#bts sope au

[captain-joongz]

Cinderella

Pairing: club owner!Min Yoongi x f!reader x right-hand man!Jung Hoseok

Genre: non-idol au, pure fucking smut i'm not even playing, a hint at s2l??

Summary: Question - what is something that might help a shameless brat trapped in a body of a shy girl come out of her shell? Answer - two hot owners of a local club more than happy to whip her into shape.

Word count: 19.7k (i'm sorry lol)

Warnings: ginger Yoongi and that mama 2022 red carpet Hoseok (*in Britney Spears voice* a guy like you should wear a warning~), intoxication, min yoongi hands, they're softer doms, threesome, oral (f rec.), breath play and slight choking (i'm so predictable), light bdsm themes, spanking, bondage, light use of a whip, humiliation and degradation, reader is a right brat, multiple orgasms, overstim, clit slapping

A/N: indulge in this sope brainrot :). when i tell you this scenario changed my life i'm being only a little dramatic, long live our dom kings and i will die on this hill

„Come on Y/N, you should totally give it a try!” one of my friends exclaimed, drunkenly leaning on another one of our gals to her right, “You never know! And you should be more confident!” Other girls sitting around the dingy sticky table in the club we were currently in all enthusiastically nodded and grumbled their own supportive comments.

I looked over them, still unsure, and then back to the ginger man sitting on the bar, relaxedly swirling a glass of an amber gold liquid and occasionally taking a sip. He wasn’t really talking to anyone, just sat there and watched the two guys manning the bar wordlessly, which in my friends’ opinion made him an ‘easier target’.

Target of the stupidest game our drunken brains could have come up with – whoever manages to seduce a guy the quickest drinks for free for the rest of the night. The second that suggestion hit the table, I loudly opposed it, for two reasons.

First, it seemed kinda mean. And secondly, and most importantly, I was terrified of coming up to someone and just flirting. That’s not something I did, not that I was against it or for the lack of trying, and occasionally I entertained when someone came up to me and flirted, sometimes even going home with them. But I was shy, and when I got shy I got painfully awkward, so I’d rather save myself from that embarrassment.

“Yeah, it would do you some good,” my best friend Yeri, a tall thin pretty girl with her hair dyed cupid pink, suddenly turned to me and joined into the fray, “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re super hot and somehow you don’t realise it at all.” She was already a little tipsy as well, her posture more relaxed than usual as she giggled along every other word. There’s no love like drunk girl talking to her friends.

“That’s easy for you to say, you already finished your mission!” I whined back to her, the whole table’s undivided attention on me. To keep the stakes high and the game fair, we collectively selected a few guys and randomly divided them between us – each of us went to a specific man that was chosen by us and given to each girl.

But mine was out of this world, like unfairly so out of my league it would be embarrassing to even try. The moment I lost the game of rock paper scissors, I tried to bargain my way out of it – there was no way I could bag a guy like that in under a minute! That was insanity! But the girls wouldn’t budge, telling me to challenge myself and have faith in myself. That was easy of them to say when they didn’t have to walk up to a god amongst men and try to awkwardly flirt with him.

“Look at that guy, if I tried to talk to him he’d probably think I’m the valet or something,” I continued to grumble, as the constant stream of complaints didn’t stop since I lost the game.

Our attention collectively jumped back to him as he sat there. He had the kind of smirk on his face that was annoyingly effortlessly hot, giving him the aura of someone who was very well aware of his otherworldly qualities. The black tee with some kind of white print was oversized just right to be fashionable and hung off of his frame in a way that enhanced his physique in the best way. Black cargo pants and black boots gave him a punk vibe, and the whole look was finished with some chunky steel rings and necklaces that somehow managed to be even more hot and not look gaudy at all. My eyes trailed down to the rings, which were comfortably sat on one of the best hands I’ve ever seen, and I had to physically stop myself from drooling.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell I could just hit on that.

“What’s the worst that could happen? He says no. It’s worth a try,” Hana, another part of the friend group tried to wheedle me into going one more time. They all probably sensed I was about to give them another rebuttal, and an understanding passed through all of them.

Suddenly several pairs of hands were manhandling me, pulling me onto my legs and out of from the booth with the table we were sitting at. I let myself be pushed to the edge of the seat, too confused about what’s going on. Someone pushed a glass of alcohol in my hand and I downed it, resigning myself to this happening. A wave of compliments and encouragements washed over me, and I turned on shaky knees, those several drinks I’d already had making themselves known now that I was stood.

I took a step forward, froze, another few steps, and then promptly power-walked all the way back to the table. There was some booing and some disappointment, the girls already grumbling about how I shouldn’t chicken out now.

“How do you even flirt with someone like that?!” I hissed out in panic, not having the slightest idea of how to initiate conversation.

A barrage of tactics flew over me, one stranger than the next one, but I turned to Yeri, trusting her the most. “Just be really bold, he seems the type to like it,” she told me once she saw my trembling eyes, “walk over all confident and say something really crazy and ballsy.” With one last smile she started pushing me away into the direction of the bar again.

Easier said than done! ‘Just be bold’, thanks very much! That was the problem from the very beginning!

Putting my complaints away and pushing my brain to think of something to say to the rapidly approaching bar-dweller, I nervously dragged my gaze over him several times, stumbling in my distractedness several times. Come on brain, what do we like about him? What can we say?

As the man got closer and I got a clearer look at him, one thought overpowered every other – hands hands handshandshands.

I basically crashed into the bar upon my arrival, somewhat inelegantly attempting to lean into it with way too much force. The man startled a little before his eyes jumped up and looked straight at me, no distinct emotion discernible in them, but he certainly didn’t look extremely friendly.

Before I could stop myself, I let go of the reins over my drunken brain and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What nice necklaces you got there, but don’t you think they’d look better around my neck?”

I tried to sell the statement more by putting on a (hopefully) cheeky smirk and then pointedly looked at his hands coquettishly.

The man froze, only stared at me wide-eyed and shocked to his core, hand holding his glass halfway to his lips. Silence. I started panicking, and basically begun melting down with the shame and humiliation, already prepared to apologise and slink off to some dark corner and die there, but then he smiled.

It was a wide shit-eating grin, a devilish glint in his gaze now as he obviously checked me out, eyes gliding over my figure in a clearly appreciative manner. He put his charm on thick, lips curled smugly as he stared me quite intensely.

“Well, I don’t know princess, guess you’ll have to try them out,” his voice was basically a purr, a deep rumble that started up in his chest and drawled out of his mouth in a velvet perfection. I shuddered, now quickly getting flustered when he was flirting back. But I steeled myself, determined to bring this to a successful end. Mama didn’t raise no quitter.

“Oh, and you’d let me have a test drive?” I drawled out with my fingers playing with my hair (how basic!!), only a light stutter to my words that immediately sent a wave of heat to my already red cheeks. I only hoped it wasn’t visible under the lights of the club and the bar.

He leaned forward, chest now pressed into the edge of the bar, which brought our faces impossibly close. His eyes were dark and half-lidded, full of lust and dark promises, as his lips stretched in a self-satisfied smirk. The hand that used to hold the glass was now slowly, teasingly making its way up the skin of my naked arm, breaking a wave of goosebumps in its wake.

My whole body quivered, and my next exhale came out shaky; it was too audible in the tense atmosphere between the two of us. He must have definitely heard and felt my reaction, judging by his soft snicker, expression full of amusement and desire. Then his eyes bore into me, into my very soul, and threatened to consume me.

“I’d let you do that and a whole lot more, princess,” it was a whisper, but that didn’t take away from the intensity of the statement and the promise in his words. It poured over me like hot honey, my back immediately straightening and thighs pushing together on instinct, trying to contain the gush of sensations hitting my lower tummy and my heat. Very embarrassingly, I could already feel my panties rapidly getting wetter and wetter; the effect of the man was immense and he knew it very well, judging by the smug aura.

With a satisfied grin his hand moved from my arm down to my thigh, squeezing the flesh right under the hem of my mini skirt. The twitch that tore through me was completely involuntary and once again I found myself fighting for every shaky breath taken.

A quiet melodic laugh hit my ears and then the ginger menace leaned even closer to whisper straight into my ear. “Cute,” was all he muttered before he pulled all the way away from me, raising his hand to catch the attention of the barman, “but first, let me treat you to a drink, kitten.”

That suddenly snapped me back into reality and my brain jumped back online. As if waking up from a terribly amazingly sweet dream, I remembered the reason why I came over in the first place – the bet. The bet I thought I would absolutely fail at that I was about to complete now.

A laugh bubbled out of my throat, sweet and mischievous, and all the confidence I pretended to feel before rushed through my body straight into my head. With a giggle I leaned in and said: “A drink you say, huh?”

My smug smirk must have been awfully annoying, but the man only looked at me with curious eyes. He sensed the change in my behaviour immediately and it threw him for a loop – his amazingly brave little lamb was now laughing at him like the she was the wolf? His head tilted to the side as he tried to figure me out, but I only made sure he was watching me as I gestured thumbs up back to my friends.

The whole table erupted into cheers, Yeri was wildly gesturing something to me and it took a moment to realise she was trying to say I won. Her finger was pointing at her phone that had the stopwatch app open and she was laughing joyfully and sending me thumbs up. I grinned at her back, elated that I was able to not only overcome the initial fear but also best all the others.

Turning back to the ginger who was watching the whole interaction with curious surprised eyes, suddenly unsure and a little less dominant. I giggled at him, happily plucked the prepared colourful drink from his waiting hand and stood up, not before bowing to him slightly.

“Thank you very much, I appreciate your help,” I teased him with a wide smile, going as far as to lean heavily into his side until my lips were almost pressed to his ear as he did to me earlier and then whispered my killer shot: “It was pleasure doing business with you.”

With that I walked away, hips swaying side to side and confidence like I’d never felt coursing through my veins. The atmosphere at the table was unrivalled, and I had to admit it was probably the most fun I’d ever had on a night out so far, and I probably indulged in the free drinks far more than I should have.

But whenever I’d start feeling a little bad for my behaviour, I’d shyly look towards the bar, hoping I wouldn’t see the man too upset. He wasn’t. Anytime our eyes met, the wild primal hunger reflected in his would threaten swallow me whole, sending little shocks of pleasure and heat through my whole body.

That night I spent dancing feeling those eyes bore into me, eating up my every movement and salivating over me so openly I felt the fire of his lust all across the club. He never disappointed, never failed to deliver, and I lived for it.

And if I put on a little more show than I usually did while swaying my hips and dancing to slow sensual beats, that was only my business.

“I can’t believe you managed to talk me into coming here again,” I muttered grumpily to Yeri, who was happily vibrating next to me, her wide grin almost infecting me with the joy as well, but I held steadfast and kept on a frown just because. To prove a point, actually.

The girls (the same group as last time) were excitedly chattering in the line right behind us as we stood in the blistering heat of the setting sun on the street, waiting to be let inside a club. Why yes, it was the same club as last time.

The fateful Saturday night happened already full two weeks ago, and since then I haven’t stopped listening about it.

As my friends watched my interaction with the handsome stranger (the next morning, incredibly sore and hungover, I shamefully realised I didn’t even know his name), it suddenly was less about the bet for them and more about rooting for me to go and actually fuck him. I was so embarrassed about their loud drunken outbursts, trying to push me back into his direction and very unsubtly begging me to go and “get some premium dick”, but I stood my ground and never strayed from the dancefloor.

When we were leaving at 4 am – tired, already in the awful stages of slowly sobering up and with melting makeup and blistering feet, I was hounded the whole time about going to get his number at least (which I didn’t). I told them some things just end this way and I was okay with it (I wasn’t). In reality I was just a big fat coward.

The following two weeks were hell on earth – nobody, and I mean nobody, ever stopped talking about the ginger guy and how he had me folding with two or three lines and some charming smirks. The amount of scolding I got daily for not taking him up on his offer or at least giving him some contact info was insane, and I was slowly losing my patience with it.

That’s why when this Saturday the suggestion to go to the club again was thrown into the group chat, I knew it was more about them hoping I’d bump into him again than actually liking the club itself. I fought, valiantly, but I was outvoted. Someone even tried vetoing my disagreement.

So that’s how I found myself here, about to walk inside again in a black pleated mini-skirt, black crop with a heart cutout over my cleavage and cute little strapped heels (outfit courtesy of Yeri who wouldn’t let me walk out of my room until she approved that I was ‘extremely fuckable’) and some courageous makeup that I was slightly unsure about but everyone kept saying it was hot.

I was nervously shuffling, leaning into Yeri’s side as she started comforting me and calming me down.

“Don’t you think it’s even more awkward, seeing him again after I fucked him over like that?” I mumbled into her shoulder, careful about not smudging my red lipstick all over her pretty pink dress. Her arm coiled around me tighter and she quickly shook her head, her curled hair hitting me int the face with every move.

“Absolutely not, you think I didn’t see the way he was eye-fucking you the whole rest of the night? That was foreplay, baby. Now it’s time for the main course,” she recited confidently, and finally pushed us towards the stairs down now that the whole group was inside. I didn’t fully agree with her, to me it was obvious the connection kinda fizzled out by the end of the night, but I didn’t want to burst her bubble.

Tonight I’d go along with them, comfort them through the disappointment of him not being here (because what are the chances, honestly), and if he does show up I’d give him the awkward wave and move on and then they can cry about how anti-climactic this whole thing was. They’ll be sad for about ten minutes and then buy shots and promptly forget about any guys.

That was my plan for the night.

And for a while, everything went according to it. Coming down into the main hall of the club, all eyes (even mine, but I’d never admit it out loud) eagerly turned to the bar which the man was glued to the entire time, only to not see any sign of the ginger bombshell. My heart quivered in disappointment only a tiny bit, but I didn’t let them see, only gave them a look that screamed ‘I told you so’ and moved on.

During the first few rounds I scolded myself for actually letting myself get swayed by their words and hoping for his presence against my better judgement, and quickly convinced my heart that it was for the better he didn’t show up.

For a few hours we danced and drank, and it almost seemed that everyone started forgetting the reason why they even pushed to come here, the whole experience slowly turning into a normal night out, when suddenly Yeri that was dancing next to me loudly gasped into my ear.

It alerted me to her, but before I could even turn to her, she started wildly slapping my shoulder until it hurt.

“Ow, ow! Stop!” I slapped her hand away, considerably gentler than she did to me, and scowled at her slightly irritated with the commotion.

“He’s actually here!” she screamed that in my face, but with the loud music pumping all around us she might as well been whispering. The statement took the wind out of the sails of my slight annoyance and I floundered, stuttering and staring at her wide-eyed.

When Yeri realised I was too shocked to look myself, she grabbed my shoulders and forcefully turned me in the direction of the bar. I almost wanted to close my eyes, not even wanting to believe he actually did come to the club two weeks later and now I was facing the real chance of a terrible let-down, but at the same time I yearned to catch another glimpse of the ginger demon that swung my world upside down in literal seconds.

Tonight he was wearing a plain black hoodie and wider jeans with a single cut on both of his knees, showing off some pale skin that glistened under the flashing lights. He sat in the same spot, which meant currently his back was turned to us and he was none-the-wiser to our presence. He was locked into a long conversation with one of the guys manning the bar. They seemed pretty friendly, which spoke of the fact that he was most probably a frequent visitor.

I felt my palms getting clammy as I suddenly sweated for a very different reason than before. Yeri was excitedly shouting and gesturing at the rest of the group, and I saw some of their very crude and very dirty gestures back, before I turned back to the bar blushing and embarrassed.

Before I knew it, Yeri was fighting our way through the crowd towards the bar and I twisted a little in her hold, panicking and ashamed.

“Yeri, wait! God, please wait!” I pleaded with her, and something in my voice must have been truly desperate because she actually listened to me. With troubled eyes she gave me a once over, clocked in the shaky eyes and unsure knees, and then changed the direction towards the hall with toilets.

It was relatively calmer there, the bass still booming through the walls and the echo of the song playing reaching our ears, but we could actually speak in a semblance of privacy where usually no one lingered for too long.

“What’s wrong?” my best friend asked, and to her credit, she was truly worried, but I couldn’t believe she didn’t understand. I threw my hands out and looked at her incredulously.

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?” I asked her, exasperated, “What don’t you understand about the fact that I maybe don’t want to talk to him again?!” My voice raised a little, and I did feel bad about it, but the whole situation put me too much on edge to apologise immediately.

Yeri didn’t seem to be too offended, instead she just watched me with her steady all-knowing eyes, and it felt like they saw all the way inside my insecure little soul. My face crumbled under the power of that, and I knew she’d have me spilling everything to her anyway by the end of this conversation.

“Y/N, you literally have nothing to worry about,” her guess was correct, just as I feared, and I avoided her softened loving gaze, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, and I know you know that, and I know you think you’re too awkward… But you had that man literally drooling all over himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you until the moment you walked out of that bar. He wants you, a lot.”

“I know that we kind of stared at each other, but I don’t know…” I told her and I hated how weak and vulnerable my voice turned as I spilled out my insecurities to her, “the novelty kind of wore off, didn’t it? Now I’m just an awkward girl stuttering under the gaze of the hottest guy I’ve ever fucking seen. I could barely get a word out when he looked at me.” That had my friend smirking up a storm and I narrowed my eyes at her, already knowing she was about to annoy the shit out of me.

“Yeah, and as someone who watched your entire interaction, he fucking loved it,” she said firmly, a teasing lilt to her words, “Please, trust me. Do you trust me?” Of course I fucking trusted her, so I petulantly nodded, even though I was grumbling to myself that it had nothing to do with that.

“Do you trust that I have a set of functioning eyes?” she teased some more, grinning at me mischievously as she poked me in my ribs with her fingers. Even as I tried to stay upset, the laugh was punched out of me completely involuntarily and I found myself slowly relaxing. When I nodded, her grin turned all happy and toothy.

“Then trust me when I say that the moment you walk up to him, he’ll be over the fucking moon,” her voice was soft and loving, and it almost made me a little mushy, “and trust me when I say that tonight he’ll definitely not let you walk away from him.” She winked as she said that and I laughed at her, pushing her a little teasingly.

I did feel lighter and less stressed. I felt like I could actually go and talk to him again, and I smiled at my best friend, knowing she just wanted the best for me and was always on my side.

“And if he turns out to be a dick, then you’ll come back and I’ll buy us a drink and we’ll curse him out,” she added cheekily, already stepping away from me to head back onto the dancefloor. That made me laugh, because… as if I didn’t say that before.

Rejuvenated and slightly more confident, I turned from Yeri and headed in the opposite direction she went in – straight to the bar. The guy was still sitting there, still turned away from me, but now he seemed to be back to not really engaging with anyone, not even the friendly smiling barman that was currently serving drinks to someone while laughing with his coworker… until he wasn’t.

In an inopportune moment his head turned just right for me to graze the corner of his eye and then he was full on swinging around to do a double take, startling the poor guy he worked with. Suddenly there were two sets of eyes trained on me and I froze, blushing under their gazes as the recognition set in and teasing smirks played on both of their faces.

The dark-haired one then went to wave his hand, but immediately I realised it wasn’t to greet me but to alert the ginger who was kind of just staring off into nowhere. To keep the element of surprise, I lunged into movement, basically jumping the last few steps and crashing into the bar in a terrible déjà vu, trying to look elegant and sexy even as I winced lightly at the impact.

My back was now turned to the two little shits behind the bar, and I could only imagine the expression on their faces, but I was too preoccupied with the wide-eyed stare from the man of the hour himself.

This time he shook off the surprise way quicker, relaxing almost immediately as he realised who I was, a truly smug smirk splitting his face. His gaze was unabashedly travelling all over me, taking in every detail, and I was suddenly reminded of how intense it was to be in the centre of his attention.

“Well, well, look who it is,” he drawled out, but it was more amused than anything and I slowly started letting go of the fear that he was incredibly mad at me for our last meeting, “what, looking for another free drink?”

I flushed with embarrassment, avoiding his eyes as much as possible, which wasn’t that much of a great idea when that brought me to staring at his hands. His cursed, beautiful hands that never strayed too far from my dreams even as I tried to forget about the man.

They started flexing, stretching across the expanse of the thick glass and showcasing their strength, and I realised I was caught. Not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my plight, I turned my gaze somewhere slightly above his shoulder, fixating on a pillar or something that stood directly behind.

“Sorry about that, it was a stupid game,” I stuttered out, trying to ignore his insistent attempts to move his head to where my eyes were trained at, “It was quite rude of me.” He chuckled and I could basically feel the entertainment seeping off of him in waves.

“Don’t worry about it princess,” the velvety purr was back and the ginger clearly decided that if I wasn’t going to look at him, he’ll just try every dirty trick in the book. He leaned into me, lips easily finding the shell of my ear as his hand weightily clasped over the exposed skin of my thigh.

“There’s a very easy way for you to make it up to me,” he whispered languidly, caressing over me with his sweet words, “this time when I buy you a drink, don’t run off, as easy as that.” I was so embarrassed by my previous actions I found it hard to actually answer, so I just cleared my throat and hummed low in my throat in agreement.

He seemed satisfied with that, hand moving from my leg to possessively squeeze at my waist as if he was insuring I really wouldn’t leave as soon as I got my drink, and I did have to laugh at that. His narrowed eyes hit me as soon as he heard my giggles, the teasing reprimand in them spoke volumes, but he stayed silent, hand waving for the barman while his eyes never left mine.

“What’s up,” came the low baritone of the guy as he came closer to us. I could clearly hear the amusement in his voice, but the informal address also didn’t escape me, and I started wondering who this guy actually was. This time I would at least leave the bar knowing his name, if nothing else.

Tuning out while he was ordering, I was just about to ask for his name, when the teasing voice of the younger guy registered back into my brain.

“And would that be on the bar, Yoongi-hyung?” it was some kind of a joke, judging by (apparently) Yoongi’s scoff even as he clearly wasn’t mad or annoyed, and he shot back with: “Stop asking stupid questions, Tae.” It was all jokes and games, the two men laughing and smiling at each other, when I froze in his hold.

Wait a minute. On the bar. Yoongi. Hyung. A memory rushed to the forefront of my mind – Hana excitedly rattling off about a club she wanted to go to, that she heard about because apparently the word on the streets was the owners were super hot. Saturday, two weeks ago, as she dragged us off into this club. A club owned by some guy called Min Yoongi and his friend Jung Hoseok.

The very same guy that was currently watching me go through this whole rollercoaster of realisations with an amused grin on his face, hand still securely curled around my waist and pushing me into the bar.

Jesus fucking christ.

I wasn’t actually sure whether I paled or blushed, but something crazy was happening with my face as I opened and closed my mouth like a beached fish fighting for its life, finger slowly lifting and wordlessly pointing towards the ginger man.

Yoongi finally couldn’t hold it back anymore and burst out laughing, the pure joy on his face making him look even more impossibly handsome with his cute smile and eyes closed in glee, but then he was suddenly fixing me with another one of his cocksure smirks and leaning closer.

“Oh kitten,” he purred, and his excitement was suddenly palpable between us, his whole body trying to curl around me eagerly, “don’t tell me you didn’t even know whose hands you wanted to choke you so bad?” My breath got stuck in my throat fighting to stutter out, and then I was just all pliable and melting right in his arms. That’s all it took, and it was absolutely pathetic on my part, but I couldn’t really bring myself to feel ashamed about it, especially not when Yoongi was pulling me closer, off the bar stool and nearly wedging me between himself and the wooden bar.

“Come on, princess, where’s my cocky little tease telling me the naughtiest things and then walking away with a huge fucking grin on her face?” the man teased me, so close that his hot breath was hitting the crook of my neck as I shivered and trembled under him, “You’re being such a good girl right now, I’m beginning to think this might be another one of your ploys.”

At his words, a surge of confidence hit me, reinforced by the clear lust that was dripping off of his voice, off of his aura. Suddenly I was back to the night two weeks ago, preening under his starving eyes, each moment between us packed with so much unreleased sexual tension it might have set the whole club on fire.

While Yoongi tentatively nosed under my ear, testing the waters afraid he’d push me away by being too much too fast, I sneaked my arm up his back aiming to give him exactly what he wanted.

Snaking my hand into his hair, I heard his little sigh, body pulling into me a little further as he took it as an encouragement to continue. Just as his lips lightly kissed at my neck, the slightest sweetest hint of tongue tasting the salty sweat, I grabbed a handful of the ginger locks and pulled, dragging his face away from me.

The moment our eyes met, it was like an electric current went off between us, his pupils dilated and darkened, consumed with desire, and mine couldn’t have looked much different. There was slight annoyance at my action written on his pretty face, but the grin was as amused as ever, pleased, even, that I dared to go against him.

My tongue slipped through my smirking lips very briefly, just teasing the man with little extra disobedience, and it worked to pull his attention, gaze trained on my blood red lips.

“There she is,” he whispered that almost reverently, the unfiltered joy running through him on a shiver, and I saw the exact moment he lost the battle to his instincts and surged to claim my mouth in a searing kiss.

Only… he never got there. Yoongi abruptly stopped midway, eyes jumping somewhere behind my shoulder, and I almost whined out loud, so desperate for his attention after I had it for a few brief moments.

But then his grin turned nasty, just downright filthy, and a shiver of arousal plundered through me. Before I knew what was happening, brain already muddled by this guy almost beyond recognition, he was spinning me in his hold. My back hit his chest, his hand splaying over my stomach in the process, and I was greeted with a delicious sight.

There was a man sitting in the chair that I was previously occupying before Yoongi pulled me off to himself, he was leaning his head on his hand that was propped up on the bar, watching us with an amused smirk and hungry eyes. I flushed under his gaze, and also from realising that he’d been watching us, but with the slightest curl of shame in my stomach I found that I really didn’t mind at all.

This guy was insanely attractive as well, he had dark hair slicked back and swept off of his forehead and an expanse of skin on show. He was also dressed in all black, but a very different vibe – dress pants that hugged his waist and hips nicely, accentuating his slim form, a silken blouse that was open all the way to his fucking belly button, but somehow it still looked extremely stylish and tasteful, covering just enough while giving you a taste of exquisite miles of honey-toned skin. He topped it off with a black suit jacket that fell past his hips and hung off of him nicely. For some reason he was also wearing his sunglasses, even here inside the club.

Looking at him made me feel like a horny nun in a sex shop. I swear to god I started sweating under his obviously interested eyes that peered over the rim of those black glasses and lingered on Yoongi’s possessive hold around my waist.

His hand swiftly tugged the sunglasses off and when he looked at my face again, there was a bright friendly smile on his, but something sharper and darker lurked beneath it, sending shivers down my spine in anticipation.

“Having a fun night, hyung?” he asked, voice happy and teasing, a laugh spilling out of him effortlessly like it was natural for him to do that with every word. Behind me there was a slight rumble as well, and I could only guess what kind of expression graced the ginger man’s face, but something hungry reflected in the newcomer at seeing it.

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi said in greeting and I jerked, recognising that name immediately. Amusement pulsed in the air, making me feel like I suddenly got caught between two starving wolves, while I just stood there wide-eyed and blushing. “You wouldn’t believe who returned to me tonight,” the older man continued, and I could hear the shit-eating grin in his intonation.

The hand that wasn’t currently lightly caressing the exposed sliver of skin between my crop and my skirt lifted from its place on the bar and laid gently on my neck, hold just strong enough to feel its weight there and fix me in place, but not to actually grasp. My heart stammered a few times in my chest, a needy noise getting stuck in my throat and tampering off into a little whiny exhale. My face was burning, but the interest of the two men seemed to skyrocket at the sound.

“Oh!” the exclamation out of Hoseok’s mouth was full of unbridled thrill and he leaned closer as well, recognising the gesture as something to do specifically with me in a way that sent shame and excitement through me, “Look who it is, our very own Cinderella!” Now when his gaze swept over me, there was a slight glaze over it, like he was putting the body to the tale he must have heard from Yoongi himself.

“So this is she,” the dark-haired man said finally when his eyes feasted enough, sparkles reflecting in them as he stared me down before he offered me his hand. Kind of dumbfounded I reached for it on instinct, making me even more aware of Yoongi’s hands coiled all around my body.

Hoseok quickly grabbed it as soon as it got within his reach, but instead of a handshake he pulled my hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the top, eyes sending me cheeky glances as I blushed under the ministration.

“Nice to meet you, Cinderella, my name is Hoseok,” he stated sensually, the fire that was steadily burning right under his surface momentarily showing, and then he pulled back all sunshiney and smiley again, like he wasn’t staring me down like a predator just a second ago.

“Oh, that’s right,” Yoongi suddenly mumbled, and I shamefully realised I was so pulled into Hoseok’s aura I forgot about the presence glued to my back, “What is your name, princess?” The dark-haired man in front of me suddenly gasped loudly, jokingly slapping his friend’s shoulder in reprimand.

“Hyung, you haven’t asked her till now?” he whined loudly, draping himself over the counter a little bit and making himself comfortable leaning his head on his hand again, “How incredibly rude of you. You were about to stick your tongue down her throat without even introducing yourself.” I flushed at the reminder of what got interrupted by Hoseok’s arrival, quickly averting my eyes and staring at the floor shyly.

There were few chuckles all around, and then the hands released me. I stumbled a little, not expecting to lose my tether and allowing my legs to grow weak knowing I was being held up, but thankfully Hoseok seemed to have quite quick reflexes, and his hand shot out to grab my hip, righting me on my feet. I mumbled my thanks and leaned on the bar casually like I was just waiting for my drink, trying to ignore the mounting sexual tension between the three of us.

Quickly clearing my throat, I hoped to dispel the slight awkwardness that suddenly overtook me, drumming my fingers on the bar. Suddenly realising that the drink Yoongi ordered for me stood completely forgotten and melting there, I reached for it and started downing it while I felt their amused but still ravenous eyes on my figure.

“I know, Hobi-ya, I’ve been such a bad host,” Yoongi purred out, fingers playing with the glass with what I assumed was whiskey. Since every time my gaze got stuck on his perfect hands his ego seemed to grow even more (which I thought to be impossible, but Yoongi proved to be an impossible man, so it checked out), I tried to avoid the sight, but my eyes still got dragged down every once in a while, lured in by the massive rings flashing under the lights and the pretty veins flexing with every movement.

There was some rapport between them, shooting one clever dirty remark after another, but I sort of tuned them out for a moment, getting lost in the world of possibilities that opened before me quite abruptly. I try to win a bet and end up getting chatted up by not one, but two owners of the very club. I almost wanted to run off just to whisper this to Yeri and giggle about it with Hana, some slight snickers escaping my mouth at the image of her wide-open mouth at finding out who these guys were.

“What are you laughing at, Cinderella?” a voice right next to my ear tears me out of my musings, and I immediately shuddered, feeling the hot puff of air of his breath hitting the tender skin of my neck. Hoseok was grinning at me wickedly when I turned to him, so close I could count all of his perfect pretty lashes.

Belatedly I realised I never actually introduced myself, the conversation getting derailed immediately and I got so flustered I forgot he even asked, so I cleared my throat and said: “My name’s Y/N.” It came out a little scratchy still, emphasizing how deliciously nervous they made me, which in turn served to excite them even more – I could see it in their dark expectant eyes.

Then I smirked, regaining a little bit of sense now that I wasn’t helplessly caught in Yoongi’s sweet net. “And that’s none of your business,” I added, barely supressing the desire to stick out my tongue at him. I’d keep that one in the arsenal, I was sure I’d get many a chance to be bratty at him until the morning.

Hoseok hummed, a spark running through him at the tiniest bit of attitude, but then he smirked back.

“I see what you mean, hyung, you do have to push her a little to get to that fire,” the dark-haired man said almost too conversationally, like they were discussing their favourite drinks. His head tilted as he regarded me and I felt almost undressed under the weight of that stare. Looking at him, he was clearly already thinking of how he’d like to push me to get the reactions he wanted, so I chose to ignore him even as heat threatened to overtake my face.

Instead I narrowed my eyes at Yoongi, who was trying to look as innocent as possible but he couldn’t hide the devilish spark about him, his smile a little too sharp to get away with anything.

“What exactly have you been telling him?” my voice tilted in faux anger, but there was a grin tugging at my lips even as I was attempting to fix him with my stare. Needless to say, he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

Leaning forward, until our noses were almost brushing and our breaths mingled, and I felt my knees getting a little weak again, he grinned. “Nothing but the truth.” We were locked in what I’d call an eye-fucking staring contest, but neither of us wanted to back down. As I started to feel a little more comfortable in their presence, I quickly found my spine again, and they clearly liked when I sassed them a little. So I let go and slipped into my usual stance.

“Well, I originally came here to talk shop, but this is much more interesting,” came Hoseok’s voice from our right, and we both looked over at the same time. He was watching us with an obvious smile, but not the ones like before, no. This one made me shiver (as if they haven’t been doing that for the entire night).

I quickly spun around, leaning on the bar with my back instead of my front, and looked seemingly carelessly into the crowd, partly trying to annoy them a little and partly actually searching for Yeri to make sure she knew I was okay.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s clearly nothing happening,” I sing-songed slyly, making sure I put a little distance between all of us. Yoongi, who was clearly the one more experienced with me bolting, was shifting around on his stool, and for the first time that evening I realised how much they both towered over me even with my heels, even when they both sat and I was standing. It was exhilarating, like getting slowly sweetly hunted.

I made eye contact with my best friend exactly the second two hands from two different directions wrapped around me and fixed me to place, Hoseok’s elegant hand squeezing at my waist while Yoongi’s bejewelled one made itself home in the crook of my neck, as close to grabbing me by the throat as he could get away with in the middle of a crowded club.

I stuttered out a gasp, my thoughts screeching to a halt and Yoongi took the chance to dip down to my ear and whisper: “You’re not running away from us that easily, pretty girl.” I couldn’t help the little smirk, thinking back to Yeri’s words promising me that if I went to speak to him, he wouldn’t let me go again. Oh how right she was, and she’d be super annoying about it later, but right now I was so glad she convinced me to go I’d accept all the teasing later.

Yeri was watching the interaction with sharp eyes, face a little worried at the sudden appearance of a second man. She raised her hand in the universal ‘ok’ gesture, a question written into her features. I quickly nodded, not wanting to leave her hanging, and then turned to Yoongi and staring right into his eyes.

“If I knew you were this desperate for me, I’d have given you a few more crumbs last time,” I teased him shamelessly, too satisfied with myself for Yoongi’s liking. He growled lightly, the rumble rising through his chest and throat and vibrating on my shoulder. The ginger ducked his head back into my neck and then there was a quick warning nip to the soft skin, which had me gasping breathlessly, thrumming in their arms.

Hoseok was quietly laughing to my right, free hand amusing itself by playing with my dark curled hair while he amusedly watched his hyung getting provoked like that.

With blown out pupils and wild heart jumping around in my chest I turned again to find Yeri’s eyes once more. She was glancing our way occasionally, and by now the other girls noticed as well, all hooting and hollering and gesturing at me happily. I grinned back, and then pulled out my phone from my little bag and tapped it so everyone saw. It was our gesture to have them check their messages.

With that I slowly pulled myself from their hands, and as possessively as they both clutched at me, once I actually showed the intent to leave, they both let go easily, leaning back in their chairs. I could see the moment of nervousness in Yoongi’s eyes, probably afraid he’d taken it too far with the bite, but I smirked at both of them, trying to ease them a little.

“Gentlemen, I need to use the restroom,” I announced heartily, thrusting my bag into Hoseok’s hands, “I trust this will be safe with you.” With a little wink, clutching my phone in hand, I turned on my heel and happily bounced through the throngs of people towards the quiet hallway.

Once there, I quickly pulled up the group chat, not being able to keep this all to myself anymore.

Petty bitch: you won’t fucking believe me what I found out

The slew of messages was immediate, some begging for the tea and some berating me for texting them when I had two very hot men to make out with.

Pink nightmare: istfg if you don’t tell me now

Petty bitch: calm down lol, i’m not gonna leave you hanging

Petty bitch: you know who these guys are?

Petty bitch: min yoongi and jung hoseok

Dressed to distress: ARE YOU FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW??????

Dressed to distress: Y/N YOU BETTER NOT BE PULLING YM BALLS RIHGT NOW

Dressed to distress: istfg you better go there and fuck them until they can’t walk or i’ll never speak to you again

Pink nightmare: i think Hana almost passed out when she read that

Dressed to distress: shut up it’s big news

Dressed to distress: it’s THE min yoongi and jung hoseok

Dressed to distress: FUCK THEM. N O W.

I was laughing at the endless barrage of messages, Hana and Yeri taking over the group chat with their combined freaking out and subtle threats to end our friendship if I leave again. The smile on my face was fixed permanent at that point, and the warmth spread through me quickly knowing I had such support out there, even though it was about getting fucked senseless.

Petty bitch: aye aye captain, will do sir

Dressed to distress: you better

Petty bitch: you were right tho yeri, about what you said before

Pink nightmare: i know ;)

With one last smile at the screen, I locked the device again and made my way back to the bar, where the two man conversed leisurely. A third chair was pulled between them, waiting and empty, and Hoseok was still securely clutching onto the little red handbag. I supposed that was the only reason they were being so chill, though I wouldn’t understand anyone that would be able to walk away from them for the second time.

Confidently walking over, I went straight for the empty stool and sat down without glancing at either of the men, instead gesturing at the smiley barman, Tae if I remembered correctly. He waved at me and without saying anything he started preparing my drink.

Well, there was a certain advantage to being the girl that his bosses were about to fuck.

Said men didn’t waste a second and immediately engulfed me in their warmth, flanking both my sides, hands wandering around the small of my back or the exposed skin of my thighs (that one was definitely Yoongi, judging by the cooling feeling of heavy jewellery dragging across the heated skin that made me shiver more than I was prepared to admit).

A small talk started up between us, talking about mostly nothing or inconsequential things, about what we did that day or whether I also got mad at the latest change in bus schedule (Hoseok got weirdly passionate about that, considering he most definitely either drove a high-end car or even had a chauffeur).

But it was increasingly more difficult to pay attention to a single thing that was said when their hands slowly but surely strayed more and got bolder and bolder, with Hoseok’s sliding up, up, under my little top, until his thumb was sliding across the line of my bra, while Yoongi had managed to slowly inch his way almost all the way under my skirt. He was so close to accidentally brushing against the edge of my panties, and it was driving me insane.

I was endlessly squirming in my seat, legs constantly fighting to either fall further open or squeeze under the rush of sensations, either giving the smug man more opportunities to caress my inner thigh or just trapping his hand there.

And as if sensing what Yoongi was doing, and how he kept me on edge, Hoseok begun inching his head closer, leaning in until I felt every word he said on the skin of my naked shoulder, until his soft lips were brushing against me with every laugh and murmur, sometimes even giving up the pretence of polite conversation and just openly kissing his way around my crop when he wasn’t talking.

It took me entirely too long to realise they were just winding me up on purpose, finding new stupid stuff to bring up just to prolong the sweet torture.

I snapped sometimes in the middle of a heated debate over soap dispensers in public bathrooms, just as Yoongi was detailing his thought process over choosing the ones they had in their restrooms.

“Are you planning to finger me right here on the bar?” I jumped into his spiel, the frustration bleeding into my voice, “Or are we going to talk about soap until morning?” Yoongi immediately shut up, amused grin playing on his lips and his hand flexing on my thigh at the mention of fingering. Hoseok also froze where he was in the middle of gently mouthing at the back of my neck, and I felt his lips pull into a smirk.

Tae that was just passing by looked horrified though and started protesting basically as soon as I was done with my little outburst.

Before I knew what was happening, both men were on their feet and pulling me along, each one hand in their grasp. There was a quick understanding between them, and they both started off in the same direction.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hoseok purred, overcome by the excitement, “No matter how hot fingering you at the bar would be, let’s reserve that for when the club’s closed.” The promise of future endeavours worked like a charm on me, and I quickly melted into their embrace, speeding up to keep up with their rushed steps.

Turns out, they were going towards a dark door, coloured just well enough to blend into the walls. Yoongi impatiently started unlocking it, almost barging into it once the key finally turned. It opened to a narrow little barren hallway that ended in stairs going up.

The three of us couldn’t fit there side by side, so I ended up with Hoseok’s arm around my shoulders with Yoongi going ahead, taking the stairs by two. Up there was a little space and a singular door, which finally led into what must have been their office space.

It was a nice room, a little dark, there was only a single small window and it was currently night outside, but it was decorated nicely, giving it a modern yet cozy feel. There was a dark wood desk in one corner, with a massive chair behind it, and a nice little conference table with a comfortable sofa in the other.

Hoseok led us straight towards there, but just as I wanted to move to sit on the nice dark blue furnishing, I was pulled down by the man and we both tumbled onto the soft carpet instead. He cleverly manoeuvred me so that once down, I ended up almost in his lap, and his arm coiled around my waist quickly to keep me pressed up against him.

I’d have laughed at his cheekiness, I would have, but then his face was buried in my neck and finally kissing in earnest, and all that came out of me was a pleased sigh. There was clinking coming from somewhere behind us, but I ignored it in favour of running my hand up Hoseok’s back until it was tangled into his styled hair. He released a few pleasured chuffs and then he was pulling back.

I whined, I couldn’t help myself, and I wasn’t even particularly ashamed of it once I saw his teasing smile. The dark-haired man amused himself by pressing in closer, our lips only a breath away, and then jerking from me when I tried to close the distance, laughing in earnest at my frustration.

His hands kneaded my hips, similarly pulling me close enough but then keeping me in place when I tried to shuffle closer, until I had enough. I was so turned on, not only from the teasing from before, worked up from their gentle touches on the bar, but also from being so close to finally having what I wanted only to be entertainment for him. So fine, if he wanted to play, let’s play.

Using the hand in his hair, I tugged at it a little harsher than before, enough to jerk Hoseok’s head back as he wasn’t expecting it. A little hiss of pain escaped his lips, but even as I quickly descended on him I saw the swirl of arousal in his eyes. Using the moment of surprise, I finally crashed our lips together and barrelled into him, not giving him a chance to stop me when I finally climbed atop his lap properly and made myself home there.

He took it all in stride, giving me what I wanted, happily so if his overjoyed little noises were anything to go by. I didn’t give him a chance to tease more by controlling the pace of the kiss, instead I kissed him filthily from the beginning, going in hard.

Hoseok matched my pace easily, accepting all of my desire and doubling it with his own, wasting no time in licking into my mouth, pushing his tongue in and claiming me thoroughly. We battled for dominance briefly, our tongues messily pushing against each other, the kiss descending into heated wet chaos, but it was mind-meltingly good and I couldn’t stop the outpouring of moans that the man eagerly swallowed and answered with his own.

When we finally separated for air, I suddenly became aware of the fact that I’ve been rocking against him as his hands firmly gripped at my waist, supporting the flow of my movements.

We breathed heavily into each other, my brain already muddled and its only goal turning to getting railed into oblivion. Hoseok’s gaze was trained somewhere off to my left and I turned, being greeted by the sight of Yoongi leisurely sprawled over the sofa, whiskey glass hanging from his hand.

His eyes were beyond starving, fixed on us in a manner that excited me as much as it unnerved me, but then Hoseok was chuckling into my ear and whispering “hyung must like the show” and my head was spinning with the force of lust that surged through me.

This time when I lunged for another kiss, the man was already expecting me, accepting me. Hoseok was full of eager noises, sighs and moans and groans, all escaping into my hungry mouth and sounding through the room alongside the wet smacking of our lips. And I wasn’t far behind, the quiet moans spilling out freely as my hips jerked over the man, this time very much with purpose.

There was a bulge increasingly hardening right beneath my soaked centre, and every time I rubbed against it there was a hitch in both of our staggered breathing. My skirt has long since ridden all the way up, pretty much exposing my panties to Yoongi’s eager eyes as he watched me hump his friend.

Our mouths fell apart for breath, but Hoseok immediately trailed wet scorching kisses down my jaw and neck, licking into the skin there. At first I didn’t even realise when the scales of power started tipping the other way, not until I was suddenly pulled up and slammed down on the little table, splayed on my back and with a very horny man attached to me and pushing me into the sturdy wood.

My head was spinning and I could barely see through the haze, the fog filling my mind with every swipe of Hoseok’s talented tongue, and when I bumped into something I didn’t even care that much. Not until the dark-haired man bit down hard at the junction of my neck and I threw my head back with a debauched scream, body seizing and arms flying back in an attempt to grasp onto something.

Soft jean material was suddenly between my fingers, and I started slowly noting that there was a bony leg underneath it.

Hoseok’s hips relentlessly pushed into mine, jerking into me and letting me feel every inch of his now erect cock, still confined to his silken pants.

“Going to ruin your expensive slacks, pretty boy,” I gasped out with a laugh and the man scoffed into the skin in the crook of my neck. His hips slowed down to a drawled-out grind, torturing me with delicious drag of the prominent bulge through the thin material of my panties.

I felt his big strong hand splayed out on the meat of my thigh, holding my leg curled around his hips and pinning me into place.

“I’m not a teenager anymore, angel, I can hold my own,” he purred between licks and kisses, enjoying the slowed down pleasure as it made me squirm in impatience, since the turn in pace was quite sudden.

“Oh yeah? You’re already a big boy?” I teased right back, little gasps and moans escaping me with every sharp nip to my neck. I was already breathless, writhing around on the table under a man who seemed to be gradually more and more cocksure as the seconds ticked by.

Hearing my words, he ground his hips into me with surprising force, shocking a moan out of me. “Can’t you feel for yourself?” he giggled into my ear, upping the tempo and force behind his thrusts until I was thrown around and had no idea where was up and down.

Brain overrun with pleasure, any kind of smart retort died in my throat under the sudden onslaught of pleasure coursing through me, only desperately holding onto Hoseok’s shoulders while he ravaged me. The little table pitifully squeaked under us, but it seemed it would hold even with how wild he was getting.

“Oh? No more witty remarks?” he now fully teased, enjoying this little game we had going, “Do you only behave when you’re fucked into oblivion?”

Before I could respond, Hoseok straightened out, hands migrating to hold down my hips as he jerked into me and laughed down at me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what sight I made – flushed, with messy hair and red lipstick smeared around my lips. His eyes drank me up hungrily, mouth open and tongue licking his lips like I was the most delicious dessert. There was a tinge of red on them from mine too, and with his blown out eyes it painted such an erotic picture I felt myself clench around nothing.

A deep dark chuckle from behind me made me remember the fact that there actually was another person here with us, but I didn’t turn to look at him. Instead I channelled all my energy into smirking towards Hoseok.

He himself was far from collected, a tiny line of sweat breaking out at his hairline and his cheeks were a healthy red colour, eyes hazy and dark. Sensing my rebellion, he smiled sweetly and waited for what I’d grace them with.

“And you think you have it in you to do that?” I gasped out cheekily, almost even winking at him, but instead I settled for letting my tongue peek out slightly and poking my upper lip with it, “A healthy confidence is sexy, but don’t oversell yourself, pretty boy.”

The moment Hoseok’s eyes darkened with slight aroused irritation, face pulling into a hard dominant mask, I knew I’d succeeded in pushing his buttons just right. I felt the hands holding me tighten, but his hips abruptly stilled.

A disbelieving chuckle came from Yoongi, who must have been comfortably sitting on the sofa behind us watching everything unfold. “Now you’ve done it, princess,” his deep raspy voice rumbled amusedly.

Anticipation set heavy into my bones, my whole body thrumming in excitement while I watched the tick in Hoseok’s jaw. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head, no doubt coming up with some way to punish me.

“Well, I think we have to teach our little guest some manners, don’t you hyung?” it was like a switch turned in him and there was no trace of the happy smiley man he was mere minutes ago, now only intense determination shined through his face as he began pulling away from me.

Yoongi hummed, then there was a sound of shifting and suddenly the man’s breaths were hitting my ear, the goosebumped skin of my neck shivering at his abrupt proximity. “I couldn’t agree more, Hob-ah,” the ginger whispered, but in the quiet office it was still perfectly audible.

The smirk that split Hoseok’s face was completely different from the one before and it frankly sent shivers down my spine in a somewhat jittery excitement.

Both men then stood up, leaving me alone on the table. Before I knew it, I was whining like a little abandoned pup, scrambling to get up as well, but a firm gesture to stay from Hoseok had me freezing in my spot, only a whimper escaping my mouth where I laid.

I watched them as they rummaged through a small closet, each pulling out something else. When they turned back to me, Yoongi was hiding something behind his back while Hoseok’s hand was wrapped around with some colourful piece of cloth. They made no move closer to me though, just stood there and watched me sprawled out on the little table.

I was squirming under their heated gazes, a little unsure and a lot desperate. I just wanted their hands on my body, their cocks stuffed in whatever hole they pleased, but I was so awfully alone there on that little table – that must have been illegal. Fighting the whimpers from trickling out of my mouth, I seeped in my embarrassment and lust, eyes begging them for anything.

“Look at her hyung,” Hoseok started, ever the more talkative one of the duo, “look how obedient and desperate she gets when we take the pleasure away from her.” The older man’s eyes glided over me for the thousandth time, hungry and burning, and I almost cowered from them on instinct.

“Not so mouthy now, are we princess?” he teased as well, in that voice of his that made me embarrassingly aroused.

Within moments Hoseok was back onto me, but now he just grabbed my waist and pressed me into the wood, arms and hips holding me from squirming but not touching me in any relief-inducing way.

I almost whined again when suddenly Yoongi’s hands entered my periphery from above, where he was situated back on the sofa behind me. While Hoseok held me still, the man grabbed both of my hands and started gently fastening a tie around the wrists, slowly enough to let me see what he was doing and loosely enough for me to protest anytime.

But the second I saw that happening, my breath hitch in excitement and I arched into Hoseok’s hands, the man quietly snickering to himself.

“This okay?” Yoongi’s voice was completely serious, devoid of any teasing from before. I nodded, but quickly remembered myself and before he could ask I rasped out a “yes!”. The answering smile washed over me along with a little murmur of “good girl” and I positively melted under them, hips desperately pushing down to find Hoseok’s.

“Are you familiar with the colour system?” the dark-haired man asked this time, eyes trained on his hyung carefully twisting and turning the tie to properly fasten a comfortable safe knot on it. I caught myself as I started nodding again, and instead croaked out another affirmative, pulling satisfied smiles out of them just as Yoongi lightly yanked on the binding and the knot shrank and tightened until it was snugly sitting on the skin of my wrists.

“Anything, and I mean anything, feels weird – don’t hesitate to let us know,” with last comforting murmur Yoongi moved back to sit onto the sofa – my nod must have been enough for him – and as he went my arms stretched backwards over my head. The ginger leisurely held onto the fabric like it was a leash, giving me slight room to move, but keeping his presence known.

Hoseok’s reassuring smile melted into a smug smirk and I held my breath in anticipation, ready to accept anything the man had in store for me. But instead of returning to me, he pulled back once more, the hands on my hips now almost bruising.

In a split of a second I found myself flipped over. My front hit the table with a big clank, almost sending the poor piece of furniture to the ground and knocking the wind out of me. Hoseok released a big breath, one hand pushing at the small of my back and keeping me pinned down, while the other started a slow journey up the outside of my thigh.

His teasing fingers at first only lightly grazed underneath the skirt, caressing the sensitive yearning skin before finally pushing the clothing out of the way, completely exposing my panties clad ass to the room. I shivered slightly, but the temperature was comfortable and I was only filled with overwhelming waves of lust and eagerness.

Hoseok’s hand gently caressed the skin for a moment, sometimes kneading and grabbing at the meat of my ass and lulling me into a false sense of security, before abruptly pulling back and landing a harsh slap on the right cheek. I gasped out a choked moan, whole body jerking forward with the force until my hips barrelled straight into the table. A loud bang of the table taking the hit combined with my noise of pleasure sounded through the room in a strange yet satisfying cacophony.

In this position I could clearly see Yoongi lounging back on the sofa watching us with dark eyes, hands flexing on the tie holding my bound wrists. His eyes jumped to mine the second his friend started administering the chosen punishment, something predatory swimming in them at my reaction. In that moment he felt more like a beast than a man, and one that wanted to eat me whole. The thought made me shudder, but in the best way possible.

I was quite sure that my own eyes must have been dazed and hazy with lust, as I could barely see through the film of pleasure blinding me, and Yoongi seemed to love that more than anything.

“Give her another, Hobi,” he encouraged the dark-haired man, and I realised he was probably monitoring whether I was okay as much as enjoying the view.

But all thoughts of anything flew right out of my mind the moment Hoseok’s hand descended onto me again, this time to the left side. The shock of pain ran through me like a zap of electricity, melting into pleasure as soon as it hit my bloodstream. The vision of Yoongi in front of me blurred as my eyes rolled back, a strangled moan releasing into the tensed air between us.

The next four spanks came quickly one right after the other, alternating between the cheeks and leaving behind stinging buzzing skin, more sensitive with every touch. I felt the burn there, and the ache of my hips continuously ramming into the wooden table also kept reminding me my position. But I didn’t care, too busy trying to dampen down my increasingly more high-pitch desperate groans and moans, before I embarrassed myself too much.

The wetness building up between my thighs was almost embarrassing, and I started to worry any moment I would start dripping down my legs just over a few spanks, and then Hoseok would never let me live it down.

Speaking of the devil, the man switched again to gently caressing the reddened tender area, humming lowly in his throat. I slumped onto the table, whining and whimpering at every soft swipe of his hand, every delicate pinch and handful he grabbed. Yoongi was smirking at me, but stayed silent, giving his friend all the space to do whatever he wanted.

“Look at you, being such a good girl now,” he purred slowly behind me, pushing his erection into my clothed core once more and teasing me with the hardened bump griding into me. The sudden realisation that I was wet enough for squelches to be heard with his tight thrusts hit me square in the chest and pushed another pathetic moan out of my throat. His hands once again pinned me down by my hips, making sure I wasn’t squirming underneath him and wouldn’t try to grind back at him, but I heard him groaning under his breath when he realised the same thing as well.

“All I had to do was spank you a little and put you in your place, and suddenly you’re all out of smart remarks,” Hoseok continued smugly (if a little breathlessly), hips smoothly riding me. I could hear his little sighs and half-moans with every thrust, obviously more desperate for relief than he was trying to let on.

I wanted to speak back to him, but my mind was blank, filled only with thoughts of his cock and his hands on me. Opening my mouth, only thing that was able to come out were strangled groans, and I worried I might start drooling soon too. And even if I did manage to speak, no doubt the only thing I’d be able to formulate would be pleas for Hoseok to stuff me full of his cock and fuck me dumb.

Yoongi was watching me with amusement, like I was pathetic, and the humiliation was burning through me and heightening everything I was already feeling.

“Aw, look at her hyung,” Hoseok continued, “can’t even speak now.” The older man hummed in satisfaction, tugging lightly on the tie and jostling me into paying more attention to the interaction. I put the last strains of brain power into talking back, the final try before I would be too lost and cock drunk.

“So pleased with yourselves, aren’t you boys,” the words came out of my mouth slightly slurred, but the cheeky lilt was still clearly detectable, and I chuckled tiredly, shimmying under Hoseok’s firm hands to try and get his cock closer to me.

To which the man swiftly reacted by pulling his hips away and instead bending over me. I felt the feather-light brushes of his shirt over the exposed parts of my back, but Hoseok never came any closer – not enough to feel his skin, only to have the feverish warmth of his body seep slowly into me from above.

“Be careful what you say, pretty,” his low voice warned me, the words delivered a touch too sensually to fully register in my mind, “that is, if you wanna get fucked tonight.”

“How many spanks did you get, princess?” Yoongi’s question came before my hazy brain could even fully process Hoseok’s warning, but I managed to choke out the answer, muddled mind going through the sharp delicious impacts to my skin.

Both men hummed, pleased that I kept track even without being told to. Hoseok finally lowered himself onto me, chest plastered to my back, skin pasted to skin by a thin sheen of sweat.

“Now, I was considering letting you off with six,” he murmured straight into my ear, “but it seems you do need the whole ten.” Then he was gone, only reminder of his presence was the sudden cold spot over me and the tingles running through my skin where we touched, and I shivered. My hips still pushed back needily, and he let me for a few moments, before his hand was back to caressing the throbbing red skin of my bottom.

The first spank was a fast one, delivering a more intense sting than the ones before. I gasped and braced myself, eagerly pushing my ass out and arching my back. Someone chuckled, and I had a hard time deciphering who, all my attention channelled into the two hands fondling the meat of my ass leisurely.

The press of his fingers into the burning flesh was something I swore I’d be able to remember 20 years from now, the sensation almost classifying as a life-changing event for my pathetic little brain as the anticipation of the next three spanks drove me crazy with need.

“She’s presenting nicely like a bitch in heat,” a deep voice whispered breathlessly, mockery and arousal mixing into his tone, “are we sure this is even a punishment for her?” In lieu of answer only a whiney moan left my mouth, hips shaking desperately and attempting to push back just as Hoseok delivered another sharp blow.

The last two were a little hazy for me – they came in a fast succession and immediately after the calming cooling caress of Hoseok’s hand returned, his voice soothing me with reassuring coos and purrs.

“What a good girl,” Yoongi whispered, tugging at the tie again to check on me. The praise poured over me, replenishing me body and soul like I was a thirsty traveller stumbling upon an oasis, and I slowly raised my head from the wood to blearily blink at the man. I was pretty sure there was a line of drool connecting me to the table, but I was too fried to care.

The ginger smiled at me, looking pleased more than anything, but still giving his younger friend free reign. Said man gave my bum a few more gentle pats before he helped me turn around on my back again, hooking my legs over his elbows to make it a little easier for me.

His face was flushed, a predatory grin spread over his face. I watched a drop of sweat slide down his neck and plunge down the perfect almost exposed chest, and while the man’s hair was all messy from our previous kissing, lips red from the lipstick I wore, his clothes were still firmly in place.

He was watching me with such overwhelming desire I almost melted right on the spot, the full force of my arousal making itself known in a single burst of fire. Suddenly the wetness in my panties became nigh unbearable, and my pussy fruitlessly clenched and oozed more juice in hopes of getting stuffed soon. And with Hoseok’s cock so close to my centre I was going even more mad with it.

“What do we think, baby? Have we learnt our lesson?” he asked me in a cheery voice, the taunting lilt provoking me and pushing my heated brain into overdrive to come up with a swift comeback. In the end I let the lust override the reason and blurted out what I really wanted.

“We think,” I started, my voice all breathless with a little rasp, “that maybe you should bury your pretty face in my cunt.” Immediately after those words tumbled out of me, a blush overtook my face in unexpected shyness. Even now I was still getting embarrassed – I’ve never bratted this much to anyone and I’ve certainly never said those exact words before – it was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Hoseok tsked at me and then looked to the older man while lightly shaking his head in faux disappointment.

“Oh dear, I think it’s only making her mouthier,” some darker breathier excitement crept into his voice, and it had me alerted in an instant, “what do we do, hyung?” The beastly smirk Yoongi gave in response felt like a bucket of ice water hitting me straight into my face, and I realised that they were planning something more from the beginning and I just played straight into their hands.

“I know these types, Hoseok-ah,” the ginger played along, but he was too excited to sell it properly, “and only one thing ever seems to work on them.” With that his hand reached somewhere down the sofa and grabbed a thin black flexible stick.

A whip. He had a whip.

My mind got transported back to before they spanked me, how Yoongi seemed to hide something behind his back. I got distracted real fast after that, but this must have been it.

I’d never used it before with anyone and as much as slight nervousness set into me, it was heavily overshadowed by the rush of exhilaration. With a single look at it I felt my body jerk in response, pussy clenching and singing in praise.

“Let’s see how bratty you are when you’re too busy crying from overstimulation, princess,” debauchery dripping off of him like pouring rain, pelting me right in my weakest points and leaving me gasping and breathless. I very much did want to see that.

A loud snapping of fingers had me whirling my head back to Hoseok who wore a serious expression, only getting emphasised by the obvious lust swirling in his blackened orbs.

“Colour, baby?” he rasped out, hands kneading the meat of my thighs slowly, in a hypnotising loop of thrills. I swallowed with some difficulty, getting steadily pulled into his intense gaze.

“G-green,” I stuttered out, buckling under the sudden aura these two were exuding, like I only now realised that I was in the presence of two domineering men. The slight hesitation before my answer was noticed as well, and while I was merely taking my time to know surely this is something I wanted, the men seemed to be worried by it.

“You sure?” Hoseok enquired again, mellowing out the rough touch into a gentle caress to make me more comfortable. I nodded, hurriedly and a tad too excitedly, drawing a chuckle from Yoongi still sitting behind me.

“Yes. Green,” I repeated, this time firmer and surer to chase away any doubts they could have. Yoongi’s hand started a slow path along the sensitive inside of my arm, his energy shifting into something more predatory and tangible, making sure I was aware of him.

“Have you ever played with a whip before, princess?” the ginger drawled out sensuously, amusement evident in his tone. I wanted to turn my head to look at him, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the way Hoseok’s face crumbled back into lust.

“No…” the word slipped out of my mouth in a whisper. It almost felt like both of them were holding their breath for something, something that was escaping me in my scrambled state.

“Are you excited to try?” came the next question, now feeling Yoongi lightly nose at my wrists, just shy of kissing there, making me shudder under the sensation. I just breathlessly nodded, not having the strength to actually find my voice. The ginger snickered and smacked a loud kiss to one of my wrists.

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll go easy on you,” he whispered the promise and then pulled away again, gesturing at Hoseok to do what he wanted. The dark-haired man happily giggled and immediately grabbed my thighs, spreading them without much preamble.

I squeaked in surprise, hands jerking to go cover myself, but they got tugged back into Yoongi’s lap. Hoseok paid me no mind though, and didn’t waste time in putting his lips to the smooth skin near my ankle, showing off with loud wet kisses trailing quickly down.

As he was descending down my legs, his quick skilful hands found their way beneath my skirt (that was barely covering anything anyway) and started tugging at my panties, dragging them up my thighs to take them off. The wet spot spanned almost the entire seat of the panties and the size of it would be more embarrassing if I didn’t see the way Hoseok’s eyes rolled back at the sight, the excitement rushing through his body on a shudder. At the same time a veiny knuckley hand descended onto me from behind and tugged my crop up to release my tits from my bra.

Before I knew it Hoseok was bending over and had his face buried in my cunt while the handy little whip was teasingly circling one of my nipples. I barely managed to gasp out, drowning under sudden barrage of sensations and body growing confused under the different stimulations.

The dark-haired man started enthusiastically licking around my drenched folds, swiftly attaching himself to my clit and sucking with loud slurps, hands tightening on my thighs and keeping them thrown over his shoulders. The zap of pleasure hit me like a tank and I arched, mouth opening on a silent moan – and Yoongi, the bastard that he was, chose that exact moment to raise the whip and slap one of my nipples enough that it stung a little.

The desperate cry that left my mouth was almost unrecognisable from my voice, but it wasn’t a negative noise – quite the opposite, if the rush of slick that hit Hoseok’s hungry mouth still latched onto my pussy was anything to go by. The man groaned, debauched and dark eyes rolling back into his skull, before redoubling his efforts and wildly licking and sucking at the swollen lips and clit, slowly working his tongue around my hole and pushing in.

While my body tried to cope with the flood of liquid fire from Hoseok’s eager ministrations, my brain was continuously stuttering under the stinging sensation of Yoongi’s whip slapping my nipples in a seemingly whimsical manner. The man of course, once he caught wind of my obvious interest, didn’t hold back and used the little tool to alternatingly caress and lightly smack both of my breasts.

The dual stimulation made my brain melt quick, and soon I found myself to be a drooling moaning mess under the ministrations of two eager demons. I was teetering on the edge of cumming, the heat and pleasure accumulating in my lower belly until it was dangerously close to consuming me whole; and with every little suck on my clit and another hit from the whip I jerked a little closer to it snapping.

But it wouldn’t be them if they didn’t play with me a little, and every time Hoseok felt me nearing the edge he pulled off, roughly biting into the meat of my thighs to distract me with more delicious pain while watching his hyung distribute his own discipline on me.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he moaned helplessly into my skin finally, hand migrating to grab and fondle the bursting tent in his black slacks, groaning in relief immediately.

“Go ahead Hob-ah, have your fun,” Yoongi purred from the couch, the warmed leather of the whip now trying to soothe the sting with gentle caresses. The man didn’t even answer verbally, only let himself slump into me with a loud moan.

Once again he wasted no time, hands scurrying to undo his pants. He quickly shucked of his blouse, revealing the beautiful smooth muscled torso he hid beneath. I only had a moment to fully sink in the beauty of his arms stretching as he pulled his top off before his trousers were pushed down his hips. Sinking all the way to his knees, Hoseok paid them no more attention as he started hurriedly fisting his flushed red cock just begging for release.

Reminiscent of my reaction to getting spanked, I was unwittingly spreading my legs and arching off the table to offer up my pussy to him on a silver platter. The sinful smirk he gave in response made me even wetter (if that was possible), and I released a series of high needy moans.

“Look at our baby, all mute and docile now,” Hoseok teased, smirking up a smug storm, somehow regaining some semblance of a composure. I couldn’t find it in myself to reply, brain mush and hole wet and needy, so I just moaned again. It was so much easier to let myself ride the wave, to let all thoughts slip away and give myself over into their skilful hands – I felt no more need to sass back, I just wanted to cum. The two men giggled, and I heard a tearing of a foil packet, redirecting my dazed eyes towards Hoseok just to see him putting on a condom.

Anticipation ran through me, my horny mind recognising that I would be getting cock inside of me soon, needy cunt clenching and gushing desperately. Hoseok started pushing in practically immediately, impatient and wanting, and I was so wet and ready for him that he sunk in without a problem on the first stroke, pushing a helpless groan out of the man immediately.

I hadn’t even stopped moaning yet when Hoseok pulled back and thrust back in, overriding my senses with burning pleasure – it felt like my brain was buffering and short-circuiting under the never-ending overwhelming sensations. I finally felt so deliciously full, and it scratched something deep inside me, body catching up quickly and erupting into mindless ecstasy. After a few experimental strokes he set a speedy pace, desperately pumping his hips into me, jostling me on the table. If he wasn’t gripping onto my thighs so tightly, I’d probably find myself sliding up with the force of his lust, while the dark-haired man lost himself to my wet heat.

The moans spilled out of him freely, bronze sweaty body rippling with the movements and teasing some abs. When I managed to take control of myself and perceive anything through my own desperate staccato moans and gasps, I saw the man’s hazy gaze, unfocused eyes glazed over with ecstasy. It made my own lust mount immeasurably, building on my previous almost-there orgasm and throwing me headfirst into heady bliss. The scorching heat gathering deep in my core spilled over shocks of fire through my bloodstream, getting more intense with every stroke, with every time his tip bumped into the magic spot inside of me and made me shudder, so close to release I could almost taste it on my fucking tongue.

Tugging on my hands alerted me to Yoongi’s presence, the stagnant whip now moving again, teasingly making its way across my chest and tummy, here or there thumping down lightly to keep me on my toes. I heard his purred-out hums and rumbles at my eager reactions even through Hoseok’s groans and gasps, even through the wet slapping of skin on skin as he pumped into me wildly.

Just when I got used to the feeling of the leather travelling across my skin, Yoongi distributed four quick slaps, alternating between my nipples. The impact made me jerk in surprise before the delectable mix of pleasure and pain caught up to me and poured through my veins and nerves and I cried out on a moan. I felt my body spasm, cunt clenching and trapping Hoseok’s cock into the warm pulsating walls. A loud desperate moan cut through the room, the dark-haired man’s hips stuttered into me, and I felt his cock throb and twitch inside of me – and it drove me fucking insane with need, my hungry wet cunt attempting to suck him deeper and deeper in mindless lust that overrode all rhyme and reason.

His face spoke of inconceivable bliss, screwed into a grimace of a man on the brink of glory, red and sweaty with mouth hanging open, and breathing hard. He stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath, his cock lodged inside of me begging for release. For few long seconds we exchanged exhausted but content smiles before Yoongi became tired of being ignored.

His whip suddenly smacked my tummy, making me clench again and in succession torturing Hoseok further as he tried to stave off his oncoming orgasm. Our breaths hitched at the same time, our gazes trained to the little black tool slowly sliding down to my cunt. It seemed that both of us had an inkling as to what Yoongi was planning – considering Hoseok’s wink and winning smirk towards his older friend while I was filled with dark anticipation, gaze glued to the sight of it rising right above my mound and coming down almost in slow-motion.

The first smack to my clit almost made me cum on the spot, all the accumulated pleasure bursting in a blinding jolt making my body contort. Hoseok’s hips jumped forward, answering the endless squeezing of my cunt with breathless moans. I thought I heard Yoongi chuckle, but I wasn’t sure through the ringing in my ears.

And then everything disappeared, melted out of my head in a barrage of moans full of honeyed lust as he started slapping my clit, swiftly, in a way that made it sting but the outpouring of achey pleasure that made everything staticky and muffled was worth it thousand times. The continuous feeling of a nearing climax mounting in me was overwhelming me, sending my thighs into fits of tremors.

Hoseok started up his pace again – unable to deny himself any longer and fucking into me hard and quick, obviously chasing his high and helplessly losing to the tidal wave about to swallow him whole. As the stimulation of his cock drilling into me and barrelling into my g-spot returned, even through the fog in my mind I knew I was a goner. The wet squelch of my pussy seemed to intensify, signalling the oncoming beast of a climax too.

Yoongi also kept up his antics, periodically bringing the whip down straight onto my clit and making me jerk and cry pathetically under them (though Hoseok seemed pretty lost too). My hands were pulled over to his lap and in my plight I grabbed onto his thigh to gain at least some stable point. I felt his hand briefly squeeze mine in support, the tender touch calming my beating heart a bit. I screwed my eyes shut, head thrown back and body thrumming, just waiting for the final push.

But then Yoongi was back to his agenda, delivering few hard quick hits down onto my clit. My body tensed up, shaking and right on the brink of a powerful orgasm and head full of cotton and buzzing. Hoseok was also losing his mind, hips accelerating and balls drawing in tight, and I knew he was about to cum as well.

All it took was the sensation of Hoseok thrusting in hard a few more times before he burst, cock throbbing uncontrollably as he came with a piercing cacophony of high-pitched moans, and Yoongi smacking down one last time before my whole body locked, then everything exploded in me and I was suddenly cumming so hard I was surprised I didn’t simply burst into pieces. Distantly I was aware that I was screaming out, but everything was muted through the humming and ringing in my ears, eyes rolled back into my skull rendering me blind. I jerked with the waves of pleasure, warmth pumping into me from all directions and pushing me deeper into a dark fog, pulling me under the endless billows of scorching honeyed nectar spreading through me.

It rocked me whole, thighs and hips shaking while Hoseok desperately grasped at me going through the shockwaves as well, still unwittingly pumping into me to ride out the wave. The added sting of overstimulation prolonged everything and made it sharper, making my toes curl with the mind-numbing pleasure.

When the high started ebbing away, I felt drugged, or on the verge of blackout drunk – eyes barely able to keep open, unseeing through the film over them, face wet with drool and tears. I didn’t feel fully in my body, like I was floating above the table and saw the whole world through cotton candy.

Hoseok was saying something, but his words were slurred as well and I could barely hear anyway. He slumped over me, hips finally calm, and by the bonelessness of his form it could be judged that he went through similarly intense experience. I was suddenly hyper-aware of the amount of sweat that was pouring off of us, of our chests rising in tandem trying to catch our breaths and failing at it desperately.

There was some shuffling and then my arms were released, the tie binding them together gone – but they still immediately flopped down, no strength in them left. Someone pressed their face close to mine, ginger locks coming into my view but not fully connecting as I was still out of it, fighting off sleep.

But then Hoseok started moving, pulling away from me and out of my pussy, and I was jostled from the floaty space somewhere in between, slowly settling back into my bones and feeling the content ache still overriding all of my nerves.

The sound slowly came in and I realised that Yoongi was actually gently whispering praises into me, kissing softly along my neck and jawline while “such a good girl” and “took it so well” slipped out of his mouth on a murmur.

I moved my head just enough to see the dark-haired man collapse onto the carpet, half slumped into the leg of the sofa, grinning at me all doped out and still half naked with his pants undone. Yoongi quietly prowled over to the other side of the table, for the first time since we came here putting himself into my direct line of sight. And while his touch stayed respectful and soothing, his starving eyes ate up my messy wet swollen pussy like it was his last meal.

But then instead of touching me more he leaned over for some discarded clothing item, lightly dragging it down my thighs to clean up the juices that got all over me while Hoseok was fucking me. My eyes naturally slipped to the unmissable bulge tenting his black jeans (he must have taken off his hoodie somewhere during the session) and I couldn’t hold back the whine, brain still not quite capable of putting my thoughts together in a civilised manner.

In that moment it was simply unconceivable to me that he’d be left without release, and in a split moment I stubbornly made up my mind that I needed to make him cum, right there right that instant. But the man was cleaning me up, that was simply terrible!

Another whine, this time more desperate and forlorn, finally tore Yoongi from his chore and he gave me a soft smile, worriedly looking at me to ascertain what was wrong.

“What’s up, baby? What’s wrong?” he asked gently, and I whined again, frustrated with myself that it took me such an effort to put together a simple sentence, but finally I managed to sweat it out.

“Wanna make you cum,” I whimpered pathetically, and the man was split between smug smirks and kind smiles – obviously still horny out of his mind but thinking that he shouldn’t push me.

“You’re such a good girl angel, wanting to take care of me, but I can manage,” Yoongi tried to soften the rejection as much as possible, afraid I would take it badly while I was in a fragile state. But thankfully I was steadily regaining all of my abilities again, and I squirmed on the poor little table that went through all this with me.

“Green,” I stated firmly, looking him in the eye, still somewhat dazed but much more present, “Please fuck me too, Yoongi, please. Wanna feel you cum. Want you to use me as a toy.” The compassionate care-taking look immediately drained out of his eyes, and for the first time I was hit with the full force of his arousal. His dark blown-out pupils starvingly regarded me, hands now giving up on the cloth and instead slowly making their way to my stomach and waist.

“Well,” the ginger whispered sensually, “since you’re begging so nicely…” My cunt clenched at those words, slowly coming back alive and contracting almost painfully in such feral anticipation it left me breathless. The prospect of having him buried inside of me hilt-deep was enough to almost make me drool again, and I spread my legs more to him.

Yoongi’s gaze was trained on my chest though, hands reverently kneading the skin on their way up until he grasped my tits, letting out a staggered sigh. But as soon as he got there he flinched away, pulling himself away to fling his shirt off, hands excitedly tearing at his pants and getting them off as quickly as was humanly possible.

“I swear to god I normally put more care into foreplay, but I’m about to fucking explode,” Yoongi breathed out apological, snatching the condom Hoseok leaned over to give him and without wasting any time pulling it onto his throbbing red cock with a hiss of relief.

I only nodded, eyes too busy sliding over his naked torso and admiring his pretty tits and slim waist. He could probably stick it right in now and wouldn’t meet a shadow of resistance, my cunt was so nicely slicked up and fucked out, so ready and hungry for him it was basically begging to get railed.

Still the man leaned over me as he shuffled closer, putting himself firmly between my thighs and pressing his length into my slit while be busied himself licking and mouthing over my tits. His body was curled over me nicely, damp skin pressed into damp skin and driving the temperature even higher, making me feel small and safe under him, and my hands grabbed onto him, desperately whining and pulling him closer.

With a soft groan he finally folded and reached between us, grabbing himself and guiding his cock into my awaiting cunt – and I was right – I was so wet I swallowed him all up and he slid all in on the first try. He was thicker than Hoseok (even though not as long) and hit all the right spots on the way in. I released a pleased little sigh, basking in the feeling of being full again, but the man was in considerably worse shape.

Unlike Hoseok’s unabashed high moans, Yoongi was full of gruff drawn-out groans and gasps while his hips jumped on their own, starting up a slow grind to curb the edge of the surmounting pleasure.

“Fuck baby, this won’t last long at all,” the man giggled somewhat shyly, planting his face right into the crook of my neck to kiss there as he tried to prolong the experience for as long as possible. I released my own little breathless snicker, and that had Yoongi giving me a chastising look, raising an eyebrow at me in signal that he was still ready to put me in my place if I chose to brat out. I didn’t, only gave him a blissed-out smile and rolled my hips with a sigh.

Yoongi only hummed, and I almost expected him to start up some smartass monologuing, but then he was thrusting forward, hard and deep, and it knocked all thoughts out of my mind. The ginger man’s style was completely different from the fucking I received before him – he started up with a slow but rough pace, focusing on jerking into me forcefully and sliding as far as my body would allow instead on quickness.

While Hoseok’s fucking was a chaotic hot mess of quick-paced rough sex that left me breathless, Yoongi plastered himself to me and went unhurriedly but on every heavy thrust imprinted himself deeper and deeper into my core and fully overwhelmed my senses. The ringing in my ears started up again, and I was already overheating with the gooey ball of fire forming in my belly. I felt dizzy and hazy, my little moans and sighs getting cut off midway with the power behind Yoongi’s hips.

He played me masterfully, gradually speeding up, at first not fast enough to have me notice but to have my nerves overloaded with a mounting surge of pleasure. Then he ended it all. With a smirk that I would have found insufferable in any other circumstance (or if I was more present and not losing my mind on a cock) his hand lazily dragged up my tummy, up my chest, teasingly squeezing a tit on the way, before it settled on my neck. Game over town.

I froze, tensing underneath the man, and then I melted, stretching my head away and offering up my neck all he wanted with a whimper and a whine. And with a chuckle he used it all to his advantage, dear god that he did.

“Let’s go back to our roots, princess,” he whispered meanly straight into my ear, naughty lips brushing the shell of my ear while his hand tightened a touch, “isn’t this what you asked for those two weeks ago?” A barrage of moans spilled out of my slack mouth, my mind already burning with the anticipation of the tight hold of his beautiful strong hands.

Yoongi seemed to have pulled himself together a little for the purpose of teasing this out for a little longer, though both of us were already running full speed towards the finish line.

He straightened out, looming over me darkly with hungry eyes as his hand slowly tightened around my neck, lightly squeezing the sides to give me the rush of adrenaline. Any noise that would have barrelled out of my hoarse throat got cut off and I got light-headed fast, with all the sensations running through me with the flow of oxygen significantly lessened pushing me into an almost out of body experience.

The ginger man picked up his pace, delivering rough hard deep thrusts, eyes hazy and reflecting just how close he was to his own climax. I felt his dick throb and twitch as it rammed into my sweet spot, practically pushing both of us into the beginning stages of overstimulation because neither of us could hold on for much longer.

Hoseok still leisurely sat by us, leaning into the sofa and watching everything unfold half naked, underwear back on but pants still wide open and chest on full display. His eyes were darkened in interest, but he looked proper sated and only enjoying the show as a bystander. I noticed the dark-haired man’s eyes glued to the hand on my neck, eating up the desperate expression on my face and the flush spreading over me whole, like he was filing it all into his memory for a rainy day.

A quick slap to the side of my thigh brought my attention back to the man that was currently railing me into the next week, and he tsked at me with mocking mischievous eyes when he saw me flushing under him in embarrassment.

���Pay attention to me princess,” he hissed breathlessly, “you can ogle Hobi later.” That had his friend chuckling and he shuffled closer, settling in behind me. One of his hands slid softly into my hair only to grab roughly and pull my head back, adding the sting of pain to my already overloaded brain trying to keep up with the periodic tightening and loosening of Yoongi’s hand on my throat and the onslaught of pleasure from his cock. He kept my head in place as he leaned in close and started whispering sweetly into my ears.

All praises, good girl, doing so good, you’re perfect and more, all spilling from his beautiful lips like caramel candy and melting over me, sinking me deeper into staticky molases-like headspace.

“That’s right, what a good girl,” Yoongi reiterated, mumbling the praises with a heavy tongue, he himself slipping into the cosmic pull of the promised high, “take what you need, pretty girl, let go.”

And I did.

The build up of the orgasm creeped up on me – there was no monumental wave, no big crash, only slowly rising tide pulling me deeper and deeper without me realising how close I was to getting pulled under.

The constant stimuli of the Yoongi’s hips barrelling into mine, slapping into my clit and filling me so deliciously I wanted to scream and growl, my body wanted to twist under the pleasure but he kept me in place, not giving me any other choice but to lie still and take the endless cycle of lust and ecstasy, his hand squeezing my neck whenever he pleased, letting his presence known and pushing me into the table, forcing me back into the cotton candy hum as my oxygen deprived brain desperately fought to keep up.

I let it all wash over me, fully trying to feel all the sensations at once and getting hit with the flood of good good good oh god yes god yes please until I was screaming under them, body convulsing and cunt clenching on him one last time before I released all. The relief of the orgasm was immense and I went slack almost immediately while my thighs shook around Yoongi, the slick squelch of my pussy intensifying with every helpless pump.

Distantly I realised my own screams and moans while my body shook with the waves and aftershocks, until I went ragdoll on them and nothing but pure satisfaction and contentment flowed through me, mind completely scrambled.

Yoongi released his hold on me, instead hauling my legs over his shoulders and pressing my thighs to his abdomen, hips kicking up in pace. I twitched under him, pussy sore and sensitive but still willing to receive him in all his glory.

I heard the hitches in Yoongi’s breathing, both me and Hoseok watching him from below as he blindly chased after his climax knowing he’s so close it was palpable in the air.

Then a few rough pumps later the man suddenly pulled out, hand tearing the condom away and hurriedly jerking his red angry cock until he was twitching and spilling all over the back of my thighs. I felt his hot cum hit my heated skin and my cunt clenched so hard it was almost painful; at that moment I thanked god it wasn’t enough to get me going again, because I didn’t think I could handle another round.

Yoongi was still grunting and groaning breathlessly, one hand supporting him on the table while he attempted to catch his breath while Hoseok gently caressed my arms and hair to help me come down from everything.

I was too tired to think about anything, I just wanted to sink into their warmth and let them lull me to comfortable sleep. I let them manhandle me into a better position to be cleaned up, but I grumbled the whole time, already halfway unconscious and annoyed at being jostled from the soft floaty space somewhere above this plane of existence.

To their credit, they both tried their best to move me as slowly as possible, both softly cooing at me and giving out praises easily, but I ended up blinking the tiredness out of my eyes anyway and my brain cleared up. I still ate it all up and played up my grumbling to their great amusement.

Moments later I found myself wrapped in Yoongi’s black oversized hoodie, lying down on a comfortable soft blanket on the carpet with a pillow stuffed between my head and arm, while the men cuddled up to me from both sides. Something thin and cool was thrown over all of us, not exactly a blanket, but enough to give me the feel of not being completely exposed.

“You should let your friends know you’re okay,” Yoongi whispered, Hoseok sleepily humming from my other side, and before I could complain whinily about not knowing where my phone is, he was pressing it into my clumsy uncoordinated hands. I mumbled my thanks and blinked through the sudden ray of light cutting straight into my eyes. Blindly I clicked on the chat and wrote something half passing as a reassurement.

Petty bitch: mission accomplished sleeping over

With that I was completely dead to the world – all snuggled up into a lightly snoring Hoseok while Yoongi’s hand tenderly caressed up and down my side, not even realising an immediate answer came through.

Pink nightmare: atta girl :*

“Jesus fucking christ, I might have as well gotten run over by a truck,” were the first words tumbling out of my lips that morning when Hoseok shook me awake mumbling something about putting my clothes on.

Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, but at least the dark-haired man seemed to be similarly ruffled as he tried to stretch out groaning, face puffy and tired. He still giggled at my words though, and helped me stand up.

I did try to put my clothes on, but none of my limbs were cooperating and I ended up fumbling around like a newborn giraffe until Hoseok took pity on me and pulled my clothes on for me as I steadied myself on his shoulder. He was laughing at me the whole time, to which I replied by smacking him repeatedly while whining that this was all their fault.

As we stumbled back into the club area hand in hand, I finally got a glimpse of the ginger man, who was standing by the bar laughing around with a tired but still happy looking Tae. They seemed to be counting last night’s profit and the ginger bastard looked completely fine, a total one eighty from the two of us making our way over in snail’s pace.

Tae saw us first and the smirk he gave us was so shit-eating even I was considering slapping it off his face (a sentiment which seemed to be returned by Hoseok whole-heartedly). Yoongi’s laugh joined into the fray, and we just stood there and listened to them be greatly amused by the state of us.

“Holy shit hyung! What the fuck did you do to them?” exclaimed the other barkeep, a small thin guy with a pretty face and cutesy vibe, who was cackling like the devil himself when Hoseok glared at him, one arm still pulled around me like we were leaning on each other to stand (we might have been, honestly I was still pretty much asleep).

“Shut it Jimin-ah, I might still decide to keep the bonus to myself,” the man by my side threatened with no real heat behind it, and thus was promptly ignored by all three other occupants of the club while they entertained themselves by snickering at us.

Yoongi slowly walked over, face melting into something a little softer as he took us in, the slightest bit of worry worming onto his face. “You both okay, right?” he whispered to us, one hand squeezing my arm and other squeezing Hoseok’s. I snickered right back at him, amused by how he was trying to not show his tender side.

“Yeah, don’t worry, just half asleep on my feet,” I replied loudly, earning some chuckles from the two young guys at the bar, but they did seem quite used to their hyung’s shenanigans.

He lightly squeezed my shoulder before letting go, more serious gaze sent towards his business partner and friend, which had Hoseok sobering up pretty quickly.

“I’m sorry princess, we’d love to have a breakfast, but unfortunately we have a meeting with a potential partner,” Yoongi explained apologetically, and Hoseok groaned next to me, crumbling into my shoulder and loudly fake crying.

“I completely forgot about that,” he whinily complained, arms snaking around my waist like I was his personal emotional support stuffed animal (well, I was stuffed just a few hours prior, soo…), “I’ll have to go shower and change home and it’s across the whole city.” Yoongi looked unimpressed and pulled him from my side, the man pouting and blinking at him in an attempt to garner sympathy.

“Come on Seok-ah, Kookie’s here to drive us and my place is closer,” the ginger man murmured, trying to placate him – and it worked. Whoever this Kookie was, Hoseok brightened right up at the mention of him and started happily skipping towards the exit.

There was some booing and disgruntled “you’re never this happy about seeing me hyung!” screaming from behind the bar, but all fell on deaf ears as Yoongi started pulling me after the man and I barely even managed to shout my goodbyes.

“Kookie’ll get you home, pretty girl,” he promised with a tender smile, looking so kind and gentle it was almost a whiplash from the predatory smirk and sharp eyes from yesterday. Hoseok was already on the street hanging off of a laughing tattooed man.

His name was Jungkook I learnt, and he was pretty cool and obviously loved both men as his brothers, as the teasing and jokes flew between them the whole ride. Yoongi and Hoseok requested to be dropped off first, so I sat squeezed between them in the backseat while I bickered with Jungkook about the best drama currently running on TV.

Once out of car at the given address, both the men suddenly did seem quite in a hurry, but neither of them left without a hug, a kiss and some naughty words exchanged sneakily while their hands possessively grabbed at me unwilling to part.

“Keep the hoodie, princess,” Yoongi said finally, pulling Seok away and pointing at the clothing I forgot I was still wearing, “You can return it to me next time.” They both winked at me and with that, they were gone – disappearing into a very nice high-rise building in a posh neighbourhood.

With a bit of shame and still blushing from their displays of affection I told Jungkook my own address and he took me there gladly, even though he was teasing me about his hyungs the whole time.

It was all over too soon – before I knew I was standing in front of my quite average building, waving off Jungkook as he drove off god knows where, feeling quite happy even if a little lonely after spending the night with the two men.

His promise of seeing me again kept me warm though, and I reached in my handbag to pull out my keys – only for a little piece of paper to fall out. I bent over and took a look at it before bursting out laughing.

Min Yoongi +82 145-5286-036, Jung Hoseok +82 634-1654-220

Those sly bastards.

divider from @saradika-graphics <3

[hobicakess]

14 with sope 🤓. glad your back<3

thank you baby <3

send a number and a member ⭐

cw: fingering & oral ( f receiving ) , mention of trafficking and killing, shitty kidnapping attempt, meanie Hobi, age gap ( 20.28.30 )

Her father was a wealthy man with a good name, big company, and a lot of connections; he had and earned the respect of many and he made sure she stayed drowned in riches. She never really questioned her fathers work, but she knew exactly what he was doing when he came back home with bruised knuckles which she dressed without a word. He allowed the 20 year old to come and go as she pleased as long as she was home before 2 am although she wanted to stay on campus she and her father had an understanding relationship.

On a Monday morning she decided to walk to campus since she couldn't find her car keys. While walking she noticed two men following her to make sure she wasn't just paranoid she stopped at a coffee shop and still they followed her in until she walked out again. Internally panicking she pulled her phone out and called her father and he told her to just keep on walking and he'd be there in 2 minutes.

Still leading the men in circles timidly checking behind her she noticed they were not there anymore panicking again she looked around and around until a van pulled up and attempted to grab her up. Biting the wannabe captor in the process. He let her go yelping as she ran aimlessly till she saw her father collapsing into her father's chest face wet with tears.

From that day on he decided it was time to become more strict. He limited her curfew, she now took online classes, and he made sure she wasn’t alone anywhere without her bodyguards Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi

Hoseok didn’t say much; he just grunted and groaned, while he glared at her; snatching her up when she tripped or stumbled, Calling her a clumsy brat but still checking her body for wounds. Tired of being defenseless She begged Hoseok to teach her self defense after seeing him flip a man 10x his size on his back for harassing you at a club.

He gave in but Hoseok wasn’t the ideal teacher. He constantly knocked her down on her ass over and over until eventually her eyes started watering from the fact that she didn’t stand a chance against whoever tried to harass her again. Her internal struggles didn’t help that on top of it was Hoseok Harsh words.

“your lazy foot works going to get you killed and stuffed in a suitcase”

“Do you want to be sold in a trafficking ring? tch like anyone spends money on you. such a spoiled bra-''

She was in tears on the gym floor. Realizing he pushed a little too hard he tried to comfort her before Min Yoongi came rushing in.

"Damn hope you're too harsh on the princess” he immediately scooped up in his arms. Burying her sobs into his shoulder.

Min Yoongi was the exact opposite of Jung Hoseok. He wasn't mean and pissy with her. Feeding into her bratty attitude, practically enabling it. Though he does pinch her thighs when she gets too out of hand, throwing a simple look her way leaving her pouty and skipping over to Hoseok it didn't take long for you to come back.

Hoseok obviously didn't have a good way with words. His love was tough and rough around the edges but when you crack those edges there was a soft and gooey side of him. Even if Y/N did crack him a bit he was more of an act of service kind of man. Yoongi knew this from years of working beside him...

“Hobi wants to say sorry baby.” Yoongi whispered as he cupped her cheeks to turn it towards said man as he trailed kisses down her neck and forehead fingers gripping her thighs pressing them to her chest, holding them wide open for Hobi's to slot between them. The younger man pulled her panties to the side with the quickness.

Watching him attach his mouth to her clit sucking as his fingers circled her hole she whined, head falling back. Sounds of Hobi and his lewd slurping along with the gushing of his veiny fingers invading her soaking walls. Loud sounds leaving her lips as she bucked her hips onto his face.

"Do you forgive Hobi for being so mean,hmm?" The oldest of the two asked, gripping her legs tighter as she squirmed. "Yes yes yes."

[someoneoutthere-12]

these dark skies,

Characters: BTS - Kim Namjoon - Kim Seokjin- Min Yoongi- Jung Hoseok- Park Jimin- Kim Taehyung- Jeon Jungkook

Pairings: OT7 - begins with established VminKook (Jimin/Taehyung/Jungkook), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi)

Setting: Gang AU - Organized Crime World - Idol AU bc BTS are as famous as they are irl - A/O/B Verse with less traditional dynamics [as explained in the introduction chapter]

Word count: +158K - completed

Summary:

The story of Bangtan—the perfect superstars, the affluent businessmen, the powerful pack and, above all, the broken people. ▪︎▪︎▪︎ Where, Bangtan's Hyungs are leading most of East Asia's Crime World and their innocent Maknaes aren't supposed to know—nor are they supposed to reveal their own dirty secrets.

[basket-of-loquats]

That old crow came back today

sitting in my window like a prophet

out on the fire escape to say

“anger is just love

left out and gone to vinegar”

[Image description: a digital monochrome drawing divided into the three rectangles. The top one has a drawing of Jung Hoseok facing slightly away from the viewer in profile view. The middle rectangle has a drawing of Kim Namjoon looking directly at the viewer, tears running down his face. Most of his face is in shadow, but a line of light runs up his neck and over one eye. The bottom rectangle has a drawing of Min Yoongi. He's glaring up from under his brows, shoulders hunched. He has a scar over one eye. In each rectangle there is text that reads: "you learn to live on less." End ID.]

[havehobi]

my neighbor's secret 🐱

a comic in which hoseok's neighbor disappears, and he finds a stray cat

🐱 master list 🐱

[ 1 ]

[ 2.1 ]

[ 2.2 ]

[ 2.3 ]

[ 2.4 ]

[ 3.1 ]

[ 3.2 ]

[ 3.3 ]

[ 3.4 ]

[ 3.5 ]

[ 3.6 ]

[ 3.7 ]

[jemshopes]

Tell Me Without Telling Me || Ace Sope

--Ace Sope

--slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst (lots of angst), found family, panic attacks, anxiety, etc.

In which Hoseok is touch starved, isolated, and alone at university, and doesn't know enough to realise his disinterest in sex might mean something more than not having found the right person to do it with.

READ ON:

WATTPAD [the first draft of the story]

AO3 [the rewrite, currently in progress]

[prinzkaneki]

suchwita smooches 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨🫧

[flevrry]

jungkook: it's not gay if i want to date taehyung & live with him for the rest of my life but just as bros right?

namjoon: i'm not an expert but it kind of does...

jimin, eating chips: im an expert so i can tell you that's some gay shit bro.

[snowpetaly]

Autumn killed the Summer with the softest kiss

d.j.

Feel free to prompt/use 🧡🍂

[springwithyou7]

Can It Be Guilt If It Feels Like Love? #sopeau

♡ Secret Dating

♡ Enemies To Lovers (kinda)

♡ Yoongi centric

[bangtanagan]

two-star system

sope space au 2.6k, rated G, complete Yoongi imagines this must be what touching the stars feels like—gleaming, burning, everything so much bigger than his body.

The thing about space is that it keeps the cold in. It’s all that emptiness—limited heat transfer, too much distance between the tiny flares of heat that make life go. Namjoon likes to talk about it, solar winds and atomic density and the interstellar shores, like thermodynamics is something you can tease apart into poetry. Seokjin says Yoongi just spends too much time huddled up in the heat of the engine bay like a cat in the sunshine and forgets what it’s like out there for the rest of them. That’s ridiculous, though—if Yoongi wanted sunshine, he wouldn’t hide away with the engines to find it.

“You’re late,” Hoseok says when Yoongi gets up to the observation deck for the third shift. He’s peeled the shutters all the way back, the way he always does when it’s just them up there. Jimin hates it—gives him vertigo, he says. Yoongi doesn’t mind too much. It’s not like there’s an up or a down to worry about in space, just the distant blip of home and the endless sweep of the stars reminding them how small they really are.

That, and Yoongi has a hardier stomach than Jimin.

[read on ao3]

[hopepoint]

Paper Sungrazers

- general audiences | chapter 1/1 | 3k

- book mender YG + book turned human HS | cozy magic

- a piece i wrote for the lovely @/mygcosmoszine on twitter [ completely forgot to post this earlier ]

[fruttolosope]

enemies to lovers sope au in which yoongi is the prince of the darkness and hoseok the prince of the light.

tags: angst, soulmates, fantasy, reborn.

warning/s: death ⚠️ (I have a thing for angst I am so sorry 🙂 you can yell at me)

It’s in the last battle between dark and light when they realize to be in love with each other, right after Yoongi st!abs Hoseok in the chest.

“it’s okay, I forgive you.” He says, smiling like nothing happens. “The truth is I liked you since the beginning of time.”

“Hoseok…” The Prince of the Darkness whispers, rejecting one more time his title.

That damn title.

If they weren’t born enemies by nature, everything would have been different.

“Hoseok..” He says once again, as if it was the cure he needed. Just like repeating gently his name and stroking his face could stop him from dy!ng.

How can he find the right words to say after what he did? How can he fix it this time?

it’s the twelfth time (and the twelfth life) in which one of them d!es. It’s always like that.

It’s their nature. They can’t exist both in the same time. It’s dark or it’s light.

There’s a legend saying that after the last w!ar, dark and light would have found the balance and the harmony to live together, sadly it was just a legend that the Queen of Light used to tell to Hoseok when he was a child.

“Dark and light are not meant to be together, son.” And then, there’s was Yoongi’s dad, King Of Dark and he believed him.

After their twelve lives, that’s the first time they were born again as Princes of their worlds and probably their last time too.

“Stay with me. You can’t go now. You won’t come back.” Yoongi says, but he knows there’s nothing to do.

When a sold!er from the light army stabs him in the shoulder, Yoongi doesn’t fight back. The victory of darkness doesn’t matter if there no Hoseok in his last life.

“I am sure that what my mom told me it’s true, about dark and light.” Hoseok says, too weak too realize Yoongi was dy!ng too.

Their first kiss happens with their last strengths, bleed!ng out into each other’s arms.

“If there’s another life, we will stay together, I promise you, Hoba.”

“I heard the thirteenth’s life is the right one.” He jokes, waiting for the inevitable. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” A promise of love is what they whisper to each other with their last breath.

[A life after]

Everything is going fine in Hoseok’s life. Good grades, lovely family and a future as professional swimmer. So why can’t he explain the feeling of having a hole in his heart?

He has almost finished his morning practice when he sees the new student entering in the pool.

A round shaped face, thin pink lips and a perfect body that immediately attracts his attention.

“You must be the new guy.” Hoseok says, smiling to the black haired boy just like they were old friends. “Jung Hoseok.”

“Min Yoongi.” He replies, taking his hand and showing a gentle smile.

“Welcome to the team, Yoongi.” Hoseok notices firstly his pretty brown eyes and then the scar on his shoulder. He says nothing, but somehow he feels the hole in his heart filling up.

Hoseok doesn’t know it yet, but his mom was right. The thirteenth life was really the right one.

[downbad4yoongi]

Seeds

🥀Seeds🥀

Hades!Hoseok x Persephone!Yoongi

⟢ Rating: MA

⟢ WC: 7.919

⟢ AU: type: Give it to Me

⟢ Theme: Betrayal, crime/mafia

⟢ Inclusions: creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, hidden secrets, long-haired yoongi, kissing, angst/hurst

Summary:

“Yes, Sweet Pea?” Hoseok cuts in.

Yoongi’s scowl deepens, “This is not a date. Also, don’t call me that. Actually, why would you call me that?”

Hoseok shakes his head at Yoongi as if he is being ridiculous. “Because, just like the flower, you draw me in with your beauty. Similarly, I would surmise that you also have a bit of a bite to you just like the toxicity of a sweet pea.”

Part One

Yoongi looks up from where he is trimming the stems on a bouquet that a customer will pick up later as the bell sounds above the shop’s door when it swings open. Seeing that it is only Namjoon, he looks back down and keeps trimming. 

“Namjoon, this is a surprise. How did we get so lucky to be graced with your presence?”

Namjoon scoffs and places a hand flat on the glass countertop that divides the shop, “Could I not want just to come and visit my friends?” Yoongi sets down his trimming shears and gives Namjoon his full attention. He gets more suspicious as he takes in the bespoke gray suit draping Namjoon’s frame. 

His eyes narrow. “Namjoon, you only visit Bloomin’ Cakes when you need something. What is it this time?”

Namjoon attempts to stare him down, nostrils flaring with a deep breath. Yoongi remains steadfast and refuses to back down. A smirk pulls at his lips as Namjoon’s shoulders deflate with a sigh.

“Fine. I’m here for both. I haven’t seen you or Jinnie-hyung in a while, and I need a favor.” Reaching into his suit jacket pocket pulls out a folded piece of paper. “I need a few floral arrangements.”

Yoongi rounds the work table he was at and moves to face Namjoon across the countertop. Yoongi picks up the folded paper and opens it. Yoongi’s brows raise, pushing into his hairline, his eyes flitting back and forth between the paper and Namjoon.

“Joon, this is more than a few floral arrangements. This is a request for fifty funeral wreaths by Monday. What do you even need that many wreaths for anyways?”

“My friend needs a favor, and I told him I knew the best florist in town and that you’d be more than willing to help. He’s willing to pay twice your usual fee.”

Yoongi huffs, “I don’t have the time to make that many arrangements in four days, Joon-ah.” He pushes the paper back across the clear surface. “Sorry, but you’ll have to tell your friend you lied.”

Namjoon taps a finger against the counter's cool surface, leveling a look at him. “Yoongi, you know this isn’t a request. I need you to do this. I owe this friend a lot; he helped me get to where I am now.” Yoongi holds Namjoon’s steady gaze, the silence yawning between them.

Yoongi snatches the paper. “Fine, Mr. Mayor. But you owe me.”

Namjoon grins so wide his cheeks dimple. “I knew I could count on you.”

Yoongi glowers at him. “Fuck off.”

Seokjin shuffles in through the shop's back door, wiping his shoes off on the mat, and is immediately assaulted by thrumming bass vibrating through the entire building. He quickly strips off his rain jacket, hanging it by the door, and maneuvers through the kitchen to push into the storefront, wincing as the harsh cacophony of sound increases when the door swings open.

Seokjin quickly turns down the speaker, his ears ringing in the echoing silence. “What’s with the mosh pit?”

Flowers and discarded stems surround Yoongi, his head snapping up at the sudden silence, a scowl already on his face. “What are you doing?” he snaps.

Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know about you, but I value my eardrums and not shattering our front windows.”

“Stop being fucking dramatic.” 

“Yoongi, my bones, and the windows were literally vibrating with the level of the bass. What’s going on? You only blast the music that loud when you are pissed.”

Yoongi looks down at the arrangement in front of him, going back to work. “And if I am?”

A guffaw leaves Seokjin, his eyes widening. “What happened? I was only gone for a day.”

“Namjoon happened, and now I have an impossible order to complete in three days.” Yoongi drops his shears and shoves the order slip at Seokjin, who picks up the crumpled paper to look at it. 

“Fifty! Why would he–” Seokjin’s voice abruptly cuts off, his body stiffening.

It is so sudden that it draws Yoongi’s attention. “Why would he? What? Ask for such a ridiculous thing on short notice? I don’t know Jinnie-hyung, you tell me.”

Jin’s usually loud tenor is missing with his following words, “Yoongi, you can’t do this order.”

Yoongi scoffs, “Try telling Namjoon that.”

“I’m not joking. You can’t do this order.” The finality of his stance rings through his voice.

“Hyung…we’re family, and I know I let you get away with your big brothering, but you aren’t actually allowed to dictate what I do and do not do.”

Jin’s nostrils flare with his sharp inhale, “Yoongs, this is not a situation where I am being overbearing. I am serious. You can’t fulfill this. I– I can’t go into it, but it’s in your best interests that you back out of this.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, “No.”

Jin’s hand flexes, crumpling the order form in his fist. “Yoongi, just fucking listen to me for once!”

“Until you give a legitimate reason, I am finishing this order. So either help or leave me alone.”

Jin is left standing there for several minutes, his neck and cheeks flushed with anger, desperately hoping Yoongi will change his mind.

Groaning, Yoongi curls further around his pillow, his hand blindly searching for his phone to shut off the annoying bleating of his alarm; he rolls onto his back, stretching his stiff limbs. Every fiber of his being is exhausted from spending the past few days carrying out the ridiculous order Namjoon submitted. Now, after being up late into the night, he’s being pulled out of the comfort of his bed to deliver said order. 

“Namjoon fucking owes me for this bullshit,” he mumbles as he shuffles into the bathroom to get ready. 

Thirty minutes later, he grimaces at his reflection as he rolls up the sleeves of his black oxford shirt and fastens the platinum watch around his wrist. Grabbing his phone, he slips into his shiny, black loafers and leaves the serenity of his home to go to the shop. Since it is so early in the morning, Yoongi is able to enjoy the silence that wraps around him as he walks the few blocks to the store that he co-owns with Jin.

Navigating around the rear of the building, he starts up the delivery van and backs it up to the backdoor to begin loading the order. He had figured it would take closer to an hour to transfer and store the wreaths in the back of the van. However, time seems to be on his side and he has them loaded and secure well before that. Now, there’s only one thing left to do: deliver them to the address Namjoon provided. Which, according to the GPS, is well on the outskirts of the city. Cranking the radio, Yoongi loses himself in the miles and thoughts of just how much Namjoon owes him. 

Yoongi slows down as he drives the van through the industrial park looking for the specific delivery address. The GPS guides him through the maze of buildings and warehouses until he is at the last block of buildings, right against the river. He glances at the delivery slip, not fully understanding why he is delivering funeral wreaths to a building by the docks, and turns down the access road next to a large black warehouse. So far, the drive through the industrial park has been a ghost town, it startles Yoongi slightly to see a crowd of people as he eases around the back of the building.

He catches sight of a burly man dressed in an all-black suit flagging him down and maneuvers the van in the direction of the parking space the man is gesturing to. Putting the van in park, he slips out of the driver’s seat as the burly man rounds the hood with a clipboard. 

“Name?”

“Min Yoongi with Bloomin’ Cakes.”

The man grunts as he scribbles on the clipboard. “You got the order?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he says sardonically.

The man lowers his clipboard. “You gettin’ smart with me?”

With a hand to his chest, Yoongi deadpans, “I would never.”

It’s fascinating how the henchman’s face mottles as he steps forward to tower over Yoongi. Yoongi just cocks his head slightly and blinks innocently up at his red face, hands behind his back.

“KYUNG!” The hulk's eyes flick over Yoongi’s head as his frame stills. “Why are you about to crush one of our guests?”

Kyung’s voice is like gravel as it rumbles out of his throat, “He’s not a guest.”

The newcomer draws to a stop just behind Yoongi. “Oh?” Before Yoongi can turn fully to face the newest stranger, he can feel the weight of his gaze running down his frame. “Then what is he doing here?”

Yoongi’s shoulders press lightly to the cool surface of the van as he positions himself to keep both men in sight. Beyond the slight twitching of his fingers, Yoongi manages to keep control of his reaction to the handsome stranger that has joined them. He can’t stop his gaze from raking over the other man. His eyes rove from the slick, black hair styled back off of his forehead, perfectly exposing the sides of his undercut to the strands of hair that stop at his nape. His eyes bounce back up once they hit the shiny loafers that are such a deep shade of blue you’d think they were black. The impeccable suit is nothing compared to the sheer force of his aura. It feels like it is pulsing around him, making it impossible to ignore the shiver that roams down Yoongi’s spine. 

“You ordered flowers. I’m here to deliver them.” Yoongi finally finds his voice under the weight of the man’s gaze. 

The corner of his lips tip up slightly. “I did?”

Yoongi can’t help the frown that pulls his brows together. “Yes. You sent Namjoon into my shop a few days ago and placed a ridiculous order at the last minute.”

Yoongi hears the sharp inhales of the men that surround them when Yoongi is unable to keep the irritation from seeping into his words. From their reactions, Yoongi is expecting a harsher reaction than the slick smile that parts the man’s lips. 

“Oh, yes. I did ask him to do that.” He tilts his head forward in a small bow. “Apologies. I am a very busy man and the minutiae often evade me. I have many people I delegate to. Let me introduce myself, I am Jung Hoseok.”

The scowl on Yoongi’s face eases up slightly. “Well, if we can get these wreaths unloaded, I can be on my way.”

“So soon?” Hoseok steps forward, just short of invading Yoongi’s personal space. He runs one slim finger lightly along the buttons of Yoongi’s shirt. “You’re more than welcome to stay and join us. Maybe we can get drinks later?”

Yoongi swallows thickly as Hoseok trails that thin finger over his exposed clavicle. “That is very gracious of you Mr. Jung, but really unnecessary. I need to be on my way anyways, I still have a lot of work to complete.”

Hoseok’s hand trails across Yoongi’s chest and shoulder as he eases away and moves to the back of the van.

Yoongi slips away, rounding the back of the van to the sound of Hoseok tsking under his breath. He yanks the doors open and climbs into the rear of the vehicle. “No need for the formalities. You can call me Hoseok or Hope.”

Yoongi glances behind him before starting to position the arrangements closer to the opening to be unloaded. “Why Hope?”

Hoseok is leaning casually against the propped door. “It’s a name I was given. Hope; as in people tend to hope I will put them out of their misery sooner rather than later.”

Yoongi navigates back to the store on autopilot, pulling around and parking near the rear entrance unable to remember how he got there. He needs to get that man out of his mind, but no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts continue to wander back to the interaction that happened between him and Hoseok. 

Most interactions that Yoongi has with other people usually go without significant notice; Yoongi forgets them before the day is done. From the moment he met Hoseok, call me Hope, he knew that wouldn’t be the case here. Yoongi wishes he could put his finger on what exactly it is about this man that keeps ensnaring his focus. While in front of Hoseok, it was easy to attribute it to his looks and style, but what is the reason now? It’s not like he will ever interact with him again.

Yoongi hangs the van keys on the hook by the door and moves into the kitchen, taking note of Jin and the aggravated atmosphere that seems to surround him. Jin is so intently mixing a batch of frosting in a large steel bowl that he hasn’t even noticed that Yoongi is there. 

“What did that frosting do to you?” Yoongi speaks just loud enough to be heard over the low thrumming of the instrumental music playing through the mounted Bluetooth speaker.

Jin whips around with the spatula in his hand lofted, the abrupt movement sending frosting flying, some of which lands on Yoongi’s cheek. Seokjin has varying levels of anger, easily gauged by how flushed his skin is and how stilted his movements become. At this point, Yoongi would probably put him at a two out of five on the ‘Seokjin’s Going to Blow a Gasket’ scale. 

Leveling a weighted glare at Yoongi, Jin finally speaks up, “Well, at least you appear as if you made it out unscathed.”

Yoongi shakes his head bewildered by Jin’s sharp tone. “What does that mean? Was I not supposed to come back in one piece?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t,” Jin snaps.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. “What the hell, Jin! What does that even mean?” Yoongi watches Jin roll his eyes, his chest puffing up. “And don’t give me an excuse or try to redirect the conversation. What is your issue with Jung Hoseok?”

It’s always fascinating to watch Jin move through his scale. Currently, Yoongi is observing Jin go from a two to a four. Jin spins back around and shoves the spatula back into the bowl, his chest heaving as he grips the edge of the countertop. 

“He’s bad news, Yoongi. People who get involved with him, even tangentially, don’t always come out on the other side unscathed.” Jin’s shoulders curl inward from whatever weight he won’t share. “Please Yoongi just stay out of his orbit. I can’t lose you.”

Yoongi softens at the vulnerability Jin is revealing. It’s that vulnerability that draws him across the kitchen to Jin’s side. He rubs his hand soothingly across Jin’s back. “I’m not planning to interact with Mr. Jung again. Don’t get me wrong, I am still irritated that you are keeping things from me, but you don’t need to keep worrying about me.” 

Yoongi stretches as he walks back into the store, his back aching from carting four cakes with varying tier levels into the delivery van for Jin. Grabbing the broom from the stockroom as he moves into the kitchen, he begins to sweep after turning on a lo-fi rap playlist. He lets himself get lost in the music as he gathers the debris into one spot and disposes of it.

He backs into the storefront, keeping up with the beat letting the words flow from his lips as he drags the broom across the tile floor. Easily adapting to each new flow as the songs change. It’s in the brief pause between songs that someone else makes their presence known with a soft clearing of their throat. 

Yoongi jerks around, an apology to the customer poised on his lips; those words wilt before they can sprout as his gaze lands on Hoseok. 

“Why are you here?” Yoongi doesn’t hold back the suspicious undercurrent in his voice as he tosses the question out easily recalling Jin’s warnings about the man.

His hands held behind him, Hoseok cocks his head to the side. “You have an interesting method of greeting customers.”

Yoongi stands there and blinks at him, outwardly maintaining his standoffish vibe but inwardly his mind is a tumbling mess that is struggling to settle. He promised Jin that he would stay away from Jung Hoseok but it’s not really his fault that Hoseok came into their store. Maybe Hoseok was just in the neighborhood? He still didn’t understand why Jin despises the gorgeous man in front of him.

Damn, this man really knows how to wear an outfit; Yoongi can’t even stop himself from openly admiring him. Hoseok’s ability to awe completely in monochrome, this time a slate gray suit, is admirable.

Hoseok smirks, silently waiting as Yoongi’s eyes trail back up to meet his own. A rush of pink perfuses over his cheeks as he is caught ogling Hoseok. Yoongi looks away to set aside the broom, buying time to gather his wits before responding. 

“Is that why you’re here? To place an order?” Yoongi presses his palms to the glass case between them.

Hoseok gives a sharp shake of his head, stepping forward and bringing out what he was hiding behind his back and setting it between them. “No. I could lie and say I was, but let’s not start off this relationship that way.” 

Yoongi’s eyes drop down to look at the two rocks glasses and the decanter of dark brown liquor in front of him. “There is no relationship. And what is this for?” 

“These are the drinks I said we would be getting later. I would have come sooner, but some business got in the way.”

“And again, I said no to getting drinks.”

Hoseok tsks under his breath, “No, you said you couldn’t that day because you had work to finish. So, I have decided to bring the drinks to you.” He looks around, eyes perusing the store. “Although, I would have chosen somewhere with a bit more of an intimate ambiance for our first date.”

Yoongi scowls, “Mr. Jung, this is not a date–”

Yoongi’s words are cut short as Hoseok places a slender finger against his lips, silencing him. “I already told you to call me Hope or Hoseok, if you must.”

Yoongi swallows hard as he removes Hoseok’s finger from his mouth. “Hope–”

“Yes, Sweet Pea?” Hoseok cuts in.

Yoongi’s scowl deepens, “This is not a date. Also, don’t call me that. Actually, why would you call me that?”

Hoseok shakes his head at Yoongi as if he is being ridiculous. “Because, just like the flower, you draw me in with your beauty. Similarly, I would surmise that you also have a bit of a bite to you just like the toxicity of a sweet pea.”

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth at a loss for words. Eventually, he finds them, “Well that is an interesting perspective, but again this is not a date. In fact, I think it’s time for you to go now. For some reason, my older brother dislikes you, and I have promised him I’d steer clear of you.”

Hoseok’s eyes narrow, the angles of his face sharpening. “And do you always do what you are told?”

Yoongi straightens as Hoseok glowers across the counter from him, “That’s neither here nor there. Thanks for stopping by. Have a nice day, Hoseok.” 

Hoseok’s jaw ticks, his stare unyielding, before spinning on his heel and exiting the shop. It is only after he is finally gone, Yoongi is able to release the tension that had crept into his muscles.

If anything, no one can doubt Hoseok’s persistence; since the encounter at Bloomin’ Cakes a few weeks ago, Hoseok has placed orders twice a week for delivery. Yoongi knows he should reject the order requests as gods know if Jin found out, the man would lose his mind. He still doesn’t understand the hatred Jin holds for Hoseok. 

Yoongi’s interactions with Hoseok have been nothing less than charming, and he finds his resistance to his charms weakening with each interaction. With each delivery, Hoseok has found a reason to have Yoongi linger, and honestly, Yoongi has enjoyed his flirting.

Nibbling on his lip, he navigates the delivery truck across town to the address Yoongi has now become familiar with as being Hoseok’s home. He is pretty sure the next time Hoseok asks him out he’ll say yes and deal with the Jin fallout later. Yoongi knows Jin cares, but honestly the man is overreacting. Hoseok has been the perfect gentleman, and Yoongi can’t see a reason to resist anymore. 

Yoongi shifts the van into park at the top of the circle driveway out in front of Hoseok’s ostentatious mansion. Slipping into the back, Yoongi gathers Hoseok’s order, three bouquets of calla lilies, and carries them to the front door. Preparing to use the brass knocker, Yoongi grips the cool metal lifting it but before he can release it the large black door shifts open. 

Odd. Hoseok is usually very meticulous about his security, Yoongi has previously had to go through several layers when he has delivered here before. He nudges the door open wider, sticking his head inside to view the vast empty marble of the foyer. He licks his lips nervously, stepping inside and fully expecting someone to stop him from entering further.  None of Hoseok’s many overbearing staff appear, so Yoongi circles the towering, black marble statue of a three-headed dog in the center of the room and heads toward the open archway on the other side.

Yoongi's eyes widen as every muscle in his body freezes at the sight before him. Hoseok is standing with his back to him, one hand casually thrust into his slack’s pocket and the other steadily holding a gun that is leveled at the man kneeling in front of him. The man’s face is bloody and bruised as he cowers in front of Hoseok, pleas for mercy spilling from his split lips. 

Yoongi starts to back out of the room, his head shaking slowly in disbelief. His mind is swarming with incomplete, confused thoughts, but the loudest one is yelling at him to get out now. He only makes it two steps before his back hits something, startling him into dropping the vases of lilies. The crystal smashes onto the marble floor and the gun that was previously leveled at the poor man is now being leveled at Yoongi.

Hoseok eyes Yoongi, head tilting to the side as he holds the gun steady on him. “You’re not supposed to see this.” He sighs, shaking his head, “But, now that you have…” Large hands grip Yoongi’s upper arms holding him in place, preventing him from escaping as Hoseok turns his attention back to his victim. “As you can see, I now have other matters to attend to.” Yoongi jumps as the sound of the gun firing reverberates through the room followed by the thud of the body hitting the floor.

Hoseok’s arm falls to his side as he shifts his attention back to Yoongi. Slow, deliberate steps close the gap between them; Yoongi goes to speak but is abruptly cut off by the tap of the cold metal of the firearm tapping underneath his chin as Hoseok’s gaze holds his. “Now, what to do with you?”

Part Two

Yoongi has lost track of the amount of time he has been held captive in this lavish prison. At this point, he is positive he could describe in excruciating detail the Aubusson rug that spans the room's length. If he was honest, he was losing steam and motivation to try and escape. He figured out the hard way that the windows were bulletproof and has the sore shoulder to prove it, sneaking out of the only door was scratched as it is never left unguarded, and so far none of the guards seem like good candidates to aid in liberating him.

The thud of the rubber ball echoes through the room as it sails from Yoongi’s hand, bounces off the carpeted floor, and rebounds off the wall to land back in his hand. Frankly, this is the only thing breaking up the monotony of being trapped inside this gilded prison, aside from the silent intrusions from the rotating guards shoving food into the room. It’s been two weeks since he learned first-hand why he’s known as Hope. 

The ball sails more forcefully out of his hand as the images from that day flash through his mind; the look of terror on the man’s face, the ringing echo of the gunshot, and the chilling indifference on Hoseok’s face. The ball stings as it smacks back into his palm, his fingers clenching as he recalls the sensation of cold metal against his face as Hoseok brushed their lips together. He still can’t fully process why he returned the kiss; his mind went into shock after witnessing the brutal act committed by someone he was growing to like and the next thing he knew, soft lips were pressed to his.

The next toss of the ball is just as forceful as the last, but this time instead of ricocheting off the wall, it rebounds off a solid wall of muscle. Yoongi cocks his head as the resonance of the ball pattern changes, and the ball fails to return to his outstretched hand. His head rolls on his neck to look across the room to see a glowering Kyung staring him down, the ball resting at his feet. 

Before Yoongi can make a snarky comment, Kyung steps to the side and holds the door open for Hoseok. 

Hoseok steps into the room and flicks his hand over his shoulder, “Leave us.”

Yoongi straightens from his slouched position on the chaise lounge and watches Hoseok bend down to pick up the stray ball. He refuses to speak, just eyeing Hoseok with suspicion as the man tosses the ball casually in the air and catches it again.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting for so long before checking in on you.”

Yoongi scoffs, “You say that as if I am a willing visitor.”

With a nonchalant shrug, “Let’s not quibble over the details. I would have come to you sooner, but I have been tied up ensuring your safety.”

Yoongi feels like his eyes are bugging out. “I was safe before I ever had the misfortune of meeting you!”

“Oh, Sweet Pea, that is far from the truth. There are some truly unsavory people out there, and they will do terrible things to get what is mine.”

Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief, “You! You are those people! You murdered that poor man without any remorse.”

Hoseok stills, “Is that what you truly think? That I felt nothing for that man?”

“You didn’t leave me any room to think otherwise.”

Hoseok looks away from him, his jaw clenched; the silence stretches between them long enough that Yoongi is nearly moved to break the tension when Hoseok faces him again. Yoongi is taken aback as he watches undecipherable emotions flash across Hoseok’s face. It is enough to plant seeds of doubt within Yoongi as a pang of concern flashes through him.

Hoseok’s expression and posture settle into one of weary resignation, “Yoongi, I am a man who does what needs to be done. Even if that task would be deemed as morally reprehensible. I go to great lengths to get what I want, and once I have it, nothing will keep me from protecting what is mine.”

Yoongi swallows thickly as Hoseok crosses the room toward him. “I’m not yours,” Yoongi whispers weakly. 

A wry smile twists Hoseok’s lips as he stops in front of him. Hoseok’s hand cups his jaw, “Yes, you are. You have been since the moment I saw you.”

He wrenches away from Hoseok and glares at him. “I am not yours. Whatever could have been died along with that poor man; now let me out of here,” Yoongi spits at Hoseok.

“It’s not that simple, Sweet Pea; you’re now in my orbit, and those who would see me fail have noticed.” Hoseok circles Yoongi slowly, “It has become apparent to me that grander measures need to be taken to prevent others from fucking with me and mine.”

Yoongi huffs out a frustrated sigh, “Listen, I have no idea of what you are talking about, and, you know what, I don’t want to know. Just let me go home. I swear never to speak to anyone about what I saw.”

“You still don’t get it.” Hoseok rounds Yoongi again to face him, pulling a slim phone from his pocket. Yoongi watches as he taps away at it for a moment before turning the screen toward him. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they do he snatches the phone from the outstretched hand. His heart rate speeds up as he stares at the grainy image of Jin slumped against the alley wall behind their shop, face clearly bruised as he curls in on himself as the assailant, only a black blur, sprints away. 

“What the fuck is this? I need to go!” Yoongi shoves the phone at Hoseok and darts around him toward the door. He doesn’t make it very far before Hoseok’s grip on his bicep pulls him to a stop.

Yoongi yanks on his arm, but Hoseok’s grip just tightens. “This is what happens when I let my guard down. Someone is out there trying to get to me through any means possible. They started with you; the man you say I so callously murdered was stalking you. I found out and was trying to get him to tell me who he was working for when you interrupted. I felt it was best to keep you hidden until I figured it all out.” Hoseok glances at the phone in his hand, “ I guess they moved on to your brother when they couldn’t find you anymore.”

“If there is someone dangerous out there who is after my brother, you need to help him. You’re the cause of all this!”

A tight smile pulls at Hoseok’s lips, “You’re right. I am, and I have the perfect solution.”

“Which is?”

“Marry me.”

Yoongi guffaws. He’s at a complete loss for words, he is sure Hoseok is joking, but the longer he looks at Hoseok, the heavier the knot of dread in his chest grows. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, Sweet Pea, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“While I’m sure you are equally gorgeous without hair as you are with it, you should stop yanking at it like that.” 

Yoongi’s finger tangle in the strands even tighter, whirling around fully prepared to lash out when the bedroom door opens. The words choke up his throat as Namjoon steps through the door. 

“Joon?” Yoongi’s voice squeaks out. He stumbles forward to embrace his saving grace. Burying his face into Namjoon’s lapel, Yoongi desperately clings to Namjoon’s shoulders, “Holy shit, you found me. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Namjoon is slow to return the embrace, looking over his shoulder at Hoseok lounging on the bed behind them. Joon awkwardly pats Yoongi’s back, “I’m happy to see you well, too.”

Mind still racing, Yoongi pulls back and starts pulling Namjoon back toward the closing door. “Let’s get out of here. I need to see Jin.” Yoongi’s rush toward the exit is stopped short as Namjoon resists his pull, not moving along with his urgency. Yoongi looks back at him, “What the fuck? Let’s go, Joon!”

Namjoon’s feet remain planted as he shakes his head. “Yoongi, we’re not going anywhere.”

Slowly, Yoongi stops pulling at Namjoon’s arm as his eyes bounce between Namjoon and Hoseok. Hoseok lounges back on the bed propped up on his elbows, his foot bouncing idly as he watches Yoongi’s futile attempt to escape. Namjoon’s expression is nearly the opposite, a grimace twisting his lips as he watches Yoongi, eyes full of pity.

“What do you mean? Why aren’t we leaving, Joon?”

Namjoon avoids Yoongi’s pleading eyes as he frees his arm from his grasp. “I am here as a favor to Hope.”

Hoseok sits up, clapping his hands, “Now we can get this show on the road. Did you bring the certificates?”

Namjoon gives a sharp nod, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his inner jacket pocket and offers them to Hoseok. Hoseok unfolds them, eyes skimming the documents, humming under his breath here and there.

Hoseok refolds the papers, smacking the stack against his palm, “Lovely. I thought we could do the ceremony in the gardens.”

Yoongi snaps out of his stupor, stepping forward to snatch the sheaf of papers from Hoseok’s hand. He glances at them, scowling at the bold certificate of marriage script emblazoned across the top. “This is not happening. There has to be another way to fix this mess. I am not marrying you!”

“Oh, I’m sure there probably is another solution, but I am satisfied with this one,” Hoseok smirks, rocking back on his heels. “See, when we are married, what is yours is mine. And you know what happens when someone tries to harm what is mine.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to attach myself to someone who casually defaults to violence.” Yoongi motions between them, “This– we are not compatible; our values just don’t align.”

Hoseok hums under his breath and closes the gap between them. Eyes hooded, lips slightly parted, Hoseok trails his fingers down the center of Yoongi’s chest. Those lithe fingers tease along the waistband of Yoongi’s slacks, the back of his hand close enough to feel the muscles of Yoongi’s abdomen tremble from the touch. Leaning in even further, Hoseok noses along Yoongi’s cheek until his lips are at Yoongi’s ear, “I’m sure we align in more ways than you think. After all, we both want to protect dear Jinnie.”

Yoongi’s breath shudders out of him as he internally processes, struggling with what to do. He can feel his resolve weakening and the echo of Jin's warning to stay away fading in his memory. 

"Say I marry you, what happens next? Am I really to believe that just because we sign a piece of paper that we’re suddenly safe?"

Hoseok runs his nose along Yoongi's, " Of course not, but there are consequences to fucking with me and mine."

"What happens after?"

"What do you mean what happens after? We keep living our lives, but now we do it together. It won't be too much change at all. Well, your commute will be longer."

Yoongi's brow furrows, " My commute?"

"Mhmm, your commute to work once you move into my house."

Yoongi pulls back, head shaking. "I can't move in here and live with you."

The soft smile that was playing across Hoseok's lips falls. " I don't believe I'm giving you an option. You will live with me as my husband. Our union will be real in every sense of the word."

Yoongi shakes his head hard, “Jin would never allow it. This is supposed to be just for convenience for the mess you made.”

Sparks ignite in Hoseok’s eyes as he fists the front of Yoongi’s shirt, pulling him even closer, “Nothing about this is convenient. You are marrying me and not Jin; it’s about what we want, not him. I want you and will have you.” Hoseok’s lips crash against Yoongi’s. A beat barely passes before Yoongi is melting against Hoseok, lips melding with his as they kiss fiercely. Lips and teeth fight for dominance, but soon Yoongi acquiesces and yields to the control Hoseok is wielding. Yoongi’s lips part even further for Hoseok’s probing tongue, his hands sliding to hold Hoseok’s hips as the kiss deepens. The kiss is intoxicating and has Yoongi chasing after Hoseok when he pulls back. “And you clearly want me, too.”

Yoongi’s lashes flutter as words fail him, leaving him bereft of any denial, as he sways on the spot.

“Perhaps a compromise is in order?” Yoongi’s eyes snap open, cheeks warming; he’d forgotten that Namjoon was still in the room with them. 

Yoongi clears his throat, “A compromise?”

“Yes. A union, in more than just name, and unfettered access to come and go as you please, including staying with Jin if that is what you want.”

Hoseok scoffs, “My husband belongs at my side…always.”

Yoongi starts to protest but is interrupted by Namjoon’s noisy exhale of annoyance. “Hope, you have to give somewhere. I’m trying to help. I’m in your debt but I’d rather not force marriage on a friend if we can convince him to join with you willingly.”

Hoseok falls silent, a pinched expression on his face, as he contemplates Namjoon’s words. 

“Three months.”

“Am I supposed to understand what you mean?” Yoongi challenges.

“You are mine and will be at my side at all times, but I will give you three months a year. Three months where you are free to do as you please, and  I will not interfere.”

“None? At all?”

Hoseok nods, “Every spring. That’s a good time for your business, too, no?”

Yoongi can’t help the warmth that perfuses through his chest at Hoseok’s consideration. He gives a small nod, “Yes, it is always the time when we are busiest…Hope.”

The intensity of Hoseok’s gaze has not lessened in the time it has taken for the both of them to change and then meet in the sprawling gardens. The gardens are impressive; Yoongi would love nothing more than to explore every square inch, but he’s currently struggling with not gawking at Hoseok with his mouth wide open. 

Hoseok’s all-white attire is beautiful, but the white bejeweled harness takes it up several layers to breathtaking. Ever since he gave in, Hoseok’s eyes have been filled with an intensity that drives his allure off the Richter scale. The intensity of his attention has remained steadily focused on him ever since Yoongi willingly referred to him as Hope.

The off-white outfit that he was styled in is nothing compared to the exquiteness of Hoseok’s. He is absolutely certain of that, but the way Hoseok roams him from head to toe is almost convincing that he is equallng as breath stealing as Hoseok is. 

Namjoon clears his throat, and the couple’s attention is finally pulled away from staring at each other to the man standing between them.

Namjoon ducks his head with a shy smile, “Well, we all know why we are here, so I will cut to the chase…” Namjoon’s tenor flows around them as he reads their vows, and they each parrot them back to the other. Sooner than Yoongi would have expected, the ceremony is over, and he is officially Hoseok’s husband. His mind starts to run away from him, filling with anxious, intrusive thoughts that are soon to send him into a tailspin. 

Abruptly they are cut off as warm lips meld to his, all thought ceases, and he is melting into Hoseok’s hold. Hoseok’s lips smoothly glide against his as Hoseok pulls him even closer, the kiss gaining momentum as their lips part. 

By the time they part, Yoongi is breathlessly clinging to his new spouse. His forehead presses to Hoseok’s temple as the man dismisses Namjoon. Their words filtering into his consciousness slowly as he tries to regain control of himself. 

The crunch of Namjoon’s retreating steps are what snaps him back to the presence. “Wait– now you’ll get those thugs to back off?” He steps back fingers unfurling from Hope’s shirt, “I need to go check on Jin. Tell him what has happened, and we’re okay.”

Yoongi doesn’t make it very far before his wrists are shackled in the other man’s grip. “Shhh, Sweet Pea, it is all being taken care of. Joon can check in with Jin and my men will take care of the rest.” He tugs firmly on Yoongi’s wrist, pulling him back toward him, “We have far more important things to take care of.”

The intensity of Hoseok’s gaze as Yoongi turns back to him steals his breath. Any protest dies on his lips as warmth blooms low in his abdomen. He lets the other man guide him back through the garden and into the house. They move swiftly across the marble floors to Hoseok’s bedroom upstairs.

Yoongi has merely a moment to catch his breath before Hoseok’s lips are on his again. At the flick of the other man’s tongue, Yoongi’s lips are parting for him. The strokes of Hoseok’s tongue are sure and measured as they navigate blindly across the room to the opulent bed in the center. 

Time slips away from Yoongi as their lips and tongues slip in and out of each other’s as clothes are stripped and littered across the floor. He is breathless as Hoseok pulls back and pushes him onto the bed, the soft, silk sheets caressing his bare skin.

Hoseok stands over him, his presence even more domineering stripped of all the fine threads. His torso is long and trim drawing Yoongi’s eyes directly to the hard length of his cock straining toward his belly button. Yoongi starts to sit up, reaching for the other man, needing to feel every inch of his skin against the other’s. 

He doesn’t make it far, collapsing back down onto the bed when Hoseok’s slender fingers wrap around his own turgid length. His head is thrown back as the other man’s hand strokes him, slowly increasing the pressure with each pass of his hand. Yoongi rocks his hips upward, thrusting into Hoseok’s fist, moans and whimpers begging for more spill from his lips. 

More is what Hoseok eventually gives him, Yoongi’s hips jerk as the slickened tip of a finger teases his rim. He opens his eyes and catches the smirk playing across the other man’s lips as that teasing finger presses in, working slowly inside him. 

Hoseok bends over him, trailing his tongue along Yoongi’s jaw to his ear. He circles the digit inside the prone man, “Oh, I can’t wait to ruin you.” His finger draws back slowly and returns with two, drawing a loud moan from Yoongi as the fingers scissor inside him, slowly working him open.

Yoongi rocks his hips between Hoseok’s hands chasing the pleasure that he is being promised. He is overwhelmed with sensation between his husband spreading stinging kisses across his chest to the tight grip of the fist twisting around his throbbing cock to the deliberate way his three slender fingers manipulate that spot inside him just right. Yoongi is ready to combust.

Without warning, it all disappears, wrenching a sob from Yoongi’s chest. He opens his eyes and all the tears that were being held back, flow down his cheeks, “Why did you stop?”

Hoseok shrugs nonchalantly, “Because I could.”

Wet lashes cling to each other as Yoongi blinks up at the other man momentarily at a loss for words. Hoseok towers over him, looking very calm and self-assured as he leisurely strokes his own cock with long, sure strokes. 

“Pl-please, please don’t stop. I need more. Please, please, please, please,” Yoongi’s voice cracks as he begs but he is so desperate to come he doesn’t care.

Hoseok runs his hands down the length of Yoongi’s thighs. “You have to be more specific than that,” Hoseok teases, his hands cupping the back of the prostrate man’s knees lifting and folding the legs back until Yoongi’s thighs are touching his chest. 

Yoongi tosses his head back in frustration, his hands cover his face struggling internally on whether to give in or to push his husband’s limits by teasing back. The incessant throbbing of his cock has him folding to the other man’s silent demand. “Please, I need you.”

The last word has barely left his lips when he feels Hoseok’s cock catch his rim and press inward. Both men groan loudly as Hoseok steadily pushes in, the liberal application of lube easing the glide.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Hoseok bites out, his fingers flexing repeatedly on the back of Yoongi’s thighs as he pauses waiting for the other to acclimate.

Yoongi bucks his hips up, “Move.”

The simple demand ignites something inside Hoseok. He draws back slowly, pulling little whimpers from the man under him. Tightening his grip on his folded legs, Hoseok snaps his hips forward thrusting deep into the tight heat waiting for him. Yoongi’s hands scramble desparate to hold onto something as Hoseok doesn’t hold back. Hips smacking against round, ass cheeks with each deep plunge inside. 

Each cry from Yoongi drives Hoseok to increase his pace, he wraps his fist around the dripping length pressed to Yoongi’s belly and starts stroking it in time to his cock pushing into Yoongi’s clenching hole. Hoseok shifts just slightly, using his free hand to push Yoongi’s legs toward his chest just a little further, and is rewarded as a scream is ripped from Yoongi’s lips. Each stroke of Hoseok’s length now nailing Yoongi’s prostate directly.

Hoseok maintains that angle, tears leak down his lover’s face as he adds a deliberate twist of his wrist with each upstroke of his hand around Yoongi’s angry, red cock. Between one thrust and the next, Yoongi is arching off the bed, screaming silently into the pillows as he spills across Hoseok’s hand and his own chest.

Hoseok keeps pistoning his length in and out of Yoongi, working him through the orgasm. The vice-like grip of Yoongi’s hole around his cock has him chasing his own orgasm moments later. His hips stutter against the other man’s ass before stiling and spilling deep inside.

After pulling out, they both collapse onto damp sheets to catch their breath, riding out the post-orgasmic glow. Hoseok is the first to move, slipping off the bed and into the en suite to clean up. Yoongi lays there, eyes closed, listening to the other man moving around in the bathroom.

His mind drifts to contemplate if he made the right choice, will Jin and he be okay? Will he need to constantly be on alert from now on? He was so deep in his thoughts, he missed the sound of Hoseok returning. So when the warm washcloth strokes across his messy chest, it startles him and he reaches out gripping the other wrist, preparing to push it away. 

Hoseok arches a brow and silently waits. His look says it all and Yoongi fingers pull back quickly. Hoseok finishes wiping him down before he tosses the spoiled cloth and slides them both under the covers.”

Yoongi curls onto his side facing Hoseok trying to ignore the distracting way Hoseok’s fingers run through his hair. Yoongi clears his throat, “So what now? When will we know when Jin and I are really safe?”

Hoseok brushes the concern away, stroking Yoongi’s temple, “Oh you are perfectly safe. No need to worry at all.”

Yoongi’s brow furrows, “How can you possibly know that already?”

A truly wicked smile spreads the lips Yoongi was just kissing earlier, “Because I called my men off.”

Confused, Yoongi shakes his head not wanting to believe what is being laid out before him. “You…you did all this?” he asks, referring to allegations of stalking and the attack on Jin.

Hoseok pats Yoongi’s cheek condescendingly, “I always get what I want.”

[havehobi]

my neighbor's secret 🐱 | 3.7

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[jemshopes]

Supermarket Jam [Sope]

I'm thinking Hoseok works at a supermarket and usually all the customers' faces blur together, but lately there’s been one that’s stood out. A quiet man who keeps asking him for help finding things, only he’s asked Hoseok to help him find the jam section about five times now (over the course of three weeks), so Hoseok is kind of beginning to wonder if the guy is taking the piss or if he’s just stupid. It’s not the worst he’s had to put up with over the years and neither is it the oddest, but he finds himself annoyed by it.

That is until it dawns on him when he notices the man's flushed cheeks, that the man might just be terrible at flirting. 

The next time he sees him, he decides to put a stop to this nonsense. 

“You must eat a lot of jam.” 

“It—my friend does. It’s not for me.”

“And your friend makes you forget where the jam is every time you come in here?” 

“N-no—well, that’s—it’s—you see—I'm… I…” 

“I'm kidding.” 

“Oh.” 

“I'm single, by the way. Would you like my number?” 

“Oh—yeah. Yes. I’d—yeah.” 

“Don’t be so nervous next time. You’re cute. Anyone would give you their number. Call me.”

* * * 

Or in which Yoongi keeps making a fool out of himself in front of the cute guy who works at the local supermarket. Several times he’s tried to ask him out and every time he’s blurted out that he’s looking for jam. It's honestly a little bit of a relief when the guy finally asks Yoongi if he wants his number because Yoongi was about to bury himself in a hole in the ground and never come out.