what hulky.”

He raises a pierced eyebrow as she points in the direction she came from. “Found a hole in the wall!! You didn't even have to climb over silly.”

The happiness in her face fell as Jungkooks face hardened. Storming over to the said hold, cursing. He could have sworn he sweep the whole perimeter. How could this have gotten under his nose? He turns back to you standing pouty and confused. Since the first time meeting him Jungkook opens his mouth to speak.

“Good job princess” his voice deep and hoarse from not using it for months.

"OMG how'd you know my name" She smiles practically bouncing on her feet from the praise and his attention, twirling on a piece of her hair like a school girl with a crush. Shaking his head he turned back to fix the wall.

Inside of the thrift store, Jungkook listened quietly to her ramble about her love for thrifting and how she would rather thrift than online shop. Then he watched her get teary eyed again over not being able to online shop anymore. “It's just not fair!!! Like I was living the most barbie dream girl life, ya know?”

Accepting the tissue he handed to her staring at the sleeping dog in her lap. “Then bam the Internet shuts off, then boom my freaking neighbor tries to eat me.”

“Like I'm just a girl! I'm not fit for this at all.” Blowing her nose into the tissues finishing her tantrum while Jungkook debated on what to say. “I watched you knife four geeks by yourself, I think you're doing pretty good.”

“ Really?”

“Really?”

She giggles sniffing, as she held out her hand. “I’m Princess Marie sorry for the late introduction ‘s very rude.

Clasping his hand into hers, “Jeon Jungkook. Don't worry about it too much.”

His gaze drifted to her bloody broken nail.

“Let's clean this up, kay?”

Eagerly she nodded dark curls bouncing.

“Mmkay kookie”

Jungkook wouldn't admit it out loud but being in the presence of another human being that wasn't trying to kill him was nice. He knew that princess and her crusty dog would be a handful but he was willing to deal with it. Plus he missed being called by his favorite nickname.

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kittenan · 2 months ago

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No Subtitles in Bed

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader x Kim Namjoon Genre: Erotica, Polyamory, Language Kink, Possessive Love, Voyeurism, Slow-Burn Tension, Soft Dominance, Jealousy, Dirty Talk, Fluff Word Count: ~5k Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY, Minors DNI) Warnings: Explicit sexual content (threesome, oral sex, penetrative sex, double penetration setup, possessive behavior), language barrier, jealousy, light marking, voyeurism, dirty talk, alcohol mention, shower sex, unprotected sex, intense emotional dynamics. Please read responsibly! Summary: Stranded in Seoul due to a visa crisis, you, a freelance photographer, enter a marriage of convenience with Jeon Jungkook, a gorgeous but guarded music producer who barely speaks English. Your survival-level Korean and his broken English create a tantalizing language barrier, sparking tension in and out of bed. Enter Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s charming, fluent friend, whose translations ignite a wildfire of desire, turning him from observer to equal partner in a steamy, possessive triad. A/n: If you don't like the idea of multiple partners, poly au, polyamory relationships then DNI. I have already mentioned in warnings and Genre.

The Seoul summer was relentless, humidity clinging to your skin as you stood outside the government office, a marriage certificate trembling in your hands. Jeon Jungkook, your unexpected husband, stood beside you, his dark eyes flicking from the paper to your face. His jaw was tight, lips pressed thin, but his hand hovered near your waist, a silent claim.

You’d come to Seoul a year ago, chasing a freelance photography gig after a messy breakup back home. South Korea’s vibrant chaos had been a fresh start—until your work visa renewal hit a snag. A friend’s desperate pitch—“Jungkook’s solid, he’ll marry you to keep you here”—and your own reckless impulse led to this moment. You barely knew him. A few coffee shop meetups, his shy smiles, and broken English weren’t enough to prepare you for this. Marriage.

Jungkook was unfairly gorgeous—black hair falling into his eyes, a brow piercing catching the sunlight, tattoos peeking from his sleeve. “Good?” he asked, voice low, accented. His English was halting, your Korean worse—annyeonghaseyo, kamsahamnida, menu items.

“Yeah, good,” you whispered, heart pounding. You’d hesitated at the desk, pen hovering, imagining your ex’s smug face if you got deported. This was survival, not romance. Right?

Jungkook muttered—“aish”—frustration clear. He grabbed your hand, firm but gentle, pulling you toward his car. “Where?” you asked, stumbling after him.

“House,” he said, then something in Korean. You didn’t understand, but his intense gaze made your stomach flip. You nodded, choosing to trust him, asserting your own resolve to make this work.

Jungkook’s apartment was sleek—dark wood, minimalist, scented with his woody cologne. You stood in the living room, clutching your camera bag, as he handed you a bottle of soju. “Drink,” he said, clinking his bottle against yours. “Good for… nervous.”

You laughed, tension easing. “Yeah, I’m nervous.” You took a swig, the burn grounding you. Silence fell, heavy with unspoken questions. How do you live with someone you can’t fully talk to? Share a bed?

One afternoon, you tried communicating. You pointed at a kimchi jar, attempting, “Kimchi… jotayo?” (I like kimchi). Jungkook grinned, correcting gently, “Joahe.” His smile was disarming, but when you mispronounced “saranghae” (I love you) during a playful language lesson, his eyes darkened, and he stepped closer.

“Yeppeo,” he murmured—pretty—his gaze lingering on your sundress. You blushed, feeling the heat of his attention. “Thanks,” you said, then boldly touched his arm, testing the waters. His breath hitched, and he kissed you, hungry, hands sliding to your waist. You felt his arousal through his jeans, moaning softly.

He growled in Korean, hands under your dress. “Wait,” you panted, pulling back. “What did you say?”

Frustrated, he tried, “You… mine. Want to… fuck.” The bluntness burned, his accent making it filthier. You wanted him, but the language gap was maddening. “We need help,” you said, asserting control. “Someone to translate.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing his phone.

“Namjoon,” he said. “He... help.”

Kim Namjoon arrived the next morning, all dimples and broad shoulders, a leather notebook in hand. His English was flawless, his voice deep, and when he shook your hand, his thumb lingered. “Jungkook says communication’s tough,” he said, settling on the couch. Jungkook sat beside you, thigh pressed to yours, hand possessive on your knee.

“It’s everything,” you admitted, cheeks warm. “Talking, living together… intimacy.” You glanced at Jungkook, who watched you intently. “I want to understand him. Especially in bed.”

Namjoon’s eyes twinkled. “In bed too?” Jungkook muttered, grip tightening. Namjoon chuckled. “He’s frustrated because he can’t tell you how much he wants you. He’s passionate but stuck.”

“Tell him I want him too,” you said softly, leaning into Jungkook. “But I need to know what he’s feeling.”

Namjoon translated, and Jungkook smirked, whispering in your ear. Namjoon said, “He says your body will understand his, even without words.” Your thighs clenched.

That evening, Namjoon stayed for dinner, translating Jungkook’s stories about his music producer job. You shared your photography passion, showing them a photo of Seoul’s neon streets. Namjoon’s praise—“You capture the city’s pulse”—felt intimate, and Jungkook’s hand tightened on your thigh.

Later, Jungkook pulled you onto his lap, kissing your neck. Namjoon watched, his gaze heavy. “Tell me,” you gasped as Jungkook’s hands roamed.

“He loves how you taste,” Namjoon said, voice husky. “Wants to mark you as his.” Jungkook’s teeth grazed your collarbone. You moaned, noticing Namjoon’s arousal through his jeans. His desire amplified yours, and Jungkook’s smirk suggested he noticed too.

The first bedroom translation was chaotic and searing, with you taking the lead to set the pace.

You straddled Jungkook on the bed, his shirt off, muscles flexing as you kissed down his chest. His Korean murmurs drove you wild, but you needed clarity. You guided his hands to your breasts, showing him what you wanted, your confidence growing. “Namjoon,” you panted, “what’s he saying?”

Namjoon sat by the bed, gripping the armrest, hand on his thigh. “He wants to worship you,” he said, voice strained. “Says your skin’s so soft, he’s losing his mind.”

Jungkook tugged your panties down, growling. Namjoon translated, “Your pussy’s so pretty, he could stare forever.” You whimpered as Jungkook’s fingers teased your clit, slow and deliberate. Namjoon’s breathing hitched, his hand slipping inside his pants, stroking himself.

“Tell him to taste me,” you said, bold. Namjoon translated, and Jungkook’s eyes flashed, his tongue flicking your clit. You moaned, guiding his head, reveling in control. Namjoon’s voice was rough: “He wants to ruin you, feel you come on his tongue.”

You came, vision blurring, Jungkook’s fingers curling inside you. Namjoon groaned, stroking faster, his sounds mingling with yours. Jungkook kissed you, lips slick. “Mine,” he said, then in Korean. Namjoon translated, “You’re his. Only his.”

But Namjoon’s hungry and disagreed gaze lingered, hinting at more.

Weeks blurred with sex and translation. Namjoon was there nightly, his presence electric. Jungkook fucked you possessively, leaving faint marks, while Namjoon’s voice wove through, translating every filthy word. Namjoon often touched himself watching, his arousal heightening yours, and Jungkook’s harder thrusts showed he also enjoyed the dynamic.

One afternoon, alone with Namjoon practicing Korean, tension shifted. Jungkook was at the studio. “Say ‘bogoshipo’,” Namjoon said. “I miss you.”

You said it, and his eyes softened. “Good. Soon you won’t need me.” His voice was wistful.

“I’ll always need you,” you teased, but his gaze sharpened, brushing hair behind your ear. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, thumb grazing your cheek. You froze, body responding.

The door opened. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, seeing Namjoon’s hand. He snapped in Korean. Namjoon replied calmly, but Jungkook pulled you to him. “Mine,” he said, kissing you hard. Namjoon translated, “You belong to him. I need to stop touching.”

“It’s not what you think,” you said, touching Jungkook’s chest. “I want you both… but we need to talk.” Your insistence on clarity showed your growing agency.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. Namjoon’s eyes were unreadable. Jungkook spoke, and Namjoon translated, “He wants me to translate tonight. And… touch you. But he’s scared.”

You reached for Jungkook’s hand. “I’m yours. Both of yours, if you want that.”

That night redefined boundaries, a wildfire of trust and desire.

Jungkook had you on your hands and knees, his cock buried deep in your pussy, each thrust deliberate, stretching you deliciously. His hands gripped your hips, leaving faint marks. He spoke in Korean, voice raw. You sobbed, overwhelmed, sheets fisted.

“Namjoon,” you gasped, “what’s he saying?”

Namjoon knelt in front, shirt unbuttoned, stroking his thick cock. “He wants to fuck you until you’re his forever,” he said, voice hoarse. “He’s jealous of how much you need me.”

Jungkook slowed, pulling you against his chest, hands cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples. “Touch her,” he said in English, accent heavy. You nodded, desperate. Namjoon’s fingers found your clit, rubbing slow circles, the dual sensation dizzying.

Jungkook’s thrusts deepened, Namjoon’s fingers matched his rhythm. Jungkook growled, and Namjoon translated, “He wants to ruin you while I make you scream.”

You were close, trembling. Namjoon’s hand grazed your throat, thumb on your pulse. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, unprompted. “I’m falling for you.”

The confession pushed you over. You came, walls pulsing around Jungkook, screaming. Jungkook groaned, guiding you to the bed’s edge. “Take her,” he said to Namjoon, a challenge. “She’s ours.”

Namjoon hesitated, then kissed you softly, grabbing lube. Jungkook spread your thighs, still inside you. Namjoon’s fingers prepared you, sliding into your rim, stretching gently. “Relax,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

Jungkook thrust slowly, Namjoon entered your ass, the fullness intense but thrilling. They moved in tandem, Jungkook’s deep thrusts alternating with Namjoon’s careful ones. You sobbed, caught between them, every nerve alight. Namjoon’s hand returned to your clit, and Jungkook growled, “Ours.”

You came again, convulsing, their names echoing. Jungkook spilled inside you, then Namjoon, their releases hot. They held you, Jungkook’s arms tight, Namjoon’s hand in your hair.

“Saranghae,” Jungkook murmured. Namjoon translated, “We love you, in every language.”

Morning light filtered through the curtains. Jungkook kissed your forehead, Namjoon’s voice soft. “He’s sorry if he scared you,” Namjoon murmured. “But not sorry for sharing you.”

You laughed, content. “What now?”

They exchanged glances. Namjoon spoke, “We want you with us. Both of us.”

That evening, over soju and samgyeopsal, you discussed the triad. “I love you both,” you admitted, heart racing. “But I’m scared. What if I hurt one of you?”

Jungkook squeezed your hand. Namjoon translated, “He says we’ll fight, but we’ll fix it. You’re worth it.”

Namjoon added, “I was loyal to Jungkook, but I love you too. We’ll make it work.” His vulnerability—admitting his fear of overstepping—deepened your trust.

A month later, you signed a second marriage license, a private ceremony for three. Namjoon’s hand shook, but his smile was radiant. You exchanged simple bands, a silent vow.

Life with Jungkook and Namjoon was a vibrant dance of heat and tenderness, each moment weaving you closer. Your Korean had improved enough to catch Jungkook’s playful “Yeppeo” when you wore his oversized shirt, or Namjoon’s flirty “Bogoshipo” when you returned from a photography gig. The language barrier was no longer a wall but a bridge, crossed with laughter and lingering touches.

One humid evening, Seoul’s skyline glittering from a rooftop date, the air crackled with desire. Jungkook’s possessiveness flared when a stranger’s gaze lingered on you at the bar. He pulled you against the rooftop railing, his hands firm on your hips, lips grazing your ear. “Nae yeoja,” he growled—my girl—his cock hard through his jeans as he pressed into you. Namjoon stood close, his broad frame shielding you from view, his fingers brushing your arm, eyes dark with intent.

“Mine,” Jungkook said in English, then glanced at Namjoon, smirking. “Ours.” Namjoon’s lips curved, and he leaned in, whispering, “Let’s show her.”

Back at the apartment, the tension erupted in the cramped shower, steam fogging the glass walls, hot water cascading over your skin. Jungkook grabbed you up, your legs wrapping around his torso, his back pinned against the cool tiles, his inked chest glistening, droplets clinging to his tattoos. His fingers teased your folds, slow and deliberate, grazing your clit until you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps, leaving faint crescent marks. Then Namjoon stood behind, his taller frame pressed close, lips brushing your shoulder, his cock hard against your lower back.

“Fuck, Namjoon... Jungkook,” you gasped, head tipping back. Jungkook’s smirk was wicked, his fingers circling your clit. He murmured in Korean, voice low and guttural, vibrating against your throat as he kissed the sensitive skin there.

Namjoon’s hands joined Jungkook’s, one sliding to your breast, thumb flicking your nipple, the other gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “He says you’re so wet, he can feel you dripping for both of us,” Namjoon translated, voice rough with arousal. “That he wants to take you apart.”

You moaned, hips bucking, desperate for more. “I want you both,” you panted, bold, reaching back to graze Namjoon’s cock, then forward to stroke Jungkook’s through the water’s slickness. Their groans mingled, Jungkook’s possessive, Namjoon’s hungry.

Jungkook’s eyes flashed, and he nodded at Namjoon, a silent agreement. “Tell him I want to please you both,” you said, voice steady despite the heat. Namjoon translated, and Jungkook’s gaze darkened, his fingers slowing to let Namjoon take the lead.

Namjoon turned you gently, your back now against Jungkook’s chest, his hands steady on your hips. Namjoon’s lips claimed yours, his kiss deep and slow, tongue teasing yours as he lined himself up, his cock nudging your entrance. “Breathe,” he murmured, pushing in slowly, stretching you with a delicious burn. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, Jungkook’s lips on your neck, sucking a faint mark.

“So tight,” Namjoon groaned, his thrusts careful but deep, filling you completely. Jungkook’s hands roamed, one pinching your nipple, the other sliding to your clit, rubbing tight circles in time with Namjoon’s rhythm. The dual sensation—Namjoon’s cock, Jungkook’s fingers—sent sparks through you, your moans echoing off the tiles.

“Switch,” Jungkook growled, his voice raw. Namjoon slowed, kissing you softly before pulling out, leaving you aching. Jungkook spun you to face him, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist, the water making your skin slick. He thrust into your pussy, hard and deep, his cock hitting that perfect spot. You cried out, nails scratching his back, Namjoon’s hands now on your ass, spreading you wider for Jungkook.

“Yeppeo,” Jungkook murmured something in korean, eyes locked on yours. Namjoon translated, his breath hot against your ear, “He says you’re so pretty, taking us like this.”

You wanted more, wanted them both. “Let me please you,” you said, bold, sinking to your knees despite the cramped space, water splashing around you. You took Jungkook’s cock in your mouth first, savoring his low groan, your tongue swirling around the tip. Namjoon’s hand tangled in your hair, guiding you gently as you switched, taking Namjoon’s thicker length, your lips stretching around him. His moan was deep, hips twitching as you sucked, Jungkook stroking himself beside you, eyes burning.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Namjoon panted, voice strained. Jungkook growled in Korean, and Namjoon translated, “He says he loves watching you take us both.” He continued. "And me too."

You alternated, pleasing them one by one, your hands stroking whoever wasn’t in your mouth, the water amplifying every sound—your moans, their groans, the wet slide of skin. Jungkook’s thighs tensed, his hand tightening in your hair as he came, his release hot on your tongue. You swallowed, then focused on Namjoon, sucking harder until he spilled, his cum mixing with the water, his fingers digging into your shoulder.

They pulled you up, laughter soft as they steadied you, the shower’s heat making you dizzy. Jungkook kissed you, tasting himself, while Namjoon’s lips found your temple, his touch gentle. “Saranghae,” Jungkook murmured, and Namjoon echoed, “We love you.”

They cleaned you up, Jungkook’s hands gentle with the soap, gliding over your skin with reverent care, his fingers tracing the marks he’d left, a soft smile breaking through his usual intensity. Namjoon’s teasing came as he rinsed your hair, his long fingers massaging your scalp, murmuring, “You’re glowing, you know,” his voice warm with affection. They took turns drying you, Jungkook wrapping you in a fluffy towel, patting your skin with deliberate tenderness, while Namjoon knelt to dry your legs, stealing playful kisses on your knees that made you giggle. Wrapped in towels, they guided you to bed, Jungkook tucking you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek, Namjoon sliding in behind, his arm draping over your waist, fingers interlacing with Jungkook’s. Their warmth chased away the night’s chill, their soft whispers of “saranghae” lulling you, already dreaming of the next time.

Winter blanketed Seoul, the apartment warm with coffee and cinnamon. You woke tangled in sheets, Jungkook’s arm heavy across your waist, Namjoon’s breath on your neck. The bed was chaos—pillows scattered, a sock on the headboard—but it was home.

Jungkook stirred, nuzzling you. “Joheun achim,” he mumbled—good morning. You smiled, understanding. Namjoon chuckled, adding something that Jungkook didn't even say. “He says you’re too pretty for 7 a.m.,” he teased.

“Liar,” you laughed, swatting Namjoon. He kissed your knuckles, eyes soft. Jungkook pulled you closer, grumbling, “Nae yeoja”—my girl—then tugged Namjoon into the pile. “Uri yeoja”—our girl.

You giggled, squished between them. “Ridiculous,” you said, heart swelling. Namjoon traced your hip. “But Yours,” he said, flirty. Jungkook nipped your earlobe, possessive. “And you are Ours.”

You made pancakes, Jungkook stealing batter, Namjoon sighing while reading book. When Jungkook pouted, you fed him a piece, syrup on his lips. “Naneun neoreul saranghae” you said, the word easy now.

They echoed it, and you knew this—messy, heated, tender—was forever. A year later, you planned a trip to Jeju, a photo series capturing their love. Seoul’s streets still judged, but in your shared bed, no translation was needed.

A/n: This wild idea sparked when I stumbled upon a post and I couldn’t shake the plot from my mind. Not sure if it landed perfectly, but I had a blast writing this shit! 😈🤪

Imp. Update: Please check out this post and support.

Do Follow my backup account : @kittenan2

Taglist: @the-djarin-clan . @jeonjamiekim . @moonjinniecafe . @minpdrecs . @bontensbabygirl . @this-most-assuredly-counts . @taolucha . @mytaegiheart . @dear-mono . @lilyficrec . @janeluvwonuuuu . @k-fan-fics . @iztrouble . @pikajooni . @namluvili . @alonahh . @paradise172 . @stay-tiny-things . @micdropitlikeitshot . @softhaes . @littlebluhellfire . @niqueesthings . @nocturnalsingularity . @syudoeslove . @namjoonbaby17-blog

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jk smut #jk x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #rm smut #bts poly au #poly bts x reader #3somme #polyamory #kim namjoon #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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bluemari23 · 9 months ago

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remember our touch || bangtan

summary: you try to push away your bad memories and your soulmates help you replace them with good ones.

pairing: idol!bts x reader

genre: soulmates, soulmarks, soulbands, angst, fluff

warnings: past depressed reader, bad memories, bad family, insecurities, anxious reader,

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

---------------------------

You remember feeling so lonely, watching all of the couples in your family get together, dancing under the moonlight as another love song comes on through the speakers. Every wedding you could remember, after you were old enough, you always wondered if you would every find your soulmate, the person you were destined to be with.

Your soulmark showed up when you were twelve; you even remember the exact moment. You were in your advanced world history course, learning about the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the specific impact it had on North Africa when you felt the immense burning on your left forearm, directly under your palm over your main artery.

You remember crying out in pain, a sob breaking past your lips as you fall back into your chair, toppling back and hitting your head on the ground. You remember your classmates trying to help you, but your teacher’s words held everyone back.

“It’s the soul burn initiating.” You remember freezing, despite the burning pain, and moving your hand away from your forearm, only for a line of foreign letters to stare back at you, blacker than the night sky without stars shining down.

The intensity with which you stared at your soulmark was nothing compared to the loneliness you began to feel as more than one line of letters began to appear, the burning intensifying until you promptly fainted from the pain.

Then you woke up in the hospital, hooked up to fluids and receiving a visit from a Soul Specialist who specialized in multiple soul bonds. She was there to comfort you, to give you pamphlets and tell you how they identified your soulmarks to be Korean, that you were likely the youngest, given the intensity of the soul burn you felt when your marks came in.

You were a rarity, having multiple bonds. Three bonds were an uncommon occurrence, but having seven was a one-in-a-million statistic. Your mom was handed a card with her number on it, in case you felt anymore burning in your marks, or if one of them disappeared, which you wouldn’t know the significance of until you were nearly 16.

You remember the looks of disbelief changing to looks of disgust as you grew older. The way some family members would tell you that you didn’t deserve that many people to love you. That you weren’t important enough for it. And you remember the way your mother would defend you despite everything.

And you remember how she was the one to push you to find your soulbonds when you turned eighteen, fresh out of high school from your small little mountain town. It would take you another almost six years before you were able to meet them, the burning in your arm leading you to them; the black, slowly turning, silver soulmarks the closer you were to them in proximity.

You remember your first glance at two of them, in a shopping mall of all places. You didn’t get a glance at their faces, only at the way they also clutched their forearms, panic and alarm shown through their eyes as they looked down at you clutching your own in pain.

It would take another day for you to meet the rest of your soulmates and activate your bond. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you stared up at the faces of BTS, your soulmates, in the middle of their living room after you were taken home from the hospital after fainting at the touch of your first soulmate.

That was over two years ago and nothing could have made you happier than the way they looked at you; so much love and adoration in their eyes. You never would have thought you would meet them, but now you wish you looked for them sooner.

-*-*-

You couldn’t help but to stare down at the invitation again, lost in your memories of the last family wedding you went to with your mother before she passed away. You sat towards the corner of the room, against the wall as you watched the DJ play another love song and asked for all the “lovely soulbonds” in the room to get up and dance.

You were in the middle of the deepest depression you had ever experienced and couldn’t fight the amount of loneliness and despair you felt after coming back from yet another discussion of why your soulmates wouldn’t want you by one of your random great aunts. Your grandma had come and sat with you, held your hands and made you cry all in one sentence.

“Your soul was split into eight because the fates new how much love you had to give.”

That was the first time your view on your soulmates had changed, that you felt worthy of the names imprinted on your skin.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Jimin’s asked as you felt his arms wrap around your middle, leaning his chin on your shoulder after giving a soft kiss to your neck.

“Just thinking about the last time I went to a wedding.” You whispered, still caught in your memories. Your soulmates new all about your history of depression and didn’t treat you any differently because of it.

In the words of Taehyung, “That just means we are meant to be there for you and give you all the love you deserve.”

And they did, every second of every day.

“Well, this time, you need to make time for seven soul dances, don’t you?” You could practically feel the grin on his lips as he kisses your naked shoulder, his hand messing with the top of your towel.

“Jimin, we don’t have time to mess around right now. Our lovely little soulmate needs to finish getting ready, as do the rest of us. We only have about an hour before we need to leave.” Namjoon makes his way in from the bathroom, catching you and Jimin by the dresser.

“Yes, Sir.” You and Jimin’s voices mesh together, mischievous looks aimed at your older soulmate knowing what the title does to him. The look in his eyes only lets you know just what punishment you were going to receive when you got back to the hotel later.

Once everyone was ready, you made your way downstairs to the reception hall, decorated in light blue and white almost resembling what Cinderella’s wedding would resemble. You held Jin’s hand as you walked up to the small table by the entryway, folded pieces of paper organized on the table with names and table numbers.

Your table was just you and your boys, the eight of you found yourself in the almost front and center, feet away from the long table where the bride, your cousin, and her soulmate would be sitting with their wedding parties.

You knew why. Despite your family’s belief before you found your soulmates, once they found out you were bonded to seven extremely famous and rich men, their views changed. Now you were the favorite cousin, favorite niece. The one they always called when something went wrong and they needed money.

“We could always just kidnap your grandma and go have dinner somewhere nice.” Jungkook leaned over and whispered in your ear, holding your hand so that you didn’t continue to pick at your nail beds. You didn’t even realize they were bleeding until he held them, using one of the napkins from the table to gently wipe the blood away.

The boys, despite only meeting your grandma a couple of times, fell in love with her the moment they met. She had slapped Jimin with her purse when he didn’t pull your chair out for you. Apparently, all the boys needed was to see Jimin get hit before they loved someone.

“Yeah, baby. Just say the words. Or even hit Jimin with your purse.” That earned Yoongi his own slap from the offended man.

As nice as that sounded, dinner with the loves of your life and your beloved grandma, you knew you needed to be here. Even if you may not have wanted to come in the first place. You needed at least one good memory from a wedding that wasn’t your own. You needed to fight your own anxiety and bad memories.

You needed to create new ones.

Jungkook and Hobi both held your hand as the ceremony proceeded, squeezing every so often when your own grip tightened with anxiety. Weddings were a source of anxiety for you as it was the one place where all your depressive thoughts stemmed from. Just having them here, holding your hands and whispering sweet things into your ear was already a huge help to you.

The real anxiety inducing moment was when the ceremony ended and the reception started, giving your family the perfect moment to rain down comment upon comment about your soulbonds.

“You know, we used to think her marks were drawn on.”

“I told her before that she would never meet her soulmates and now look at her!”

“We always used to joke that her soulbond was a prank by the fates. I mean, seven soulmates. That never happens.”

“It’s a good thing her marks were real, or she’d be alone after her mom died.”

That last comment was the last straw for you and your soulmates. Your older cousin, even if only by a couple of months, was always the one who started the jokes about your soulmarks. Even once dousing your arm in alcohol to “reveal the skin underneath”.

You could vaguely hear the DJ announcing a soul dance and then the soft beat of another love song when Yoongi’s cold voice broke through his scarily calm demeanor.

“Don’t ever speak about her mother again. Our soulmate has been through enough without you bringing in her mom as an offhanded comment.” Despite English being his second language, he was surprisingly good at coming up with amazing comebacks and defensive statements.

“Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to go and dance with our lovely soulmate and shower her with the love and affection her family should have shown her.” Jungkook finished Yoongi’s words, his piercings and tattoo’s coming off incredibly intimidating to your religious cousin.

Taehyung led you onto the dancefloor first, right on the edge where your soulmates could stand next to you both. He cupped your cheeks, holding you close as he wiped away your slow-falling tears.

“None of that. I want your next memory of a wedding to be a beautiful one, filled with the love of your soulmates. I want you to remember our touch, how we held you close and sang into your ear.” Taehyung was passionate in his beliefs, and it was hard to shake his mind when he believed in something, no matter how powerful that belief was. It was one of the reasons you loved him.

You spent the rest of the reception being held and twirled on the edge of the dancefloor, experiencing the love you always dreamed of and wished for in the past. The touch of your soulmates keeping you grounded and reminding you what love was supposed to feel like.

#bts #bts x reader #bts headcanons #bts au #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #soulmates #soulmarks #soulmate au #soul bonds #bts poly au #bts polyamory #bts poly x reader #bts idol au #angst #fluff #bluemari23

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kittenan2 · 2 months ago

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House Rules

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader x Kim Seokjin Genre: Poly!AU, Roommates to Lovers, Forbidden Tension, Mutual Obsession, Smut, Fluff, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Brat Taming, Mirror Play, Handcuffs, Praise/Degradation, Overstimulation, Aftercare Warnings: Explicit sexual content, 18+ only, consensual poly dynamics, light BDSM elements, alcohol consumption. Word Count: ~4k Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY, Minors DNI) A/n: If you don't like the idea of multiple partners, poly au, polyamory relationships then DNI. I have already mentioned in warnings and Genre.

The apartment smelled of cedarwood and fresh laundry, a faint trace of Jin’s cologne lingering as you hauled your final cardboard box through the door. Your new home was a study in contrasts: Jin’s meticulously organized spice rack gleamed in the open kitchen, while a stack of takeout containers teetered on the counter. The living room held a sleek leather couch, but a paint-splattered easel stood defiantly in the corner, as if daring the space to stay pristine.

Jin leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed, looking like he’d stepped out of a menswear ad in a soft gray hoodie and sweatpants that hugged his frame in ways you were trying not to notice. His dark hair was tousled, but his eyes were sharp, tracking you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, like he was offering you a secret instead of help.

“I’m good,” you said, shoving the box into your room with a grunt. You weren’t about to let Jin fluster you on day one. He was your coworker—brilliant, composed, and unfairly charming, with a knack for turning boardroom presentations into something almost indecent with just a smirk. Moving in was practical: cheap rent, a prime location near work, and a roommate who wouldn’t leave dishes festering. You’d just ended a messy relationship six months ago, and the last thing you needed was complications. This was about stability, not daydreams about Jin’s jawline.

The front door slammed open, shattering your resolve.

“Jin-hyung, you got beer?” a voice called, followed by heavy boots thudding against the hardwood. You peeked out to see a guy—taller, broader, with wild dark curls and a lip piercing that caught the hallway light. He wore a ripped black tee and paint-splattered jeans, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder like he’d wandered off a street art mural.

Jin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“Crashing,” Jungkook said, tossing his bag onto the couch, where it promptly spilled a tangle of hoodies. His eyes landed on you, and a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “New roommate?”

You raised a brow, refusing to let his stare unsettle you. “Y/N. And you are?”

“Jungkook. Jin’s cousin.” He sauntered over, offering a hand. His grip was firm, calloused, his thumb brushing your knuckles a beat too long. “Art school dropout, professional troublemaker. You?”

“Y/N. Professional not dealing with trouble,” you said, pulling your hand back. His laugh was low, a little dangerous, and you caught Jin’s gaze—heavy, unreadable, flickering between you and Jungkook.

“Jungkook’s staying a few weeks,” Jin said, his tone clipped. “He’s… between places. Again.”

“A few weeks?” you said, eyeing the duffel bag’s chaos. “Looks like he’s settling in.”

Jungkook winked, flopping onto the couch. “Only if you beg me to stay, sweetheart.”

“Keep dreaming,” you shot back, but Jin’s jaw ticked, a subtle sign of irritation. This was going to be trouble.

Living with Jin and Jungkook was like sharing space with a storm and a smoldering ember. Jin was a constant in the best way—mornings spent brewing coffee so strong it could double as jet fuel, evenings cooking with a precision that made you wonder why he was stuck in corporate instead of a Michelin kitchen. His calm control was a lifeline, but his lingering touches—brushing past you in the narrow hallway, fingers grazing your waist—felt anything but safe.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was a whirlwind. He blasted music at 2 a.m., left paintbrushes soaking in the sink, and flirted shamelessly to see how far he could push you. He’d sprawl on the couch, sketching in a battered notebook, his curls falling into his eyes as he shot you grins that promised trouble.

“Stop eating my yogurt,” you snapped one morning, catching Jungkook with a spoon in your strawberry Chobani, his lip piercing glinting under the kitchen light.

He licked the spoon deliberately, eyes locked on yours. “Make me.”

Jin, flipping pancakes at the stove, didn’t turn around. “Jungkook, don’t be a brat. Y/N, don’t let him bait you.”

“Too late,” you muttered, snatching the container back. Jungkook’s laugh followed you to your room, and you hated how it made your pulse jump. You’d sworn off messy entanglements after your ex, but Jungkook’s chaos was tempting, and Jin’s quiet intensity was worse. Together, they were a recipe for disaster.

The tension built slowly. Jungkook’s winks turned into lingering stares, his teasing brushes against your arm less accidental. Jin’s polite smiles sharpened, his gaze heavy when he caught you laughing at Jungkook’s antics. They never said it outright, but you felt it—a silent competition, each vying for your attention in their own way. And you? You pretended not to notice, even as your dreams started filling with their hands, their voices.

You learned more about them over late-night takeout and shared chores. Jin and Jungkook had grown up close, practically brothers, with Jungkook trailing Jin to Seoul after art school fell apart. Jin let him crash because he always had—ever since a rough summer in Busan when Jungkook’s parents kicked him out, and Jin was the only one who showed up. Their bickering hid a loyalty you envied, but it also made you wonder what else they shared.

Three weeks into Jungkook’s “temporary” stay, the dam broke. It was a Friday night, the kind where two bottles of wine disappeared too fast, leaving laughter loose and boundaries blurry. Jin sprawled on the couch, his hoodie riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach, one arm draped over the back. Jungkook sat on the floor, head tipped against the coffee table, curls falling into his eyes as he grinned at you, his piercing glinting.

“Truth or dare,” Jungkook said, his voice lazy but sharp with challenge.

You rolled your eyes, swirling your wine. “What are we, teenagers?”

“Scared?” He leaned closer, his knee brushing yours, warm through your jeans. You didn’t pull away, the wine making you reckless.

“Fine. Dare,” you said, because backing down felt like losing.

Jungkook’s grin turned wicked. “Kiss Jin.”

Your heart stuttered. Jin, mid-sip, froze, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and unreadable. The room went quiet, the air thick with something unspoken.

“What?” you said, voice barely above a whisper, your pulse loud in your ears.

“You heard me,” Jungkook said, but his tone had an edge now, something possessive. “Kiss him. Unless you’re chickening out.”

Jin set his glass down, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving you. “Jungkook,” he said, a warning in his voice, but there was something else—curiosity, maybe desire—that made your skin burn.

You hesitated, Jungkook’s words from earlier weeks flashing through your mind—his flirting, his teasing pushes. This felt like more, like he was testing you. “You’re throwing around dares like I’m here for your entertainment,” you said, setting your glass down, your voice steady despite the wine. “What’s your deal?”

Jungkook leaned back, his grin softening. “Just pushing, like always. But you ever think about this, hyung? Sharing like we did back in Busan?”

Your stomach twisted, a mix of unease and curiosity. Busan? The word landed like a spark, igniting questions. You’d spent months rebuilding yourself after your ex, swearing off anything that could hurt. But you couldn’t deny the pull toward both of them—Jin’s quiet intensity, Jungkook’s wild energy. Still, you weren’t here to be passed around. “Hold up,” you said, looking between them. “What’s this about Busan? I’m not a toy to play with, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, his bravado faltering. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly, glancing at Jin, who raised a brow. “Busan was… a summer thing. We were young, shared a fling with someone. It was casual, consensual. Nothing like this.”

Jin nodded, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “You’re not a toy, Y/N. We’d never think that. You’re in control here.”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, his tone softer. “I was just… seeing where this could go. But you call the shots. Always.”

You studied them, the wine dulling your doubts but not your judgment. Their sincerity was clear, and the heat in their gazes wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made you feel seen. You’d been drawn to them both for weeks, their contrasts pulling you in. Maybe this was reckless, but it was your choice. You weren’t just falling into their game—you were choosing to play.

“Fine,” you said, exhaling. “I’ll do the dare.” You leaned across the couch, cupped Jin’s face, and kissed him.

His lips were soft, warm, tasting of merlot and restraint. He didn’t hesitate, his hand finding your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, slow and searing. His fingers tightened on your hip, a quiet claim, and you felt the world narrow to the heat of his mouth, the faint cedarwood scent of him.

When you pulled back, your breath was uneven, and Jin’s eyes were dark, pupils wide. Jungkook stared, his jaw tight, his knuckles white around his glass.

“My turn,” he said, his voice rough. “Truth or dare, Y/N.”

You were still reeling, Jin’s touch lingering like a brand, but Jungkook’s challenge pulled you back. “Dare,” you said, reckless now, your heart pounding.

“Kiss me,” he said, not a request but a demand, his eyes burning.

Jin’s hand tensed on your waist, just for a moment, before he let go. You turned to Jungkook, who was already leaning in, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. His kiss was different—hungrier, messier, all teeth and tongue, like he wanted to devour you. You gasped into his mouth, your hands fisting in his shirt, the taste of wine and defiance overwhelming.

When you broke apart, you were panting, caught between them. Jin’s gaze was molten, Jungkook’s feral. The room felt too small, the air electric.

“You’re okay with this, hyung?” Jungkook asked, his voice low, a flicker of uncertainty beneath his bravado. “I know, she’s not like Busan.”

Jin’s eyes flickered, a silent conversation passing between them. “Not like this, but if she wants it,” he said, his hand sliding to your thigh, possessive. “She’s different.”

“Fuck the game,” Jungkook muttered, pulling you onto his lap. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your thighs, your hair. Jin moved closer, his fingers tilting your chin toward him.

“You’re breaking every rule, sweetheart,” Jin murmured, his thumb brushing your swollen lips. “But you’re worth it.”

Jin’s bedroom was a blur of heat and shadows, the cedarwood scent stronger here, mingling with the faint tang of paint from Jungkook’s clothes. A full-length mirror stood across from the bed, reflecting the chaos unfolding. Jungkook carried you in, his grip firm, while Jin followed, his calm facade cracking into something raw.

Before things went further, Jin paused, glancing at Jungkook. “Outside. Now.”

Jungkook frowned but nodded, setting you gently on the bed. “Stay put, sweetheart,” he said, following Jin into the hall.

You sat, heart racing, catching snippets of their hushed conversation through the cracked door.

“She’s not like Busan,” Jin said, his voice low but firm. “That was a fling, Kook. Y/N… she’s more... for me. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Then why share?” Jungkook asked, quieter, less cocky. “If she’s different, why not just—”

“Because she wants this,” Jin cut in. “You see how she looks at us. Both of us. I’m not gonna pretend I don’t want her, but I’m not selfish enough to cut you out if she wants you too. She gets to choose.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment. “You’re okay with that? Sharing someone you… care about?”

Jin exhaled. “If it’s what she wants, yeah. But we do this right. No games, no possessiveness. She’s in control.”

“Deal,” Jungkook said, his voice softer. “She’s worth it.”

They stepped back in, and you met their gazes, your nerves settling. Their conversation hadn’t been about claiming you—it was about respecting you. It made you want them more.

“Everything okay?” you asked, your voice steady.

Jin nodded, his smile soft. “Perfect. You still in?”

“Yeah,” you said, your own desire clear. You’d chosen this, and you weren’t backing down.

“Clothes off,” Jungkook growled, tugging at your shirt. You fumbled with buttons, your hands shaky, until you were bare, skin flushed under their gazes.

“Look at her,” Jin said, his voice low, almost reverent, as he stepped closer. His fingers skimmed your collarbone, down to your breast, leaving goosebumps. “Fucking perfect.”

Jungkook’s hands were rougher, gripping your hips as he pulled you against him. “Mine,” he muttered, teeth grazing your neck, sharp enough to sting.

“Not yours,” Jin snapped, his hand sliding between your thighs, teasing your clit with slow, deliberate circles. “Ours.”

You moaned, caught between their touches, their words. Jungkook’s mouth found your nipple, sucking hard, while Jin’s fingers worked you with maddening precision. The mirror caught it all—your arched back, their hands claiming you.

“Bed,” Jin ordered, and Jungkook obeyed, tossing you onto the mattress. You landed with a gasp, watching as they stripped. Jin was methodical, his lean frame all sharp lines and smooth skin. Jungkook was impatient, broader, tattoos curling over his arms, his lip piercing glinting.

They climbed onto the bed, and you felt small, deliciously overwhelmed. Jin grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Keep them there,” he said, searching your face. “Okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed, trusting them despite the intensity.

Jin reached for the nightstand, pulling out padded handcuffs. “Still good?” he asked, holding them up.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah.”

“Good girl,” he said, securing the cuffs around your wrists, attaching them to the headboard. The praise sent heat pooling in your core.

Jungkook spread your thighs, his eyes dark as he took you in. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he said, his voice rough. He leaned in, licking a slow stripe up your core, and you cried out, hips bucking.

“Stay still,” Jin murmured, cupping your face. “Let him taste you.”

Jungkook’s tongue was relentless, alternating soft flicks and deep licks, his fingers joining to curl inside you. Jin watched, his grip on your wrists tightening, stroking himself slowly. The mirror reflected your writhing form, Jungkook’s curls between your thighs, Jin’s controlled hunger.

“Fuck, she’s sweet,” Jungkook groaned, pulling back, his lips glossy. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

“Not yet,” Jin said, releasing your wrists. He moved to your side, his voice softer. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You met his gaze, dizzy with want. He kissed you, slow and deep, a contrast to Jungkook’s urgency, letting you catch your breath. The pause was deliberate, rebuilding the tension, and you felt Jungkook’s impatient huff against your thigh.

“Enough stalling,” Jungkook said, grinning as he knelt by your head. “Open for me.”

You did, taking him into your mouth, tasting yourself on him. He was thicker, stretching your lips, and you focused on breathing as he thrust shallowly. Jin moved between your thighs, teasing you with the tip of his cock, sliding through your folds.

“You’re gonna feel this tomorrow,” Jin said, pushing in slowly, letting you adjust. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

They moved in sync, Jin’s thrusts deep and measured, Jungkook’s shallower but rougher. The cuffs rattled, your body caught between pleasure and overwhelm. Jin’s hand found your clit, rubbing tight circles, while Jungkook’s fingers tweaked your nipples, sending jolts of heat.

“Eyes on me,” Jin said, his voice cutting through the haze. You tried, but Jungkook grabbed your chin, tilting your face to him.

“No, on me,” he growled, thrusting deeper. “She’s prettier when she’s falling apart.”

Jin’s pace quickened, his calm cracking. “You’re not walking tomorrow,” he said, soft but deadly. “That’s a promise.”

You moaned, muffled around Jungkook, and came hard, clenching around Jin. He groaned, thrusting through your orgasm, while Jungkook pulled out, stroking himself as he watched.

“I’m close,” Jungkook said, voice strained. Jin nodded, pulling out and kneeling beside you. They finished together, hot and messy across your stomach and chest.

You were wrecked, panting, cuffed, and covered in them. Jin uncuffed you, rubbing your wrists gently, while Jungkook grabbed a warm cloth, cleaning you with surprising care.

“Still with us?” Jin asked, brushing your hair back.

“Yeah,” you rasped, voice hoarse.

Jungkook flopped beside you, grinning. “You’re fucking incredible.”

Jin stayed close, his hand on your thigh. “Next time,” he said, low, “our bed. No interruptions. Whenever you beg.”

You woke to sunlight streaming through Jin’s window, the smell of coffee, and the distant clatter of dishes. Your body ached, a delicious reminder of last night, and you stretched, wincing at the soreness. The bed was empty, but Jin’s cedarwood scent lingered on the sheets, and a paint-splattered hoodie—Jungkook’s—lay crumpled on the floor.

In the kitchen, Jin and Jungkook were bickering, their voices familiar and oddly comforting.

“You touched my paintbrushes again!” Jungkook said, waving a mug at Jin, his curls a mess.

“They were in the sink,” Jin replied, calm as ever, sliding an omelet onto a plate. “Wash your own shit, Kook.”

You shuffled in, wearing one of Jin’s oversized tees you’d grabbed from the floor. They both looked at you—Jin with a soft smile, Jungkook with a smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Jungkook said, sliding a coffee toward you. “Sleep okay?”

“Like I got run over,” you said, but your smile betrayed you. You slid onto a stool, the memory of their hands, their mouths, flashing through you. Last night had been reckless, but you didn’t regret it. Their conversation in the hall had grounded you—they weren’t playing with you; they were in this with you. Still, a flicker of doubt crept in—Jin was your coworker, Jungkook was temporary, and you’d just blown past every boundary. What now?

Jin set a plate in front of you, his fingers brushing yours. “Eat. You’ll need it.”

You took a bite, glancing between them. Jungkook was sprawled against the counter, watching you with a lazy grin, but Jin’s gaze was heavier, like he was reading every thought you weren’t saying.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, “last night… we gonna talk about it?”

Jungkook’s grin widened. “What’s to talk about? You were perfect, we were perfect, and I’m ready for round two.”

Jin shot him a look. “Don’t be a brat.” He turned to you, softer. “We don’t have to define it today. But we’re not going back to just roommates. Not after that.”

Your chest tightened, a mix of relief and nerves. “And work?” you asked, glancing at Jin. “We’re still… professional, right?”

His smile was small, but his eyes were warm. “I can keep my hands to myself at the office. Unless you don’t want me to.”

Jungkook snorted. “Good luck with that, hyung.” He leaned closer, his knee brushing yours under the counter. “And me? I’m not leaving yet. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”

You laughed, the tension easing. They bickered, they teased, but their touches lingered—Jin’s hand on your back as he refilled your coffee, Jungkook’s fingers grazing your thigh. You didn’t know what this was, not yet, but it felt like a beginning. The house rules were gone, and whatever came next, you were ready to break a few more.

A/N: Hope you loved this steamy, fluffy dive into Y/N, Jin, and Jungkook’s chaos! Let me know your thoughts, I’m all ears. 😘

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jk smut #jk x reader #bts poly au #poly bts x reader #polyamory #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin smut #seokjin smut #kim seokjin #kittenanwrites

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purpleyoonn · 1 year ago

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haze || petrichor

A PETRICHOR SHORT

In which you go through the haze of your inevitable first heat with your mates. Pleasure and passion fight to take your senses as you let your mates take care of you and your desires.

Takes place after chapter 19 of Petrichor.

events not in order. just a collection of hazy memories from her heat.

tags: pure smut with a lil fluff, feral jin, cum smearing, cunnilingus, knotting, some mmf action, polyamorous relations, sub jungkook, dom yoongi, pussy eating, breast play, overstimulation, mc engulfed in pleasure, mentions of cock sucking,

completely unedited/unbeta'd

enjoy :)

masterlist | petrichor 19 | navigation

----------------------------------------------

You're not sure where you begin and where your mates end. You've never felt this type of heat before and it only seems to become quenched when you're with them, connected by the forces of the mate bond you'd only just fulfilled.

"Baby..." You vaguely hear Jimin's breathy moans as he takes you from behind, his lips creating constellations on your back as he tries to bring you both to your ends. Body alight with sensations even your naughtiest dreams couldn't conjure, you can't help but clench with every thrust, wanting your alpha to knot you. Wanted his knot.

His hand slipped from your waist, over your hips, giving a quick squeeze to them before moving under to your clit, needing you to come together.

"Alpha" You whine out, hands shaking as you try to hold yourself up on the bed, fingers curling into the fabric of the blankets below, smelling the alluring combination of your mates as you try to take deep breaths.

"That's it my loves," Hobi encourages from your side, his hand now rubbing circles into your side as he helps steady you so you don't fall. "Let your Alpha take care of you, 'mega." His hand moved from your side to your breast, groping as he moved to lay under neath you, his mouth taking your other breast in as he lapped at your nipple.

You let out a small whimper at the feeling of Jimin's knot swelling, the pleasure making your toes curl and back arch towards your mate. You began to push back, needing to feel your mate closer to you, only for him to hold your hips tight, squeezing again as he pushed your head down into the pillow, taking control.

Hobi only moaned at being squished underneath you, your breast still in his mouth as he continued to assault your chest.

Jimin's alpha took over as he sped up the pace, his fingers working to bring you to release just as his knot locked into place.

-*-*-

"Please, please, please" You chant through your haze, body jolting with each and every thrust of your mate. You gripped your arms around his neck, holding him close in an attempt to not pass out from pleasure. Despite your lucidity, you were completely unable to move. Not that you wanted to.

"That's right, love. Make her come once more. Make our omega come and I'll let you come in her." Yoongi's voice rasped in his own ears, his body laying against Jungkook's as he pounds into his tight hole. His eyes locked with your own as he moved.

Jungkook moved his head, placing a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest, his lips moving until they were wrapped around your nipple, sucking.

"Alpha" you moaned, breathless from the assault on your senses. You couldn't look away from your alpha, not even as his eyes closed and his pace slowed, harsher thrusts replacing the quick, feeling his knot begin to swell.

You can't tell whose hand touches where, but soon enough your lost in light as your orgasm hits, the feeling of being filled your only anchor to earth.

Despite both of their knots locked in, Jungkook doesn't stop moving, tugging on Yoongi's knot and making little gasps leave your lips as he continues to pump into you, small thrusts to help keep his cum inside you. To feel you clench around him. To make those sweet tears of overstimulation fall down your beautiful cheeks.

"That's enough, pup." Yoongi pulls at his hair, causing a hiss to leave his lips.

-*-*-

His lips are suckling at your scent gland, pink haze glazed over your eyes as you try to hold onto your sanity. You could feel his knot tugging at you as you attempt to wrap your legs around his waist.

"Ah ah, little one." Jin pulls back, eyes dark as he looks down at you, his marks littered around your neck and chest, a way to make sure everyone knew you were his. He could practically feel his knot swelling again, but he fought the urge to pump into you again.

His thumb brushing against your cheek, a tear following his trail as he moves again, this time, feeling the swelling of his knot going down finally.

"Jinnie.." You whimper, feeling him pull out and the emptiness form before settles in. You liked feeling full, feeling connected with them. It settles something deep within you and you didn't quite know how to feel.

"Now, little one, let alpha finish what he was doing." He tutted, lips smacking as he sent another dark look your way. You knew by now his alpha was present and you could already feel yourself getting hot again.

Jin and his alpha brought out something in you, something primal that loved to be marked and claimed and devoured until only the feeling of him was left.

You tensed up and bucked away from the feeling of his finger at your core, too sensitive to continue despite your thoughts wanting otherwise. A small slap to your inner thigh had you freezing, not knowing what your alpha was doing.

"Just relax baby, gonna scent you." His words settled into your skin, your eyes closing as you tried to relax, listening to the sound of him humming as he continued to press his fingers into your core.

The next thing you knew he was rubbing something onto your stomach and sides, his fingers warm as he massaged whatever it was into your skin.

You open your eyes, curious, only to see him going back to your core and scooping out the mixture of your cum and bringing it to your chest, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing his cum in circles.

"That's it, little mate, gonna smell like me for weeks."

-*-*-

Taehyung felt ravenous, like nothing was going to sate the hunger he had inside of him but you. His hands wrapped around your hips and laid against your stomach, holding you to the bed as he licked up your slit, gathering up your slick.

He loved the taste of you, sweet honey and almond.

Hu hummed in approval only making you squirm even more against his tongue. Taehyung knew that you loved the feeling of them humming, loved the vibrations it sent up your core.

Another wave of slick had him lapping at your cunt, moving in as far as he could until your taste was all his brain could comprehend. He wanted the taste of you to consume him, mind, body, and soul.

You tugged at his scalp, fingers knotted in his curls as he brings you to another orgasm, nose nudging at your clit only adding to the stimulation.

He knew his face was a mess as he tried to drink from you, not wanting a single bit of your release to go to waste. Not when it could go to him.

He could hear you cry out, pleasure consuming you again as he only prolonged your orgasm, dragging it out to he could continue his feast.

-*-*-

"You need to eat more, baby. Please." You pouted as the piece of fruit touched your lips. You didn't want any more food.

"Omega." Namjoon scolded you as you ignored Jungkook, a jolt going through your body as you felt him twitch inside you.

"Omega, if you eat a couple more pieces, " Jimin looked directly at Jungkook, "I bet Jungkook will let you have him as Alpha gives you another knot." Jimin had a shit eating grin on his lips, wanting to fulfill his own selfish desire of seeing your lips around Jungkook's cock.

It seemed you wanted it too, your eyes glazing a little as you looked down to his hard cock, only inches away from your face as he tried to feed you.

"But you need to eat, 'mega." Jimin coos, taking the fruit from Jungkook's hand and moving it back to your mouth, watching as you open your lips and take the fruit between your teeth.

The sight of you eating the piece of fruit had a new meaning, Jungkook and Namjoon both becoming even more aroused knowing you wanted them again.

Jungkook couldn't wait to know how your lips felt around his cock.

#purpleyoonn #petrichor #bts soulmate #bts au #bts fanfic #bts mate #bts werewolf #bts werewolf au #bts omegaverse #poly bts x reader #bts x plus size reader #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts poly #bts polyamory #bts ceo #bts ceo au

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winedarkthoughts · 9 months ago

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house of addams (7)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 7.3k

— 🍄 summary: you’re invited for a night at the Addams house.

— ☕ content warnings: mentions of (mutual) stalking and taking photos without consent, smoking, weapons + firearms

— 🕸️ a/n: ok listen, i am a sucker for tropes.

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 7: the dinner party

october 30, 2004

The gates of the Addams house greet you with open iron rails, swinging open, just like before, without any kind of assistance. It only makes you hesitate for a moment, because you figure you're in for more of a shock once you get inside.

The Addams house looms tall and intimidating from atop the hill. The sun has nearly completed its descent past the treetops into the darkening wilderness, and the windows of the house are aglow with warm light. It makes it look more like a place fit for habitation.

The image of all of them cozied up at the dinner table, ready to share a meal together like a little family, pops into your mind. But it is very quickly shooed away, because it hurts a little to think of happy families.

A few old lamposts illuminate your way up the path. When you get a little closer, you can see shadows moving through the dirty glass windows.

Even in the darkness, you can see the overgrown weeds and crumbling stone that makes up the exterior of the house, and it makes you even more curious to see what it looks like inside.

Standing on the front landing, you check your watch. Five fifty-five p.m. The invitation said six sharp, so you figure it won't hurt to arrive a few minutes early.

The iron knocker is in the image of a black cat's head, with a mouse dangling by its tail as the handle. You grasp the mouse and rap it against the door three times.

A few moments pass before the old wood is creaking open.

You're half expecting the door to open by itself like the gate, but no. Jungkook stands there, dressed in a dark pinstripe suit with his hair in slick curls. The warm lamplight crawls across his face, but his strange paleness still startles you a little.

"Good evening," he greets you, opening the door wider to beckon you inside.

You're glad you're dressed adequately. The formal dress code was a little intimidating. You opted for slacks, a white button-up, tie, leather vest (even with a silver pocket watch chain for extra flare), and an oversized suit jacket. All with the leather coat you purchased at the bookshop thrown overtop to combat the cold.

Wearing a dress isn't ideal in any situation other than for looks, especially when you're carrying items that are meant to remain concealed, so you opted for a more practical outfit.

You're expecting the inside of the house to be just as decrepit as the outside, but this isn't the case. The long, elegant hallway is lined with framed oil paintings and sconces holding lit candles, flickering in the slight draft, an air that feels a little ghostly.

You follow Jungkook into a large foyer with polished floors and a tall domed ceiling overhead. A grand staircase that branches in two directions leads up to the balconied second floor.

You can't help stopping for a moment to admire the grandeur of the place. Every curve, every corner, is embellished with carved wood or shining brass accents. It isn't even dusty, let alone decrepit.

"Come," Jungkook says softly. "He's waiting for you in the lounge."

He leads you through more labyrinthine hallways, all aglow with candlelight, gesturing you through an oak door.

The room inside is dimly lit with soft lamps, a fully-stocked bar tucked into one corner, the remaining walls lined with full bookshelves. There's plenty of seating options, from plush-looking armchairs to curving sofas.

"I'll see where he's gone off to. Wait here, please," Jungkook blurts out, sounding nervous, and closes the door without waiting for a reply.

You take the opportunity to look around a bit.

Lush ferns decorate almost every potential empty space, probably thanks to Yoongi. There's a table in the center of the circle of seating options, crowded with appetizers. Oysters on the half shell, perfectly pink shrimp and cocktail sauce, chunks of fresh salmon with lemon wedges, all resting on giant slabs of ice.

You walk over to the ledge of the bar, examining all the fancy bottles and crystal decanters. Some of them have little tags hanging from their glass necks, labelling them. Blackberry vodka, silver rum, 0.3% cyanide, hemlock syrup.

It's just as you're ducking your head under to examine the hidden shelves behind the bar counter when a light voice interjects,

"Nosy little thing, aren't you?"

You turn to find the head of the house himself standing there in the doorway, though you didn't hear it open or him enter.

You've never seen him this close before. And what a vision he is. Dressed in all black, skin showing through the deep cut V in his shirt, hair slicked back, and a grin that's just as slick to match.

"Yes," you quip back, unapologetic. "I've made a career out of it."

His smile only widens, as if to say I'm well aware.

"Drink?"

"Please," you reply.

His smile, which is much brighter and lighthearted than you anticipated, remains as he crosses the room and stands behind the bar.

"Any preference?" he asks.

"Whatever you recommend," you answer, plopping down on the velvet green Chesterfield sofa, digging in your bag for your notes. At this point, it's less of a bag and more of a giant mess of papers and folders and photographs held together by a few pieces of straining fabric.

Hoseok plucks a perfect sphere of ice out of a silver dish, dropping it into a martini shaker. He grabs the decanter of blackberry vodka, and a few other bottles and mixers.

"Very thorough, aren't you?" he asks as he pours shots and drizzles into the shaker.

"That's right," you respond, spreading out the near-endless stream of documents according to the map in your head.

You can hear the clack of the shaker, the sound of its contents being poured. A moment later, a martini glass filled with near pitch-dark liquid, garnished with a blackberry, is placed by your side.

"Thank you," you say, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. There's the hint of flavored vodka, a berry tartness, and some other taste that you can't quite name.

Hoseok sinks down in the chair across from you with a matching glass in his hand, crossing one slim leg over the other.

"So," he begins, and you don't have to look at him to feel his eyes scanning you up and down. "You're the one she settled on to sort out this mess."

You pause your obsessive shuffling.

"She?"

In the middle of taking a sip from his drink, he looks at you like he's a little confused.

"The mayor? She is the one who hired you, isn't she?" he asks.

"Yes," you admit. "What of it?"

A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"I admire your suspicion, ______," Hoseok says, and hearing your name from his mouth is strangely thrilling. "But you must trust me when I say that me and my family have done nothing to cause the deaths and disappearances, at least to our knowledge."

"Then you better start telling me what you know," you reply sharply, fixing him with a strict gaze, and he doesn't break it.

"That is why you invited me here, isn't it?" you ask. "To tell me what you know?"

Hoseok considers it for a moment.

"Of sorts, yes," he replies, cryptidly.

You suppress the slight annoyance that wants to creep into your expression, focusing back on your documents. Spreading out a map littered with red circles and connecting lines, you point to one of the marked indicators.

"This is the Addams House, correct?" you ask, instinctively using your interrogation voice without realizing it.

It makes Hoseok chuckle internally.

"Correct," he replies cooly.

"And these," you point to several of the red circles. "Are the last known locations of the five missing persons. Remarkably close, hmm?"

"Come now, ______," Hoseok says in a playfully chiding voice. "Location may be suggestive, but it isn't incriminating."

"I never said it was," you bite back. "I'm merely suggesting that this house, as well as the surrounding area, displays some very strange qualities. And I can't leave any stone unturned."

Hoseok nods, almost appreciatively.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he says, smiling that same radiant smile.

“You’ve done your job well, haven’t you?” he inquires, setting his glass down and rising from his seat, beginning to circle around the couch.

“I should hope so,” you reply a little hesitantly.

He passes by the bar and picks up the discarded martini shaker, fiddling with it, the ice inside clanking.

“How far-reaching are your investigative powers, I wonder?” he says.

He’s at your right-hand side, and suddenly he tosses the shaker halfway across the room in a perfect arc. It lands in the small sink at the bar counter with a loud clang.

Your head whips toward the sound, focus ripped away from the sea of papers.

When you look back at him, he’s adjusting his jacket lapels, sauntering back over to his seat.

“Far enough to get the job done, I suppose," you reply, trying to uphold a neutral yet strict tone of voice.

"Hmm," Hoseok says, raising a brow. "Far enough to constitute stalking?"

The back of your neck prickles.

"What makes you say that?" you ask, though both of you know well enough that you're playing dumb.

"Ever heard the expression "walls have ears?" Well, trees have eyes, and they've told me all about you."

He's back in his seat, but you still feel like he's circling around you. Not many people make you nervous, let alone intimidate you, but Hoseok is apparently one of the exceptions.

"You should know that I am very protective over my family," he says, the tone of his voice dipping a little deeper. "Naturally, I keep an eye on them."

With that, he reaches into his inside jacket and pulls out several files. Flipping open to specific pages, he throws them down on the coffee table between the two of you with a papery slap!

Staring up at you are several photos, and it takes you a second to recognize them as ones from your own camera.

Jimin, walking to class, his hand frozen in time while brushing through his hair. Taehyung, hands in his coat pockets, meandering through town on his way to the police station. Jin, leaning against the garden wall, cradling a coffee cup in his hands.

It takes you another few seconds to realize that the file is from the pile of folders you brought with you. He must've slipped it from you when he tossed the shaker into the sink, a diversion to make you turn your head.

A crooked grin, slick voice, and sticky fingers apparently.

"I admire the dedication even more than the suspicion," Hoseok says, reaching into his jacket again, but this time he pulls out a silver cigarette case.

He holds it towards you with a questioning tilt of his head, offering you one, but you shake your head. He takes one out, puts it to his lips and lights it with the flick of a lighter.

It doesn't smell like tobacco though, more like cloves and pennyroyal buds.

"Technically," you begin. "Stalking includes inducing fear in the victim; intimidation, threats, and the like."

The subtext is clear: good luck taking me to court for this.

A smile breaks out on his face.

"No harm done," he says. "They were quite flattered, actually."

You don't really know what to do with that statement. It must show on your face, because Hoseok smirks with an exhale of fragrant smoke.

"Don't worry about it, detective," he says, sounding amused. "We're all sinners here. What's a little felony charge here and there?"

You watch the ghosts of smoke twist from the end of the cigarette between his slim fingers. Something about the way the smoke moves is unusual, like it doesn't quite obey the laws of physics that normal smoke would.

"In fact," he says, reaching into his other jacket pocket. "I must admit that I'm a little guilty myself."

He takes out another folder, opens it, and lets it fall on the table. It's a mass of photos, and they're all of you. Sitting in the cafe through the window, walking through town, collecting samples at in the woods.

Now you know where that I'm being watched feeling was coming from. If you were normal, you might've been creeped out by it. But this isn't the first time you've been trailed and you doubt it will be the last.

"I'm curious, though," he starts. "What exactly made them worthy of stalking in the first place?"

You look down at the spread of appetizers like you're contemplating reaching for one. You're not going to mention how you've been trying to distract yourself from what you saw at the lake, or the fact that you find all the inhabitants of the Addams House to be a little too compelling.

"I knew that all of them were cagey if not outright lying about living here, and given this place's reputation, I found it necessary to dig deeper," you answer in a leveled voice.

"And you figured that this place might be connected to the disturbances?" Hoseok replies, though it doesn't sound like a question.

You set him with a firm gaze.

"I never ignore patterns."

He stares right back.

"Words? Yes. Actions? Sometimes. But never patterns."

He's really staring at you, like he's trying to find the answer to some unspoken question in his head. The look in his eyes is somewhere between inquisitive and impressed, maybe even—

"I think you have darker thoughts than you realize, detective," he says. The smoke tendrils from his last drag hang, mesmerizing, between the two of you.

"If you truly want to know what's strange about this place, I can show you."

He's leaning forward slightly in his chair, and but before you even have time to think about what that means, the loud clang of a bell is sounding through the air.

"Ah," Hoseok says, taking one last puff from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the crystal ashtray on the coffee table. "That's Jin calling us to dinner."

He rises to a stand and straightens his jacket lapels.

"Once you're done with your cocktail, we'll head into the dining room."

You haphazardly gather your notes, down the rest of your drink, and follow him out of the room.

He leads you through the ornate hallways, quickly darkening with the setting of the sun. The sound of clinking dishes and pleasant chatter grows steadily louder.

When you emerge into what you presume is the kitchen, you're almost struck speechless.

It's a humongous, grand, high-ceilinged room, and nearly everything is in shades of green and gold. The dark marble floors are flecked with gold veins, the dark wood cupboards and drawers are fixed with gold handles, even the smell in the air has a rich, golden warmth to it.

The countertops are a deep jade quartz, and the floor to ceiling stained glass windows are in patterns of emerald and amber. More plants decorate the space, though these are taller and more lush.

The huge stove is crowded with copper pots and pans, all sizzling and bubbling and hissing with their savory aroma.

There's someone standing over the stove, wearing a crisp white button-up and black apron, a small saucepan in one hand, swirling sauce on a plate in fancy shapes. There's a whole line of plates before him, making him look like a master chef plating up a dish for a hoard of diners.

"Oh, hello _______," the man says cheerfully when he notices you, and you realize that it's Jin (though you guessed as much from his ridiculously broad shoulders).

The next second he's squirting something into a different pan, sending up a surge of sweet-smelling flames, though he doesn't even turn his head from you.

"Hello," you manage to greet him, captivated by how he expertly juggles everything. There's sauteing vegetables, sizzling meats, a bubbling broth, not to mention something that you can't see in the oven.

The sound of shattering glass sounds from the next room.

Hoseok suppresses an eye roll.

"Please excuse me, detective," he says, sounding like a slightly annoyed parent. "If you wouldn't mind lingering in the kitchen while I sort this out. Jin so likes the company."

Jin flicks a spurt of hot oil over one shoulder, missing Hoseok by an inch, but he only bursts into laughter while sliding out of the room.

Jin doesn't seem to mind as you curiously look around the gigantic room, he just continues his work in comfortable silence.

That's a common theme with Jin. He's charismatic and perfectly capable of carrying a conversation, but he appears to enjoy your company despite how quiet and reserved you are. He merely glances your way every few moments, like he's reassuring himself that you're still there.

You like how he doesn't push you for conversation. It seems like he enjoys observing you just as much as you enjoy observing your surroundings (though you do enjoy observing him when he's not looking).

"Very impressive," you can't help but say as you watch him out of the corner of your eye.

"Thank you," he replies happily, and then adds playfully, "Feel free to mention that at the table."

Your eyes scan over the variety of coffee contraptions, no doubt because of Jin the cafe owner. Then you reach the refrigerator, black with gold handles, but instead of plastic magnets there are little antique picture frames with photos of all if the house's inhabitants. Because of course even the fridge has to align with the aesthetic.

"Looking for something?" Jin quips, clearly amused.

It's then that you wonder what exactly you'd find inside the fridge. Jin knows you've been watching him. Does he know what you suspect he is?

"What would I possibly be looking for?" you reply nonchalantly.

Jin lets out a chuckle that would dissolve even the thickest tension.

"If you're looking for blood bags and raw meat, you won't find them here."

He says it so jokingly, that you start to think maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe is he just some normal man with normal tendencies, the only reason for his nocturnal lifestyle attributed to him owning a 24 hour coffee shop.

Maybe you don't have to imagine him standing among a rack of blood bags at the local hospital, stealing them for his own benefit while leaving others without the vital resource.

Because if that's the case, then you have no reason to suspect he has anything to do with the deaths and disappearances. Maybe you could even—

"I don't keep them in that fridge," he says.

Your amused expression drops.

The timer on the oven beeps.

"Almost ready. If you wouldn't mind moving into the dining room and taking your seat," Jin says, focusing back on plating each dish.

You take the hint, leaving him in his element.

Another grand room, but with much higher ceilings, almost like a dark cathedral. There are the same stained glass windows and marble floors, and a massive crystal chandelier lit by tapering candles hangs overhead, though you have no idea how anyone could get so high up in order to light them.

Though the thing that demands the most attention is the long table in the center of the room. More dripping candles, some more like piles of wax with a lit wick, and bouquets of dried flowers serve as centerpieces. A black lace tablecloth, glinting silverware, dishes with images of crows and insects.

You don't even notice the people standing around the table until a small projectile is hurtling past you. Head whipping around, you see Jimin standing there with a slingshot held up to his face, and that face painted with a smirk.

From the way he's looking at you, it's not outrageous to assume that he was aiming at you. That is, until you hear a crash from behind you.

"Hey! Don't hit my azaleas!"

You immediately recognize the voice as Yoongi's, but your eyes are locked on Jimin. This is the first time you've seen him without a mask.

Uncovered by a hat, his silver hair falls across his forehead, and his eyes, unobscured by sunglasses, shine a strange blue-gray.

Something about his face is dangerous, it makes you want to see how close you can get before that danger becomes a real threat.

"You missed," you say, even though the smirk on his face is not one that belongs to someone who's missed their shot.

He just smiles on, and his teeth are sharp. Unnaturally sharp, as if every tooth beyond the front two have been filed down to fine points.

"If I wanted to hit you, I would've hit you," Jimin replies.

Hoseok approaches the two of you, ready to unleash another lethal roll of his eyes. He holds out his hand, and Jimin gives up the slingshot with a little huff.

"We have a no weapons at the table policy," Hoseok explains as Jimin pushes past him. You move to follow, but Hoseok stops you too.

"I'm afraid we also have a no recording devices at the table policy," he says with a knowing look.

You stare at him in slight disbelief, but he appears to be serious.

You want them to trust you, if only for the sake of the investigation. If they know something, you can't seem like a threat.

So you start to empty your pockets.

There's the microcassette recorder in your coat pocket, the digital recorder in your pants pocket, the flash drive recorder in your other pants pocket, the pen recorder in your inner jacket pocket.

You make a show of straightening your clothes before trying to slide past him, but he blocks you again with a raise of an eyebrow.

How the fuck...? Ugh, fine. You suppose you can actually be trustworthy instead of just pretending to be.

You take out the spare digital recorder in your left jacket pocket, the mini microphone in your shirt pocket, the flashlight with the secret button clipped to your belt. And the fake lapel pin. And the video camera in your bag. And the smaller backup camera in the hidden pocket inside your bag.

When you look up, you see that everyone in the room has stopped to watch you, all with expressions of slight shock.

Remembering one last thing, you hold up a finger, fishing out the micro nine pistol from the holster at the back of your waistband, setting it down at the top of the pile of contraband. As well as the extra magazine.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, and you think that maybe you shouldn’t have revealed the fact that you usually bring your gun to unfamiliar situations. But then you hear Jimin chuckle.

“Well,” he says from across the room with nothing but amusement in his tone. “It’s definitely a party now.”

Now that everyone is properly de-weaponed and de-deviced, everyone moves to take a seat, with Hoseok at one head of the table and Yoongi at the other in a tall peacock chair.

Your place is between Jimin and Taehyung, with Jungkook and Namjoon sitting across the table.

You should’ve guessed that Namjoon would be here, live here. As a P.I., you’re kicking yourself that you didn’t guess as much earlier.

Jin is still in the kitchen, dishes clanking. And what you perceive as awkward silence hangs in the air. To them, it simply feels like impatience being soothed.

You wait, wait for one of them to acknowledge the situation. Why have you been invited here?

“Did you enjoy the appetizers, _____?” Jimin asks.

You sneak a glance at him. He’s dressed in a silk shirt that billows around his form, his pale hair now pushed back from his forehead, transforming his face from relatively innocent to dangerously attractive. He watches you eagerly, waiting for your reply. He caught all of the seafood himself, after all.

You just nod in response, but Jimin flashes you a pleased smile all the same.

“We weren’t allowed to have any, of course,” Taehyung remarks, giving Hoseok a pointed look.

“Guests eat first, Taehyung, you know that,” he replies swiftly, but from the little grin on both their faces, it’s clear they’re only teasing.

You wonder how often they have guests in a place like this.

Another silence falls, you sneaking glances at everyone around the table. Except when you dare glance at Hoseok, he’s already looking. He must sense your discomfort, because then he’s saying, “My apologies, detective. We haven’t had proper introductions yet.”

He starts with the person to his left.

“This is Taehyung, our resident coroner. He runs the morgue downstairs.”

This is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Taehyung since you arrived in the house, and he doesn’t seem like the same man you met in the morgue. This man is at ease in his own home, a man who isn’t bound by professional constraints. He’s looking at you now less like a private investigator and more like a stranger that he doesn’t want to remain a stranger.

You’re not sure which you prefer.

“This is Jimin, he’s currently studying chemistry and marine biology at the university.”

Jimin meets your gaze when you glance at him, cocking his head back slightly and flashing a hint of those sharp teeth again.

“Yoongi, our genius little green thumb. He’s the one who keeps the place nice and lush,” Hoseok gushes, and Yoongi gives a little wave and straight-lipped smile, blushing only slightly.

“Namjoon, our favorite bookworm. And brilliant scholar! About to publish his third book.” Namjoon nods his head towards you with a small smile.

“And this is Jungkook, the youngest problem in the bunch,” Hoseok says, gesturing towards the young man in the pinstripe suit. Jungkook acknowledges you still somewhat nervously.

“Forgotten someone?” A voice calls.

Jin saunters into the room, having abandoned his apron for a lace jacket with sewn-on fabric flowers. He takes the empty seat to Hoseok’s right, straightening his hair. But it doesn’t like he’s been slaving in the kitchen this whole time at all. Not one stain on his clothes, not one dew drop of sweat.

“Could never forget you, darling,” Hoseok replies. “And this is Jin, our lovely chef who keeps us all so well fed.”

Jin gives a tiny little bow in your direction, along with one of his charming smiles.

There’s another pause, as if they’re waiting for you to say something. All you can think of is that they already know you, there’s no need for you to introduce yourself. So you say the first adjacent thing to come to your head:

“Glad to have met all of you.”

And you barely notice it, already looking down at your empty plate, but they simultaneously stifle the flutter in their gut.

“Alright,” Jin announces, clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat!”

Everyone but you, in near perfect synchronicity, grabs the silver cloche set before each of their table settings, and places it over their plate. Jimin gestures for you to do the same, so you obey.

When you remove it again, after everyone else does the same, the former empty plate is suddenly full. A thick and creamy soup, speckled with spices, steaming in a bread bowl crusted with garlic and herbs.

And of course no one bats an eye at the casual error in the law of physics, too busy passing around a bowl of greens to garnish and a bottle of red wine to fill their glasses. You don’t object when Taehyung holds the bottle over your own glass with a questioning raise of his eyebrow.

And by God, is it delicious. The cream base of the soup melts perfectly with hints of herbs and the peppery bite of truffle shavings. And of course, the best part is being able to break off a bit of flavored bread and dip it into the pot of gold before you.

“This is delicious,” you can’t help but blurt out, saying it like an aggressively objective fact.

“Thank you,” Jin replies, smiling wide like a child that was just complimented on their most recent art project. Except you can’t display a bowl of soup on the fridge, but you would if you could.

“Yoongi helped me forage the mushrooms,” Jin adds.

Mushrooms? Now that you think of it, the soup does have a distinct earthy taste.

“Do you forage often?” you ask, looking at Yoongi.

“Not as often as I’d like,” he replies.

“Why is that?” you ask, and a small smile tugs at Yoongi’s mouth. There’s a shared chuckle from around the table.

“What?” you blurt out, almost certain that they are making fun of you or know something that you don’t, probably both.

“You’re doing your interrogator voice,” Jimin says, but it doesn’t sound malicious, more like…endeared?

A look around the table, and everyone’s face matches the tone of his voice. He says it as if the two of you have known each other for years, as if you’re friends. It puts a strange, almost sickly feeling in your stomach. You set down your spoon.

Soon the air is filled with pleasant dinner-time chatter. They keep trying to bring you into the conversation, like you’re somehow one of them. But you’re here to get a job done.

It becomes exceedingly more difficult to concentrate solely on the case when the main course comes out. Again, due only to the covering and uncovering of your plates with the silver cloches, the remains of your soup disappearing.

A choice cut steak, generously seasoned, drizzled with a red wine sauce, a heap of garlic and herb mashed potatoes, and more mushrooms grilled to tenderness. You’re not normally fond of mushrooms, but these are surprisingly flavorful in a way you wouldn’t expect from a vegetable, let alone a fungus.

“They’re Pepperwood caps,” Jin says, as if reading your thoughts. “Yoongi grows them on the grounds.”

In all your research, you’ve never heard of Pepperwood caps.

“Hoseok isn’t eating them,” you say pointedly. “Neither is Jungkook,” you continue. There are no Pepperwood caps on either of their plates. Instead, a small pile of white capped mushrooms with brown spots.

“To my knowledge, those are Deadly Dapperlings, yes?”

They all look at each other.

“You don’t miss anything, do you detective?” Hoseok says with a little grin.

Your research on fungi has made you a novice at recognizing the lethal ones.

“Jungkook and I find that the poisonous ones have a particularly robust flavor,” Hoseok continues.

You watch him as he says it, waiting for him to elaborate, but he never does. So you return your attention to your perfectly cooked steak.

“I imagine you’re curious about what precisely the fuck we all are,” Jin interjects the silence, and your fork stops halfway to your mouth.

“Really all that needs to be said is that whatever you’ve already deduced is probably true.” He has his hands clasped together, his shirtsleeve riding up to expose the crescent-shaped bite mark on the inside of his wrist. He smiles when he notices you staring.

“Don’t worry,” he says, sounding amused. “I can be trusted around exposed neck flesh.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“So there’ll be no biting over the course of the evening?” you quip, only half joking.

Jin maintains his level gaze.

“Only if you want it desperately,” he replies.

You mold your face into a hard mask of indifference before you say something stupid.

“I must admit,” Taehyung begins. “I'm a little older than I look."

You stare at him like you’re trying to read a book. It’s true, he doesn’t look a day over thirty.

Jimin clears his throat.

"I'm not exactly...from here," he says, and when you look at him you swear you see something shift underneath his shirt.

The man in the peacock chair shifts.

"I'm a little more tuned into nature than most people," Yoongi adds. It’s only then that you notice that the dried flowers in their vases are leaning towards him like he’s the sun.

Jungkook is fidgeting in his chair, avoiding your gaze. But you can gather as much from the pallor of his skin and the deep-set dark circles under his eyes, both of which become clearer and easier to see the more times you look at him.

He has a ghostly air about him, like a whisper in the wind.

You look at Namjoon, and he smiles with a shrug.

"I just run a bookshop," he says.

A shared laugh sounds around the table. Namjoon rolls his eyes.

"Okay, maybe I've made a few blood pacts, but I'm a folklorist for Christ's sake!"

You genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. Though, judging by what you’ve seen tonight, he’s probably telling nothing but the truth.

Finally, you turn to Hoseok.

“I’m…not all there,” he says, and you wait patiently for more.

He scratches the back of his head, looking like he’s trying to find the right words.

“You can see me sitting here, but it’s only half of me. You can touch me and hear my voice, but it’s not actually me. I need to be…contained.”

Now you’re staring at him in confusion.

“You ever read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” Namjoon asks.

Before you can answer, another loud clang of the bell is sounding. Everyone else merely looks at the clock, but you flinch violently at the skull-rattling volume of the noise.

Jin wipes the corner of his mouth with his cloth napkin and pushes his chair back. Everyone else does the same, covering their now empty plates with the silver cloches.

Hoseok rises to a stand.

“Would you like to join us for coffee and cocktails in the library? Dessert should be ready shortly,” Hoseok says, though it doesn’t sound much like question when he heads down the hallway without waiting for an answer. And apparently it didn’t sound like a question to anyone else either, because Jimin and Taehyung are soon pulling you up from your chair and leading you out of the room, with Jimin even wrapping one arm around yours as Taehyung presses himself to your side.

The library is a dark room, no less grand than the rest of the house, with the same candlelit chandelier and sconces. Floor to ceiling bookshelves wrap themselves around the entirety of the room, complete with a wooden ladder on a sliding rail. There’s a roaring fire in the fireplace, and plenty of leather chairs and couches gathered around it.

Jimin lets you go when the door is shut securely behind you.

“Who wants a drink?” Jin asks, heading over to the bar cart in the corner, but you’re more drawn to the tea set on the low table by the fireplace. It’s all black and gold, with little images of ravens on the cups and saucers.

You pour yourself a cup with cream and sugar, taking a languid sip and relishing in its perfect richness.

Jin distributes the drinks as he prepares them without having to ask anyone what they want. A glass of white wine for Taehyung, something sparkling and slightly radioactive looking for Jimin, that same blackberry concoction for Hoseok, hot toddies for Namjoon and Jungkook, and a glass of some citrusy cordial for Yoongi. When you get a closer look at his glass you notice that Jin even took the time to carve a little jack-o-lantern face into half a tangerine as a garnish.

Jin makes himself the dirtiest martini you've ever seen, with only half the glass with liquid in it, the top half being a copious pile of olives.

“So, detective,” Hoseok says, leaning against one of the bookshelves. “How can we be of service?”

Your eyebrows raise.

“You want to help?” you ask, still incredulous. Because to be honest, you’re not quite sure what the purpose of this evening is supposed to be. To intimidate you? Confuse you? Judging by the fact that you stalked them because they fell under your radar of suspicion. You figured that if they were going to offer to help they could’ve done it with an email.

“Of course,” Taehyung says from his seat on one of the couches. “The last thing I want is more bodies on my autopsy table due to deaths that could’ve been avoided.”

“And something is harming the wildlife,” Yoongi adds.

You set down your cup and saucer, digging in your bag to start spreading papers all around you.

“What’s the deal with the mayor?” you ask.

“She's...unpopular with the general population," Namjoon offers. "A little too different."

"She won the election, didn't she?" you counter.

"By the skin of her teeth," Jimin replies. "Minority vote kicked in at the last second. And a lot of people aren't happy about it."

"Different, huh?" you say. The implication is clear.

"Or at least, her ancestors were, and I think her daughter is too. Tends to run in the family, stuff like that," Taehyung adds.

"She looks out for those like us," Yoongi says. "When she can, that is. It's gotten a little harder these days."

"Why is that?" you ask.

Yoongi shrugs.

"That's just how it goes. Some times are harder than others."

"Is that why the mayor wanted everything off the record? Why there's hardly been any media coverage?" you ask.

"That's what I'm guessing," Yoongi replies.

"She's paying me out of pocket," you inform them.

"That doesn't surprise me much," Namjoon adds. "She's always been too generous for her own good. I imagine she cares more about this strange case than most of her colleagues."

"So she knows about all of your…proclivities? That’s why she sent me your way?” you ask.

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Yoongi replies. “Normal people tend to think we’re weirdos, but those who are like us know when they’re looking in a mirror.”

"What about the paper?" you ask.

Their expressions cloud with confusion.

“Uh, what about it?”

Ah, have you finally breached the topic of something they want to hide?

“Several people have claimed to have negative experiences with the press, but the main publishers have barely commented on any of the cases.”

“Oh, you mean the Periscope Press,” Taehyung supplies.

Hmm, maybe they don’t have anything to hide after all. But that doesn’t mean you trust them yet.

“It’s an underground newspaper, independently published, geared towards folks like us. Though it’s mostly full of garbage these days, we don’t have a subscription,” Taehyung explains.

“We can get you copies of the last few editions, though,” Jungkook adds, startling you a little since you haven’t heard him speak much tonight. He suddenly looks down at his shoes like he just realized the fact too.

“If you want,” he says, this time in nearly a whisper.

“That would be great, thank you,” you reply graciously, though he continues to avoid your gaze.

“So, detective,” Hoseok begins, and with the drink his voice is a touch more gravelly. “What’s your next move?”

They’re all looking at you now, curious and waiting.

You look down at your notes and fight the urge to clench your fist, because to honest, you’re not sure.

“I’m sure our little sleuth has a plan,” Jimin quips from his place sprawled out across one of the couches.

“I’d like to get access to Bradley’s reports and records, and wear down Mrs. Bradley if at all possible,” you begin, forming a list in your head. “I’d like to continue fieldwork around the woods and the lake, maybe see if anyone at the university can do some tests on those unusual mushrooms. I’ll be continuing my rounds around town to see if any civilians have anything to offer. Hopefully I can get some more information on the ones still missing.”

“And the lake?” Jimin asks.

You don’t want to talk about the lake. Thinking about it puts a sinking feeling in your gut, the stench of hot poisoned salt water filling your nose.

You don’t want to talk about what you saw. In your line of work, simply seeing isn’t enough. All that matters is hard evidence. So that’s what you’re gonna get.

Downing the dregs of your coffee cup, you start to gather up your notes.

“You’re leaving?” Jimin says, sounding wounded. “Before dessert?”

“I’m afraid there’s some things I wanted to get done tonight,” you say, ready to retreat back into your hole and dive back into the distraction of your work, where there aren’t several pairs of sultry dark eyes watching your every move.

“I suppose it is getting late,” Hoseok says. Though he doesn’t mention that many of them either don’t need to sleep or simply prefer to be active into the darkest hours of the morning.

“Let us send you home with some goodies, hm?” Hoseok nods to his housemates.

Jin cuts you slice of blue velvet cake, packing it up in a little bento box container.

You object at first, saying you don’t want to take a container as nice as this one, but Jin just retorts with a wink, saying that you’ll just have to come back sometime to return it.

Yoongi takes some cuttings from one of the dining room table centerpieces, adding some clippings from plants around the house as fillers, and wraps the bouquet in brown paper tied neatly with a bow. He hands it to you with a shy expression.

Namjoon gifts you a small stack of books, bound together by a leather strap, with The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at the top of the pile. He gives you a smile when you notice.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jungkook says when they lead you through the dark halls to the front door, which you didn’t expect.

He carries your gifts as the two of you travers first the cobblestone path and then the small hill down to where you parked your car.

“Sorry we’re so strange. And vague. I imagine it’s frustrating,” he says suddenly.

The walk up to this point has been completely silent, so the sound of his voice startles you just a bit.

“Yes, you’re all very weird,” you say, and Jungkook’s face sinks.

“If any of you ever change I’ll be very disappointed,” you finish, and that puts a full smile on his face, full enough that you can see the bunny-like jut of his front teeth.

A few moments of silence, the wind singing a low song.

“You’re very cynical, you know,” he says.

That makes you look at him, but his face is that same neutral expression, dark eyes wide like a young doe’s. He says it like a simple observation, not with the judgmental you’re used to hearing.

“Am I?” you reply, unable to choke back the little sarcastic bite to your tone.

He nods.

“You think no one could ever believe you just for the sake of believing you. You think you need to prove yourself.”

You stare at him, long and hard enough to miss the fact that the two of you have reached your car.

He opens the door for you, and you’re glad that you’re heading to the safety of your home because all these kind gestures are starting to make you feel weird.

After you start the engine, Jungkook leans down to look at you through the open window.

“Try not to worry about the case so much,” he says softly. “Trust your instincts, you’ll figure it out.”

There’s a moment of silence where you stare at him some more, wondering how a man who’s been so quiet and shy for the duration of the evening can shock you dumb with just a handful of words.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage after a while. “And thank the others for a lovely meal.”

He nods and smiles, backing up to let you drive off down the hill.

Back at home, you make a fresh pot of coffee and tuck into that slice of cake while you draft an email to the mayor detailing your most recent findings.

Then you look through all the books you have on mushrooms, even go to the internet, but you find absolutely nothing on Pepperwood caps. To the rest of the world, they don’t exist.

You fall asleep with The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde lying open in your hand.

~~~

a/n: thanks for your patience! :)

#bts ot7 #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts series #bts x fem!reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts mystery #bts angst #bts poly au

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captain-joongz · 1 year ago

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Dragonheart; Masterlist

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

Genre: dragon rider AU, high fantasy, soulmate adjacent, slight enemies to lovers (if you squint), angst, fluff and humour, eventual smut

Summary: The Gong-li Empire has been on the peak of its power for a little over a millenium, and there was a very simple reason for that - dragonkind. When the first emperor of the Li Dynasty struck a deal with a witch that would allow him to bind dragons to the crown and force them into obedience, it was the beginning of its reign of terror and the end of freedom for creatures as old as nature itself.

Now, a woman hoping to change everything enters the ranks of the elite dragon rider unit among the imperial army and meets seven men that not only change her life, but help her change the fate of the whole world.

Warnings and themes: unhealthy family dynamics, fighting against corruption and inequality, revolution, discussions and themes of slavery/sex slavery and forced bondings, violence, war, near death experiences, challenging relationship dynamics, angst, discussions of mortality and death, mating cycles (yes, i'm a slut, thank u), knotting (bc i said so), there will be mxm content, enough puns and jokes about riding to make you sick of me - each chapter will have it's individual warnings

Current word count: 62.7k

A/N: i've been really craving some good fantasy lately and i'm so in love with dragons, so of course i had to write something for our boys! for this setting, kind of imagine a fusion of asian and western fantasy, the same with clothing - it's going to be a mix of both together. also i'm doing whatever i want with the boys' hairstyles so it's different eras all mashed together, just based on what i liked the most

○ Chapter 1: On the wind of morning

⇝ The first encounter between a girl and a dragon. ⇜

○ Chapter 2: The moon hangs heavy

⇝ When meeting the thunder is bittersweet and family is complicated. ⇜

○ Chapter 3: Prove your heart

⇝ How far does a girl have to go to gain a dragon's trust? ⇜

○ Chapter 4: Practice makes perfect

⇝ The rift grows and understanding is hard to come by. ⇜

Character studies

Notes to chapters:

Story lore: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Dictionary: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open): @stxrrielle @hobicakess @comicnerd557 @11thenightwemet11 @socksfirst1

@dachshunddame @channiespup @danielle143 @borahaetelevision @kingofbodyrolls

@jungshaking @futuristicenemychaos @ah2002 @tadomikiku @ambsv

@silscintilla @uniquecutie-puffs @starlight-1010 @authorpj @foreverddaeng

@canarystwin @ldysmfrst @nikkiordonez12 @mysteriousgeminizone @i-like-puppy-mg

@ttttt1re @xthefuckerysquaredx @crispynutella @asillyduck15 @icouldntcareless22

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hollyhomburg · 2 months ago

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Hold your Breath (Count to Seven)

(Pack alpha Hoseok focus, Background ot7 x reader, Omegaverse, Forced Caretaking, Omega scarcity au)

୨୧‧₊˚ Summary: When a performance keeps pack alpha Hoseok from tending to his sick omega, he struggles to contain his rage (and looks back on all the reasons he has to control his anger).

୨୧ ‧₊˚ Word Count: 16.6k

୨୧ ‧₊˚ Tags: Omegaverse au, omega scarcity, forced caretaking, idol au, Pack alpha hoseok x omega! m/c, Sicfic, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Background ot7 x reader, eventual Brat! m/c, Implied chronic health issues, themes of trauma, Hoseok has PTSD from enlistment, healing, Past Medical mistreatment, past neglect, Eventual smut, brief smut, Brief allusions to omega obedience training, Brief Dom! Hoseok, Breif Sub! m/c + Jk, referenced Dom Jimin + spanking, non-chronological storyline

୨୧ ‧₊˚ A/N: This was inspired after i got /dreadfully/ ill after seeing HOTS in march. i've been writing it for a good long while i guess! i'm open to adding more to the story if i'm inspired but as of right now it will only be 5 parts. Please enjoy it and let me know what you think! this story also does go non-chronolgocially, if we organize it by chronology this is actually the middle. basically it goes 3 < 4 < 5 < 1 < 2, but i think you'll enjoy the flashbacks of how they got togeather!

The sound of the audience and the rumble of screams and shouts are still ringing in Hoseok's ears as he exits the stage. The roar of the lyrics are a hum filling his veins. Adrenaline pumps through his system better than any drug or instinct. More addictive and more natural to him than breathing.

He’s sweat tacky in places he’d rather not name and yet despite this night- a show, the dance of performer and performance, the validation that comes from the screams of many waiting fans- despite all of that- Hoseok's still not calm. Hoseok's still not satisfied.

He yanks his in ears out, nearly tearing at the wiring the second he's clear from view. Not even bothering to put his microphone in its correct case as he moves, breathless and hurried in the direction of the dressing room.

A stagehand tries to help him, but after clocking the rage and aggression rolling off of him they think better of it and lower their gaze as he passes, practically curling in on themselves.

He's on alert, aggression a hairpin trigger just waiting to be pulled below his skin. Almost hoping for an outlet. The still lingering roaring cheers of Alphas, a good number of betas, and a sparse select few omegas ferry him as he cuts through the sea of staff.

By all metrics the show had gone well. He's not angry because he stumbled or because someone messed up the queue for the cube again. This performance had gone perfectly. It has nothing to do with why he's about to snap and punch someone. Maybe bite them. Maybe tear them limb from limb- yeah his alpha likes the sound of that. But none of this, none of this is what makes his blood hot in his veins.

That honor belongs to his omega.

You’re not just his, of course, you belong to the others too. But he’s pack alpha, so they all belong to him to some degree. The pups more so, his peers, Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi- less. Being a part of a pack is more like belonging to matching a set and less ownership.

But not anymore. You're Hoseok's. In every way that matters. You're his.

It's hard to believe, but Hoseok was not always so possessive and exacting as a pack alpha. He never had to deal with any of this- the instincts and the near-feral need that comes with them before the pack became fractured. Broken in a way that can’t be fixed by words and promises. Leaving Hoseok's alpha to pace back and forth the inside of his mind like a monster caged and understimulated.

Hoseok wishes he knew what he was giving up when he enlisted.

Not that knowing would have changed anything. But at least then he'd have been prepared.

Hoseok has seven pups and seven packmates registered to his pack. four alpha's, two beta's, and one precious omega. He's never been without his pack for so long and before 22 months ago they'd never been apart for more than a few weeks. Enlisting posed new challenges, some that Hoseok thought he'd be better at handling by now.

But adjustment takes time. Healing takes time. It doesn't matter how many times he repeats that to himself. Nothing ever gets easier (You might disagree).

The military wasn't easy. They didn't go easy on Hoseok.

He'd never been one alpha among the many, never had his rage cultivated and honed as a weapon to be used and wielded by his superiors. Hoseok learned he was good at being angry- good at melding his body and his alpha together as one- it's only now that Hoseok's out that he's struggling to detangle his sense of self from his alpha.

He'd never been without some sort of pack structure. At least not in so many years. He'd presented with Namjoon and Yoongi- had dealt with their instincts and learned how to settle his own alongside them. A good thing too because a few years after when Jungkook and Taehyung had come along. Young and wide-eyed and entirely unprepared for anything like presenting- they'd needed a pack alpha to help settle them. Someone to guard and mind their instincts, to take care of them, to push when they needed pushing and get them to bend when otherwise they might break.

But war is different. Rage- Hoseok is learning, Is a particular monster that doesn't go down easy.

Of course they'd never been completely broken as a pack. Even now Yoongi is home in the pack house still doing his daily service and coming home at the end of the day. The last time Hoseok had been home (nearly 5 weeks ago before the start of the tour). Yoongi was still struggling; Hoseok saw signs of it everywhere.

His camo jacket wasn't in the house even, it's in the garage where he leaves his boots. Takes them off before he even sets foot inside. separate lives and separate alpha's. There are pack house slippers set up by the door. 16 slippers, 8 sets, color coordinated. Kept meticulously clean like the rest of the house. Namjoon's coffee mug left by the coffee maker, Tae's scarf laid over the chair. A still life painting. hints of the pack left undisturbed. As if they'd just popped out for a moment and where coming back later.

Maybe Hoseok should have realized it when Seokjin was discharged, how you and Yoongi had gone radio silent for 6 hours. How much more communicative Seokjin was after and how every day after he told Hobi how much he couldn't wait for the pack alpha to come home. A new edge to his tone. Hoseok should have suspected something was wrong.

Now that Hoseok's home, he knows. Jin had it easier. Jin's a beta Jin doesn't have a monster in the back of his mind constantly out for blood.

He knows that Yoongi's still not used to buying less than 8 people's worth of food at a time after so many years of cooking and shopping for 8. That he struggles to fall asleep at night- too used to the press of warm bodies around him. Now Hoseok knows that Sometimes when Yoongi wakes in the morning, his hands shake. Instincts and body unsettled.

Hoseok knows, for the first 6 months of his service, his hands shook in the morning too. Call it psychological dependence or physical addiction- Hoseok doesn't quite know what it is. Although Hoseok expects that had more to do with you.

Alpha's can grow dependent on omega's after all. It's no more addictive than a cup of coffee, and yet,

And yet…

In his worst moments, Hoseok wonders what the pack would do if they didn't have you.

If you hadn't have asked, Hoseok wouldn't have let you come on this tour, would have never dragged you across the globe from city to city and would never have taken you from Yoongi. But the fact of the matter is that Hoseok is...it's not that he's not handling this well exactly but...but...

But you'd pouted, and Hoseok (notoriously weak for your every whim and desire) had predictably melted. (He'd been a little oblivious to the thankful looks shot at you over his head, he'd missed the way that Yoongi had cornered you just before the start of tour, how he'd folded himself across you.

"I'll get him back, you know I can be persistent."

"I know, I'm just worried, he's so...unhappy." Yoongi finally settled on. Even if you're both aware that that's not quite it. "You know how I hate it when you push yourself.")

But trauma changes people, it affects everyone differently. Hoseok had changed.

Now Hoseok regrets letting you come even more. When he checks his phone he doesn't have a single text from you. Not a 'good luck on the show.' Or an 'I'll be watching alpha' or anything. Which is not like you. Hoseok shouldn't be so surprised. You're probably sleeping. You're probably just resting like you should be. He'd ordered you to rest last night.

Exiting the stage, Hoseok does try and settle himself. Pausing in the darkness listening the the shouting of the crowd, slowly becoming a murmur and rumble. 60 thousand footsteps trudging towards the exit.

He spends a few moments standing there, staff around him waiting on bated breath, waiting for him to move. He's at least practicing his breathing exercises even if his body still feels like a weapon poised to attack.

When Hoseok closes his eyes, he sees each member of his pack as a pinprick of light against the map. Five dots clustered across the ocean back in Korea, one here close by, and one on the other side of the world. 7 dots and 7 breaths.

Seokjin is in France for an event that left him looking glittery and bejeweled. But he's existed as little more than sinful pictures and soft check-ins on Hoseok’s phone. His phone buzzes, but Hoseok keeps his eyes closed and breathes before he looks at it.

Those check-ins are the only way Hoseok stays sane these days. The updates from Jimin and Jungkook- shots of the dinner they make for the thousands of other recruits. 30 gallon pots of honey potatoes. Recordings of Namjoon's military band. The few promos that Taehyung is allowed to shoot- although he out of all of them is radio silent most weeks. Hoseok knows it's just because he's military police and has a higher clearance than them- even though Hoseok's technically a sergeant- but still-

Taehyung is a shifting wolf, he has different expectations than the rest of the pack.

Hoseok isn't in the military anymore. He's just Jung Hoseok. Only Hoseok could never be just Jung Hoseok- no matter what universe you put him in.

As long he knows exactly where and what his pack is doing the instincts are a little bit easier to bear. As long as he knows when Yoongi's going to come home, when Seokjin will be done with his photoshoot or recording session or this or that and is ready there waiting at the front door for a scenting or a brief nibble at their throat. Hoseok's instincts stay mostly in check.

Mostly. It's easier if Hoseok gives in, just a little bit, to what his alpha wants.

Hoseok's alpha wants more than Hoseok can give him right now, Hoseok's alpha wants blood, wants to tear this stadium apart and hunt across the city, tearing through anyone that steps in his way until he gets to you.

They haven’t all been together in so long his body is almost used to it. His body has adjusted. It’s been months now but there is still aggression that lurks under his skin, alpha constantly roiling to get out out out out. To get back to his pack, to drag them back by the scruff of their necks to the pack house and place them gently in your nest where they belong. Damning laws and discharge dates and all associated consequences.

The truth is that Hoseok's alpha doesn't know what to do when they're not together. Will keep him awake, will keep him from eating or resting. He'd heard that enlistment time could be dangerous for pack alphas, that many don't survive their 18 months without going feral at least once. Hoseok had skimmed by the skin of his teeth.

In many ways, the fight between man and alpha is like a dance, Hoseok’s alpha asks for obedience and Hoseok gives him his body but not his mind when he can help it. He runs and moves, and puts every ounce of discipline and dominance into his dance. His moves are always mastered, never shaky.

Hoseok's not sure he'd know it if he went feral.

When he'd been announced as pack alpha back just after their debut, there had been more than one article that questioned why the sunshine of the group, the ever-smiling and genial member, neither the largest nor the tallest was made pack alpha.

But size has nothing to do with it. Now, no one wonders. After seeing him perform solo on the stage they bought and paid for with their youth and hard work. After seeing him and what he can do no one questions him. Hoseok made discharge look effortless, no one would ever guess. No one would ever wonder.

Other times, Hoseok's alpha asks for more than Hoseok can give without showing it. Like tonight.

The only thing that made their military service at all tolerable was the fact that for those 6 months when the 6 of them had been in active service- at least Yoongi had been able to come home to you.

There’s a text from him on Hobi's phone and he's not asking about the show. Yoongi always watches the live stream and usually texts him the second he's hot off the stage. Asking about how it went even though he saw it. Namjoon might be the group leader but Yoongi has always felt a bit more like Hoseok's second in command.

Hoseok has no doubt that Yoongi saw right through him tonight, saw the furious crispness to his movements, and was able to tell how close he was to breaking. Hoseok doesn’t doubt that the other alpha checking his phone every few minutes. Anxiously waiting for Hoseok's response.

When Hoseok is certain he has enough control over his body that the text isn't going to make him trash the backstage area. He checks his phone.

Yoonie (10:32pm): How is she? Any news? Has her condition gotten any worse?

Yoonie (10:33pm): I know you're probably already considering it, but you know traveling isn't healthy for omega's long term. She needs her routine. You should consider sending her home.

Yoongi has gentler instincts and always has. But even he can't stay settled when their omega is sick. Yoongi also wasn’t taken away from you for a year and a half and taught to kill so Hoseok thinks he’s allowed to be a little on edge.

Hoseok shouldn't feel so fragile and so volatile. He should feel better. This is nothing compared to how it was right after he got back.

Yoongi's not the only one who's texted, the rest already have using their precious 30 minutes of phone time a day to check in. Most of the time, Hobi tries to time his updates to accumulate before they wake.

Jin gets it, Jin understands. Even though he's a beta. His text came through just before Hobi got on stage.

Jinnie (7:05pm): Let me know if you want me to change my flight.

They’ve been separated for a year. There was only Jin’s discharge and then his that they’ve all been together for. They all keep in regular contact and that’s not difficult. They check in and text daily and call weekly. But it's never enough.

As a pack with a registered omega they’re offered some allowances by the government. They get more days off and leeway if one of them gets sick or injured (like last month with Taehyung- Hoseok’s little alpha, bundled close in the nest, face tucked under your chin, so achingly still. His newly big body oh so carefully placed so that he wouldn’t strain his cracked rib.)

Alphas don’t have a better reason to fight than for omegas and recovery rates are always always higher if an alpha has been scented by an omega. The boost to their immune system alone is enough to make omega’s necessary for the war effort. The government even employs some omega's and compensates them greatly for their service as scenters.

The pack would never think about going to a government omega, not when they’ve got you at home.

As a bonded pack there’s no use, it wouldn’t work the same (and Hoseok would never offend you that way). But there’s less time given if more than one alpha is out. It’s one of the few reasons why Hoseok went in first so that he'd be able to help them all adjust when the time came.

He never expected to be the one to have trouble with it. To struggle to turn his instincts off now that they've been turned on.

The people around must be able to tell that Hoseok’s on edge, and the crowd too. Their cries reached a feral pitch, the same shouting that still vibrates the stage beneath his feet. Rage rolls off of him in waves as he stalks back to the dressing room. Smile and grin and smirk falling from his face.

They must be able to smell it on him underneath all the smell of the show, the gunpowder and fire from Hangsang, the roil of steam from sweet dreams, all irrelevant.

This is what they’ve all been waiting for for what feels like years, a chance to be on the stage again, a chance to perform. This is only the beginning leg of the tour and there are still kinks to work out and problems to solve. The logistical nightmare of moving staff and stage across multiple countries never ends. Hoseok is used to this. Hoseok is comfortable here.

He keeps telling himself that.

But right now, Hoseok can't think about it. He can't think about anything else but you.

Because you're sick.

~-~

Omegas are so rare that not every pack can have one.

Only those who can supply an above-average standard of life usually get one. Both prize and packmate. They're more common in celebrity and chaebol circles. Having an omega in your pack is the ultimate sign of success and wealth.

Some packs even have two, especially if the omega's have decided they're nestmates. But Hoseok can't imagine needing more than you.

A disease two generations ago wiped out nearly 90% of omega's. The sickness left only the most looked after, the most cared for unscathed. But those that were alive by the end of the nearly 10 year period scrambled to cope. To this day the omega population still hasn't recovered in any meaningful way. They make up only about 1 in every 100 individuals worldwide, less in Korea.

Most omega’s go through a very rigorous courting period if they're going to belong to a pack at all, only the richest and well-esteemed packs can covet one for for themselves. The rest of the world survives off of government-sponsored nesting and scenting services. There are even government agencies in charge of omega’s. Each omega gets an id card and a social worker. Hoseok hasn't had to talk to yours in years. Omegan Health Services or the OHS that tracks any omega that might have come into contact with the virus and quickly disseminates antivirals and vaccines.

You have to get yours every few months. Hoseok makes sure you never miss your appointments. Usually, he spends the following day confining you to the nest, immune to your restless squirming and your insistence that you're alright, just a little tired. Resistant to his insistence that he carry you where you need to go, that he fuss over you.

Luckily- the rest of the pack gangs up on you after your shots too. Namjoon puts your bandaid on the inside of your arm and Yoongi soothes your stomach with bone broth and light food to support your immune system. Each spoonful blown at, your lips dotted with reassuring kisses between bites. Jungkook and Taehyung usually wrap themselves around you like a living blanket to keep the shivers at bay. Nosing into your spine.

Only Hoseok and Yoongi usually attend your appointments. They're a little too intense for the others. Sometimes Jin comes. But he's the most likely to burst into tears and then you end up comforting him instead of the other way around.

Hoseok is usually good up until they actually put the needle into your skin. He'd broken a chair the first time he'd seen it. Gripping the wooden arm so hard as he heard your intake of pain that it had splintered under his hand.

There's a genetic component to being a pack alpha. Jungkook has the gene too. Hoseok has always been a little stronger, a little more resilient than the others.

Hoseok has only ever missed one of your appointments. Last year, the year Hoseok was enlisted for your shot. You'd spent weeks telling him he didn't have to take a day off for it (he'd been saving all of his leave for his packmate's ruts and your heat, but even then Hoseok knew he was going to have to miss one or two.) You said you'd be fine, that the shot wouldn't be too bad, you've had them before after all.

Only you hadn't been alright, you'd had to be hospitalized for it. It wasn't all that uncommon, omega's have weak immune systems and yours has always been particularly fragile.

Hoseok hardly remembers it. The static through the line, he'd hardly been able to hear Yoongi's voice over the roar of his heartbeat through his ears. An emergency call from Yoongi, something about an allergic reaction, anaphylaxis.

He'd have gone awol if his commander hadn't granted him emergency leave. His brain hadn't stopped roaring until he'd draped himself draped across your hospital bed after making an 8-hour car ride in 6 hours. Beret off, spilled and fallen onto the floor, face crumpling the second Yoongi rose from your opposite bedside.

"Namjoon will be here in an hour, she tried to stay up for you but the medication they had to give her made her drowsy."

Hoseok hadn't been able to speak, to respond to him. The sight of you in the bed. Small looking. The cannula. Supplying your body with oxygen because it's not getting enough. Everything screaming at Hoseok's instincts wrong wrong wrong. Fight protect keep safe.

Hoseok was terrified.

They'd given him a tranquilizer to stop him from pacing outside your door. Apparently its a normal occurrence in the relatively empty but well maintained omega's only wing of the hospital. Guards watch him with nervous expressions as they patrol the halls.

After that, he'd been a little more susceptible to Yoongi's gentle request that Hoseok should come sit by your bedside table. And what started as sitting turned into nuzzling into your hand turned into closing his eyes for just a moment.

You'd been rubbing your hands over his shaved head by the time he'd woken. He'd been so sure he'd been dreaming it, but Your honey voice is so soothing after hearing nothing but shouting to work harder and run faster you're so weak private Jung, can you even hit the target for weeks and weeks that it felt a bit like a lullaby to hear his own name spoken so gently, with such tenderness.

"Hobi, Oh Hobi. You didn't have to come all this way for me."

~-~

This is thankfully not that. Thankfully you're sick with just a cold and not the virus. But Hoseok doesn't take any sickness lightly. Not when it comes to you.

Modern medicine has come a long way, but still not far enough. Omegas are so rare a good portion of the population even abandons the idea of having an omega entirely. They’re not exactly a necessity for beta’s but for alphas- it’s a different story.

Hoseok can feel the hum of scent deprivation under his skin. The itch unlike any other. Hoseok cannot smell you on him, not his clothes or his skin. Nothing beyond the smell of sweat and alpha annoyance. Through any other performance, he’d at least have the scent of his pack on him. But not tonight, not until June when everyone will finally finally be together.

You’d been sleeping through the morning when he left, and he’d been reluctant to wake you on account of how you’d fallen asleep last night- or hadn’t. You’d been sniffling and coughing the whole night away. Hoseok had kept watch over you through it all.

What had started as a brief tickle in your throat around lunch yesterday (an easy meal- vegetables for Hobi and a tad bit of meat for you, fed from his own chopsticks, every brief shake of your head met with a disapproving look that you have long stopped disagreeing with. Hobi knows how much you are to eat, there's no reason why you need to worry your pretty little head about anything). Had developed into a fever and a few minutes of terror while they waited for the test to develop.

You've never gotten the sickness before but Hoseok knows how it would start; a feverishness like heat, then tiredness. And then all of a sudden you'd go to nest and wouldn't get up again without medical intervention. Might not get up at all. Might stop breathing- might-

He repeats it to himself again. That you're not sick with it. That this is just an ordinary cold. He has no reason to be so on edge.

The fans tonight could tell there was something wrong. Could spot it. Hoseok knows they're wondering if it's you. You aren’t a secret, but you are a private matter. A person that only the pack and the staff know by name. There have been pictures and speculation. They don't hide you but your last name is not public knowledge. You keep your face hidden almost constantly when you know you’re going to be spotted with them.

You are not someone to be jealous of but to be jealous for. You are not someone to be stalked or photographed. What they ordinarily tolerate out of necessity, they never do with you.

But alpha's are not always good at controlling their instincts. There have been incidents, not always because of them or their lack of control either. Jungkook had almost come to blows with an alpha who dared to sniff in your direction just before Jungkook's enlistment, a month or so after Hobi's.

~-~

The flash of the cameras are dizzying. There's a hush that falls over the room as you and Jungkook enter, before the roar redoubles- twice as loud as before.

You're mostly used to it by now, but still some things- like Jungkook close behind you, his big hand on the small of your back make it easier to tolerate. The press of people on either side of you is stifling, press and fans, guards and security. There's only a few moments of claustrophobia from the car to the showcase.

You hold your breath, and Jungkook stays close. It would be easier if your other alphas were here, but you're getting used to having them far away, to having them only on your phone or during evening phone calls. It's been enough months that Hoseok has stopped apologizing for leaving you and Namjoon has started making promises of all the things you'll do once you're home.

But still, sometimes you wake in the nest in the morning, big and empty of bodies, and feel so lonely it aches.

It will be worse when Jungkook goes. You know it will. Which is why you're tagging along today, why you've tagged along to schedules you'd normally avoid.

Sometimes you don't believe what hoseok says, the way that the world talks about omegas, they say you're more delicate, you're more breakable. Most of the time, you don't believe it.

Other times, like this, your anxiety rushes at you, and their touch becomes the only teather you have outside of the fear, the nervousness, the pounding tumble of your heart that ached for confined soft spaces, warmth and enclosed safety. A nest.

But you do away with your instincts today, in favor of staying close. A few more weeks, you only have a few more weeks until Jungkook goes and you don't want to waste a single minute.

One moment you're in front of Jungkook, walking almost instep with him as he leads you through rows and rows of security. You know what you'll look like in magazines later, wide eyes perched over a mask, hat with bunny ears flopping. Swallowed whole by a jacket, small next to your alpha. That there will be articles and breakdowns of your every movement.

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Being an omega can get a little frustrating. You're not the only one scrutinized this way, most omega's that mate with public figures are the topic of the tabloids. You'd flopped against hoseok's chest the first time it happened, "they only saw my forehead! how are they talking about skincare routine when they don't even know?" he'd just pressed his forhead against yours, nuzzling your nose playfully.

"I hate to tell you that you should get used to it but- the press are just kind of like that."

Most of them keep their distance. tipping their head as you pass. it doesn't make you weirded out or nervous, it just is this way. You take off your hat and mask the second you're clear of the doors and fans, about to turn and say something to Jungkook. You don't see the dark figure at the end of the hall leaning forward ever so slightly.

But Jungkook does.

it happens so quick you can't even blink, one moment you're stumbling, turning to say something to him, a security gaurd reaching out to steady you- The next moment you're holding Jungkook back around his waist, blood on his knuckles and a growl on the air.

More than one security guard and staff gets between you and the other alpha. He spits blood on the floor. Some of it hits your legs.

Your ears ring, and you can't hear anything as Jungkook shoves you behind him. Two other security guards have to hold him back. Hands shaking out of their hold.

They'd still been shaking, as he used a wet wipe to clean the blood off of your legs after.

You just don't sniff at an omega without permission, let alone reach to touch them. Let alone an omega with a pack.

"Jeon Jungkook! No! Bad!"

You don't like using their full names, never have, it's always pet names with you. Hoseok can already hear the gentle velvet of your voice crooning softly, "Hobi, are you okay? Do you want to come lay down in my nest for a bit? Can you come here alpha? I want to scent you."

You are the only person for whom his instincts bend. You are the only person he ever willingly takes orders from. The fight worn out of his body at your simplest request.

Hoseok takes Emergency pack alpha leave precious and dwindling by the month, just to handle the situation again. But disciplining his pack takes precedent.

A tidy settlement had kept the situation from leaking to the press, although Hoseok could hardly blame Jungkook for acting aggressively. His head had hung the entire time Hoseok been home. Jungkook doesn't like disappointing the pack alpha. Especially not now, when they don't have days and weeks of proximity and routine to get back on even ground. Not when Hoseok only has 24 hours, and has to leave in the morning.

It only takes one touch for Hoseok to bring him to his knees. A hand on the back of his neck the second they're clear of the outside. The pack house, dusty and mostly empty. Jungkook's mouth has been running wild since Hoseok first walked into the company building. Apologizing to anyone who would listen.

But Hoseok hadn't accepted the apology until they'd been in private.

"Do you know why you're sorry Jungkook?"

You're sat across Hoseok's lap for it, sniffling slightly. Soothed by the rhythmic brush of his hand down his back, your cold nose pressed against his throat. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his uniform before this. Jungkook is on his knees between Hoseok's parted thighs. Inches from you and kept at a distance by sheer obedience. Hoseok admires Jungkook's restraint. Not every alpha could resist nuzzling into an omega's thighs, especially one so close.

Hoseok knows his weaknesses. Jungkook is also a good alpha. Hoseok's most obedient one. But even then he's not even looking at Hobi when as he kneels.

Jungkook looks at you and blinks back tears. Hoseok wants to lick at the alpha's pretty canines, wants to press your faces together and make you kiss. Make it messy just for him. He redoubles his hold on you. holding you tighter. You lap at his scent gland, trying to soothe yourself, nearly suckling at the skin of his throat.

"For offending our omega and...for putting her in danger?" Jungkook's hands slid down Hoseok's calf muscles, but Hoseok just tipped his feet wider. Giving Jungkook more room.

The ball of your foot pressed against Jungkook's shoulder, undeterred, the younger alpha only tries to nose up your leg. Hoseok nudges between his legs with his boot and Jungkook makes a noise- somewhere between a whine and a growl.

"Look at me. not at her." Hoseok keeps him still, and yet- there's only seconds before Jungkook's attention is diverted from the pack alpha's face to yours.

"And how did you do that? How did you put her in danger? Tell alpha."

"For Fighting? For hitting him?"

Hoseok is quick to reassure him with a hand on his chin, rubbing across Jungkook's cheek. "No no no, you did that perfectly. Alpha is so proud of you for defending our omega like that, try again."

"Because" Jungkook is having a hard time stringing his words together with Hoseok's boot pressed to certain places. But that's the point. Hoseok owns all of him like this, the sole of his rubber boot pressed against his knot, gently pressing it snug between Jungkook's body and the unyielding weight of his dominance. The other alpha pants openly. Hoseok can tell that it hurts. Can tell that Jungkook likes it to by the way his mouth opens in a soundless groan.

"Because I did it infront of her?"

"Yes. And why was that bad?"

"Because stress isn't good for omega's? They're too fragile for it." That Jungkook does not say shakily. He, like Hoseok, knows it in his bones that he speaks the truth.

hoseok is perilously weak not to reward him.

"That's right. Good boy. My smart boy. Pull your pants down for alpha and show me your knot." Jungkook pushes into Hoseok's hand like a puppy, letting out a shaky relieved breath at the words. You squirm a little, stilling when you feel Hoseok's hands go firm on your waist. A wordless command to keep still and stay where alpha wants you.

Jungkook rushes to comply, eager to be good. cock popping free, hitting his toned stomach with a light plop. Resting his chin on Hoseok's knee once he's finished.

He waits. You squirm. Looking at him over your shoulder and then at Hoseok. blushing furiously. unnerved by jungkook's complete obedience. Like you're struggling not to give it to.

You rub your nose up and down the column of his throat like you're trying to soothe yourself. "M' not fragile." Hoseok pulls back to peck your nose, humming and willing to play along. His hands on you are gentle, almost too gentle.

"Of course you're not. My sweet little pup. You’re so so brave, you didn’t even cry for that long and alpha is so so proud."

He adjusts his gaze to Jungkook, who has resorted to clinging to Hoseok's legs again for comfort. Pretending he's not rutting his hips in tentative circles and making a mess of Hoseok's pant leg. Eyes teary and worked up. Teeth half bared in aggression like he wants to submit completely but can't quite will himself too. his alpha bubbling up.

"It was just...Scary." You say, quiet and soft. And when you reached down to touch Jungkook's hair, Hoseok lets you.

Jungkook sags into the touch. He chases your scent gland taking deep grateful lungfuls of the scent there. lips parted against your skin. The ache between his thighs forgotten. Teeth almost pressed and bared. But he wouldn't dare nip at you, not when you're sat in Hoseok lap.

This time when apologies dribble from his lips, Hoseok feels like he means it. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry. I won't do that again in front of her- I didn't mean too-"

Hoseok presses his shoe against Jungkook's cock again, This time there's no fabric guarding the harsh dig of the leather and tred from dimpling Jungkook's skin. The alpha yelps. Thighs shaking with the effort it takes him to stay still. Body going rigid.

When Hoseok takes his shoe off, there's a bit of white wet liquid, staining the dark leather. Hoseok's smile is near feral.

"All will be forgiven, Don't you want to show hyung how good you can be? I think you owe our pup a little stress relief Kookie." Hoseok simply shifts you in his lap. Draping one leg over either knee. Fingers dipping between your legs, low. Fingers parting warmth and sweet. Jungkook's blubbering cuts off.

"All you have to do it open your mouth and apologize."

~-~

Jungkook had been sorry, for almost inadvertently pushing your capabilities. The whole world treats omega's like this- like they are inherently fragile.

You are someone that the fans would never shove or push at. It's generally considered a taboo to be rough with omegas at all and more than one idol has had to issue a public apology after tugging their omega's hand a little too roughly at the airport or through crowds of fans.

At least outside of private matters. Behind closed doors, it's more up to what the individual omega wants. At least that's what Hoseok's learning with you.

It's also considered the bare minimum to provide for your omega an extravagant life. That at least- Hoseok does not struggle with. It's easy to spoil you, instinctual almost. To protect and provide and please.

All in all Hoseok is more straightforward that you might expect, he'll give his pack everything so long as they hold nothing back in return.

Being on tour with him means you can try things you wouldn’t ordinarily eat and go places you wouldn’t normally go. To art museums and shopping districts for pretty little diamond studded collars and comfortable designer nesting supplies. Café's for famous desserts shaped like flowers and figs, and even the exclusive omega section at Fao Schwartz.

The packages for that have already been sent back to Seoul where they no doubt fill the entryway of the pack house. Probably carefully unwrapped and organized by yoongi, still in their silk bags on the border of your personal nest at home. A custom-made monstrosity that Hoseok had made for you and Yoongi designed that cost a small fortune.

But Hoseok had no qualms with him spending the pack's money on that. Not even back at the beginning of your courtship and relationship. Nothing but the best for you.

But delicate requests for room service and delivery from a restaurant you’d wanted to try with a promise for more at the next tour stop are now forgotten. Everything is forgotten now that you're sick.

He’s aware he’s been followed, his manager, a bodyguard, a makeup Noona trail behind him as he stalks in the direction of the dressing room. Where his clothes are, where he can get his things and leave. He can feel the rage polishing his canines already.

It makes his grin wider, teeth sharper in the privacy of darkness. Hoseok is snarling at the shadows, the toothy grin crazed as he finally makes it back to the dressing room. Tearing off his jacket popping the buttons and ripping the hem of it in the process.

It can be fixed before the next performance. Hoseok would rip 100 jackets to get home to you even a second quicker.

Unlike usual, no one offers him congratulations and he doesn’t offer any thanks or encouragement. His hands shake as he bends down to undo his shoes, all but yanking them off of him. His necklaces get tangled around his fingers, 7 of them- one for each packmate, and the second he starts to tear at them. Someone reaches for him- to stop him.

Hoseok turns and nearly lunges at Mr. Lee.

Hoseok imagines it perfectly, teeth sinking in, popping through skin and blood. The image is so visceral that Hoseok almost confuses it with reality. The familiar iron tang on the back of his throat what his instincts demand.

He stops himself just narrowly before he can get to his throat. He loses a growl. A sound so bone chilling that no one dare moves a muscle.

Only pure familiarity keeps him from actually biting the other man. the fact that Hoseok's alpha has sort of identified him as someone safe. But the scent of alpha aggression in the air makes everyone, even the lowliest stagehand, pause where they’re gathered. Hoseok bares his teeth and breathes. Struggling to contain himself.

Mr. Lee doesn't flinch, doesn't even raise his eyebrows at Hobi, looking at him with that same impassive expression. Not intimidated in the slightest by Hoseok snapping his teeth.

His hand smooth over the necklaces. He lets go of Hoseok gently.

Honestly, he should be more careful, they were gifts from the pack. The pack like matching their clothes, their shoes, their jewelry, and matching pack items are fairly common, especially in larger packs.

Hoseok in particular likes to have one thing from each of them on his person at most times, especially when he's traveling. Especially since he hasn't given any of them mating bites yet (none of them could stomach the idea of doing it before service). A little memento to keep them close. The biggest necklaces are from Yoongi and Namjoon and the smallest one is from you. Each of them cost no small sum, they're monetarily valuable as well as sentimental to Hoseok.

Hoseok doesn't thank Mr.Lee as he holds his breath, counts to seven, and goes back to taking them off, this time more gently without yanking at the clasps hard enough to bend the metal. even though he's breathing heavy. even though his hands are shaking. Hoseok struggles but there’s already someone behind him undoing the clasps and finally, it feels like he can breathe.

“Sorry. I’m fine I’m fine just-” Hoseok scrubs his hand across his face. Holding the necklaces in one hand. The diamonds sway. long strands handing towards the floor.

“Can I change in the car?” Hoseok is not asking, even if it’s phrased as a question.

With the way Seejin is looking at him, Hoseok knows the answer, and that he doesn’t want to say it. “Fine just- hurry.” Everyone knows why he's on edge, why he’s off.

Everyone here is well acquainted with the pack's omega.

The first few shows you'd ever attended, you'd been quite the distraction. Falling asleep in Namjoon's lap during his makeup. tugging on Jungkook's shirt while he was getting dressed, playfully feeling Jimin's hair while he was warming up and cutting off his notes. Unwilling to let any of them go on stage without being scented. a reminder as you lingered in the wings of the stage, in their peripheral vision that made even Hoseok stumble.

Occasionally you still attend their concerts to remind them of the power you hold, that as much as you give in to their impulses, they're also beholdent to yours. The leash goes both ways.

You're a little bit of a legend among the makeup noonas, managers, and bodygaurds. Because before enlistment and before any of this, before you’d been theirs, you’d been here working alongside them- a member of the support staff.

~-~

Omegas aren’t officially banned from working, not in any legal or governmental capacity.

Every few years some asshole petitions the current government to put some ban on them working and demand they remain registered to one alpha and one alpha only as is natural. But in all reality, the world could not survive without omegas at least taking some modicum of independence for themselves.

A good number of them appreciate their freedom. Just not you.

Hoseok doesn't like to consider the world where there are no working Omega's, a world where they aren't allowed to help. Now that he's seen the military, and seen what it's like when alphas are taken outside of their normal routine and pack structure and put all together. The idea is even more unsettling.

Without omega's, alphas would break out into all-out war.

Hoseok imagines The rage. The quiet of devastation of murder out of necessity. Alphas already have a hard time restraining their instincts even with an omega. Every few weeks there are stories of some alpha going feral on the news. Can you imagine going 8 weeks without being scented? That sounds terrible. I don't think I'd last 4.

Omega’s are too gentle to do most jobs that aren't specifically designed for them. Omegas are sensitive, in need of protection from just about everything. No fear is too small, not fear of thunder or fear of darkness. Anything that can lurk can be killed, and alphas will kill for omegas. It’s a culturally accepted fact.

No alpha can maintain their instincts for long and keep them under control without an omega scenting them docile at least once a week, it's biological, a necessity as much as drinking water or eating. For beta's its slightly less- they get more snapish than feral. they need it maybe once a month.

Hoseok has still seen seokjin's hands shake, has still suffered through more than one sleepless night with jimin. His body and his brain fighting his instinct to stay awake.

There are modern solutions for age old problems of course. Before you the pack subsided the same way the rest of the population did. There are upscale scenting parlors on just about every street corner in the city, private institutions designed with open air booths or similar to cafes that pay out omega's handsomely for a little acess to their wrists or if they're feeling particularly brave- their throats.

Most priced too expensive for the average person to afford, let alone a couple of broke trainees drunk on foolish dreams. There are alternatives for most of the population. Synthetic omega scent (that always smelled too chemical to Hoseok) available for purchase at every convenience store. Fortified drinks with omega pheromones that sort of work that keep you awake when you need to make deadlines. Yoongi used to overindulge in them.

If you're willing to pay extra, you can even buy something that's actually been scented by an omega. They have boutiques for it.

Although very very few packs can have an omega- most idol companies at least employ one designated omega scenter. They’re becoming more and more popular. A perk, similar to a 401k or unlimited PTO. See you don't need to worry about who will scent you next. See, if you're having a bad day or need help pushing through, we have what many don't.

And still- despite their necessity. Not all societies worship omegas. In certain pockets of the world, omegas are thought of as spoiled and lazy. Some are even kept secret to keep their freedoms, their omegan instincts suppressed until later by medications.

Either consensually or non-consensually in your case. You hadn’t known, not until you were well into your teenage years and nearly a legal adult, that you were an omega. Your instincts remained mostly dormant (and what didn't stay dormant you neglected). sometimes you still struggle to understand what your omega wants.

The others just think you're a little more spirited than a regular omega. But Hoseok knows. Hoseok's alpha has always been able to sniff it out.

Hoseok's blood still boils when he thinks about what your parents did to you. They did it in the name of protecting you but still. He'll still rant if given the opportunity (as long as it doesn't set you on edge). Hoseok's ranting is usually met with understanding from the other alphas and chagrined comfort from the betas in his pack.

The alphas understand that the anger never really goes away. But Seokjin and Jimin are different. They get a little spooked when Hoseok shows how truly angry he is.

Jimin usually exits the room when the others decide to indulge hoseok when he wants to hash it out again. He and Taehyung and Yoongi and Namjoon will find themselves in Yoongi's studio with a twelve-pack or they'll hit golf balls off the roof of the company building when the restlessness of unmet anger really tares at them. Hashing it out yet again until the rage has quieted to a dulcet murmur and Hoseok feels like writing songs about it again.

But not now. Hoseok can't calm himself down right now- Not right now when you’re back in the hotel room running a fever. A fucking fever.

You can’t blame Hoseok. He’s protective of you for a reason. It’s not only the omega plague that has him concerned but…your general health.

It's been harder to resist the temptation to worry since after his military service. Without all of them here to temper his anger and calm him down, Hoseok's alpha has been running a little wild. Bubbling up under the surface. Constantly close and whispering in his ear.

You even thing you see it come out on stage sometimes. Sometimes when he commands the crowd or asks them to roar for him it feels almost like he's using alpha voice with them.

You’d noticed the shift in Hoseok the second he’d come back. The second he took off his uniform for the last time after 18 months. His instincts were closer to the surface than ever before. He was so quiet. So silent. None of his usual electric energy, none of his quiet sureness that you were so used to.

Hoseok hates to admit it and hates it when anyone brings it up, but military service had changed him (and not in a good way).

It’s a good thing he has you- if it wasn’t for you- Hoseok doesn’t know if he’d have been able to find his way back to himself.

~-~

Coming home went something like this:

His eyes were wide through the live, open and unsure, a dazed look, almost shell shocked. Trembling with the new weight of old feelings. The position is familiar but the anxiety at his every move being watched- is unmatched. Like Jamais vu. How did being in front of the camera get so scary?

Hoseok used to be so good at this- at being an idol. They used to do this all the time almost without thought before enlistment. Are his movements too jerky? Can the fans tell that he's about to burst into tears? Can they tell? do they notice?

Is Hoseok not good at this anymore?

Leaving his station had felt like walking away from a nightmare only to find himself still asleep, somewhere between a night terror and a sweet dream. Because you were there in the van. You were there. A small body that nearly collided with his with how fast you pushed yourself to grab him the second he'd opened the door, A hand on your back and Hobi's neck, Yoongi close behind.

The cameras had only gotten one picture. Small arms wrapped around his waist and a blurry profile of a face pressed into his stomach.

Now, he listens to the sound of Yoongi prattling to Jin in the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed in the packhouse trying to decompress. there's an invitation to shower off the scent of the barracks before dinner that remains unfulfilled. The air smells like garlic and gochujang. the tang of ssamjang too. Smoke and fire. hoseok still hasn't undressed.

But Hoseok just sits on the bed. Hoseok can't move, lead weights attached to his extremities. Frozen there. Listening to the three of you and scenting the air.

the whole house smells like you, Jin, and Yoongi. just the three of you. none of the other alpha's, not Jimin. Hoseok never thought it would smell strange to him. Never thought that it would smell even a little unfamiliar.

Yoongi is all tangerine goodness. Bright and fragrant just on the edge of ripeness. Jin is soft as a peach, sweet and gentle. But You- oh you-

You smell like warm berry jam and nighttime summer air. Something drippy sweet and dark. Like the hint of sunshine and warmth and like syrup moving slow. Those early summer evenings where you can still smell the sun on the air even though it's already set.

Hoseok breathes it in through his teeth, Gritted. On edge. Alpha close under his skin.

Jin's teasing and Yoongi's low murmur fill the air around your bird chirps and squeaks, even when he falls silent. Absorbing it all, adjusting. It's only been a few hours. Only a few. Hoseok should cut himself some slack for not immediately being chipper and lighthearted.

Yoongi sounds relieved and excited even from here. There’s expensive champagne to celebrate (Hoseok hardly tasted his glass when he downed it, trying to calm his nerves) and a home-cooked meal that Hoseok has been looking forward to for months.

He hears the murmurs too, Yoongi breathing heavy, tense. Words he thinks Hoseok can't hear. "He's so skinny hyung, I saw him take off his jacket and I could see every tendon."

"I know, I know, but he's back now, he's safe, that's all we can change now. At least it's over for him."

"But the others."

"Baby I know." A quiet whine, a chirp. "don't you worry your little head about it darling, you just sit there, would you like to try the first piece? it's almost done. You don't need to save it for alpha, he'd want you to have it." It takes everything in Hoseok not to storm into the other room and feed it to you himself.

Hoseok knows what he looks like, knows that he's skinnier than normal, that he looks underfed and somehow more muscular than before. starved for something that isn't food maybe. the military keeps alphas well fed but not satiated. feeds them enough protein and wolfsbane to make them stronger and yet more susceptible.

But in the meantime worry and anxiety have eaten away at him. His cheeks are hollow and his thin birdlike bones look like they've been wrapped with corded muscle. You'd squeezed them appreciatively earlier, the same as you had with Jin. And Yoongi's eye roll had been hassling. But even the other alpha smelled pleased.

"Yah what am I going to do, if they all come back like this it's going to be me and you against the world pup." You'd giggled, and Hobi had delighted you by letting you hang from his arm.

hoseok couldn't explain why when he looks at you he feels like crying. you're wrapped in your most comforting clothing, an old sweatshirt of his that he hasn't worn in two years and has a new hole at the hem like you've worn it every day in his absence. Giggling softly as you try and hang. Yoongi's hand twitches like he's sort of ready to catch you incase you teeter.

"You're so strong now! Bet you're stronger than Jungkookie even! you can lift me all the time not just when you wanna show off!"

"He could always lift you pup," Jin had crooned looking down at you, a head taller, stooping to drop a kiss on your forehead. His knowing smirk light and teasing. "Hobi just feels like lifting you is more for him than for you so he resists, kind of like how I feel about hugging- like this."

Jin has the longest arms but for what he can't reach Yoongi makes up for. The second he reaches around you and Hobi- Yoongi mirrors him. Both of them are in sync and Hoseok mistimed. off beat. Missing a step. Yoongi and Jin squeeze both of them pushing their chests together and trapping both you and Hobi in a Yoonjin sandwich.

Hoseok can feel how gently they do it. going slow so as to not aggravate his instincts. His alpha cocks his head, unused to the careful affection. They keep squeezing until both of you devolve into giggles and until Hoseok is laughing for real. Unbidden, face crumpling towards the end.

The pack house is part of a gated community. Insulated from the public eye by high walls and a guarded gate. It’s a mixture of modern Western architecture on the outside and traditional Korean wood tones and airy skylights on the interior.

Everyone has a bedroom although they more often than not find themselves scattered in pairs or trios. When the pack doesn't have a schedule to attend to the following day and your health allows for it- they pile into your bedroom heaped all over each other. Unworried about sleeping in uncomfortable positions or needing to wake up everyone to pee.

It's adjacent to your nest room and the kitchen on the ground floor- because you were as equally as prone to bumping into things and tripping as Namjoon. The pack couldn’t bear the idea of you having to go up and down the stairs every night.

You could call them overprotective and you would be right. Your comment about Hoseok carrying you wasn't just teasing. You're lucky your alpha's keep you on such a long (and thankfully metaphorical) leash.

Many many omegas find themselves in more controlling situations than you do. Monitored, and kept safe by personal bodyguards or packmates (often times beta's or lower ranking alphas whose sole job in the pack structure is to protect and guard the pack's omega).

The closest thing you have to that is Jungkook and Taehyung. You don't think it's that over the top. In some parts of the world omega's occasionally disappear. Snatched from street corners or stolen from nests in the dead of night. Usually just after the presentation when they haven't found a pack yet to keep them safe.

You're lucky that the pack only sometimes ask to carry you up and down the stairs. You're lucky they don't have the habit of 'omega wearing' as some more traditional all-alpha packs do. No one's kept omega's like that- as little more than pets- in generations. You don't live in a country that requires omegas to wear a collar when they're out in public.

But still, sometimes it's hard not to be protective. You're used to most of it, every time that you so much as pick up a butter knife someone's shushing you and taking it from you. When you bend down to tie your shoes someone is already on their knees before you. Your jacket is always zipped for you, mittens always on, scarf tucked. Whenever you try and put a shirt over your head someone is aiding you. You've lost track of the times that you've heard them say "let alpha do it."

Jimin doesn't even ask, he just glares and puts his hands on his hips if you struggle too much. Surprisingly stern when you feel like you want to squirm or struggle. He's one of the very few packmates whose not uncomfortable landing a swat over your behind or making you write lines.

Jimin is very very particular about the rules. there are others that apply to the rest of them like 'no staying at the studio over night' and 'pt once a week, no butts' and 'no skipping meals for practice' but there are other ones specifically for you that go a little over the top.

Rules like I will tell my packmates when I'm feeling overstimulated and I will not go places in public alone without someone there to protect me. I will not behave in a way that puts my physical wellbeing in danger even inadvertently. If I go into omegaspace I will go and get someone no matter what they're doing because I cannot be left alone unsupervised.

Other things too like- when i feel needy i will not touch myself like a greedy little pup when I have 7 healthy packmates to fuck me. When I want a knot I will not demand it but ask for it nicely and say please and thank you. I will not take out my plug after breeding until Jiminie or Hoseokie or Namjoonie has told me I can. When I want bruises during a spanking or a settling I will clear it with every alpha first starting with Hoseokie and then Yoongi and Namjoon, then Jinnie, and Jungkookie and Taehyungie, only then will Minnie take you over his lap.

And you'll say please and thank you.

You're getting a bit ahead of yourself. Jimin is a very very particular beta. You miss him so much it aches. You miss all of them so much it hurts you, manifests as a physical ache in your temples or under your ribs. A breathless furious need to burrow away where no one could see you. unsafe without your familiar cadre of packmates.

Most of the ways that they take care of you are completely innocent. A tangle in your hair is hardly there before someone asks you to come sit between their thighs, brush in hand. You rarely ever have to sit on your own, a rotating schedule of who gets to have you in their lap during meal times. You haven't picked out your own clothes in years- someone's always there to do it for you.

At least not before enlistment.

After enlistment, you'd learned to do alot for yourself again. With Yoongi home in the evenings, it wasn't quite as lonely as it could have been but still-

It's the little things, that you'd struggled to accept at first that you ended up missing the most. It's insane to you now how you used to live before. That you were used to being independent and uncared for.

Maybe the truth is you don't hate all of it. It was so much nicer than being hissed at and shunned. You don't hate it when you fall asleep in the car or the couch and Namjoon or Hoseok carries you to your bed. You don't hate it when you're in public and someone is always gripping your arm or hold your wrist and guiding over every uneven doorway or step down. holding the back of your head when they guide you to bite. You don't mind the "hold my hand pup" or "Someone's too small for that, let alpha do it."

It's strange sure, but it's a little true. even when you don't want to admit it.

It's strange when Seokjin blows on your spoon of soup before letting you take a bite. When the alphas growl at you if you linger too close to someone who's not them- But it makes you feel comfortable and cared for in a way that you weren't always used to.

Treasured. That's the word for it. You're their treasure. You don't cringe about it when you remember anymore. (The truth is that the pack has made you a bit spoiled now. You don't resist their babying nearly as much as you used too).

It had felt like something of a game at the beginning. You asked for things to see if you could and they fulfilled it, only to shrink before what they actually wanted to give. But eventually you got so used to them handling everything that even when you'd squirmed and struggled and called too much you'd trusted them enough to let them push- and you'd eventually given in.

Maybe you'd be more used to it if you were born an omega (you were born an omega, you try to remind yourself. It just feels like you weren't sometimes).

Now their bedrooms are spaces that you haunt when you miss them. when they're home there are still moments when they each need their own space to either sleep without temptation or decompress after their busy schedules. It serves no one if they always wake each other up by leaving early for filming, or practice, or meetings.

The only bedroom that’s fit with a bed big enough for all of them is your bedroom, more out of necessity than anything else since your bed is the defacto favorite. You’d tried for a normal bed when you’d first moved in but found it quickly overrun and too crowded by packmates. Giving you the largest bedroom was something Hoseok insisted upon.

His own bedroom is now across the courtyard next to Yoongi’s, hardly used. Last time Hoseok checked, Yoongi had taken to storing some of his recording equipment in there, had propped the old bed up against the wall to make room for a pseudo recording studio. Before enlistment Hoseok rarely spent a night away from you, only if you were sick again and if he had an early schedule and didn’t want to wake you- and even then- he'd just rather steal away to someone else's room rather than sleep on his own.

The packhouse is arranged in a big rectangle with an open-air courtyard at the center. The soil there is crammed close with as many plants as Namjoon can stuff there. Tended to by staff twice a week now that the alpha isn’t home regularly to look after his precious camellia and cloud-pruned spruces. The cherry tree sits stubby, blooms just tempting to burst but not here yet. by spring time a small patch of grass will sit studded with clovers and small flowers, a spot for you to lounge in the middle of the day and curl up like a cat in a puddle of sunshine.

Hoseok and Yoongi are on the other side of the courtyard adjacent to the entrance. close to it just incase anyone tried to enter. The rest of the pack is upstairs. In their various bedrooms scattered between the workout room and entertainment center a larger studio space and a tiny art room where taehyung stores his canvases.

Now, Hoseok sits in your empty bedroom. Trying to decompress. Emphasis on trying.

It's hard when every time he shuts his eyes a new memory assaults him. It's hard to stay present. Hoseok knows his breathing is getting more and more ragged the longer he spends alone. It's so quiet here in the pack house. Hoseok's alpha doesn't like it.

Hoseok closes his eyes and a gun goes off. The feeling of a gun in his hand is heavy and impersonal. Hot and sweaty beneath his fingertips.

He opens them and sees your striped red and pink robe hanging by the door, side by side with Taehyung's green and yellow one. Yours warn and his brand new but both of them purchased on the same day. Taehyung just hasn't been here to use it.

He closes them and a sergeant is yelling in his face. Prodding his shoulder with their finger until his body moves. Hoseok can feel the growl in his throat threatening to burst.

Hoseok opens his eyes and notes that you've dropped one of your heated stuffed animals on the ground, that it's rolled half under the bed, he retrieves it and sets it on the bedside table.

Hoseok blinks again and Hoseok must not be composed enough. He must lift his lip because they're yelling at him to drop and give 50. But it's better than being on night watch for a week. Better than sleepless nights spent staring into the darkness and snow, not better than your bed here, plush and soft, smelling like good summer evenings.

Hoseok undresses in the barrack bathroom shoving the second someone comes too close, body-calling threats before he's even turned to see who it is. Hot water is better than the cold that digs into Hoseok's body like it's something with teeth and claws.

On night watch near the northern border. His fear plays tricks on him, you can only look into the darkness for so long before your mind plays tricks on you. You can only hunt monsters and play at being a killer before you start to feel too real.

Hoseok takes a deep breath and counts to seven.

Tonight is supposed to be full of his favorite things. Marinated crispy beef and seafood that smells rich and buttery on the air, music playing low. Things that Hoseok hasn’t been able to indulge in in months.

Like Yoongi’s cooking and your head in his lap after. Winding down and going slow. Easy slowness warming up to it so that Hoseok can start to get used to living again. He'll go back to work tomorrow with Jinnie because he doesn't have time to waste but with this and everything else. He'll adjust.

Hoseok doesn't have to be asleep tonight by the zero hour and doesn't have to be up tomorrow morning for early drills. He can sleep as long as he wants and He's not going to be able to enjoy it at all. Not while he's so keyed up.

He tries and does his best. Breathing in and out to calm his heart rate, decompressing in the half-darkness of the bedroom. It feels a bit too much like a shrine. There in the corner is Taehyung's record player collecting dust, and there on the shelf is Jimin's cologne.

Jimin doesn't always like to hide his scent, lightly floral, something delicate like roses or lychee, fruity and divine for a beta. You like to press your face into his throat hard enough to make Jiminie giggle. Hard enough to tip him over. He's prone to exaggeration. But when it comes to others outside of the pack Jimin prefers to hide his scent with a light layer of cologne, pushing it just a little more subdued, a little more masculine.

Scents are up to everyone's preference, and a fair amount of betas wear scent blockers and Jimin prefers to keep his scent for only the pack to indulge in and enjoy.

Namjoon's bonsai tree sits in the nook by the window, clipping shears and a pair of reinforced gloves (because the pack can't even let you handle scissors without worrying a little). A piece of Jungkook's artwork hangs above the bed. something that was sort of a courting present for you, it's mostly artful splatters but when you look at it in just the right light- it almost looks like a pair of eyes. Pieces are everywhere but no pack.

All of it, all of those months of discipline and control are gone now. Done and over. Everything is in frightening detail. His civilian clothes sit folded, his jacket off in just his undershirt now.

You scented them. Hoseok can smell it even without bringing it to his nose. Everything feels a little too sensory, a little too close. Like Hoseok is too aware of his body and how different his surroundings are. He closes his eyes because he can't bear how strange his life all looks.

Hoseok knew he had to be the first alpha out, he knew that this would be difficult. That it would be hard for the others to adjust and that it would be beneficial for them all if the pack alpha came home and got settled first. Hoseok can't imagine any of his alpha pups feeling this way, can't imagine Taehyung or Namjoon or Jungkook feeling like this. So tremulous, so fragile, and yet so volatile.

There are no barked orders, there is no rigorous schedule here. Just the scrape of a wooden spoon across a pan and the quiet comfort of home (but hoseok still feels homesick). Jin's creaky laugh, and the burst of champagne. The shuffle of slippered feet across the floor too.

You’re talking to them in the kitchen, can hear Yoongi ask if you need help carrying Hoseok's champagne glass to him- a silly thing to say. but instincts are a little silly sometimes. Hoseok swallows back a lump in his throat at it.

It's not like you’re strangers again, he's had nightly phone calls and daily texts and a night or two of leave a month. It’s only been weeks since he last saw you. But keeping it together for a day before he goes back to the day-in-day-out rigor of the military is different than coming home for good.

This means more, this is different. Hoseok isn't going back. He's never going back.

He holds his breath and counts to seven, then 14, then 21, 35, 49, until he's half gasping.

Hoseok feels the need to catalog everything, the curtains pulled against the window. when did you stop sleeping with the sunlight?Your slippers by the door, new. The plates in the kitchen green instead of white. What happened to your old ones? When did you stop wearing bunny slippers and start wearing matching kitty ones with Yoongi? What more has Hoseok missed by not being here?

The scent of omega anxiety is on the air, scared and nervous. You’d been feeling all those things this morning when you’d woken. Hoseok can smell it on the bed. A nightmare? Have you been having nightmares? Is that what it is?

That’s not all Hoseok can smell, the dewy sweet scent of omega slick lingers too. Slightly stale. The spicey tang of another alpha’s arousal also tingles at Hoseok's nose. Yoongi’s and Jin’s if Hoseok breathes deep, tracing the fresh scent of tangerines and peaches, a pure scent that deepens. Soothing, a balm to his nerves and likely yours.

Whatever solution the others found for your anxiety was the intimate sort. Hoseok can tell.

Just like he can tell that someone had stripped the sheets, had taken your clothes- drenched with the scent of omega arousal, out of the basket in the corner and taken it out, probably to keep Hoseok from scenting it, probably to keep Hoseok from being on edge.

but instead of making him comforted, it just makes him feel like a failure.

Failure, failure of a pack alpha. what kind of alpha is he that he can't even handle a hint of a nightmare? He’s angry, and not at you or at Jin or Yoongi, but at the situation. At things he can't change.

Hoseok can't hear your light footsteps. Can hear them get closer and closer and closer until you're a silhouette in the doorway, lingering, unsure. Catching him like this, sat on the edge of the pack bed, legs parted, head in his hands.

Hoseok opens his eyes; a shadow cuts across the light that streams in, and he flinches before he can stop himself.

“Hobi? Are you alright?” You take a step closer to him and he tenses. You notice, stopping in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hobi-" you make to take another step closer and he lets out a sound, neither a hiss nor a whimper, neither a warning growl nor an invitation to come closer. Threat and protector blur.

For a second Hoseok's unsure if it's safe for you to be alone in the room with him.

“Stay back for a second pup, I’m sorry I’m just-” He takes off his beret, running his hands over his spiky hair. You probably thought that Hoseok went to shower minutes ago, not that he'd just be sitting here. “This is a little overwhelming.”

"What is? Us? Should we-" Hoseok nips it before your emotions have the chance to spiral.

“No. Not you- never you. Just-" he exhales shakily, trying to tame his racing heart rate. No matter how many times he tells himself there's no reason to be so on edge, Hoseok just can't will himself to relax.

"Is it being home? Being out?” Being free. It goes unspoken but Hoseok hears it and feels it regardless. He never imagined freedom to feel so stifling. To feel so unsure about his next move that he can't even make himself get up off this bed without worrying that he's going to lose control.

“No, it’s my instincts. I feel…” he trails off, resting a hand over his heart and hissing through it. You take a step back; his closed eyes shoot open and he lets out a growl. A real one. You freeze.

The tension is so thick in the air Hoseok could cut it with a dull knife. Do not let the omega escape, sweet omega, pretty omega, omega under your thumb. Protect devour provide devour, please. His instincts are practically howling out in his ear. Loud, drowning out your words, the concern.

There is a furrow between your eyebrows, Hoseok wants to smooth it out and then bite your cheeks, round and flushed. Why are you blushing?

It takes him a second to answer. He registers you've asked him another question but he can't even hear it over the roar of his heartbeat.

“Sorry. Feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Oh you- oh Hobi. You’re alright. It’s over. We’re gonna be okay.” He hums skeptically when you say it. Blinking rapidly. He hopes its so dark you don't see the glassiness to his eyes. He doesn't respond right away. Can't.

It’s a reminder he’ll need again. He's going to need to hear you say it about a dozen times over the next week. You'll repeat it to him whenever his instincts get like this; whenever they go a little feral. A little haywire. He's not sure if he wants to burst into tears or stalk across the room and pin you to the wall.

It takes a second for Hoseok to work up the courage to be honest. A few seconds where you wait, swaying slightly in the doorway. You're wearing a matching pj set, the top has little iridescent buttons that catch the light like the eyes of a sea creature. The object of his every frustration and all his desires. The confession lurches from his chest, feels like a knife, and feels near violent.

“I’m worried I don’t know how to be gentle with you anymore. They made me so- I’m worried I’ve forgotten. I don’t- I can’t-”

“What do you want to do right now? Tell me what you need.” your tone leaves no room for his anxiety and Hoseok realizes that his breathing has gone jagged. Hoseok is barely contained, teeth bared, alpha going wild at your scent. This time when you step closer, his alpha lets out a growl purr. A pleased sound, a soothing one. Tempting you closer. His legs are splayed, and a few more steps and you'd be standing in between them.

Hoseok’s hands are fisted in the sheets. He doesn't know if he can hold himself back. “Pup- I don’t, I can’t- i'm going to attack you-”

“Alpha.” Your voice cuts through the bullshit. You step closer and this time he doesn’t flinch away. You set your hand on his knee. Gentle. Barely touching. “What do you need alpha? What are your instincts telling you to do right now?”

He surges forward, stopping himself at the last moment. Your back against the door, swathed in shadow, a column of light flat across his face. Nose to nose with you. He grips your cheeks instead of your throat. You don't flinch and you don't sigh. Your reaction is immediate. Pushing into his touch. Hoseok's whole body is trembling with the effort it takes to stay gentle.

Hoseok hisses through his teeth. “My instincts are telling me you don’t smell like me anymore. That I need to bend you over this bed and make you mine from the inside out. Then take you out there and do the same to Yoongi and Jin until everyone's mine again. I want to devour you until there's no question who you belong to- until the whole world knows you're mine.”

He breaks off with a contemplative hum, and you realize how much his muscles are trembling, the dark tilt of his eyes as he stares at you, the dilation to his pupils. It’s faint, but it’s there. The physical strength it takes to hold himself back- you can't imagine.

he rests his forehead against yours. and his hand tightens to a fist on the wall. He lets your face go to skim his hand down your throat, feeling your pulse. Beating out a 120 tempo against his fingers. Then to your waist. Only a fool would mistake his touch for anything but claiming.

If you ran, Hoseok would catch you. You kind of want to do that, to run and have him hunt you down. You wouldn’t get far probably not even to the doorway. You imagine him taking you right there right where Yoongi and Jin could see.

They'd probably just tease you both and keep cooking.

Hoseok's hands smooth up and down your sides, from your spine to your ass. You let him touch. You're his in every way that matters anyway. You don't react or at least you try not too. You jump a little, when he squeezes, hissing appreciatively. His fingers continue to touch, to devour, slipping lower, palming, between your legs from behind.

He brushes something sensitive and you jerk. He growls. "Stay still omega."

"Trying alpha it's just-"

He undoes the buttons one by one on your top, hands surprisingly steady until it falls away from your shoulders. Hoseok nuzzles. Dark hair tucked beneath your chin as he mouths at your scent gland, hot breath dusting your skin. You're not worried or shy, Hoseok has seen all of you. You stay still until you feel the press of his teeth, jerking.

He squeezes your hip, reassuring you. The tension dissipates just a little.

"I’m so tired,” he laughs, and it sounds sad even to your own ears. He pulls back away from your skin, lips glossy and he rubs his hands over his face and then his hair. Your body burns when his hands leave your skin. It looks like it takes him real effort.

He leaves you there, standing half undressed by the doorway, shucking off his own shirt as he goes, setting it on the bed. Back to you.

There are bruises on his spine, up and down his back from a heavy pack or the strap of a gun you're not sure. You stumble forward, still half winded to touche them. Hoseok's body stills when he feels you come close.

You trace over them softly. Hoseok's breathing is so measured you know each breath must take herculean effort.

There have been so many weeks of teasing that have led up to this. Picture after picture, you pouting asking for your favorite alpha home. Pictures that Hoseok dared only open in the privacy of the bathroom that left little to the imagination. A shot of Yoongi's head between your thighs, a shot of you nesting in next to nothing. Virtual bait and blood in the water to Hoseok's hungry alpha more than willing to take a bite. All to give him something else to think about during that home stretch.

You wrap your arms around him and press your bare front to his warm back.

“I'm so tired that I don’t think I can be gentle, and I want to be gentle with you. I can’t not be gentle with you. I don't think I could do it without loosing control.” His fingers are mostly gentle as they pinch your cheeks, making your lips pout out. It's a little goofy.

Your eyes already look shiny, and he almost jerks when he registers the scent of slick on the air.

“Then don’t be gentle.”

“Pup.” There's a warning in his voice and he looks visible startled when he turns around. He pulls back until you let go of him, turn around. but you're not dissuaded easily, arms loose until he grabs your wrists. no matter how hard you pull you can't get them out of his grasp. but that's sort of the point.

You let Hoseok hold you, let him keep you still, a teasing smile on the edge of your lips. He huffs after a second, palms sliding up to your elbows. "You're gonna make me get more grey hairs."

"but you love me anyway?"

Hoseok nods. "but i love you anyway."

“if you can't be- then don't. Don’t be gentle, I don't care.” You’d tilted your head to the side. “Please alpha.”

Hoseok is a weak weak man. Hoseok cannot hold himself back from you. Not today. Hoseok proceeds to do exactly that, hunting and running and all. you smile and bolt, and hoseok bends to his instincts just this once.

You don't make it farther than the doorway.

Sprawled and giggling. Somewhere along the next few minutes, the sound of Seokjin and Yoongi cooking quiets, they listen but they don't interrupt. You try to push, try to fight but it's futile. it's all a game. Giggling all the while and it's like candy and conquest.

Hoseok's mouth runs wild like this- instinctual and driven.

"Is it too big for you little pup? Poor little omega stuck on a big knot, making you feel all full. Don't worry, alpha will fuck you until you're used to it again, until you feel empty without it. Keeping me warm and snug, is it too much? Don't cry, alpha will make it better. Alpha will keep you safe."

By the end of it. You'd been dazed and boneless, little more than a puddle of whimpers and whines. He had carried you tender and knotted to him in the direction of his pack. Instincts driving him to show (Hoseok is little better than a pup bringing his packmates a stick. See? See how good I bred omega, see how good I knotted her. She smells good and I made her this way for you. If he had a tail it would be wagging behind him.)

Dinner and celebration traded for a different sort of meal. Hoseok sits with you in his lap at the kitchen island. Yoongi dries his hands slowly from the sink and curses low when Hoseok holds you under your thighs, back to his chest. Spreading you for him.

"Fuck- I forgot how it looks like when you knot her it's so-"

It will take a good hour for Hoseok's knot to go down. Until then, the pack will play with you as they see fit, completely at their mercy, just the way that Hoseok likes you.

You always get a little bit more suggestible when you're knotted. Hoseok likes to think that you don't let them do everything they want to you when you are knotted but…you sort of do. While you're more than comfortable telling them off and showing off any wandering hands normally (and there are alot of wandering hands) you're almost docile when you're knotted to Hoseok.

Being knotted to the pack alpha is a bit of an invitation. Hoseok has watched the others jerk off over your chest like this, has watched them go between your legs and lap and suck to their heart's content, seen them kiss and suck until your eyes have rolled back. He doesn't mind. It doesn't make his instincts feel threatened. It feels good.

But only if Hoseok lets them. Maybe that's why you let them do it because in these moments, your bodies are locked together- you belong solely to Hoseok.

Hoseok's nose traces over your spine, over the nape of your neck. His alpha likes it very very much. The other alpha's like it too.

Now Yoongi eyes the spot where you stretch around him, the place you go pink and dewy, licking his lip and adjusting himself in his pants. Hoseok knows there's not a thing in the world he wouldn't give up for this.

Hoseok reaches between your legs. You whine when you feel him touch you, eyes fluttering against his throat, but Hoseok tips his fingers into your dewy folds, parts your lips and shows them. "opened right up, cute little cunt. Your whole body is lax, head full of mango colored cotton. the haze of pleasure just a little too much, a little too much to sort out your desire to please from everything else.

distantly you can hear yoongi's deep chuckle. "Your knot is the same size as mine. It looks like this when you do it too."

Yoongi's dark eyes are unreadable. The room smells like smoke, the burners are turned off, but no one is plating any food. Hoseok didn't even bother to undress just pulled down his pants enough to get his knot free. But you're nude clutched against his chest. Clothes torn up in the other room. Bite marks up and down your body.

Jin coos and looks you over. Hoseok feels…satisfied when the beta purrs in approval. The sight of it going straight to his head judging from the way his peach scent ripens on the air.

"It's different, it's different when it's yours."

You jerk once Jin comes close, his long fingers skimming places Hoseok can't see, buried against the back of your neck, mouthing at your nape hungry still. "Sensitive" you shutter but your pleas remain mostly ignored. a whine escapes your pressed lips and a furious blush lights down your midline. Jin keeps touching you. Hoseok wraps his arms around your middle to stop your squirming. Keeping you still so that the beta can do what he wants with you.

"Alpha bit me there too." You mumble against Hobi's throat, shifting restlessly from whatever Jin is doing. Shifting more. "Jinnie- I'm sensitive,"

You nearly flinch, but Jin's thumb presses. "Oh here? Right here?" Hoseok's teeth dip into the nape of your neck and you go boneless. Hobi laps at the pink skin when he pulls back. you pant openly, incapable of letting out more than whines.

"Let Jinnie see what alpha did to you pup." Jin drops to his knees to look closer and hobi holds you wider.

When he looks up, he makes eye contact with Hobi before you. His smile goes a little teasing.

"This little spot right? It's a very cute little spot, I understand why Hobi bit it."

Hoseok's nose traces your ear. "Don't act like it didn't make you cum." you sniffle but nod. Hoseok's knot throbs at your simple obedience. the way that you agree. It makes Hoseok want to bite you more if it's even possible. He laps at your throat some more to ignore the temptation.

"Oh? Alpha was mean? Let Jinnie kiss it better."

~-~

You end up ordering takeout. Yoongi burnt the meat too bad to be edible.

Later there is this; you cuddled up on his chest, nearly nude, wearing someone's boxers as shorts as you often do post-breeding. You claim it helps you feel closer to your alphas and although stealing clothes is pretty typical of an omega. Jin still teases, "you're not even wearing ours; those are Jungkook's."

Yoongi had stood up, pawing for his phone. "I'm gonna send him a picture- he's gonna love-" Yoongi's fingers pause on your hem. a shocked laugh bursting from his throat. "Hobi you literally left teeth marks on her ass."

Hobi's arms go firmer around you and he's about to apologize when you beat him to the punch. "I like it. If anyone gets angry tell them not to because I liked it. Makes me feel-" You shimmy and hiss at the ache in your body. "Makes me feel like I'm yours again."

There is a lump in Hoseok's throat, and his instincts go just a little more quiet. He's so fixated on that that he hardly hears your next reply, the teasing tone of your voice.

"And besides Jungkook's boxers are so much softer than yours."

"Yah-"

"You little brat." You shake against Hoseok's chest with the force of his laughter. And jump when yoongi reaches out to pinch the bruises. yoongi hadn't cum more than once earlier, and hoseok knows that although the other alpha is the least deprived out of all of them- he's still needy, still a little wound up by seeing it earlier.

They make eye contact over your head and Hoseok feels a little satisfied when yoongi looks away first.

"Fine, be like that, I'm gonna wash all my sweatshirts then and you won't have any left for your nest."

Your expression had gone suddenly panicked, "but- but-"

Now your bellies are full from takeout because Yoongi had actually ruined dinner- granted he had good reason to be distracted. Hoseok feels properly worn down, properly settled, there's still a tiny bit of anxiety in him, and his alpha still looms awfully close. But he knows that won't really go away for a good long while. Not until the whole pack is back here and safe. The doors locked and the windows shuttered.

Yoongi gets up when you ask for water, and Jin gets up when you realize you've neglected to put on your eye cream. Both strange things. In any other world Namjoon and Jimin would have done both of those things for you.

He might just confine them all to your bedroom for their first week back. His alpha likes the idea of that. You purr softly against his chest, and Hoseok holds around you with that same gentleness that he'd been craving earlier, finally capable of it with you smelling like him and the others too. They had only done the bare minimum of cleaning themselves up with lazy swipes of a damp cloth.

With three packmates wrapped around you, Hoseok under you, cheek resting over his heartbeat to listen, Yoongi against your back, and Seokjin at your front Hoseok finally feels like it's enough. You're safe like this. Nothing could ever hurt you.

Not even himself.

A concerning number of bruises trace up your thighs that Hoseok will apologize and worry over tomorrow. Even though you've told him you don't mind them- that you even like them. Everything can wait until tomorrow, healing included. Hoseok finally gets the courage to ask.

"When I came into this room, it set me off. I can tell you were anxious this morning when you woke up. What was it? Was it me?" He has to crane his neck to catch your expression and how your face goes from stricken to polished in a second.

"It was nothing, we handled it." Seokjin tries to smooth over it. But Hoseok’s warning growl cuts him off.

You trace mindless patterns over his heart, and your purr peters off. "I had this weird dream; it was a nightmare and just weird." You pause, looking up at him. Your expression is so calm that Hoseok doesn't believe it for a second. "In the dream you hated me, or at least really didn't like me." Hoseok's hold on you goes just a little tighter like his alpha is offended by the very idea of it. "There was glass everywhere and Tae was wearing pink."

Yoongi speaks, and Hoseok knows he's taking it seriously just trying to make you feel better by being a little silly."That's not that weird, Tae wears pink all the time."

"Only when he steals Jin's clothes."

"Did you know he got ketchup on the last one? I swear these kids-"

You peak up at Hobi tentatively. And he can tell that you're still a little upset by the dream. "Don't worry- I think by the end of the dream we loved each other and anyways-" You kiss his jaw, pecking at it and a lazy growl builds in his chest, spent cock twitching below you. His appetite is insatiable even after three rounds. Once on the floor, and again on the kitchen table. And again here.

"It didn't make any sense; Yoongi was a beta in it and Jinnie was an omega like me." you trace circles over his heart. "It was a bit ridiculous."

Jin ducks low pressing a kiss to your forehead, “yeah, as much as I love you being an omega I don’t know how you handle all of us pawing at you like this. I’d get like so overstimulated. And you’ve told me how sleepy you get.”

“Yeah, it is a little annoying, needing more sleep than you guys do to like. Function.”

"And like I could ever be anything but an alpha." Yoongi looks a little fragile, a little threatened by the dream. Hoseok wonders what else was in it if the other alpha is so on edge. Because there must have been more. “I can’t imagine not having instincts at all.” Jin pinches him and Yoongi jumps.

You don't have to look to know Jin's rolling his eyes. “Yeah like not growling and not nosing after anything that smells even a little bit sweet is such a curse.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when I was nosing at you yester-“ Yoongi is interrupted by a pillow to the face, feathers fluttering down as you giggle against Hobi's chest.

Hoseok ignores the bickering, still watching you. "What was I in your dream? Was I an alpha?"

"Yes, but you weren't mine." You scoot closer to him, wiggling like just the weight of your body isn't enough to get close enough. Hoseok has a feeling that in a few minutes, you're going to start tugging at the hem of his boxers and ask to cock warm him to sleep. Some nights your omega just doesn't like any distance between you and your pack alpha and now that you have him back you don't want to let him go even a little bit. You could use a plug- but your omega wouldn't like it now that you have the real thing.

(omega plugs are fairly standard, alot of packs make omega's wear them to sleep or when they go out. A physical reminder to the omega soft minded and a way to ensure they're docile. There are even fancy ones that log body temperature, dampness and location. Sending notifications to the alpha's phone and information like rem sleep and lengh of orgasam. The pack has never needed one of those with you.)

Now though hoseok wishes he had some sort of insight into what you're thinking as you rest your cheek on his chest and look up at him. frowning and thinking hard. hoseok's thumb rubs over the nobs of your spine, up and down.

“You kind of hated me and you were so sad. I couldn’t do anything about it. That's what made me anxious- the idea of you being sad and not being able to fix it.”

You turn to nuzzle into his shoulder. The movement is so routine, so normal it almost looks like breathing. Hoseok's heart hurts from it. Your scent smells a little disconcerted, a little worried. Like just the memory of the dream is enough to set you on edge. “Like I said it was a nightmare."

Hoseok just holds you tighter, dragging his cheek along the top of your head. His scenting is a little overkill given the circumstances. any alpha in a 3 mile radius would be able to tell it's him that's claimed you.

"Yeah," he says, voice rough and quiet. "Sounds like a nightmare to me too."

~-~ Stay tuned for the next part ~-~

Notes:

sometimes i feel like i frame certain scenes like i'm not like- writing a story so much as vissually looking at a tv and describing what i'm seeing. this is one of those fics that very much felt like that.

i feel like this story is more of a true story vs a plot. i've made no secret of the fact that what i really like about fanfiction is making a world that you can sink your teeth into- and i feel like this one- this universe with pack alpha hoseok is like- ugh so drippy. like i truly hope you leave reading it and feel frustrated that you're not there- even though not all of the things described in it are good. for that reason i think there's less plot in this. like i just want it to be something that envelops you- not necessarily something that progresses although there definitely is plot to it.

i toyed alot with the idea of having there be shifting wolves in the one. i put that little tidbit in with taehyung just incase i fell like touching on it here. but honestly i may not have enough time.

i think one of the scent fortified drinks that yoongi drank too much of in their trainee days was probably "omegabull" or "omegaster" idk i didn't put it in because it felt too goofy. my favorite redbull is cranberry flavor :) maybe i'd smell like cranberries if i was an omega?

okay so- the pack's scents in this- i know it's not mentioned all that much in the first chapter- but!!! their scents for hoseok and the m/c are what their scents would have been had they not been abused in bily- this universe is sort of a foil of the other one. but yeah- hoseok would have smelled like mangos :( i know not everyone will read bily who reads this so! i tried to make the allusions to it less on the nose than in the first draft.

tbh that little bit with the plates being new, this is a. a bily refrence because remember how yoongi breaks them when she leaves? yeah this version of yoongi also broke dishes when the pack left. BUT ALSO- i do think i wanna touch a bit more on yoongi and her's time alone togeather. i like the idea that in every universe, they have their moment where it's just the two of them.

the scene at the end is just hoseok: ready to pounce on the m/c scared of himself and the idea that he could hurt her meanwhile the m/c: thats hot.

the moment where he says "the object of his frustration and all his desires' is a nod to bridgerton because i was re-watching it and loving it.

if we're being honest i think that beta's might be intersex in this universe, do i really really wanna write jimin and her rubbing their pussies together? yeahhhhhhhh, am i actually gonna write it??? probably not.

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wildestdreamsblog · 9 months ago

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: Chapter 3 (Jungkook's schedule)

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: This is only a sneakpeak of day 3. I am trying to finish the last story and I have 2 more members to go for the schedule. And then the cure scene hehe.

Part 1, Part 2 sneakpeak, Part 2

Full scene in Kofi

“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.”

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x you #ot7 x reader #bts poly au

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hobicakess · 1 year ago

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PLAYING DANGEROUS | (one)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: warnings: no thoroughly edited, EW Ai , character death (nothing to cry about), black/plus sized coded reader, talks of murder, talks of torture, corporate evilness, violence, Mc reads hobi to filth, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), one maknae introduction, maknae helping cause chaos, cigarettes, Yoonie is an angry kitty this chapter, bratty mc, mc is kinda a bitch (a bad one at that), unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday) SMUT— nothing too crazy , choking, sub mc , missionary, mating press , man handling (yummy)

a/n: HEYYY omg this took me so long to write and it's just a little over 2k words... LMAO I suck i know, but we're getting there I pinkie promise. I really hope you all enjoy this and constructive criticism is welcome!!

TAGLIST: @sumzysworld @bbgniecyy @paramedicnerd004 @heartsbr0ken @grltwin @superbbananananana @secfir @darkuni63 @thisladysperspective @p34rluv @secfir @sarcastic-cookie @coffeedepressionsoup @ot7nem @italiekim @cynicalbitch666 @jalexd @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop

2 MONTHS BEFORE JACKS ESCAPE

Kim multimedia station.

The place of business was always busy and there was never not anything to be done, Endless reports and stories in need of being written, the podcast teams always chattering about the hottest topics.

KMMs was a journalist's dream — your dream.

You were a known face around the company both online and in person. A pretty foreigner who was damn good at her job and that made you favored by the late CEO Kim. You were always hand picked by him to attend press conferences in his favor. He treated you kindly, allowing you into a large world of business pulling strings to get you the best stories helping you— a once broke freshly graduated English major climbing up in the world of reporting.

It's only been three months since CEO Kim passed away and the company was changing fast. You were grateful that you weren't a part of the many that were fired and replaced by new faces and AI, and you were now noticing how low the viewers were on podcasts, social media and blogs.

KMM was dying out very slowly and that meant you might go away with it. You were dedicated to your work, and the company that helped you become the person you were today.

And you were willing to do anything to not be forgotten.

Sleeping was not on the agenda right now.

A quick double tap to a cell phone showed an awfully bright screen reading 4:40 am. You had been lying in your bed mind racing while staring at your wall for the past hour and a half.

Jack in the box.

Rolling out the tangled bedsheets and arms you pull on a large T-shirt that'd been discarded a long with the other items of clothing on the floor shuffling towards the desk in the corner of your room. Laptop already open from your previous research when you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your drawer before plunging deep into the web. Your mouse clicks every site as your pen moved furiously taking in all the information you can about said serial killer.

“On May 14th, 2018 Serial Killer Jack In The Box was finally caught after a murdering spree in Seoul. The killings of ordinary outgoing individuals taken with a quick swipe of a knife and a long torture method.”

"Before his kills Jack likes to taunt his victim. He ironically sends them a Jack in the box to let them know they're next. The next few days said victim lives in constant fear, looking over their shoulder, leading the mostly known outgoing victim to slowly isolate themselves from loved ones in fear of them being hurt, eventually this leads to insomnia and in some cases hallucinations and histera. Then Jack disappears for a while making them think they're finally okay and he's gone until he wasn't."

The scoff that left your lips echoed through the quiet room, breathing out the nicotine smoke from your Cancer stick.

So Jack was an antisocial loser and took out his lack of social skills on people who could.

"No one knows of Jack's real identity. Police have reported that the man has lived many lives and has owned many faces for the past 11 years. Reporters have tried their hardest for the past 4 years to get a one on one interview with the man but unfortunately he refuses to talk only resorting to violence."

A reporter says he went for a handshake and left with two missing fingers.

Another says he watched the man bang his head on the wall hard enough to bleed when he asked the murderer's real name.

A broken arm??

“Fuck” you huff flicking the ash at the butt of your cigarette. You stare at the mugshot photos supplied at the end of the article. Dark wide eyes, shaggy black hair falling over his forehead, the piercings sticking from the bridge of his nose eyebrow and top lip.

The look definitely screams psycho but…. he was kinda hot. It took everything in you not to go and click the endless fanfiction that you stumbled upon.

A pair of warm lips press onto your shoulder causing you to jump. Turning to look over your shoulder at the shirtless sight of Kim Namjoon.

“We have to be up in four hours, baby, come back to bed.”

You hum into his embrace with a pout stubbing out the cigarette into the pink ashtray beside your computer. “Did you know Jack went through eight lawyers? Until one day he randomly called Kim Seokjin. That high profile guy from the law firm we're partnered with? they must know each other”

Though Namjoons attention was not on the words that were leaving your mouth. Hands wander all over your body while placing kisses on your neck, and cheeks.

“He literally bit the finger of the last reporter clean off. Like do you know how much force you have to put into that? I think he reads too much gothic liter—”

Cutting you off with a quick grab of your jaw turning your head to connect his plump lips to own. Pulling away with a cheeky dimpled smirk, “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about another man.”

“Well you shouldn't feel any type of way because you aren't MY man.”

You squeal when you're lifted up from your chair and throw over a broad shoulder. He huffs when he throws you onto the memory foam comforter, your (his) shirt lifting up your thighs exposing your bare cunt. Immediately his big body was hovering over you as he slightly pressed his body weight onto you.

“Get off you dick” pushing and smacking his tan shoulders but that did nothing for you at this moment. “Well I'm trying to put it in you.”

He bullies your legs up over his shoulders as he taps his hard piece against the wetness between your thighs. “If something happens to me during this case I swear�� choking on your words as he slowly but surely presses his thick head into your cunt.

“Fuck — may the man himself strike me down.”

Hand reaching to grip your throat smashing your lips together. Luckily your mind left the thoughts of the serial killer , the only thing on your mind right now was Namjoon and his ridiculously large cockm

It wasn't weird for you to obsess over your assignments to the point where it was all you thought about. Everyone does that.

Though this one you couldn't seem to finesse your way out of. Without the help of the late Kim you'd have to pull your own strings to get what you wanted and now that Namjoon was in charge he loved making your life harder.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up from your laptop hand stalling from moving on your notepad face to face with gorgeously pale Detective Min Yoongi.

“Yoonie” you smile, motioning for him to sit in front of you. He looked different from when you last saw him all the months ago, more tired and cat- like you guessed it was from the heavy responsibilities that came with the position as Chief of Seouls police department

“Did you just call to look at me?”

“Sorry it's just been . . a while” you push the large Iced Americano towards him as a peace offering. He gladly accepted it with an amused raise of an eyebrow, “You know I just wait for your call.”

“The phone works both ways” you internally wince , you sounded like an estranged father talking to his child.

“What do you want?” A frown spread across your face and lips, shutting your laptop. “I can't call an old friend for a friendly coffee date.”

You waited for his answer as he took his time generously drinking from his plastic cup. With a smack of his lips he sat the cup down leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You only call me ‘Yoonie’ when you want something” eyes scanning over the scatter of papers and notes taking up your side of the table.

“This must be serious”

Hands going to clasp under your chin you sigh, cutting the bullshit. “Three years ago you were the lead investigator on the Jack in the box case which brought you from rookie detective to Chief of police.”

“I was wondering if you could help old friend out tell me what you know about-”

“No.” He cuts you off with little to no thought.

“No? Why not? This isn't our first rodeo Min”

There were plenty of times Yoongi helped you with stories without a second thought. He'd give you case files, witnesses, and anything you needed but why not now?

“Anybody but him”

You scoffed at him, irritation rising in your body. “I need this story not anyone else.”

“Well I can't help you, princess.”

“That's bullshit!” Your voice raises causing a couple people around you to turn their attention towards the two of you. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, slamming a few dollars on the table. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Turning on his heel he leaves you sitting there in your slowly growing rage. You quickly hopped from your seat chasing after him, managing to catch up with his long strides. “Yoongi slow down dammit”

He twirls around grabbing onto you by your arm, “Who gave you this story.

“Namjoon he-” you whine as his grip tightens on your arm as his eyes slit. The angry red scar on his face makes his angry stare look even more intimidating. “You don't understand how dangerous Jack is. Just because he's behind bars doesn't mean he won't have people on the outside that will whack you for being a nosy reporter.”

He softens his hold, lifting his hand to rub your cold cheek. “If something happens to you. . .” He shakes his head letting you go.

“Sit this one out Y/N I don't want to see you in our precinct mortuary.” with that he walks away disappearing into the crowd.

You sniff doing the walk of shame back to the Café sitting back in your seat with your head in your hands

Detective Min Yoongi.

“Excuse me Ma’am” the blonde barista came over holding a box of blueberry doughnuts which happened to be your favorite. “It's on the house.. everyone saw your fight with your boyfriend, manager said this might help cheer you up.”

“Oh! Thank you but he wasn't my boyfriend, just a work colleague.” You tried to defend yourself but the sympathy in his eyes only grew so you accepted the treat with another thank you. “What is your name? I've never seen you here before.”

A soft brightens his pretty face, eyes scrunching slightly adding to the prettiness of his face. “Park Jimin, Ma’am.”

MEANWHILE

The buzz of the electrically wired door opening didn't alert the man that stayed deep in the corner of his cell. “Long time no see.”

“Why now?” the visitor asks, “After all this time you choose now.”

He giggled, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls. “Did you bring what I asked for”

The visitor threw the pictures and the box of cigarettes into the cell. “Answer my question.”

“It's been three longgg years.” He finally answered, moving from his corner to pick up the photos. “Tell me is she this gorgeous in person?”

“Just for her?”

“And I need to stretch my legs” he laughs louder this time the high pitched sound echoed even through the thick steel door that kept him locked in tight.

Jack was ready to play more games

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mysteriousgeminizone · 2 months ago

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MAYA MASTERLIST

My Azaleas, Your Azalea (MAYA)

SUMMURY: Pain is pain, it always hits hard. But we are each others hopes for the future. We are each others Azaleas.

At the Azalea Hybrid Rescue Center, Y/n is more than just a volunteer—she's a lifeline for those who've been forgotten. When seven very different hybrids enter her life, each carrying their own scars, mistrust, and stories of mistreatment, a quiet bond begins to form. Through broken trust, difficult healing, and the slow bloom of something deeper, these eight souls must learn to rely on one another. But love is never easy—and their path to a happy ending is anything but simple. Will they find peace, together?

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Emotional, verbal, and implied physical abuse; Neglect and trauma recovery; power imbalance; Emotional manipulation; mentions of captivity and confinement; anxiety and trust issues; graphic violence and threats; slow-burn; emotional healing; polyrelationships; Hybrid/human relationship; smut; minor character deaths; reverse harem

CHAPTERS:

[BTS x F] Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

[BTS x M] Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Taglist Open

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namjooningelsewhere · 11 months ago

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War Of The Hearts: #9

✽Pairing - OT7 x reader (DJ) and OT7 x Lily

✽Word Count - 7.8k

✽Ratings - 18+

✽Genre(s) - Mafia Au, Angst , Fluff, mentions of smut.

✽Trigger Warnings - Mentions of Death, Mentions of Trauma , minor alcohol consumption, mentions of torture and shootouts and mentions of bloodshed, Mentions of Drugs, Attempted Murder, A little manipulative behavior, A shootout, a lot of cursing, There is a little bit of torture in here so please please avoid this if this triggers you in any way.

✽Summary - You’ve been lurking in the shadows, protecting the seven of Bangtan even if it means you must give your own life. After all, that’s what you do when you are in love with someone irrevocably. That pain seems to be minuscule in light of their safety. But it was never about you, for all you are is a speck of dust in the universe they have created for them and their girlfriend. Your heart’s at war, but it’s fine, you can smile through the pain as long as it means they smile- for her.

✽A/N : Hello Everyone! I apologise I couldn't post the last time due to some circumstances and I literally couldn't find any time to get on Tumblr after the post. The 9th part is here now, And I hope you guys like it, And also my apologies if you find the writing a little over the place, Ive been in a slump with writing since a year and this is my honest attempt to get out of it. I would love it if you let me know what you think about it.

✽Taglist: @brimal @2ne1unni @shatzkrinslinzki @zae007live, @gukieater @tinyoonsblog @skylievin @2ne1unni @lovelgirl22 @euphakid @embrace-themagic @didi-9310 @loisje123 @iamhereforbts @silscintilla @2ne1unni @rp171198 @aboredboredboreduniverse @blaaiissee @top-crop @sa7kou @chhungi-bawihtlung @aquariushoesss @definitelythinkimanalien

7mer @babycoffeefire @emoskytime8 @hob3yw0rld@motivatedprocastinator @speedyqueendaze @sugajinny @thereaderwholovesyou @btspurplesky @skz-jeha @theestrangeddreamer @success1009 @militrybarbi @afangirllikeme-blog @celestialentitiesss @daydreambrliever @bibebts @dreamamubarak @kimsaerom @sa7kou @veronawrites @bt21chim @cutiepat @jooniebub @shadowyjellyfishfest @mageprincess7 @jiminbolala @impossibilitydesign @xtayxx @ cherryluvhobi @knjsbae @intoomanyfandoms15 @foreverddaeng

✽Part Eight - Here

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You chuckled at hearing a gasp from the Bratva’s side, Your request was very unusual for him. You knew that. You were sure he wouldn't be able to fathom why exactly you wanted Zakharov to visit you in Korea.

“Bratva, we will speak when you get here. Right now all I am requesting is your presence here. Rest assured, This is going to be one hell of a trip.” Bratva obliged your request right away without questioning further. You looked at the men standing in the room looking at you with an expression that spelled curiosity all over their faces.

“They have agreed to come, Bratva will let me know sometime tomorrow when exactly they can come.”

“You're in for a treat.” Borris looks at Jimin helplessly when he hears Jimin mock him. You shrug your shoulders when Borris looks at you expecting him to help him. He should have thought of that before they plotted against you and the Bangtan men. These were nothing but consequences of their actions.

If they didn't feel bad before using and treating you as a scapegoat, Then why the hell should you?

“What do we do now?” You take a moment to answer Taehyung’s question. How were you supposed to go from here?

“Let's move him to my house, Mikhail will be taken care of by my men.” Nobody speaks up against your decision, Except for Borris. Who of course has a lot of comments to make. You ignore the pleas of the man and ask your men to take him to your house. You needed to keep a strict eye on the man lest there should be any other unexpected events. Should there be one?

It takes a little while after a screaming Borris is escorted out of the room, You take a minute to calm down. The way Borris kept screaming gave you a headache and you really didn't want to hear the voice of that man for some time. You needed some silence.

You sit in the room with the other men who seemed too quiet, Nobody spoke anything. They were all just sitting there. Some look at their hands entwined in their laps, The others look at the furniture in the room as if it were in some museum. These feelings sometimes were so difficult to express, That you had no idea what to do about it. You all had been played, and manipulated by Lily. And right now neither you nor the boys knew where you would go from here. “It's getting late, We should leave.” Everyone looked at Namjoon with somewhat of an expression of relief, The awkward atmosphere was getting too much to bear.

“I don't want to be anywhere near Lily right now.” Everyone seemed to agree with Yoongi. You looked at the seven men with a puzzled expression. Lily did not know they knew, And you did not have the slightest clue yourself of how the boys were going to face her, Let alone you.

“I think me and Namjoon will go to our house with Lily, The rest of you stay with DJ at her place.” Namjoon gave Jin a questioning look but did not speak. The older male seemed to gesture at something which did not make him question anything anymore.

“Boss, do you want us to come with you?”

“No, I guess let's call it a day. You guys have had enough for today as well.” The two men nodded and left first. You bid farewell to the two men who left for their house. You could feel the tension thick in the air but there was very little that you could do about it. You had no words to express the pain that you yourself felt when you saw the pain on the seven men's faces. They were feeling so many things at the same time, Yet there was barely anything that these men could do about it.

“Namjoon..” You pulled Namjoon into a hug when he looked back the moment you called him. His hands tightened around your waist and you just wished he could feel what you wanted to convey.

“It will be alright.” You feel his head nodding in a yes, You take a deep breath inhaling his scent, Which provides a sense of comfort. You let him go after a second, He gave you a weak smile and proceeded towards his car. You followed the five men to your respective cars to leave for your house.

The house seemed dead silent when both Jin and Namjoon walked in, The men wordlessly walked towards Lily’s room. She was still sleeping peacefully and totally unaware of her surroundings.

Jin took a seat near her and switched on the lights on the light side. The dimly lit room hid their tears very well. The soft light illuminated only the face of the woman they had come to love all these years, They couldn't have thought in their wildest dreams of the dark secret the woman was hiding.

Namjoon stroked Lily’s head softly, His fingers caressing her forehead in a way where a little force could break her. He let out a sigh and looked at Jin who had an equally gloomy expression on his face. The two men spent a good minute just looking at Lily, who looked like she was having the best sleep after a hard working day.

“You remember the first day we met her? She looked like she was seconds away from ripping your hair out?” Namjoon chuckled at that fond memory. For the first time ever in his life, he had someone walk up to him and yell at him. With every word she spoke, Namjoon kept controlling his laughter which ultimately came off the minute she took a pause. She still remembered the bewildered expression that came over Lily’s face when she saw them laughing his head off. The smile that came on her face after snatching his breath instantly threw him out of the laughing fit. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed too was enough to have him swooning.

“I remember it clearly just like it happened yesterday. That smile was lethal.” Jin let out a small laugh at Namjoon’s mention, His first memory of Lily resembling something of Namjoon. He still remembered the way he had dragged Namjoon to see who she was.

“Who knew she was hiding so many things.”

“Never knew she could do something like this to us.” Namjoon withdraws his hands and stands up making his way to the window, The dark night looks better than the darkness inside him. His brain wanted to kill the woman who had used him and was probably very close to betraying him. But his heart kept refuting everything he had heard. Namjoon let out a frustrated scream and punched his hand on the window hard, shattering the glass into pieces.

“Are you fucking out of your mind? Show me.” Jin looked at the younger’s hand in pure despair, The shards of glass sticking to his knuckles made him bleed profusely.

“I will kill you if you do that shit again, il back in a second.” Jin rushed out of the bedroom to bring the first aid kit while Namjoon dejectedly took a seat on the chair placed right in front of Lily.

Jin froze in his steps and Namjoon suddenly stopped him with his hand. He got up and knelt down in front of Lily who was letting out small groans. She was waking up. Jin pulled Namjoon back and made him sit.

“I don't care if she is waking up, Sit down. Let's have a look at this first.” Jin’s stern expression got Namjoon sitting down like a small kid who was threatened with being grounded. Jin let small curses when Namjoon winced in pain and right at that moment he was thankful that he had the rest of them by his side. At Least they weren't going anywhere. They would always be by his side.

“DJ….” Jin paused his administration on Namjoon’s hand the second he heard your name, Really? She had the audacity to set you up and then utter your name like you were in some kind of distress. Namjoon tried getting up but Jin’s strong grip on his thighs didn't allow him to do so.

“Funny isn't it, How she is the one who was setting up DJ, and hers is the first name she took when she's waking up.” Jin's grip didn't allow Namjoon to budge. The man could be as stubborn as a mule and nobody could do anything about it.

“I wonder what she remembers.” Namjoon quickly shushed him, pointing a finger at the woman. Jin and Namjoon concentrated on the woman's movements which kept getting more restless and your name which kept coming out of her mouth like a mantra. Her movements signaled the men that she would be waking up any minute.

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

“Namjoon.--

“Don't wake up, Just lay back down.” Namjoon placed her head back on the pillow, While Jin ran to fetch a glass of water.

“Where is Dj?” Namjoon placed his finger on her lips trying his best to not shake her up and slap her for what she tried to do.

“She's safe. You should get some rest.” He stroked her forehead and the woman fell back asleep. Jin gently held her head and helped her drink some water. Even before she could take two sips Jin popped the question he had been dying to ask her, What did she remember? The water spluttered out of Lily’s mouth and she began coughing violently. Namjoon gave a stern look to Jin while he rubbed her back, Jin just gave a blank expression. Maybe he knew what was about to go down. His mind wanted to see the extent she would lie, but his heart secretly wished that somehow magically she wouldn't have anything to do with all this.

Lily’s huge sobs brought Jin out of his thoughts and the little hope that was peeking its head inside his heart went away in an instant.

“He had his gun here, Right on my head.”Lily wept in Namjoon’s arms and the latter just stopped himself from giving her a piece of his mind.

“Sweetie, did you know who they were? Why were they after you?”

“I don't remember anything, They hit me so hard on the head. Maybe they wanted to hurt you guys and meant to use me like a pawn.” Jin clenched his teeth in rage, Really is this how this woman had been lying to their face all these years? What else had she lied about?

“Namjoon, Jin. I am too tired and weak right now. I want to sleep.” The two men placed her head on the pillow back again and pulled the comforter on her.

“Sleep here with me please, I don't want to be alone.” The two men obliged unwillingly, What could they have given to not be there with her right now. For the first time ever, They did not want to be there by her side. They had the urge to run miles away from her, But there was so much to know and so much left to unveil, They had to play along.

Lily relaxed a little after she had the two men sleeping next to her side, She snuggled into Namjoons chest and prayed silently that everything was right at the place that it was supposed to be. For the life of her, she couldn't remember a single thing no matter what. While she decided to rest and hope that everything was fine, the two men stayed awake next to her, hating every second of it. This was going to be one hell of a long night.

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

You sat in front of the two men that had been locked in the basement, Your men stood guard outside ready to blow the heads of the two captive men if they tried something. Mikhail kept drifting in and out of consciousness while Borris sat terrified and roped to the chair. His eyes kept moving towards Mikhail and the fear of having the same fate as him and that fear in his eyes gave you a sick level of satisfaction.

“Why can't you just let us go?” You did not dignify Borris’s question with an answer, You were not even sure anymore what were you even supposed to say to him? These guys came into your life from nowhere and turned it worse than up and down, for their own selfish needs. Tried to pawn you off like you belonged to them or some toy that they had bought. Lily should be thankful you still had not laid your hands on her.

“Will you say something?” Borris bought his voice several notches down, Still not sure of what you would do lest he pissed you off. Mikhail was right next to me, probably wishing he was dead.

“If I hear one more word out of your mouth, Those worms from his thigh will be in your eyes.” Borris shrieked loud enough to induce another headache, One movement of your leg was enough to have the man apologizing profusely.

You kept sitting in front of the two men, This time in peace. The entire day kept flashing in front of you like a film, The one you wouldn't even want to have a dream of. You had to plan ahead, Starting from Choi first. The bastard had answers to give.

“You had a long day, You should get some sleep.” You turn around to see Yoongi leaning on the door, His arms crossed and a blank expression on his face.

“So did you.”

“Just get up already, It's getting late.” You do not argue with him and get up and start walking with him. You had no energy whatsoever to have another argument with anyone.

The men had taken their picks from their room as soon as they had walked inside your house, Nobody said anything. You didn't either. Everyone needed some silence to reflect on what they had gone through that day. You had walked straight to the basement to check the captive rats in your house.

You and Yoongi just kept walking up the stairs, An inexpressible silence engulfing both of you. Maybe you just didn't need words, You didn't know for him but somehow deep down inside you were glad that you were not alone. “Mind if I stay here tonight?” Your hands paused for a fraction of a second before you silently nodded and the man followed you inside.

“Make yourself comfortable, I'll just wash up.” You didn't wait for his reply as you went towards your bathroom and the said man made himself comfortable on the right side of the bed.

“Can't sleep?”

“Yoongi?” You touched his shoulder lightly to which he flinched, You stepped back in surprise and placed your hands in the front where he could see them. He had to be too deep in thought for a light touch to be startling him like that.

“I'm sorry, I'm just….”

“No it's okay, I mean are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay—-

“Are you really?”

“No, I'm not. Hell, I'm not remotely okay. What the hell happened today?”

“I know its a lot to take in—-

“We loved her, you know? Like really really loved her. I don't think I've loved any other woman as much as I have loved her.” Your heart broke at the way he was speaking about Lily with so much pain. All of you were in the same boat, to be honest, You loved Bangtan, Bangtan loved Lily, Lily loved Borris and she didn't give two fucks about who she hurt in the process.

You were all part of a terrible terrible mess, And none of you could do anything about it. “Trust me, I understand how you all must be feeling right now.” Yoongi was visibly at a loss of words, You could see that. You quickly mumbled a quick sorry and switched off the lights to avoid any kind of awkward atmosphere. You had enough of it already.

“DJ…….”

“Hmm?”

“I am sorry.”

“What for?”

“I know we didn't know, And we couldn't help how you felt. But now I truly know how it feels when that person you love is not yours.” A tear rolled down your eyes, Though the scenarios were entirely different, but just him at that moment acknowledging that feeling gave you a different strength. They were not at fault, But just the mere thought of someone deeply understanding how and what you've been through healed something. Maybe you were being selfish, But at that moment you didn't give a damn about anything.

You stayed in the same position facing away from the wall and Yoongi sat up, Leaning on the headboard. None of you said anything anymore. There was a very scarce chance that you would have gotten any sleep considering the way the day had unfolded. You made a feeble attempt to convince yourself that the lack of sleep came from the day you had, And had nothing to do with the man beside you who was already deeply heartbroken.

You turned towards Yoongi, unable to resist the temptation. A part of you just wanted to pull him in a hug and hold him tight enough to make his pain disappear. Your heart broke into a million pieces looking at Yoongi staring at the wall with a blank expression on his face.

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts, but Yoongi still remained the same. It looked like he didn't even hear it. You touch his hand lightly but upon receiving no response you let the man be and decide to open the door yourself.

“Can I sleep here?” You make way for Taehyung, who stills for a second when he sees Yoongi on the bed. He quietly sleeps in the middle and places Yoongi’s hand on his chest. Yoongi looks at the younger male in surprise but does not react. You stand still for a minute looking at the scene in front of you. How you wish you had Jeh here. Just his being there made everything so much better.

“Are you going to sleep or what?”

“Yeah I was going to—-

“Then come.”

Taehyung’s hand snaked around your waist and you felt a strange sense of comfort. It was kind of a day where you wouldn't choose to be alone. You closed your eyes waiting for sleep to overcome everything you had been through today. You drifted off to light sleep, You ignored any moment that somehow kept happening beside you, Some sleep was all you wanted.

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You opened your eyes to the biggest surprise you had in some time. You could call it a good surprise but it was still a surprise. You were three people when you had slept but you were now waking up to a total of six of them excluding you in your bed. You did not have even the slightest clue when Jimin, Hobi, Jungkook had joined Yoongi, Taehyung, and you on your bed that was meant for two, a Maximum of three and a half.

You carefully crept out of the bed, making sure not to make any noise because you had no idea when these men had managed to have some sleep. You walked down the steps making up your mind about if you should have woken those guys or if you should just leave them sleeping. You decide the latter and start thinking of the strongest coffee that you would need to make to help with your day better.

You had already made up your mind about half of the things that you had to do today, Choi was on top of it. You could swear you would make him regret coming behind you.

You park your car in the private parking in the public administrator's building that Choi’s office was in. You make your way to the private entrance of the building which was specifically reserved for the VIP’s visiting the officials. The offices were quite exquisite considering they had special arrangements for the VIPs who didn't want to be seen when they visited the premises and every one of them had a special access card that let them access the building when they needed to.

You take the elevator and land on the floor Choi was located on, The waiting area was absolutely empty apart from the reception.

“Hi, Do you have an appointment?”

“No, But Mr.Choi knows me. Can you inform him of my presence?” The receptionist gauges your calm and collected face for a second and picks up the receiver. You were in half mind if the bastard would see you upon unannounced notice but you had other ways as well.

“I'm sorry but he is a little occupied at the moment, I can pencil you down for some time this week?” You laughed at the weak attempt he made to avoid you.

“Is he now? Don't worry, that won't be necessary. He will see me in a minute” You send the picture that you had clicked of Mikhail on your phone and look at the camera with a smirk, You knew he was watching you. Ten seconds later the telephone rings and the puzzled receptionist guides you into his office.

“What the hell do you want, I don't know this man?” You laugh at the way the old man didn't bother giving it a minute, You walk towards the couch he was sitting on with a smile that was calm enough to boil his blood.

“I didn't ask you anything old man, Why don't you give it a minute?”

“DJ, don't think you can fool me with your antics, I'm not bothered.” You let out a laugh listening to his statement, Really? And yet he had let you see him within ten seconds. Ten seconds was all it took you to break that disgusting piece of shit.

“Okay let me take this picture to the circle then, Let them decide.” You get up and walk towards the door sure of the thing that this time was not your exit, The bastard had too much on the line.

“Wait—-

“You remember now?”

“Just come back here.”

“Don't leave out a thing, Or else this man is going to be the reason why you will see your own end.”

“He came here because he wanted revenge because you wiped out his family.”

“And”

“I gave him an idea that he should take down everything you love before you die, And that includes Bangtan.” Now this rang an alarm in your head, Why? Why would he want to go after Bangtan?

“And how did you get in touch with him?”

“You think only you know the people in the Russian mob? I knew it from the day you bought his father here, I tracked him down and led him here indirectly and when he was here I just helped him figure out the details. Since we had the same motives he readily obliged.” You were stunned by the information that the old man had just blurted out, You were still puzzled by how he had planned to use something that didn't involve him in the first place.

“Why Bangtan?”

“I wanted them all gone.”

“Why?”

“Senior Jung was considering Namjoon to be the head of the circle.” Now this was something that you had no information about. The thought of Choi doing something like this only to eliminate the Bangtan because one of them was supposed to be the next head. You swore you would show him the consequences of it.

“You did all this because you wanted that position for—

“My son.” He uttered the words rather feebly, Your expression darkened considerably, How stupid was this man that he had chosen to execute all this, and for what. The circle would anyways not have accepted his son, That brat was hopeless.

You were furious about everything that had been happening in your life, You wanted to bury Lily deep in thorns, This was all because of her, She put you in a mess that was a literal swamp, the more you tried to get out, the deeper you kept going.

You saw an expression of fear and confusion on Choi’s face. He didn't anticipate you reaching the root of his conspiracy, And probably wondered how you even managed to do this?

You kept pacing behind his couch, half in a mind to strangle this bastard and chop his head off. You decided the former is a better option. You quietly picked the tie hanging in his coat stand, while the poor guy kept trying to look back trying to gauge your next move.

“Next time I see you playing such dirty tricks on me or either of the men in Bangtan I will make sure you regret the day you were born.” The old man struggled for a breath as you tightened the tie around his neck. How you wished you could choke the life out of this scum.

“I swear I won't” The old man managed to speak a few words in a matter of few seconds, You threw the tie away in disgust and walked out before you ended up killing him for real.

You walk out of the Choi office in a mixed sea of emotions, Anger, despair, and sadness. Those emotions just kept coming back, They kept getting washed to the shore in intervals leaving you in confusion about the way to deal with them.

You kept driving through the roads aimlessly trying to get a hold of your thoughts, You had invited Bratva and Lily’s ex-husband to Korea, That mere thought of Lily’s face when she would see them gave you another wave of sick satisfaction. Even though you were involved in a business that was not legal, and was deeply rooted in blood and conspiracies you never derived any satisfaction that soothed you to the bones, But ever since you knew about Lily’s intentions and her lies there was an evil satisfaction that coursed through your veins.

The ringing of your phone brought you back to reality from your self-introspection. Seeing Bratva's name on the screen, You hurriedly park your car on the side and with a deep breath click on the answer.

“DJ” Bratva’s heavy voice booms through the speakers sending a little shiver down your spine even though there was no reason to.

“Bratva, How are you?”

“I am good, But something tells me you are not okay, doc.” You almost feel your tears trying to escape through your eyes but you try to keep them in. At that moment you miss Jeh. You had only him in your life who could just by looking at your face, Could tell something was wrong with you.

“Doch—

“Yeah Bratva, I am right here. Tell me”

“You tell me DJ, What has happened? Something doesn't feel right.”

“Before I tell you what has happened, You will be coming to Korea right?”

“Of Course, we are, What makes you think that I won't come if you call me? We will be there in a week, Zakharov is a little occupied right now. But we will be there for sure.” You smile at the remark reminiscing how you and Bratva had met versus the fondness in his voice right now.

“That's not a problem Bratva, I don't want to inconvenience you in any way— “That's nonsense, Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You narrate the entire event from the time you got back from Russia to Bratva and he listens to you with a stoic expression. The only way you can make the anger emanating from him is the stiffness of his expression and the clenching of his jaw.

“That bitch”

“I swear—

“I swear I will kill her when I lay my hands on her—

“Bratva, There is no joy in killing her, I have better plans for her.”

“You mean?” You chuckle at the way Bratva’s face lights up when you say you have a special plan for her, You always felt that this particular idea of putting someone in deep suffering would be ten times gruesome than killing the person and giving them an easy way out, And it was time that Lily tasted this special expertise of yours.

“Bratva, Let me get back to you for the details but for now know that she is in for a treat.” You hear Bratva’s booming laugh and that breaks a smile on your face.

She was indeed in for a treat.

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You open the door cautiously to your home and are immediately greeted by the loud voices in the living room. You could tell from a distance that all seven of them were present in your home right now. You stop at the door and contemplate for a minute whether you should go inside, But then you drive the idea away, This was your fucking house.

The confusion was about your equation with the men of Bangtan, This was evolving with the speed of light. One day you were mere acquaintances, The next you were supposedly dating, The next you were friends, and now? That was a question you had no answer to.

The room quietens a bit when you enter the room. The sounds that you had been hearing somewhat gave you a hint that they were being joyous about something.

“Did I miss something?”

“DJ you won't believe what has happened.” Taehyung pulls you right into the middle of the room and in extremely close proximity to Namjoon, Who you were sure was the source of the good news because the smile on his face was something different than usual.

You were happy and a little relieved to see the boys joyous, Considering how their hearts had been broken and shattered yesterday.

“What happened?’’

“Well Namjoon is the new head of the circle, And that too starting next week. Can you even believe that?” You were genuinely happy for him, Namjoon truly deserved to be the next head, At Least with him being the decision maker, You could breathe in a sigh of relief some of the old traditions needed to be sent packing. With Namjoon, You were sure he would be doing great.

“Congratulations Namjooon, I am so happy for you.” You see a faint dimple appearing on his cheeks right before you experience another shock, He pulls you right into a hug and mumbles a thank you in your hair, You literally felt every syllable of it.

You lose track of how fast your heart starts beating once the woody scent of his perfume engulfs you in its serenity. You remain in his hold for a second, when you pull yourself out of his hold before you lose yourself.

“It's good to see you guys happy.” The boys visibly tense at your remarks but their expressions remain a little on the softer side.

“It's not like we have an option.”

“Forget that, I think we should go out for dinner or something, I am still sick from yesterday.”

“And—--

“She doesn't need to know, DJ dress up. We leave in fifteen, Max twenty.”

“Wait—--

“Dress up please” Jimin pushes you towards the stairs and you give up on your effort to ask them about Lily. It was definitely strange the way Namjooon said she didn't need to know.

You stand under the shower thinking about everything again and suddenly an idea lights up your face. Namjoon had one week before he had to begin as the head of the circle, And there was also one week before Bratva and Zakharov arrived in Korea. A party would be the perfect opportunity to introduce the two parties to each other, And it would also be a perfect opportunity to stand by and watch the magic unfold.

You hum a happy song walk out of the shower in your towel and stand in front of the mirror before you can spritz some perfume the door to your room bursts open and Jimin and Jungkook come barreling in, You stand shocked to see the two men rooted to their spots with their eyes open.

You clear your throat and gesture towards the door but it looks like it barely registered with them.

“Out, The door is right behind you.” You try to speak a little louder, hopeful of getting through to them, And before you know it the guys scramble out of the room. You would have to double-check if you locked your room the next time.

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“I wanted to speak to you guys about something.” The boys pause their talks and divert their attention to you. You glance around before you begin to make sure you have everybody’s attention.

“I want to throw a party–

“For? The way all of us have gotten fooled, For that?” You throw a stern glance at Yoongi who surprisingly stays quiet and motions you to go ahead.

“I want to throw a party for Namjoon. He's the new head of the circle and it's a perfect occasion to celebrate.”

“DJ, That is not really req—-

“I am going to invite Bratva and Zakharov to that party too.”

“I'll help with the guest list.” You are quite surprised with the fact that Yoongi and Hobi said that at once, You feel relieved to have the confirmation, Now you are free to plan the party and Lily’s downfall at the same time.

“I would like to see her face. That lying— Taehyung stops himself from uttering the next word. You could clearly see the pain on his face, But there was very little that you could do.

The dinner passes by in a jiffy, considering the excitement the guys had earlier had died down considerably after you mentioned the party and the special guests. But what had to be done, Had to be done. There was no choice.

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A loud banging on your door jolts you awake, You rush to the door fearing the worst consequences when The six guys excluding Jin come rushing into your room, You stand at the door with your eyes and mouth wide open wondering about the reason for this rushed visit.

“She's here, She here.” Jimin points at the door, And for you, it takes a second to register who she is.

“But why are you hiding?”

“We don't want to face her, Not right now.” The panic in the guy's faces tells you that this is not the time to reason with them.

“Alright, Let me close the door.” But before you could close the door, Lily comes barging in, and before you could say anything she pulls you in for a hug.

“I have been so worried about you, Where were you, DJ? I was so worried they did something with you.” The grip that she had been tightening on you was suffocating you to no end, Her lies just didn't seem to end.

“She's fine, Don't worry.” Lily looked at Hobi with a shocked expression, It was evident that she didn't expect this reaction out of him. You clear your throat at the intervention and move behind Hobi to keep a safe distance from her. You could totally understand why the boys were running away from her, Only you knew how you were resisting the urge to strangle her right there.

“I am fine Lily, Don't worry. They didn't do anything to me. In fact, I was worried about you.”

You could see an uncomfortable expression surfacing on Lily's face but she hides it like a pro. You look at the guys who keep making weird attempts to avoid her by looking everywhere in the room except Lily herself.

“Where were you all?”

“We, We have been a little busy.”

“Yeah, He's right. We were busy, In fact very busy.” Taehyung tries to make it sound as if what he is saying is super important but his attempts just go in vain. The poor guy couldn't lie to save his life.

“Tae, are you trying to lie to me?”

“Actually they're all really worried about us.” You quickly jump in to save Taehyung and the only way you could do that was by turning the tables.

“Us?”

“We are—?” You throw a stern look at Namjoon, Which ends up working on Yoongi too. You could see he was about to say something.

“Yeah, So what I was saying was, You know how you were kidnapped? I mean both of us were kidnapped? They're wondering who did it, you know? And what could be the intention behind the kidnapping? “ You feel the same satisfaction when you feel Lily tensing after every question, It has definitely worked.

“You don't need to worry you guys, I am fine. Absolutely fine.” Lily tries stepping back to make an exit, But you step right behind her and block her way. You were not done with her yet.

“Do you remember anything from that day Lily?” You feel Lily tensing up even more, The fun is about to begin.

“I—---

“Try to remember Lily, The guys are really worried about you–

“And you.”

“Sorry?”

“We were worried about you both, I meant.”

“So Lily, Babe, do you remember anything at all? Try to remember.” Jungkoook steals Lily from you places a hand on her shoulder and begins walking to the other guys. Turn by turn Lily passed around like a little doll, And you could see the way she was feeling deeply uncomfortable. A few minutes into the sweet interrogation, She would be sure to sweat.

“Namjoon, Baby I am not feeling too well. Can you take me home?”

“Actually baby, Jimin and Taehyung will take you home. I have a meeting.”

“Hyung—

“Take Jungkook with you.”

“Hyung,” It was Jungkook's turn to whine, Lily looked at them with a very confused expression. This probably was the first time when the guys must have been avoiding taking her home. Generally from what you saw, It was actually the opposite.

“Go please.” Namjoons stern voice drives the four of them out of the room in a jiffy, You breathe a sigh of relief. The stress that these few minutes had brought was immense.

“Close the door please.”

“Sure” You close the door with a confused expression, "They were going to be sleeping here too?

“That's my side, Pick somewhere else.” The way Yoongi pushed Hobi, brought a smile on both your and Namjoon's faces.

“I will sleep here, I mean Sit here.” Namjoon points towards the sofa on your right and you nod in a yes. You take your place on the bed and the rest of them settle on the bed.

“Where’s Jin?” You ask, Remembering that you had not seen him after dinner.

“He's gone for a drive, He ran away the minute he saw Lily coming. You laugh the way Hobi scowls, You turn off the lights, and the minute your head hits the pillow you feel sleep taking over you in a minute.

You wake up with some light ruffling on the side, You turn on the lights to see Jin trying to make some space on the bed, The way he was mumbling something clearly indicated that he was drunk. There were multiple bedrooms in the house and all these men could find was your room.

“Jin–

Your eyes widen when Jin stumbles to your side and kisses the top of your head. Good night, It takes him a few stumbles to reach back to the spot he made for himself. He sleeps on his stomach and passes out faster than a second.

You take a look at Namjoon who was fast asleep, But in an awkward position. You quickly bring the spare pillow adjust his head and decide to go back to sleep. It was indeed a long night.

You had enough time for planning a party, You started with the major things by scheduling details for Bratva’s travel. They had agreed to be in Korea the following week. The guys keep staying at your place and absolutely refuse to return to their homes. Lily without a doubt kept herself occupied, Your guess was probably she was trying to figure out the whereabouts of her boyfriend.

The boys kept waiting for the day when Lily and the special guests would arrive. You kept yourself busy with your work, Party arrangements, and some last-minute deliveries.

The guys kept hovering around you for one reason or the other, From receiving zero attention from them to having their attention on yourself was overwhelming, to say the least, And you definitely had a problem with the fact that the attention doubled in front of Lily, It sometimes looked like they were doing it on purpose. But you avoided saying anything to them because given what was going on from the past couple of days, You didn't want to create any more drama.

You tried keeping yourself as away as you could from the cold war that was happening, Lily sometimes tried to stay over and it would end up with everyone in your room.

You decided to ignore everything for the time being, Your sole focus was making the party a huge hit, One for establishing a good image for Namjoon, And mainly was the grand reveal.

The only good thing that kept you sane was your calls with Marco and Jeh. Though Jeh was still unconscious you still made it a point to talk to him at least thrice a day. Marco made sure he let you vent your heart out, You had no idea how you could ever thank god for these two.

While it was long back that Marco and Jeh had been in Malaga, all of that felt like it was yesterday.

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You walked around the hall greeting and speaking to guests with Namjoon, You had felt weird that Namjoon had asked you to be at his side at all times. You didn't say anything considering that it was a big day for him today.

Lily kept greeting the other guests alone, you were sure it might have raised eyebrows but that was not something you were going to bother yourself with. You kept looking at your phone to check if Bratva and Zakharov had landed, You received a text message indicating that they had arrived safely, You felt your nerves starting to explode, The excitement, anxiety, and stress of everything had you gulping down flutes of champagne.

“You okay?” Namjoon asked as you finished your flute, You looked at him once and once at the door. There still wasn't any sign of the arrival of the guests.

“It's just the nerves.”

“Don't worry everything will be fine.” Namjoon holds your hand in a tight grip and that somewhat soothes the anxiety inside you.

You keep greeting the guests as they come, and when the beep sounds on your phone you breathe a sigh of relief, Bratva and Zakharov were here, And so were Mikhail and Borris. You had gotten both of them intentionally there, That was a twist you decided to throw in at the last minute. This was going to be epic.

Mikhail was obviously still in bad shape but you had made sure that he had been accommodated well in a wheelchair, And he was kept conscious deliberately to see how bad he had failed.

You kept doing rounds and once you were sure that all the invited people had arrived, You checked your phone for the latest update, And you saw a message from Jin. He had already taken Bratva and Zakharov with them backstage, Mikhail and Borris would be making a grand appearance with them.

The guys made sure Lily was with them once Bratva arrived, And turn by turn the guys wished you and Namjoon good luck.

You walk with Namjoon on the stage and take the mic to greet everyone, You and Namjoon keep arguing over who would introduce the special guests, But Namjoon ends up winning because apparently his vote came with seven other votes that refused to listen to anything.

You saw the crowd waiting with a smile, It was finally happening. The nerves had calmed down considerably and you were more than okay to witness the spectacle.

“Hello Everyone! Thank You so much for attending today’s party, I am sure each one of you knows how much it means to us. It sure is a big day for Namjoon, Who is about to begin a wonderful tenure as the head of our circle. It is my greatest pleasure to be greeting you all and also host this special occasion. “ you ended the short note with a formal address to the crowd. You handed the mic to Namjoon who thanked everyone who attended the party. He held your hand when he was about to finish his speech, Indicating it was time.

“Now Ladies And Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to our very special guests who have arrived here from Russia specially on our invitation. Please give it up for our very dear Bratva and Vladimir Zakharov and their friends Mikhail and Borris.”

The color drained from Lily’s face visibly and in a fraction of a second, you saw fear flashing on her face. You and Namjoon walked down from the dice, Yoongi and Hobi made sure that there was no way Lily escaped from their grip, Even though she tried hard to make excuses they didn't budge saying they had to introduce her to the special guests.

“Bratva, this is the other members of Bangtan, This is Yoongi, Taehyung, Hobi, Jimin, Jungkook, Jin and this is the most special member of the group, Lily.” The guys one by one exchanged pleasantries with Bratva and Zakharov, While Lily tried to maintain her composure the sweat on her forehead and the constant effort to free her hand from Yoongi said otherwise. Her expression changed drastically after Zakharov turned to her and took her other hand to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

“Hello Ms.Lily, Or should I say My wife?”

236 notes · View notes

kittenan2 · 1 month ago

Note

Hey Babes!

Absolutely adore your work! It’s always a treat to get the tag alert for the absolute meals you’ve been serving. I’ve got this idea that’s been haunting me since I dove headfirst into BTS.

MafiaBoss!Yoongi x Y/N x BodyGuard!Namjoon

(It’s giving childhood friends who have the same taste in partners vibes).

Rival Mafia Bosses!Yoongi x Y/N x MafiaBoss!Namjoon

(Both vying for Y/N’s attention only to be told “Both, Im not choosing between you two.”)

And in this both cases there are no objections to boyfriends being boyfriends. (They def compete a little at first but find qualities they admire in each other).

Kings of Ash and Desire

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Yoongi x Reader x BodyGuard!Namjoon Tags: Mafia AU, polyamory, possessiveness, jealousy, smut, praise x degradation, voyeurism, aftercare, gunplay (consensual, brief), dark romance, explicit content Warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, violence, power dynamics, dub-con elements (handled with clear consent), overstimulation, emotionally intense. Word Count: ~4k Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY, Minors DNI) A/n: If you don't like the idea of multiple partners, poly au, polyamory relationships then DNI. I have already mentioned in warnings and Genre.

The city’s neon veins pulse beyond the tinted windows of Yoongi’s black SUV, but inside, silence chokes the air. You clutch your bag’s strap in the backseat, heart pounding. Your father’s voice haunts you: “They’ll keep you safe. You don’t understand the debt we owe.” A rival gang’s threat—blood promised for unpaid dues—has tethered you to Min Yoongi, the mafia kingpin who rules this city like a shadowed deity. Namjoon, his head of security and lifelong confidant, drives with a soldier’s precision, his eyes occasionally meeting yours in the rearview mirror, warm but unreadable.

Yoongi, in the passenger seat, hasn’t acknowledged you since you were hustled into the car an hour ago. His black coat and sharp profile scream power, but his coldness is a blade. Namjoon breaks the silence as the SUV glides into an underground garage. “We’re here,” he says, voice steady. Yoongi exits without a word, his presence a storm vanishing into the elevator.

Namjoon opens your door, offering a hand. “Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs, his calloused fingers grounding you. “He’s… focused.” His touch lingers, sending a jolt through you, and you nod, though Yoongi’s distance stings. The penthouse they lead you to is a fortress of wealth: marble floors, crystal chandeliers, a cityscape view that feels like a taunt.

“Training starts tomorrow,” Namjoon says, showing you to a guest room with silk sheets and floor-to-ceiling windows. “Self-defense. You need to be ready.” His gaze holds yours, a flicker of concern breaking his stoic mask before he turns away. Alone, you collapse onto the bed, pulse racing. You’re a diplomat’s daughter, out of your depth, yet Namjoon’s steady grip and Yoongi’s silent intensity linger in your mind, dangerous and magnetic.

Morning brings Namjoon to a private gym, all sleek equipment and mirrored walls. He’s patient but firm, adjusting your stance, his hands brushing your hips, your shoulders. “Guard up,” he murmurs, breath warm against your ear. His fingers linger, and your pulse spikes, heat pooling low. You’re not imagining the tension—it’s in his tightened grip, the way his eyes darken when you land a punch.

Yoongi watches from the doorway, unnoticed at first, his presence a gathering storm. When you catch his stare, it’s unreadable, but it pins you. He vanishes without a word, leaving a chill. Namjoon clears his throat, stepping back.

“Good work. Same time tomorrow.”

That afternoon, you’re exploring the penthouse when a crash echoes from the garage below. Curiosity pulls you to a balcony overlooking the space. Yoongi’s there, barking orders as his men unload crates—guns, you realize, glinting under fluorescent lights.

A rival’s graffiti mars one crate, a taunt. Yoongi draws a pistol, his movements fluid, and fires a single shot into the crate’s lock, splintering it. The precision, the danger, makes your breath catch. He glances up, catching you watching, and his smirk is a challenge before he turns away. Your heart races, fear and fascination warring.

That night, you overhear Namjoon and Yoongi in the lounge, their voices low, sharp. Hiding behind the door, you listen as Namjoon pours whiskey, Yoongi leaning against the bar. “She’s got fire,” Namjoon says, swirling his glass. “Not like the others.”

Yoongi snorts, but it’s soft, almost fond. “Same as always, Joon. You see it, I see it. That spark. Just like…” He stops, and Namjoon nods, a shared ghost between them. “We always did fall for the dangerous ones,” Yoongi adds, voice wistful.

Your cheeks burn. They’re talking about you—wanting you. The forbidden thrill sends heat curling through you, and you slip away, mind reeling.

Days blur into a tense rhythm. Namjoon’s morning coffees become a ritual, his dimpled smile softening the penthouse’s edges. He teaches you to disarm an opponent, his body pressed close as he guides your movements, his praise—“You’re a natural”—warming you. Yoongi, meanwhile, leaves gifts: a diamond necklace on your pillow, a velvet box with a single rose. They’re possessive, like he’s marking you, but he rarely speaks, his silence a wall.

One evening, you’re practicing knife throws in the gym when Namjoon gets a call. His face hardens, and he steps outside. Curiosity leads you to the hallway, where you catch his hushed voice: “Another hit on her family. They’re getting bolder.” Your stomach drops. The threat is real, closer than you thought. When Namjoon returns, he finds you frozen. “You heard,” he says, not a question. His hand cups your cheek, steadying you. “We won’t let them touch you.”

His touch is gentle, but his eyes burn, and you lean into him, craving the safety he offers. “I trust you,” you whisper, the words slipping out. His thumb brushes your lip, and for a moment, you think he’ll kiss you, but he pulls back, jaw tight. “Go rest,” he says, voice rough.

That night, your fantasies ignite. In bed, silk sheets cool against your skin, you imagine Namjoon’s hands, gentle but firm, kissing down your throat, whispering praise as he teases your nipples, his tongue soothing the ache. Yoongi’s sharper, pinning your wrists, his voice a growl as he drags his teeth along your thighs, his cock stretching you with deliberate slowness. Your fingers slip beneath your panties, circling your clit, slick and needy. You picture Namjoon’s tongue lapping at your core, Yoongi’s hand fisting your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze as you unravel. A whimper escapes, louder than intended, as your climax leaves you trembling, guilt and desire colliding.

The tension snaps a week later. Yoongi summons you to his office, the door clicking shut like a trap. He’s behind his desk, whiskey glass in hand, eyes glinting like obsidian. “You think Namjoon can protect you from me?” he says, voice low, dangerous.

You step closer, defiance flaring. “I don’t need protecting from you.”

His smirk is a dare. He rounds the desk, crowding you, knuckles grazing your cheek, his ring cold against your skin. “Brave little princess,” he murmurs, “but you’re playing with fire.” The air crackles, his scent—leather, whiskey—overwhelming.

The door opens, and Namjoon steps in, freezing. Yoongi’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t move. Namjoon’s eyes dart between you, jealousy flashing. “Everything okay?” he asks, voice tight.

“Perfect,” Yoongi drawls, stepping back. You feel the loss of his heat, but Namjoon’s gaze—protective, hungry—holds you. He nods and leaves, but the air hums with unresolved need.

That night, passing Yoongi’s office, you hear them arguing. “You’re not subtle, Yoongi,” Namjoon snaps. “The way you look at her—”

“Says the one jerking off to her every night,” Yoongi retorts, his voice a low, venomous hiss, sharp enough to cut through the smoky haze of the lounge. He leans back against the bar, whiskey glass dangling lazily from his fingers, but his eyes are predatory, glinting with a mix of accusation and smug satisfaction. “Don’t play saint, Joon. I hear you through those thin walls, groaning her name like a man possessed, fisting yourself to the thought of her spread out for you.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the crystal tumbler in his hand creaking under his tightening grip. He steps closer, his broad frame looming, voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “And you’re any better, Yoongi? Don’t think I miss the way you lock yourself in that office, panting like a dog in heat, her name slipping from your lips while you stroke yourself raw, imagining her on her knees for you.” His lips curl into a mocking smirk, eyes blazing with challenge. “You’re just as fucking obsessed, picturing her writhing under you, begging for it, those pretty lips wrapped around you, taking everything you give, aren’t you?”

Your heart lurches, a wild stutter in your chest, as their words sink in like a brand. Yoongi and Namjoon—both of them, consumed by you, their desires laid bare in that heated exchange you weren’t meant to hear. The rawness of it, their unguarded confessions of lust, sends a rush of heat pooling between your thighs, your core clenching involuntarily. Your breath catches, a soft gasp swallowed by the penthouse’s heavy silence. You step back, retreating down the dimly lit hallway, the marble floor cool beneath your bare feet, but their voices follow you like specters.

Yoongi’s voice slices through the darkness, low and deliberate, dripping with a dangerous edge. “Careful, princess. These walls are thin.” The pet name is a taunt, wrapping around you like silk laced with venom. You freeze mid-step, pulse hammering, as his words coil in your mind. He knows you were listening—knows you heard their hunger, their shared obsession. The thought of him catching you, those obsidian eyes pinning you from the shadows, sends a shiver racing down your spine, equal parts fear and thrill.

Namjoon steps into view, leaning casually against the hallway wall, his broad frame silhouetted by the faint glow of a sconce. His white shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to expose corded forearms, and the sight of him—steady, composed, yet simmering with something darker—makes your mouth dry. “We heard you,” he says, voice soft as velvet but weighted with intent. His eyes, usually warm, burn with a hunger that mirrors Yoongi’s, their intensity stripping you bare. The memory of your own breathless whimpers from last night, stifled against your pillow as you touched yourself to thoughts of them, floods back. They heard—every gasp, every shudder. Your cheeks flame, mortification warring with the reckless spark their gazes ignite.

You force your spine to straighten, meeting Namjoon’s stare, then glancing toward Yoongi, who’s emerged from the office, his black shirt half-untucked, a whiskey glass still in hand. Their predatory attention—Yoongi’s cold smirk, Namjoon’s heated scrutiny—should make you shrink, but instead, it stirs something defiant, something bold. “I wasn’t… hiding,” you say, voice steady despite the flush creeping down your neck, your skin prickling under their scrutiny. The lie is bold, but you lift your chin, refusing to cower. The air hums with tension, thick with unspoken desire, as if the hallway itself is holding its breath.

Namjoon’s lips twitch, the ghost of a smile, dimples barely forming before they’re gone. “Good to know,” he murmurs, his tone deceptively gentle, but the way his gaze lingers on your lips, your throat, betrays the storm beneath. Yoongi steps closer, his rings glinting as he tilts his head, studying you like prey. The scent of whiskey and leather clings to him, mingling with Namjoon’s clean, earthy musk, and the combination makes your head spin.

“Oh, princess,” Yoongi drawls, voice low and teasing, a wicked edge curling his lips, “you say that, but your pretty little whimpers beg to be caught.” His words are a taunt, daring you to admit the desire pulsing through you, his gaze flicking to your trembling hands as if he can see the heat pooling within.

You’re caught between them, the walls of this gilded cage closing in, yet the reckless fire in your chest burns brighter, urging you to step into their dangerous game.

The confrontation erupts days later in Yoongi’s office, the heavy oak door slamming shut with a thud that reverberates through your bones. The air is thick with the scent of polished mahogany, whiskey, and the faint metallic tang of ink, the room bathed in the dim amber glow of a single desk lamp. Namjoon’s voice is a low growl, accusing Yoongi of pushing you too hard, his broad shoulders tense under his fitted black shirt. Yoongi, leaning against his desk, snaps back, his voice sharp as a blade, whiskey glass glinting in his hand, the ice clinking softly. “She’s tougher than you think, Joon.” The argument spirals, their words slicing through the air, until you can’t take it anymore.

“Stop fighting over me like I’m a prize!” you shout, your voice echoing off the high ceilings, your chest heaving with frustration. The sound cuts through their bickering, and the room falls silent, the only noise the faint hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Yoongi’s laugh is dark, a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh, princess, you are a prize.” He sets his glass down with a deliberate clink, rounding the desk to cage you against it, the cool, polished wood pressing into the backs of your thighs through your thin dress. His proximity is overwhelming, the heat of his body radiating, his scent—leather, smoke, and a hint of bergamot—flooding your senses. His pale fingers, adorned with silver rings, brush your cheek, the cold metal a stark contrast to your flushed skin. “And we both want to win,” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips, eyes like polished obsidian locking onto yours.

Namjoon’s hand closes around your wrist, firm but not bruising, pulling you toward him with a gentle tug that makes your pulse spike. “She’s not a game, Yoongi,” he says, voice tight, his thumb brushing the pulse point beneath your skin, sending a jolt of warmth through you. His clean, earthy musk—cedar and rain—grounds you, but his eyes, usually warm, burn with a possessive hunger that matches Yoongi’s. The air crackles, electric, as they face off, your body caught between their opposing forces.

Yoongi’s hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back with a controlled tug, the slight sting making you gasp. “Then let’s see who she wants,” he says, lips hovering a breath from yours, the whiskey on his breath intoxicating. Namjoon’s grip tightens, spinning you to face him, and his kiss crashes into you like a wave—deep, consuming, all heat and need. His lips are soft but demanding, tasting faintly of mint and coffee, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, deliberate dance. You moan into his mouth, a soft, needy sound that vibrates against his lips, and Yoongi growls, low and feral, yanking you back to him. The sudden shift makes your head spin, your lips tingling from Namjoon’s kiss.

“Enough,” you gasp, trembling, your voice raw as you shove against their chests, your palms meeting the hard planes of muscle beneath their shirts. “I want you both. But I choose how this goes.” Your words hang in the air, bold and unsteady, your heart pounding so loud you’re sure they can hear it. Their eyes meet over your head, a silent pact forming in the charged silence, the tension shifting from rivalry to something darker, hungrier.

You nod, voice firmer. “I’m sure.” Yoongi’s gaze narrows, and he reaches into his desk drawer, pulling out a sleek black pistol, the metal catching the lamplight with a cold gleam. “You trust us?” he asks, his voice a low purr, one finger tracing the barrel before brushing along your jaw, the steel’s chill kissing your overheated skin. The danger sends a thrill through you, your breath hitching, but his eyes hold yours, waiting, searching.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word steady despite the pulse thundering in your ears. He sets the gun aside with a soft clunk, the test passed, and the air shifts, charged with a new intensity.

Yoongi moves first, shoving you onto the desk with a force that makes the wood groan, your dress rucked up to your hips in one swift motion. The cool surface bites into your bare thighs, a stark contrast to the heat flooding your body. He hooks his fingers into your lace panties, tearing them with a sharp rip that echoes in the quiet, the fabric grazing your skin as it gives way. Your slick folds are exposed to the cool air, glistening under the lamp’s glow, and you whimper, the sound high and desperate, as the vulnerability and desire collide. Yoongi’s eyes darken, a predator’s hunger etched into his sharp features, his pale hands unbuckling his belt with a slow, deliberate clink of metal. His cock springs free, thick and veined, already glistening with pre-cum, the sight making your mouth water and your core clench.

He doesn’t prep you—doesn’t need to. You’re soaked, arousal coating your inner thighs, the scent of your need mingling with the room’s heady mix of whiskey and leather. He thrusts in with one brutal push, stretching you to the brink, the burn exquisite and overwhelming, like fire racing through your veins. You cry out, a sharp, keening sound that bounces off the walls, your back arching off the desk, the edge digging into your spine.

Namjoon’s hands pin your wrists above your head, his calloused fingers a grounding pressure against your fevered skin, the coarse texture sending sparks through you. His lips brush your ear, voice a velvet murmur: “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” the words sinking into you like a balm, his breath warm and teasing against the shell of your ear.

Yoongi’s pace is merciless, each snap of his hips driving him deeper, the desk creaking rhythmically under the force, papers sliding to the floor with soft thuds. His hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, his silver rings cold against your flushed skin, the pressure a possessive claim. “Fucking mine,” he snarls, voice raw and gravelly, his cock hitting spots that make your vision blur, stars bursting behind your eyelids. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, obscene and intoxicating, your slick walls clenching around him with every thrust. Namjoon’s fingers find your clit, circling with precise, maddening pressure, the calluses on his fingertips adding a delicious friction that makes you writhe. His touch is a counterpoint to Yoongi’s cruelty, a dance of tenderness and dominance that frays your nerves. “You’re perfect,” Namjoon murmurs, kissing tears you didn’t realize were falling from your cheeks, his lips soft and warm, tasting faintly of salt.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, the torn fabric of your dress grazing your hardened nipples, the sensation sharp and electric. Yoongi pinches one, hard, rolling it between his fingers, drawing a keening moan from your throat that vibrates against Namjoon’s lips as he kisses you again, swallowing the sound. The contrast—Yoongi’s degradation, Namjoon’s praise—splinters you, your nerves alight with sensation. Your first orgasm crashes through like a tidal wave, heat and light exploding from your core, your walls pulsing around Yoongi’s cock as you sob, your body trembling, overstimulated and raw. The slick gush of your release coats him, dripping onto the desk, the scent of sex overwhelming.

They reposition you fluidly, their movements practiced, almost choreographed. Your knees hit the plush rug, soft and thick under your shaking legs, a stark contrast to the hard desk. The fibers tickle your skin, grounding you as Namjoon kneels behind, his broad hands spreading your thighs, the calluses scraping lightly against your sensitive flesh. His cock, slightly thicker than Yoongi’s, nudges your entrance, slick with your release and Yoongi’s pre-cum, the heat of him pressing against you. He enters slowly, inch by agonizing inch, stretching you anew, the fullness dizzying, like you’re being remade around him. His chest presses to your back, warm and solid, the fabric of his shirt brushing your spine as he whispers, “You’re taking us so well, baby,” his voice a soothing anchor, his breath hot against your neck, raising goosebumps.

Yoongi kneels in front, his cock still slick with your arousal, the musky scent heady as he taps it against your lips. “Open,” he orders, voice a dangerous purr, his hand tangling in your hair, the strands pulling taut against your scalp. You obey, lips parting, and he slides into your mouth, the taste of yourself and him intoxicating, a mix of salt and sweetness that makes your head spin. He’s rougher now, guiding your head with a firm grip, fucking your throat with controlled thrusts, the wet slide of him filling the air with obscene sounds. Your tongue swirls around him, tracing the veins, and he hisses, “Fuck, just like that, slut,” his voice a low growl that sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

Namjoon’s thrusts deepen, each one pushing you further onto Yoongi’s cock, your throat constricting around him, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth. The rhythm is brutal, synchronized—Namjoon’s steady, deep drives, Yoongi’s demanding pace, the rug burning faintly against your knees. Spit drips down your chin, mingling with the tears streaming from your eyes, your mascara smearing in dark streaks across your cheeks. The office is a haze of sex and sweat, the sounds obscene—wet slaps, choked moans, their twin groans blending into a symphony of desire. Yoongi’s degradation—“Such a dirty little whore, choking on me”—clashes with Namjoon’s praise—“Our fucking angel, so good for us”—and the push-pull shatters you, nerves fraying like exposed wires. Your second orgasm builds fast, unstoppable, a coil tightening in your core. Namjoon’s fingers return to your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles, and you scream around Yoongi’s cock, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you, slick gushing down your thighs, soaking the rug beneath you. Namjoon groans, his fingers digging into your hips, the pressure bruising but grounding.

Yoongi pulls out, his release painting your face, hot and sticky, dripping over your lips and chin, the warmth clinging to your skin as you gasp for air. Namjoon follows, spilling deep inside you, his cock pulsing, the heat of his release flooding you as his arms wrap around your waist, keeping you upright against his chest. You’re a trembling, dripping mess, full and ruined, your pulse a deafening roar in your ears, the scents of sex, whiskey, and their mingled musks enveloping you like a second skin.

Yoongi wipes your face with a cloth, gentle, his fingers lingering on the diamond necklace. Namjoon massages your wrists, kissing red marks, his lips reverent. They guide you to a leather couch, the cool surface soothing. Namjoon drapes a blanket, stroking your hair, while Yoongi presses a water glass to your lips.

“You okay, princess?” Yoongi asks, softer now. You nod, dazed, pleasure humming.

Namjoon kisses your forehead. “You were incredible.” His hunger lingers, mirrored in Yoongi’s darkening stare.

The air in the office shifts, thick with the lingering musk of sex and the faint tang of whiskey, a charged undercurrent sparking to life. Yoongi’s hand slips beneath the blanket draped over you, his rings cool and biting against the fevered skin of your hip. His touch is deliberate, tracing the curve with a possessiveness that sends a shiver through you, the metal grazing like a whispered threat. “You think we’re done with you, princess?” he says, voice low, a dangerous edge curling through it like smoke rising from embers. His dark eyes glint in the lamplight, hooded and hungry, the faint smirk on his lips daring you to challenge him.

Namjoon, pressed close on the leather couch, shifts beside you, his broad hand finding your thigh. His fingers, warm and calloused, glide upward, slipping between your legs to find you still slick, your core hypersensitive from the earlier onslaught. The contact pulls a soft gasp from you, your body jerking involuntarily. “Fuck, baby, you’re still dripping for us,” he whispers, his voice a heady mix of awe and raw need, vibrating against your ear as he leans closer. His breath is hot, carrying the clean, earthy scent of cedar, and his fingers linger, teasing your folds with a gentle, exploratory touch that makes your pulse stutter. “You’re incredible,” he adds, softer, his lips brushing your temple, leaving a faint dampness that cools in the air.

Your breath hitches, caught between exhaustion and a reckless hunger reigniting in your core. “I… I can handle more,” you murmur, voice trembling but defiant, your eyes flicking between Yoongi’s predatory gaze and Namjoon’s burning intensity. The words feel bold, a spark of your own power flaring despite the ache in your muscles, the lingering throb between your thighs. Yoongi’s smirk widens, a flash of pride in his eyes, while Namjoon’s dimples flicker, his expression softening with something like adoration.

They guide you to the plush rug at the center of the office, its fibers soft and grounding beneath your knees as you kneel between them, your body trembling with anticipation. The rug’s texture is a stark contrast to the cold marble floor beyond, anchoring you in this intimate, heated bubble. Yoongi stands before you, his black shirt unbuttoned to reveal the lean, scarred planes of his chest, his cock half-hard, the skin warm and velvety as he guides it to your lips. His movements are slower now, deliberate, savoring the way your tongue swirls around the tip, the musky taste of him—salt and heat—flooding your senses. His hand cups your face, fingers tangling gently in your hair, the cool metal of his rings brushing your cheek. “So fucking greedy,” he murmurs, voice thick with pride, his gaze locked on yours as you take him deeper, lips stretching around him. “Look at you, taking me like you were made for it.”

“Yoongi…” you breathe, pulling back briefly, your voice hoarse but laced with need, spit glistening on your lips. “I want to make you feel good.” His eyes darken, a low hum of approval rumbling in his chest as he guides himself back into your mouth, letting you set the pace, your tongue tracing the veins along his length.

Behind you, Namjoon kneels, his hands steadying your hips as you position yourself on all fours, your knees sinking into the rug, your back arching slightly to offer yourself to him. His fingers spread your cheeks, the air cool against your exposed, slick core, and you moan softly around Yoongi’s cock as Namjoon’s tongue licks a slow, deliberate stripe, tasting the mingled mess of your release and his own. The sensation is electric, his groan—“Goddamn, you’re perfect”—vibrating against your sensitive folds, his stubble grazing your inner thighs, a rough counterpoint to the soft heat of his mouth. His tongue delves deeper, lapping with a desperate hunger that makes your hips buck, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet office, mingling with the faint creak of the leather couch and the distant hum of the city beyond the windows.

“Please, Joon,” you whimper, pulling off Yoongi’s cock for a moment, your voice breaking as you glance back at him, catching the raw devotion in his eyes. “Need you inside me.” Namjoon’s breath hitches, his hands tightening on your thighs, and he positions himself, his cock—thicker, harder now—nudging your entrance. He enters slowly, inch by agonizing inch, the stretch easier but no less intense, filling you until your breath catches, your fingers digging into the rug for stability. His chest presses to your back, warm and solid, his arms caging you as he thrusts with a steady rhythm, each movement dragging through the slick warmth, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.

Yoongi seizes the moment, leaning down to kiss you, his lips crashing against yours in a filthy, possessive dance. His tongue mimics Namjoon’s thrusts, tangling with yours, tasting of whiskey and the faint salt of your earlier efforts. The kiss is a claim, hungry and unyielding, and you moan into it, your body caught between them—Namjoon’s deep, measured thrusts rocking you forward, Yoongi’s cock heavy on your tongue as you return to him, gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat. “That’s it, princess,” Yoongi growls, breaking the kiss to guide himself back into your mouth, his hand fisting your hair with just enough pressure to make you whimper. “Choke on me, show me how much you want this.”

The rhythm builds, synchronized and brutal—Namjoon’s thrusts slapping against your skin, each one pushing you deeper onto Yoongi’s cock, your throat constricting around him. The office is a sensory haze: the rug’s soft fibers under your palms, the cool air brushing your flushed skin, the mingled scents of sweat, sex, and their colognes—leather, cedar, whiskey—overwhelming you. Namjoon’s fingers find your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles, and you cry out, the sound muffled by Yoongi’s cock, your body trembling as the pressure builds. “I’m… I’m gonna—” you gasp, pulling off Yoongi briefly, your voice raw, desperate, as you look up at him, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.

“Come for us, baby,” Namjoon pants, his voice strained, his thrusts quickening, each one driving deeper, the wet slap of skin echoing. Your third orgasm crashes through, a tidal wave of heat and light, your walls clenching around Namjoon as you scream around Yoongi’s cock, your body convulsing, slick gushing down your thighs. The rug burns faintly against your knees, grounding you as you shake, every nerve alight.

Yoongi spills first, his release flooding your mouth, hot and thick, the taste overwhelming as you swallow what you can, the rest dripping down your chin, warm and sticky, pooling on the rug. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, his hand stroking your cheek as he pulls out, watching the mess with a mix of pride and possession. Namjoon follows, his thrusts erratic, his cock pulsing as he fills you, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you upright as your legs give out, your body collapsing forward onto the rug, the fibers soft against your cheek. Their hands linger—Namjoon’s tracing soothing patterns along your spine, Yoongi’s stroking your hair, their warmth anchoring you in the haze of aftershocks, the office quiet save for your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the city outside.

They clean you again, Yoongi meticulous, Namjoon tender. Nestled between them on the couch, their warmth envelops you. The necklace glints, a claim. “You’re ours,” Yoongi says, final, tracing the diamonds. Namjoon kisses your temple. “Always.”

Months later, the diplomat’s daughter is a memory you’ve shed like a second skin. You stand at Yoongi’s side in a smoky backroom, the air thick with cigar haze and the low murmur of negotiations. Your sleek black dress hugs your curves, its deep neckline catching the dim light, the diamond necklace—a gift from Yoongi, now a constant adornment—glinting like a star against your collarbone. You’re sealing a deal for a shipment of rare whiskey, your voice steady and sharp, weaving authority with charm as the supplier nods, impressed. Yoongi’s hand rests lightly on your lower back, a warm, possessive anchor, his fingers brushing the silk of your dress, sending a quiet thrill through you. Namjoon, your steadfast shadow, leans against the wall, his broad frame relaxed but eyes vigilant, scanning the room for any shift in mood. His gun is tucked beneath his tailored jacket, a silent promise of protection.

The deal concludes, and Yoongi leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Handled like a queen,” he murmurs, voice low and proud, his lips curling into a rare, soft smile that makes your heart skip. Namjoon steps forward, his dimples flashing as he hands you a glass of champagne, the bubbles sparkling like tiny stars. “You make this look easy, baby,” he says, his tone warm, teasing, but his eyes hold that familiar reverence, like you’re a wonder he’s still unraveling.

Later, at the docks under a starless sky, you oversee the whiskey shipment’s arrival, the crates heavy, their wooden edges rough under the sodium glow of streetlights. Yoongi’s hand lingers on your waist, his touch grounding as the sea breeze carries salt and diesel to your nose. Namjoon’s gaze sweeps the workers, his fingers brushing the grip of his gun, ever-watchful. You catch his eye, and he winks, a playful gesture that softens the night’s edge. You smile back, feeling the weight of their loyalty, their love, like a warm cloak.

Back in the penthouse, the city’s skyline glitters beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a tapestry of lights. The air is warm, scented with the faint vanilla of candles flickering on the coffee table. You’re curled on the plush sectional, still in your dress, the silk rumpled, your heels kicked off, toes sinking into the soft rug. Yoongi lounges beside you, his black shirt unbuttoned, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers, the amber liquid catching the candlelight. Namjoon sits on your other side, his arm draped over the couch, fingers idly twirling a strand of your hair, his touch gentle, reverent.

“Remember when we were kids?” Namjoon says, his voice soft, nostalgia warming his tone as he glances at Yoongi. “Sneaking into that old arcade, fighting over the same claw machine prize?” He chuckles, dimples deepening, his eyes crinkling with the memory.

Yoongi snorts, a rare, genuine laugh bubbling up, warm like a crackling fire. “That damn stuffed tiger. We nearly broke the machine over it.” He sips his whiskey, his gaze flicking to you, then back to Namjoon. “Guess we always had the same taste, huh, Joon?”

Namjoon grins, his fingers pausing in your hair to nudge Yoongi’s shoulder playfully. “Always. From tigers to troublemakers,” he says, his eyes locking on yours, sparkling with affection. “Took us this long to find one we both couldn’t resist.”

You laugh, the sound light and free, your cheeks warming as you swat Namjoon’s arm. “I’m not that much trouble,” you tease, leaning into Yoongi’s side, his warmth seeping through his shirt. He arches a brow, setting his glass down to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist, fingers splaying across your hip.

“Oh, princess, you’re the best kind of trouble,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice a soft growl, but his eyes are gentle, crinkling at the corners as he presses a kiss to your temple. The gesture is tender, his lips lingering, leaving a faint warmth that makes your heart flutter.

Namjoon leans in, his lips brushing your cheek, his stubble a soft scrape against your skin. “Our trouble,” he adds, his voice a warm hum, his hand finding yours, lacing your fingers together. The diamond necklace catches the light, a quiet symbol of their claim, but it’s their touches—Yoongi’s possessive hold, Namjoon’s gentle grip—that make you feel like a queen.

The moment shifts, a familiar heat sparking as Yoongi’s teeth graze your neck, a playful nip that sends a shiver down your spine. “Careful,” you murmur, half-laughing, half-breathless, as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your dress, teasing the sensitive skin of your thigh. “You’re gonna start something.”

Namjoon chuckles, his free hand cupping your jaw, turning your face to meet his kiss, slow and deep, tasting of champagne and devotion. “Good,” he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with want. “We’re not done spoiling you.” Yoongi’s hand slides higher, his breath hot against your ear, and you melt between them, their love a fire that warms rather than burns.

One gun, two kings, a queen they’d burn the city for. In this moment, wrapped in their warmth, their laughter, their unbreakable bond, you’re untouchable—a triad built on love and loyalty, soft as silk and strong as steel.

A/N: This story was crafted with love for a special request—thank you for inspiring this dark, passionate journey! I hope it captures the heat and heart you envisioned.

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #rm smut #suga smut #kittenanwrites #bts poly au #poly bts x reader #polyamory #kim namjoon #min yoongi

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winedarkthoughts · 1 year ago

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house of addams (6)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 5.5k

— 🍄 summary: desperate times call for morally grey measures.

— ☕ content warnings: stalking (but it's mutual??), taking photos without consent (also mutual), slight lore dump, mentions of death/decomposition/missing persons

— 🕸️ a/n: thank you so much to everyone who continues to share their thoughts i love y'all so much!!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 6: don't stalk, investigate

october 19, 2004

The trees surrounding the university are starting to brown at the edges. Fall has begun its descent.

The click of the camera shutter has become white noise to you. Through the viewfinder, you follow the motion of the mop of black hair.

You've found that that's how he starts almost all of his mornings: messily, sleepily. More often than not, his hair is just-rolled-out-of-bed fluffy, the lower half of his face covered with a black mask so you can only see his cat-like eyes.

He looks good today, wearing a loose white button-up and silver jewelry. He approaches the university with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, still clearly half-asleep.

Yoongi is not a morning person, you've learned. You know because you've been watching him.

Listen, you never claimed to be a saint. And yes, maybe half the reason that you're a damn good private investigator is because you're willing (and perfectly capable) of doing the things that others would rather not.

So be it. You've witnessed others commit far worse evils than the one you're currently undertaking.

Long story short, your mental blockade with the case (and whatever the fuck happened at the lake) may or may not have caused you to look into some of the strange characters frequenting Farrow's End. Starting with the shy, antisocial botanist.

The fact that he supposedly lived in the Addams house (according to the commentary from the college students) wasn't the thing that made you suspicious, it was the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. Pretended to know absolutely nothing about it, to boot.

As a human being, you can respect someone keeping their secrets. As a private investigator, your job is to dig up any secrets that prove relevant to your investigation.

Half of you wants to believe that he's nothing but a good guy. You can admit that you like him, that you relate to his aura as the token "weirdo." But the cynical part of you, it whispers in your ear that he shouldn't be trusted.

No one should. Your job has taught you that much.

Therefore, you have to exhaust each point of view until you find out who's guilty, and who's less guilty. Because pure innocence is impractical.

And after what you saw (or think you saw) at the lake, you're going to have to gear your research towards less "scientific" topics. And try to avoid the woods at all costs. For the time being, at least.

On most days, Yoongi begins his days early, and mostly on-campus. It didn't take long to witness him being transported by the same black Mercedes that you saw outside the cafe, the one supposedly belonging to one of the mysterious Jungs.

Though Yoongi never enters the car in heavily populated areas. He usually walks a short distance to a more private spot, and then the car pulls up like clockwork.

You can never get a good look at the driver, thanks to the tinted windows.

So far, the only suspicious thing about the botanist is the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. He goes to class, goes to his labs, gets coffee, goes home, with very little in-between.

Well, that plus spending a large amount of his time on campus with one specific chemist. And it doesn't take much longer to realize that he lives at the Addams house too.

Jimin, unlike Yoongi, is often late. He gets dropped off by the same sleek car, a short distance away from his destination, then he power walks to wherever he's going, fluffing and preening himself along the way.

Whether it's a hand brushing through his hair, or a knuckle pushing up the bridge of his glasses (which he never leaves the house without), or him adjusting the collar of his shirt, he's almost always fixing himself.

Sometimes, you get the impression that he isn't comfortable in his own skin.

He has a few other signatures: those heeled boots, pants that are almost always too tight for your liking, glasses (either tinted or completely dark), and always a mask covering his mouth. That, or sometimes an oversized scarf pulled up to just under his nose when it's particularly chilly outside, the wind rustling his hair and it's oddly shifting color.

You've taken to wearing one of your smaller cameras around your neck at all times, just in case you run into anything suspicious and need to snap a picture.

The morning mist has deepened into a constant drizzle most mornings, and that leather jacket you bought at Magic Shop has come in particularly handy. The garment is warm and cozy, and it always gives you a feeling of comfort whenever you wear it.

Fine, so maybe following Yoongi and Jimin didn't yield the results you wanted, though you'll admit it was fun. Still, something is telling you that there's something suspicious about that house and those who reside in it.

So you move on to another lead: Kim Taehyung.

He rarely leaves the house, you've found. So you have to conclude that he lives there as well as works there. When he does leave, it's on official business. Either to go to the police station to pick up documents or out of town to examine a body.

He doesn't ride in the Mercedes, though. Rather, he drives a classic black hearse. Again, peak dedication to the aesthetic, which you can appreciate.

And fine, maybe you snapped a few pictures of him on the rare times you caught him out of the house, but it's all for the sake of the investigation.

At first, you were quite hesitant to get too close to the house on the hill, with its looming trees and black birds hovering all about the roof.

But one day, when you creep up the path, the front gate opens on its own to welcome you. You were planning on scraping along the outside of the gate, peering into the yard through the iron bars. You weren't expecting it to actually open for you.

A gust of wind surges through the air, pulling you towards the house. The rustle of the trees practically whispers come closer.

It takes you a little bit aback, but you don't show it. Just in case someone is watching. In fact, you barely react to it, simply sidestepping the gate entrance and continuing along the path as if you were on a morning walk.

You walk along the entire perimeter of the gated yard, which is much, much larger than you anticipated. There are a number of gardens, a small hedge maze, a swamp even, and at the very edge of the property, a graveyard.

The tombstones are dotted throughout the wooded grove, a thick layer of ivy covering the ground like a burial shroud, and an air of calm hangs about the place.

But it isn't until you circle back to the other side of the house that you see something you truly weren't expecting: Jin, your favorite barista, strolling through the garden with a cup and saucer in his hands.

Wearing a turtleneck under a black coat, his hair blowing picturesquely in the chill wind, he meanders past the crumbling stone statues and trickling fountains.

You quickly duck behind a tree, reaching into your jacket to grab the small binoculars that you typically carry when you're in the..."observation" phase of the investigation. No, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this sort of thing.

Jin leisurely walks over the cobblestone pathway, sipping from his cup with a satisfied expression. He'll run a hand through his hair or lean against one of the stone garden walls, looking over his shoulder every once in a while.

And maybe it's just a hunch, but you get the sense that he knows that he's being watched. The weird thing is that he doesn't seem bothered by the fact at all. In fact, it almost looks like he's...posing.

An itch at the back of your neck. A glance back at Jin tells you that he's not looking at you, nor has he realized that you're there. But still, now you feel eyes on you.

You look around but find nothing but white-barked trees. And maybe if you looked a little closer you would've noticed that the knots in said trees look a little too much like eyes, open and alert.

Even if you had noticed such a thing, your conscience would tell you that obviously that's not the case. Trees can't watch people.

You'd be wrong, of course, but how could you have known that then?

october 23, 2004

He only ever works nights. The graveyard shift, to be specific. His shift always starts after the sun has set, and it ends just before it rises again.

Normally, you'd split your time between the cafe and the bookshop, but recently you've dedicated almost the entirety of your days to watching the barista and learning his habits. And in that time, you've hardly seen him eat.

In all the time you've spent watching him combined, the only things you've seen him eat include: a handful of olives, a few slices of bread and cheese, and the occasional spoonful of honey. Coffee and the offhand glass of red wine (which he pours into a teacup with a charming wink when he catches you watching him) is all you ever see him drink.

The only time he leaves the Addams house, besides to go to work, is on Saturday mornings when the Farmer's Market takes up the town square.

Sporting a checkered coat with the collar turned up to shield the lower half of his face, sunglasses (even though it's utterly cloudy), and an umbrella held over his head (even though it's not even drizzling), Jin scours the aisles, scrutinizing each booth's wares to find only the freshest and best quality produce, meats, and bread. He also procures some fancy cheese and preserves, his tastes expensive and well-refined.

The only other time you see him deviate from his routine is to visit the nearest hospital one afternoon. You're expecting him to enter into the waiting room, but he circles around the back, waiting by a STAFF ONLY door.

That same tickle from somewhere in your brain, the one that makes your eyes a little blurry. You take a moment to refocus them, and then you see the door crack open.

The person behind the door hands Jin an object that he quickly conceals in his coat, and the interaction is too quick for you to see what exactly it is.

But not quick enough for you to miss taking a picture. Because you've learned that it's always best to prioritize the camera before your eyes.

You take it to the dark room that same day. And the film reveals that the object appears to be a plain white box. Your guess is that it's a thermal container, the ones used to transport samples or the like.

It's a bit embarrassing to admit that it takes another day to put two and two together.

You're sitting in the cafe, skimming through the files of the five missing persons, when Jin approaches your booth and silently places a pastry on the table.

It's another one of his habits, you've noticed. Whenever you're in the cafe and have gone a long time without ordering any food, he'll subtly bring you something without a word, and you're usually too focused on your research to notice until some time has passed and it's too late to reject the offer.

You've told him several times that though the gesture is appreciated, he doesn't need to provide you with any freebies just because you're in here all the time. But he just brushes you off and claims that he needs a taste tester for his new recipes.

You let it slide after telling yourself that he probably does the same to a number of other customers given his charming nature (though in all the time you've observed him he's never done it for any other patron, but that you conveniently ignore).

This time it's a little cake, topped with a strawberry and absolutely smothered in fresh cream. When you cut into it, red jam spills from the inside of the cake like blood from a wound.

Then it finally clicks.

...Blood.

Like a slideshow in fast motion, all of the little details spring back into the forefront of your mind. The time when you noticed his shirtsleeve riding up, revealing a faded scar distinctly resembling a bite mark on the inside of his wrist. The time you noticed him drinking from a to-go coffee cup, but with a ring of red surrounding the opening in the lid.

And at the hospital, a thermal container used to transport samples such as blood bags, or even human organs.

Fuck.

You push the dessert away at the realization, scrambling to gather your things and leave the cafe as quickly as possible.

Of course, that means you miss the concerned and slightly disappointed look on Jin's face as he watches you go.

october 24, 2004

You don't know what makes you more of an idiot, the fact that you're actually close to believing that Jin is some sort of blood-sucking creature of the night, or the fact that it took you this long to consider the fact based on all the warning signs.

Unfortunately, nothing is impossible. And though none of your investigations so far have pointed to something so overtly "supernatural," you have to entertain the possibility.

Because it's possible that something about it could trace back to one or more of the victims, since clearly this case has proven to be far from normal.

Though the internet is a great resource, currently all you can find is blog posts, and you'd prefer not to cite those when it comes to professional matters. So you turn to local folklore, urban legends, and the security of the written word.

When you enter the bookshop the next day, you realize just how broad of a topic it is. There are hundreds, even thousands of mythical creatures across different cultures. It's going to take a long time to factor out one with the right features and track it's roots.

Then you remember the man behind the counter. Namjoon is currently staring at the mass of papers on his desk, looking confused and frustrated.

"What's all that?" you ask as you approach the counter.

"My accounts. Balancing my checkbook," he replies without looking up from the mess.

"Ah," you say in understanding, in pity.

A pause.

"Want a distraction?" you finally ask, and his head whips up almost instantly.

"Dear God, yes."

You chuckle, moving to lean against the desk.

"You're a writer, right?"

"Yes," he answers with a nod.

"What kind of things do you write?"

"Mostly research papers, some articles here and there, a few field guides."

Hmm, so he's more of a scholar, then. Interesting.

"In what area of study?"

Namjoon's mouth twitches like he's trying to find the right words.

"Folklore," he finally answers, but obviously there's a little more to it.

Perfect. You bite back the urge to rock on your toes with excitement.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

He smiles at that, dimples and all, like nothing would delight him more.

"Of course, anything you want," he answers, voice curling around the edges.

And you don't know it, but he means it sincerely. He would tell you anything and everything about him and his little family if you would only ask.

Any of them would, really. Technically, none of them have ever lied to you, they just haven't share all the information.

And if Namjoon is being honest, all of them are quite eager for you to get a little more invasive and figure them out for yourself.

"What do you know about mythological creatures that feed on life energy?"

You didn't mean for it to come out so specific, so incriminating. But you're getting a little tired of questions without a ghost of an answer.

His eyebrows raise a bit.

"To be honest with you, my knowledge is limited mainly to the folklore of this region," he admits, sounding apologetic.

Even more perfect. You try not to give away too much of your excitement, despite the fact that every time you encounter him he only seems to get better and better.

"Pray tell," you urge, leaning forward slightly with open ears.

A little bashful expression crosses his face as he settles deeper in his chair, all thoughts of taxes abruptly thrust aside.

"Well, vampiric creatures are quite common across folklore in many cultures. They're usually associated with outbreaks of disease, and vampire hunts are mostly accompanied with epidemics..."

You let him talk for as long as he wants, listening eagerly and only looking away to scribble a few notes from time to time. It's clear that he's passionate about what he studies, speaking about it like a lover would.

He tells you that even the word "vampire" is shrouded in mystery, as linguists do not know the precise etymological origin. Apparently, the folklore of this region is steeped in Slavic roots, so that's what he focuses on to narrow it down for you.

From the Old East Slavic language, the term "vampire" hails from the word "upir," which is speculated to translate as "someone who bites" or "the thing at the feast/sacrifice," though the word has no definite origin.

Namjoon tells you that scholars agree that the term was used as a stand-in, since they were too afraid to say the creature's true name.

"An upir needs to feed on life essence to survive. In literature, this is usually represented by drinking blood, since it represents life," Namjoon explains.

"Usually?"

He shrugs.

"The "opir" in Ukraine consumes large amounts of fish as their source of sustenance, preferences vary across cultures."

"You speak of it like they're real," you say with a chuckle, watching closely for his reaction.

Another shrug, this one more uncomfortable.

"To the Slavs, they were. The universal belief in supernatural beings was common. Unseen entities were part of the way they understood the world," he says.

"Hmm," you mumble, scanning him up and down. You try not to delight in the way he squirms slightly under your scrutiny.

"Most of the traits attributed to vampires these days are based on myths, or downright misunderstandings," Namjoon blurts out. "Like how the outbreak of rabies in Europe led to the belief that the upir are afraid of light, which is ridiculous. Many of the symptoms of rabies, which is spread through biting, coincide with the supposed traits of vampires, like the fear of light and altered sleep patterns."

He says it all like he's slightly annoyed.

"Or how they assumed that the upir are undead because during decomposition, built up pressure can push the blood into a corpse's mouth," he continues.

"So the upir aren't undead at all?" you probe.

"No, it's just a misconception," Namjoon replies like he's in the throes of a heated debate.

He seems to notice, since the next moment he's clearing his throat awkwardly and slumping in his seat.

There's a moment of silence as you jot down some more notes.

"They're not evil," he blurts out like he can't help it, and the look on his face implores you to believe him.

You look up at him.

"Across the centuries, they've always been used as the scapegoat for things humans can't understand," he adds softly.

Hmm, yes that seems to be a recurrent theme in human history.

You close your notebook and straighten up from leaning on the desk.

"Very interesting. Thank you, Namjoon," you say and mean it.

He smiles and nods as if to say of course, but after your back is turned, his face falls a bit, wondering if he let a little too much slip.

"Too much? In my opinion, you didn't tell her enough," Jimin quips.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, but he's mainly focused on Jin. The older man only smiles at him, pressing a comforting hand to Namjoon's cheek.

"Don't worry, love. I don't mind at all," he says. Because yes, he too is eager for you to realize just what they all are.

"I just don't want her to think we're the ones behind all this," Namjoon admits.

"If she's as smart as she appears, then she'll figure that out for herself soon enough," Hoseok replies, slowly circling the room with his arms crossed.

He approaches the elegant leather couch that Namjoon and Jin are occupying.

"Joonie," he says, running a hand down the younger man's neck.

"I don't think it would hurt to drop her a few more hints, hm?" And everyone notices the smirk on Hoseok's face.

"I'm tired of waitiiiiing," Jimin whines.

"She's still a skeptic, Minie," Yoongi supplies from where he's watering the plants against the window. "She needs to be eased in."

Jimin just rolls his eyes.

"We could just kidnap her," he suggests.

"No." The reply comes instantly from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi simultaneously.

Jimin laughs high and bright.

"Come now, Jimin," Hoseok says with a sharp smile of his own. "Everyone knows it's more fun when they consent to it first."

october 25, 2004

The next time you enter the bookshop, Namjoon immediately mentions that he put together a little collection of texts for you to look over, saying they might be interesting to you. Maybe even aid in the investigation.

You thank him earnestly. And no, your face doesn't heat up at the fact that someone has gone out of their way to make your life easier.

When you slip into your usual nook, you notice that one of the drawers in the desk is adorned with a little pink ribbon around the handle, almost like it's gift-wrapped. And when you open it, you see several books, articles, and newspaper clippings, all of which seem very promising.

Something stirs in your stomach at the sight, but it's quickly set aside as you lock in and dive headfirst into the new research endeavor.

There's the notice for each of the missing persons, all the mentions of them so far in the newspapers, including one article from a publisher you've never heard of.

With the headline simple reading DISAPPEARED, the short snippet describes each missing person and the details of their last eyewitness account. The strange thing is that the article includes far more details than the big-name publishers, making you wonder why you haven't heard of it before.

The Periscope Press. You don't recall seeing it in any of the corner stores around town, but you do recall some of the people you interviewed mentioning details from "the newspaper" that you hadn't heard previously. Maybe this is the publisher they were referring to.

When you ask Namjoon about it though, he is surprisingly unhelpful. He claims that he can't remember where he came across the article, saying that he often picks up stray newspapers for wrapping and packing purposes for the shop.

Well, you suppose you'll have to save it for later then.

Also among the pile of papers in the drawer, there's a short blurb announcing the opening of the Kim Morgue and Crematorium. Taking a closer look at the date tells you that Taehyung's practice has actually been passed down through nearly three generations.

Technically, Taehyung is actually Taehyung III, taking the same name as his father and grandfather and great-grandfather before him.

But it's the photo you stumble upon that really stalls your breath.

A portrait, faded and yellowing, dated almost seventy-five years ago. The subject is a man dressed in a brown suit and tie, his hair dark and curly, except it looks exactly like him. From the Roman slant of his nose, down to the way he positions his shoulders, it looks almost indistinguishable from the Taehyung of today. The family resemblance is apparently very strong.

And again, it's a little embarrassing how long it takes you to reach the conclusion that to others, especially to the supernaturally-inclined, might seem obvious.

But you've already mentioned that you're a bit of a skeptic.

october 28, 2004

You fear that you may be going a bit crazy.

The dreams are getting worse. They've escalated from simple images and sounds to corporeal sensations. You feel the water so sharply, the cold, the current, even the vibrations. You can see hands reaching towards you, and sometimes you are compelled to reach back. Sometimes you swear you wake up smelling of seawater.

And the itchy feeling of being watched has only gotten stronger. You feel as though you're always looking over your shoulder, always listening for following footsteps.

In the past few days, you've used your research as an effective distraction.

You've found that the Kim family has run the morgue out of the Addams house for almost as long as the Jung family has owned it, Taehyung hailing from a long line of coroners and forensic pathologists rooted in Farrow's End.

With a little digging, you discovered that the Jungs have been business tycoons for decades, buying and selling and trading their vast number of industries to generate a near endless stream of income that they then hand down to their children and children's children.

Unfortunately, most of the knowledge on the Jung family is circulated through the townsfolk, so you have to ask around a bit to get a more solid basis.

The current owner of the Addams house is one Jung Hoseok. Young, beautiful, and filthy rich, according to those you spoke with on the streets. But, apparently he spent most of his youth in a mental hospital. Not only a mental hospital, a high-security facility for the criminally insane.

Now, you're not sure how much of that you believe, but you still have to entertain the possibility.

And one day, you even catch sight of him. A small crowd tends to gather whenever the black Mercedes pulls into town, curious eyes prying into the tinted windows.

You're lingering outside the bookshop one afternoon, making sure you didn't leave anything behind after a four-hour-long research session, when the car rolls through the streets like a slinky black cat.

Whispers immediately fill the air, causing you to look up from your bag, which is bursting at the seams these days from all the papers you have to carry around.

The car stops at the curb in front of the cafe, the driver soon killing the engine. Then, the driver's side door opens, and a black-booted foot steps onto the sidewalk.

The man is handsome, you have to admit, with long black hair that curls at the nape of his neck. His face is sharp and angular, with a softly heart-shaped mouth and surprisingly bright eyes.

He's dressed in pressed pants and jacket, thin and elegant. The man walks into the cafe and picks up a to-go order, gets back into his car, and drives away without so much as a glance at all the people who have stopped to stare at him.

You being one of them, but you're fairly certain that you're the only one who takes a few pictures.

But it wasn't until yesterday that you started to really feel like you were losing your marbles.

As you're asking around town, you breach the subject of the town's forensic pathologist. Everyone you speak to has nothing but good things to say about the young coroner, except for the fact that he isn't as young as you thought he was.

You ask a woman you struck up a conversation with outside the grocery store about the Kim family, and she says that Taehyung did a fantastic job taking care of her nephew for his funeral.

You agree, mentioning your admiration for how educated he is for someone so young.

That's when the woman's face turns puzzled. "Young?" she says, raising an eyebrow. She goes on to say that the most recent Kim Taehyung has been running the morgue for the last twenty years.

"Taehyung III?" you ask. "Thin, dark eyes, looks a bit like a Roman statue?"

"Yes, that's the one. Took over the family business after his father died. But no children, I hear he's training a young apprentice that will likely take over when he retires."

You mention that surely Taehyung has time to have children, but that same confused expression crosses her face.

"Isn't he nearly seventy though?"

A squirmy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You awkwardly brush off the woman, apologizing for the confusion.

You ask almost every other passerby you see on the street that evening about the town coroner, and they all say the same thing. A kind man, very good at his job, and most definitely in his late sixties.

They all insist that there hasn't been a young Kim in the business since Taehyung was a trainee nearly thirty years prior.

So you do a little more digging, and turns out it's true. If you'd have looked a little closer at the dates on all of Taehyung's degrees and certificates, you'd find that he acquired them all between fifteen and twenty-five years ago.

You're tailing him the next morning. You got lucky, today being one of the rare days when he leaves the Addams house to go into town.

He steps out of the hearse in leather shoes and a sweater vest under his trenchcoat. You suppose he dresses like he's older, from the way he tucks in his shirt and cuffs his pants, but he also sports a crossbody bag over his shoulder that others would most likely consider feminine, but he pulls it off effortlessly.

The clouds are letting down a light rain, leaving dewdrops on your jacket and making Taehyung's hair appear just a bit fluffier.

There's that same streak of gray from his hairline. The only indicator that he possibly isn't an attractive man in his late twenties/early thirties.

But that's exactly what you're looking at. Not an older man with aged skin and silver hair, rather more like a bronze god with a mop of black curls. And the only sign of age from knowledge or experience is deep in his eyes.

You begin to follow him down the street, sneaking pictures occasionally, curious what would happen if you were to show said pictures to others. Would they still see an old man? Or would they see the young one you've been seeing from the beginning?

You get the odd sensation that you're being watched, but from a source you can't name, since you're fairly certain Taehyung hasn't noticed you.

It's as you're nearing the end of the sidewalk, slipping in-between a cluster of people, that he suddenly stops dead in his tracks.

You stop too, a cold chill latching onto your spine. He stands there for a moment, perfectly still.

Then, he turns over his shoulder and looks right at you.

There haven't been many times in your career where you're genuinely shocked speechless. And even fewer when your target is not only fully aware of the fact that you're trailing them, but apparently isn't bothered in the slightest by it.

Because then a smirk is creeping onto his face. Those tiger eyes turn a shade darker, and he nods his head slightly as if to greet you.

He knew you were watching him, they all did.

The ice under your skin only intensifies when you hear the click of a camera shutter from behind you.

Whipping around, you see Jung Hoseok standing just a few feet away, a camera held up to his face and the brim of his hat tilted down, but you know it's him.

And the lens is pointed at you.

What's strange is that no one else seems to notice him. Every other time you've seen him in town, everyone stops to stare, but now they slide around him like he isn't even there, their eyes looking right through him.

Something weird is definitely going on.

You dissolve back into the crowd like a ghost.

october 29, 2004

A letter appears on your doorstep. The stationary is soft and expensive-looking, with your name scrawled on the front in curling script. With no return address.

It's enclosed with a red wax seal, stamped with the image of a crow.

You debate on whether or not to open it for approximately three minutes.

Dearest _______,

We cordially invite you to the Addams House for dinner, dancing, and drinks on October 30 at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Please bring your case notes for discussion.

Dress code: semi-formal.

Fondly,

Jung Hoseok

The back of the paper reads:

How do you accept this invitation?

➳ With enthusiasm

➳ With excitement

You think about it for about thirty seconds. Circling "with enthusiasm," you slip the paper back into the envelope and set it back outside where you found it.

It's gone the next morning.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear any of your thoughts! 👉👈

#bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts fanfic #bts series #bts mystery #bts x fem!reader #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts poly au #bts poly x reader #bts fic

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