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sailoryooons · 1 year ago

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Shadow | myg x pjm (m)

❀ Pairing: Faerie!Guard Yoongi x Faerie!Prince Jimin

❀ Summary: Yoongi’s life has been sworn to Jimin’s since the moment he was born. He was bred, crafted and trained to be Jimin’s shadow, his greatest protector. Jimin loves just how much Yoongi can never refuse him.

❀ Word Count: 6,539

❀ Genre: Dark fantasy

❀ Rating: 18+ anyone discovered to be interacting with this content under 18 will be immediately blocked from this blog.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, toxic relationship, allusions to abuse, references to Jimin hurting Yoongi multiple times in the past, references to Yoongi only existing for Jimin, references to Jimin’s masochism, power dynamics, predator/prey, chasing, sadism/masochism relationship, rough sex in the literal dirt, Yoongi being referred to/treated like an object, blood play, biting/licking, spit play, humiliation, pain play, orgasm control, unprotected anal sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, bottom Yoongi/top Jimin, Jimin threatens various types of bodily harm to Yoongi, Yoongi Has Zero Self Preservation sometimes, there is reference to Jimin cutting a chunk out of Yoongi previously Ed Gein style, allusions to subspace and subdrop if you really really squint, zero aftercare. This content is marked as Dead Dove.

❀ Published: August 20, 2023 (originally)

❀ A/N: This is a repost from Hali After Dark that was done as a filled request and is a part of merging the few selected items I had there, over here. I will not make a habit of moving any other mem x mem works over to this blog, but because this was a requested item from a mutual, I didn't want it to vanish when I deleted HAD. I DO NOT DO TAG LISTS FOR DD CONTENT.

❀ A/N 2: If mem x mem isn't your thing - literally just don't read it. It is that easy. This is not me being a shipper - it is fiction and I do not believe in shipping people in a real-life setting. Thanks.

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

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Yoongi doesn’t want to be here. The breeze has an icy bite to it, filling the boughs of the trees with wind as it sweeps through the forest. He pulls his cloak tighter, dragging his gaze around the shadowed wood. This late in the evening, everything is cast in an eerie black-green light. There’s no sign of anything worth hunting, which Yoongi told Jimin several times.

There’s no telling Jimin no. The prince is as stubborn as he is vindictive, a lethal combination for Yoongi who has grown up at his side. The more Yoongi says no, the more Jimin says yes. The more Yoongi tries to use reverse psychology, the worse Jimin makes it.

Jimin is a prince with gluttonous tastes. He likes to take but never give, to force but never ask. As a child, Yoongi often wondered what had to have been wrong with Jimin to make him this way. As an adult, Yoongi knows that Jimin is far more complex and haunted than the prince would ever reveal.

Still, nights like tonight remind Yoongi that he is often the subject of Jimin’s attention. Being sworn to him has always meant that Yoongi’s life was Jimin’s to own and command. He just didn’t expect the prince to enjoy it so much.

“You’re mad at me,” Jimin sighs, looking over at Yoongi. “Why are you mad at me, Shadow?”

Yoongi grinds his teeth. Jimin is the only person who manages to get under Yoongi’s skin. As Jimin’s personal guard, it’s his duty to protect the prince at every moment, against every enemy, and at any cost, including his life. What he had not anticipated was most of the threats made to his well-being came from Jimin himself.

He looks Jimin up and down. He’s in all black this evening, his clothes tight-fitted for hunting. There’s a spiked, silver necklace around Jimin’s neck, the only sign that he’s of renown in the Court of Thorns. His dark hair is damp from riding through heavy mists when leaving the castle, hanging limp in his beautiful face.

Jimin has always been the most beautiful faerie Yoongi has ever seen. He has high cheekbones and an angular jaw, his siren eyes dark and gaze heady. With lips like pillows and rounded cheeks, Jimin shifts between looking sweet and lethal on command, wielding his unearthly face to his advantage.

Countless fae have fallen to that face. There’s no one who can say no to Jimin, especially when he purrs in their ear in his velvet soft voice, the smell of his honey and mint irresistible. Even Yoongi has a hard time saying no at that point, which delights Jimin more than anything else.

“I’m not mad,” Yoongi finally says. He chooses each word carefully, each conversation with Jimin a well-choreographed dance. “We’ve been out here a long time and I did not rest well last night.”

“Hmm, I should report back to Namjoon to let him know the palace’s most prized guard is tired.” Yoongi’s face remains impassive. Jimin isn’t going to report Yoongi to the head soldier and he knows that Jimin knows Yoongi isn’t tired. “Perhaps they’ll whip you for your inability to perform your best.”

“As they should.”

“Would you like that, Shadow?” Yoongi’s hands squeeze the reins of his horse at the nickname. Jimin has called him that since they were boys in school together, rubbing it in Yoongi’s face that his sole purpose in life was to be Jimin’s shadow and protector, nothing more. “Want to be whipped in front of your peers?”

“If it’s what I deserve.”

Jimin stops his horse. Yoongi sighs and pulls on the reins, stopping so that he’s in front of Jimin and facing him. The prince’s bottom lip juts out and he bats his lashes as he crosses his arms. Yoongi’s eye twitches in annoyance. Jimin does look cute when he makes that face, but Yoongi knows better.

“You’re being annoying.”

Yoongi bows his head. “I apologize, my prince.”

A scowl contorts Jimin’s face. In a flash he’s gone from pleading prince to twisted faerie, his eyes darkening and jaw ticking as he regards Yoongi. Jimin remains silent and Yoongi can almost see the wheels turning in Jimin’s mind. This is when Jimin is most dangerous. Yoongi knows he’s coming up with his next move, wavering between violence and jesting.

For his entire life, Jimin has been unpredictable. He has killed in the middle of telling a joke, he has kissed Yoongi square on the mouth in the middle of punishing him, and he has laughed in the middle of crying. He is made up of conflicting emotions, two sides trying to gain the upper hand. It’s often a tossup of which side will win, but after a hundred years together, Yoongi can usually predict which Jimin he is going to get.

Today, Jimin has driven Yoongi out into the cold evening, demanding a hunt. He wasn’t playful about it, commanding the guard with the steel that the prince so rarely uses. The ride from the castle, through the briars, and into the wood was silent, Jimin’s mood dark and hard to read.

Yoongi thinks about the day before, when Jimin returned from a meeting with the king and queen, a laceration still healing near his eye. Today, it’s pink and nearly gone, a shallow wound for what is sure to be a shallow reason. The queen's desire for pain is not like Jimin’s. There are no rules to her indulgence in pain and violence, no laws by which she operates.

Now, as Yoongi watches Jimin, he sees a twitch in the prince's mouth. Yoongi’s stomach flips, knowing that his neutrality to Jimin’s mood has pushed the prince from sour to angry, and angry to sadistic.

“You didn’t want to come hunting today, Yoongi?” Yoongi grimaces. The use of his formal name sets off alarms. Yoongi licks his lips, trying to think on his feet, trying to work out the right answer. He doesn’t know where Jimin is going with this, but he can see the cunning in the prince’s face. “Speak, guard.”

“There is nothing to hunt, my prince. Anything worth hunting is in hibernation.”

“Get off your horse.”

Yoongi pauses. “What?”

“Get off your horse.”

Heavy with trepidation, Yoongi slowly dismounts. The leather of the saddle squeaks under the shifting of his weight and his horse chews on the metal bit, the sound of grinding loud in Yoongi’s ears. He lets go of the mare and then steps away from it, looking up at Jimin.

“There.” Jimin points at Yoongi with a slash of a grin. Yoongi doesn’t understand, furrowing his brows and shrugging as if to ask what Jimin means. The prince’s grin spreads and the hairs on Yoongi’s arm rise, a tingle spreading down them. “Something worth hunting.”

Fuck. Yoongi realizes his mistake, clenching and unclenching his fists as Jimin drops the hand pointing at him, pulling the heavy crossbow from the saddle. Jimin sets the weapon across his lap and pats the top of it happily, looking up at Yoongi with his brows raised.

“Well,” Jimin urges. “I’ll give you ten minutes. Go on.”

Swearing under his breath, Yoongi pulls his cloak off and tosses it on the horse. Jimin laughs as Yoongi tucks his silver necklaces into the collar of his shirt to dampen the noise as he throws Jimin a scathing look before taking off. Jimin gives a shout of glee as he watches Yoongi tear off to the west, moving toward the castle at a diagonal angle.

Yoongi’s mind jumps into action as he runs. He’s fast. It’s colder now as evening turns into night. The air he breathes in is winter-sharp and the mist has made the ground damp and slippery beneath his feet. Yoongi can easily run over a mile in ten minutes. They’re at least seven miles from the briar wall, which Yoongi would reach faster if he ran straight back the way they came.

Jimin will surely catch him if he goes straight back, though. Yoongi’s goal is to put as much distance between him and Jimin as possible. Jimin, of course, has horses. Distance doesn’t mean much when Yoongi is at such a disadvantage, but the west of the woods is filled with gullies and dells, much harder to navigate on horseback.

As he runs, Yoongi is careful not to leave tracks. He is light-footed, even for a faerie. Most of his life was spent learning weapons skills, behavioral analysis, and court politics. He’s not much for espionage or assassin business, but Yoongi was trained by Hoseok for enough years to develop skills in the art of not being found, and for being hard to trace.

Every one of those skills comes back to him now. He’s careful not to let the fabric of his clothes snag on trees. When he approaches dips in the land, he pauses to walk down them instead of sliding. He knows this eats away at his time to escape, but the evidence of his direction is worse than precious seconds lost to carefully picking his way downward.

There is also the possibility it’s all for nothing. Jimin is one of the finest hunters in the court. His lack of interest in scanning their surroundings as they rode and not following hunting trails should have been the first sign that Jimin was off today. Yoongi had been so focused on trying to ignore Jimin’s prickly mood that he hadn’t gleaned Jimin’s purpose.

Ten minutes pass. Yoongi is well into his run, lungs full of cold air, mind focused only on getting to the briar wall. Jimin, of course, has not said when this chase ends. There is no guarantee that Yoongi will be safe once he reaches the briars, but Jimin’s games always have rules.

The most important rule is that he doesn’t do this to Yoongi in public. Above all else, the prince is smart. It does him a disservice to embarrass his personal guard in front of anyone, lest they think Yoongi is weak and by association, Jimin.

Power is what makes the world go round in the Court of Thorns. Everyone Jimin comes in contact with is a reflection of the prince, who should be like a thorn: beautiful, but deadly. Yoongi must be fatal and strong. It serves Jimin no purpose to subject Yoongi to his madness where eyes can see, so the prince keeps these deviances in the shadows.

It’s this most important rule that Yoongi clings to as he runs for the briars, which are visible from the castle towers. By now, Jimin has begun his chase. Yoongi feels Jimin’s aura like iron pressing down on his senses, burning and eating away at his magic the more he thinks about the prince.

Minutes tick by. Yoongi is not yet tired, driven by adrenaline and a little bit of a thrill. Hot energy courses through him. He wonders if he can outrun Jimin and get out of the woods before the prince finds him. He smiles thinking about Jimin’s face if he beats him.

What bothers Jimin most in the world is losing to Yoongi. In the rare instances that Yoongi outsmarts Jimin or slips from his snare, the prince is venomous for days. It’s worse when Jimin fails to get a rise from the guard, no matter how much the prince goads him. Yoongi’s apathy has earned him more pain and rage-laced pleasure from Jimin than anything else he does.

“Run faster, Shadow!” Jimin’s shrill voice echoes in the wind.

Yoongi pulls up short, turning to look over his shoulder. He has perfect vision, even at night, but Jimin is nowhere to be found. He slows his breathing and closes his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the forest. He can make out normal sounds of crickets chirping and rabbits scampering back to their nests, but there’s no sound of hoofbeats.

A metallic click followed by whistling catches his ears. Yoongi inhales sharply and manages to step back just in time as a bolt fired from the dark of the forest whistles by him and hits the tree behind him. The arrow doesn’t go in far, which means Jimin took the shot from a distance. It also means Jimin is on his feet, and difficult terrain means nothing now.

Cursing, Yoongi takes off again. Jimin’s laughter seems to echo around him, chilling him to the bone. He loses his grip on fear as he moves north instead of northwest at an angle. He no longer cares about tripping Jimin up. Yoongi needs the path of least resistance, jumping over fallen trees as a frantic energy thrums through him.

He doesn’t know what the rules of this game are. He doesn’t know what limitations are on the table, if Jimin is willing to maim him or kill him. Yoongi never knows, and it makes it all the more terrifying when he can’t come up with a sure answer. All he knows is that Jimin hasn’t killed him yet.

Yet.

As if sensing his thoughts, he hears Jimin fire the crossbow again. Yoongi ducks as the arrow shoots wide and over his head, vanishing in the misty night. He swallows, sensing that the arrow had been aimed to kill. Anger flares through him and he tamps it down. No matter how angry he gets, Yoongi doesn’t fight back. Not earnestly anyway. And at least he knows a new rule: killing and maiming are possible.

Yoongi’s life shouldn’t be this. The thought slips in between his focus on running and sliding under fallen trees. He’s one of the best fighters in the Court of Thorns and he is unnaturally intelligent. He should have a higher position at court than being the shield to a bloodthirsty brat, but Yoongi has bent and broken to the whims of Jimin for years now.

What’s another hunt through the woods in the face of hundreds of other games?

Part of him loves it. If Yoongi wanted to turn around and let Jimin pick him off, he could. He flirts with the idea of pausing his run. Of stopping in his tracks and waiting to see if it’ll happen, if Jimin will put the arrow through an eye socket.

Yet he keeps running because he knows that Jimin will keep chasing. Jimin has always chased Yoongi, a cat who can’t leave and let its dinner die yet. Jimin gives Yoongi special attention, and it makes Yoongi preen. No one else gets this. No one else is the sole object of Jimin’s ruthless attention.

When they were younger, the queen thought that it was unseemly for the prince to be so obsessed with his guard. Jimin couldn’t leave Yoongi alone, pinching him on the soft of his thighs, cornering him and demanding to teach Jimin how to kiss, ordering Yoongi to stand outside of Jimin’s chambers while he fucked other courtiers, learning the arts of the bedroom, murdering anyone who so much as brushed an arm against Yoongi.

It keeps Yoongi guessing. He never knows what the day will bring, the Jimin who covets him or the Jimin who tortures him. Sometimes, it’s a mix of both, which is Yoongi’s personal preference.

An arrow whistles. Yoongi steps to the side, but just barely. He feels the sting of the arrowhead grace his cheek, opening up a shallow cut. It doesn’t hurt much, but it does startle him. His foot catches a root and Yoongi shouts as he trips, sliding downhill into a dell as he goes.

Leaves and damp earth make his descent fast. As soon as he falls, he’s at the bottom, buried in leaves and surrounded by the scene of earth and pine. The ground is cold, leaching him of his warmth as he gets up to his knees. He could use magic to warm himself, but it makes him easier to find, his energy light a beacon to the magic-sensitive prince hunting him.

The crank of the crossbow makes Yoongi freeze mid-recovery. He looks up the hill to where Jimin stands at the top, weapon aimed at him. Yoongi’s heart pounds in his chest. Jimin is small and built like a panther, all sleek angles and muscles. He doesn’t blink, staring down at Yoongi, a small finger on the trigger.

This is what the god of death looks like, Yoongi thinks. Jimin is in all black, a terrible cruelty on his face. Suddenly Yoongi feels like the ant underneath Jimin’s boot. He only knows fear in moments like this, where Jimin’s eyes are so black that Yoongi thinks he will fall into Jimin’s gaze and let it swallow him whole.

Yoongi thinks he’s going to do it. It was always going to end like this anyway. Yoongi knew it would always be Jimin who killed him when Yoongi lost one of Jimin’s games or finally failed to entertain the prince. This tortuous cycle has a shelf life, and every road leads to Jimin finally doing it, finally pushing Yoongi over the edge.

Instead of firing the crossbow, Jimin grins wickedly and lowers it, tossing it to the side. The weapon clatters heavily. No sooner than Jimin disarms himself is Yoongi running away. The prince snarls and takes off after him, swearing.

“You little bitch!” Jimin seethes, sliding down into the dell behind Yoongi. “I’ll put you down like a fucking dog!”

Jimin is not heavy or large like Namjoon, but he’s fast and strong. When he tackles Yoongi at the waist, Yoongi feels a bone crack. He doesn’t know where in his body the break is, but pain makes his vision flash as they slam to the ground, Jimin moving to pin him immediately. As delicate as Jimin looks, he’s still a warrior with years of training with Namjoon, a beautiful weapon but lethal all the same.

Yoongi goes down face first. The shock of the pain makes his ears ring, the air leaving his lungs. He gasps and gets all leaves and dirt into his mouth as he maneuvers his arms from under him, intending to push upward to throw Jimin off. Jimin growls and digs his knee into Yoongi’s back, pressing down right on the spine as he reaches forward to pin both of Yoongi’s hands to the ground.

Rearing his head back, Yoongi connects with Jimin’s face. The prince lets out a loud noise and Yoongi grins, wriggling under Jimin in hopes that the pain blinds him long enough for Yoongi to work a hand free.

Jimin’s nails dig into the top of Yoongi’s hands, biting sharply into his skin. “Cease, Shadow. You’ve lost.”

The fight leaves Yoongi immediately. He’s entirely boneless, a puppet waiting for its master to pull his string. Jimin puts all of his weight on the knee pressing on Yoongi’s back, making the guard wince. Jimin’s kneecap is agony against Yoongi’s spine, pressing the air out of him slowly as Jimin lets Yoongi suffer against the ground.

Finally, his weight shifts. Jimin straddles Yoongi’s waist, still holding Yoongi’s wrists to the ground as he lowers his face, panting against the side of Yoongi’s face. The guard feels a shiver go through him, Jimin’s breath is hot as his tongue snakes out to brush against the shell of Yoongi’s ear.

“Much better than a stag,” Jimin whispers, voice like velvet and smoke. He nips at Yoongi’s lobe, teeth sharp against the soft skin. “What should I do with my prize, hmm?”

One of Jimin’s hands lets go of Yoongi’s wrist. Jimin’s touch is delicate and slow, dragging his fingers up Yoongi’s sleeved arm. Even through the fabric, Yoongi can feel Jimin’s hot touch, chasing away the cold of the ground. He squirms and Jimin bites Yoongi’s cheek hard. He goes still and Jimin licks the fresh teeth marks, the ache in Yoongi’s cheek immediate.

“Should I take your body and mount you on the wall?” Jimin’s hand reaches Yoongi’s shoulder and dips down to grab his face, turning him to the side. Yoongi looks at Jimin from the corner of his eye, but he can only see dark hair as Jimin presses his lips to the corner of Yoongi’s mouth and asks, “Or should I just… mount you?”

Yoongi trembles as the prince’s tongue snakes out to lick messily from the corner of Yoongi’s mouth towards the bleeding, burning cut on his cheek. Jimin tsks, running his tongue over the cut. Yoongi wines, the rough drag of Jimin’s done making it burn more. Jimin ignores him, tongue laving back and forth over the wound, the tip of his tongue prodding.

“Did I hurt you?” Jimin coos. He speaks with his mouth pressed to Yoongi’s skin, smearing spit and blood. The switch from threatening to endearing makes Yoongi’s head spin. He is no longer a lethal guard of the Court of Thorns. He’s Jimin’s plaything. “I’m sorry, Shadow. Your face is so pretty, I shouldn’t do anything to harm it.”

“It’s not deep.”

“Hmmm.” Jimin presses sloppy, spit-slick kisses down Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi closes his eyes, letting the prince do what he wants. All instinct to fight has left, leaving only a blank canvas for Jimin to paint. “You’re right, Shadow. It’s a very shallow wound. You can take so much more pain than that, can’t you?”

Yoongi nods. “Speak, Shadow,” Jimin commands.

“Yes, my prince. I can take more than that.”

“Of course you can. You’re made for me. Designed for me. You can take what I give you, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

Jimin bites Yoongi’s jaw, his sharp canines pinching soft skin. Yoongi’s fingers dig into the soft ground. “You bleed when I want you to, you take it when I want you to.”

Jimin’s scent makes Yoongi too dizzy to reply. His body blazes as Jimin pulls at Yoongi’s clothes, his hands greedy. Jimin mouths at Yoongi’s neck, his jaw. Yoongi’s breathing is unsteady, unable to string together enough thought to help Jimin take Yoongi’s shirt off.

The craving to be pinned down and marked over and over until his skin can’t take it and until there is nothing left swells. The shame of Yoongi letting himself be used like this is white-hot, but the pride of being Jimin’s prized possession soothes the burn.

“Mine,” Jimin growls as he reaches into Yoongi’s pants, gripping Yoongi’s already hard and throbbing cock. He bites Yoongi’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Yoongi succumbs to the pleasure, his hips canting in the dirt, the pain shooting him into deliria as Jimin continues to tongue at him. “My Shadow.”

Jimin’s hands aren’t gentle. He squeezes the base of Yoongi’s shaft firmly, slowly stroking upward. The friction between Yoongi’s stomach and the ground isn’t pleasant but isn’t terrible as Jimin sucks at Yoongi’s neck, mouth taking whatever the prince wants.

“Get up on your knees,” Jimin whispers, removing his hand from Yoongi’s cock. He gets off of Yoongi, giving the guard space to move.

Every limb feels like lead as he does. It feels like the world has flipped upside down, making Yoongi unsteady as he gets on his hands and knees. Cool air kisses his skin, making the laceration on his cheek and bite on his shoulder burn. The pain only spurs the pleasure further.

“Take your pants off,” Jimin says. He doesn’t touch Yoongi, happy to watch the guard fumble on unbalanced limbs. “Do it right or I’ll skin you like a fucking bear and bring you back to the seamstress to fashion myself a new coat.”

Yoongi can’t tell if the threat is empty or not. He thinks about the time that Jimin cut a small rectangle out of Yoongi’s thigh to give to the tanners to turn it into a small coin pouch. The coin pouch is probably still tied to Jimin’s belt now as Yoongi sits up high on his knees and unbuckles his breeches, taking them down with trembling hands.

Free of his pants, he dares a look over his shoulder at Jimin. The prince is shirtless, his perfect skin gleaming in the haunting moonlight filtering through the trees. Jimin is a testament to his father’s heritage from the Court of Moons, an ethereal creature stitched with moonbeam threads and filled with shadow watercolors.

Beautiful. Cruel. Hateful. Affectionate.

Yoongi can’t ever recall where it felt like Jimin loved him. Cherished him and admired him like a beautiful piece of porcelain, perhaps. Mistified and awed, even, when he could break Yoongi down and mold him into any shape he wanted, like clay.

Now, his gaze is thunderous. His pupils are blown wide, and when a cloud reveals the moon in full, Jimin looks like a demon from the worst of Yoongi’s nightmares. Still, Yoongi doesn’t run. He turns to face forward, slowly bending over until his elbows are on the cool earth, his ass up in the air.

Yoongi’s cock is heavy between his legs. The first time Jimin worked him up like this, Yoongi had been a shell of himself for days. Didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that being broken and split open into something that felt less than sentient made his arousal swell.

Jimin’s nails scrape against the curves of Yoongi’s ass. He sucks in a sharp breath. Goosebumps spread on his skin, his entire spine tingling as Jimin’s nails turn to claws, prying him open and digging into the softness of him.

Cool wind makes Yoongi clench. Jimin tuts and shuffles closer to Yoongi. The heat of his body is against the back of Yoongi’s thighs, the contrast of hot and cold making Yoongi spin. When cool spit hits the edge of Yoongi’s rim, he moans audibly. He feels the slide of Jimin’s saliva drip further down his ass. Yoongi’s breath comes out in pants and Jimin’s nails dig in.

“This is mine,” Jimin mutters. Yoongi can barely hear him over the beating of his own heart and the roaring of blood in his ears. He scarcely notices the way his cock aches, beads of precum oozing from the tip as Jimin blows air onto the thigh ring of muscles. “Hmm. You’re all tight, Shadow. You gonna let me in, huh?”

Yoongi nods. His head drops and presses against the earth. He smells damp leaves, sweat and Jimin’s honeysuckle scent, too sweet for the demon it belongs to. “Yes, my prince.”

Jimin spits in Yoongi’s hole again. Yoongi bites his bottom lip, trying to control himself. All he wants to do is press his hips back. If he does that, he won’t get fucked at all. He has to be the perfect little puppet, only doing what Jimin asks, speaking only when told.

One of Jimin’s hands dips between Yoongi’s cheeks. He tries not to sigh when Jimin presses a finger against his rim, the pressure so good. Jimin plays with Yoongi’s asshole, tracing the edge before pressing his finger in just a little. It’s both heaven and hell, the intrusion such a relief that Yoongi doesn’t hear what Jimin asks him.

He immediately regrets letting himself drift too far. Jimin bites Yoongi’s ass cheek so hard that Yoongi screams, rearing back his head. In Yoongi’s experience, there are two levels of pain he receives at the hands of Jimin: good pain and scary pain. Jimin’s bite verges on the edge of scary pain, punishment for not answering and a warning that next time, he’ll take flesh.

“I said,” Jimin growls. “To lay all the way down with your hands out in front of you.”

Yoongi complies immediately. Gone is the guard who commands Jimin’s entire personal security team. The sword-wielding warrior who has killed in wars, in protection for Jimin, and for petty squabbles is nowhere to be found.

In his place is a pliable medium. Pressed entirely flat on the ground, knees high, face in the dirt. He lays his hands out in front of him, clasping them there. It’s comforting to hold onto something, even if it’s just his own hands.

Pleasure expands in Yoongi’s stomach as Jimin begins to work his fingers in properly. The stretch makes the eyes roll back in Yoongi’s head. He tries not to get too lost in the feeling, remembering to be on edge for Jimin asking a question or telling him to do something. It keeps Yoongi right on the cusp of insanity, a difficult and rewarding task as he fights succumbing to the way blood rushes through him.

Fuck he wants to cum. Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek, drawing blood as Jimin works his fingers in Yoongi's ass, the press so good. Jimin firmly brushes up against Yoongi’s prostate, making him go dumb. Yoongi’s mouth is slack as he pants, knees and thighs trembling, keeping his ass in the same exact spot for Jimin.

“Look at you,” Jimin coos. “What would everyone think if they knew my personal guard was such a little fuck toy? If they knew he was incapable of doing anything but submitting?”

The question is rhetorical. Yoongi always plays a guessing game of when Jimin wants a response, but this one, he knows.

Jimin fucks Yoongi with his fingers harder, stretching him open. Yoongi whines, feels pleasure cresting to an unbearable amount as Jimin hammers Yoongi’s prostate. The prince laughs, not giving Yoongi the command to come, but rather watching the guard fight it instead. Yoongi’s muscles lock up as he resists the urge to squirm. He stops breathing, squeezing his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he fights it, trying to think of anything but the fact that he’s so close to his orgasm he could die.

If Jimin keeps going, Yoongi’s going to come. If Yoongi comes without Jimin explicitly telling him to, Yoongi is going to experience the scary pain.

Every nerve in Yoongi’s body feels on fire. It feels like he’s burning, burning, burning, like he’s never going to stop. He tastes the iron and salt of blood in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, feels the way his heart hammers in his ribcage, and starts to shake so much that Yoongi thinks he’s going to come out of his skin.

Yoongi realizes Jimin isn’t going to give him permission. The weight of reality crushes him. Yoongi begins to sob into the dirt, trying to hang on to any shred of control he has. Jimin wants him to come without permission, wants to unleash hell on him. Yoongi claws at the dirt, desperately trying not to cave, to let Jimin milk it out of him.

Jimin’s warm mouth presses to the back of Yoongi’s neck. He puts his weight on Yoongi, smothering him, keeping him still. Yoongi thinks this is it, this is when he lets go. He prepares for the oncoming violence like a storm in the distance.

And then Jimin tells him to come. Yoongi’s brows scrunch together. He opens his eyes, trying to look at Jimin. He can’t see the prince’s face, but Jimin must sense Yoongi’s confusion. “Don’t make me tell you again,” Jimin murmurs against Yoongi’s neck.

It’s like a damn breaking. Yoongi shatters, coming hard. His entire body seizes up, the sound coming out of his throat guttural and loud. His vision pulses black on the edges and he closes his eyes, squeezing them hard as an explosion of colors flashes behind his eyelids.

He can’t think. He can’t breathe. He succumbs to the sensation, pins and needles taking over as he shakes through the last of his orgasm. He is somewhat aware of Jimin behind him, pulling his fingers out and running his cockhead against Yoongi’s hole. He mewls, not ready for another orgasm. Jimin doesn’t care, pushing past the clenching muscles and pressing into Yoongi.

The stretch and pressure pull Yoongi from his drooling daze. If he was sensitive before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s flayed open and raw to every stroke of Jimin’s cock pulling him apart. Oversensitive. Exposed, sparking wires.

Yoongi hurts. The bite in his shoulder throbs, his cock hurts where it’s squeezed between his stomach and the ground, his cheek stings, bones ache, wet hole throbs as Jimin bottoms out, spearing Yoongi all the way through.

It makes him vibrate, eyes fluttering as Jimin begins to snap his hips, hands gripping Yoongi’s waist and slamming him back. Every thrust threatens to break him in half, his face and body dragging against the ground.

Jimin rakes his nails up Yoongi’s back, breaking the skin. Yoongi keens, toes curling at the biting feeling, sinking further into the heady mix in his head and gut. Jimin’s fingers wrap in the sweaty hair at the back of Yoongi’s neck. He knows what’s coming next but he still yelps when Jimin yanks, lifting Yoongi from the forest floor to his knees.

Everything feels off-kilter. Yoongi gasps for air. Jimin claws Yoongi’s scalp, making his eyes water as Jimin fucks up into him. Jimin pulls Yoongi’s neck back painfully, holding him by the hair, and presses his lips to Yoongi’s cheek. It’s more teeth and tongue as Jimin continues to abuse Yoongi’s hole.

He bites Yoongi’s cheek and laughs. “Such soft cheeks,” Jimin hisses, punctuating his words with the snap of his hips. “Such a soft fucking boy, huh? So delicate, so breakable.”

“Yes,” Yoongi agrees because it’s true. Yoongi feels made to shatter. Feels better when broken under the small hands of the prince. Feels whole when he’s splintered. “Yes.”

“Can’t even speak right.” Jimin slides a hand around the front of Yoongi’s throat and squeezes. Yoongi’s air supply is cut short. He feels the slow drip of the bleeding welts on his back, stinging as Jimin’s sweaty front rubs against the wounds. “What are you good for?”

“Only you,” Yoongi chokes out.

Jimin’s grip tightens. “Don’t be smart, Shadow. I won’t go any easier on you for flattery.”

Yoongi knows this. He wasn’t saying it for Jimin’s benefit. Because that’s the thing about whatever this violence between them is. It makes Yoongi feel whole, makes it feel like as long as he and Jimin have this between them, he’s made for something.

Without it, Yoongi doesn’t know what he is. A faerie bred by two warriors to give the king and queen’s child a protector to grow with. Whose only reason for existing is to serve. Who has no goals of his own, who has no life outside of the prince. Without it, he’s not Yoongi. He isn’t Jimin’s.

So Yoongi doesn’t say it for his benefit. He knows Jimin won’t go easier. Won’t fuck him softer or let go of his throat. He says it because he means it and he doesn’t want Jimin to let up anyway. He could die like this, no air in his lungs, mind detaching from his body.

Between the pain and the feeling of Jimin’s cockhead pressing up against his prostate, Yoongi loses himself. He becomes a thing made only for Jimin’s pleasure. He becomes no one and nothing, suspended somewhere between life and death, only alive for Jimin to use.

This is where Yoongi loves being most. Here, he doesn’t have to worry about protecting Jimin’s life every hour of the day. He doesn’t have to worry about navigating Jimin’s moods. He doesn’t have to calculate every word out of his mouth at court, doesn’t have to wonder what waits for him if - if Jimin ever tires of him, if he ever loses his position, if he ever becomes anything other than Jimin’s, if he dies.

If haunts Yoongi so often that he wants nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with anything outside of this, as Jimin lets Yoongi’s throat go, Yoongi’s lungs filling with air so quickly that it’s too much, snapping him right out of subspace to the present, where Jimin grabs Yoongi’s head and slams him forward again.

Yoongi’s hips collapse this time. He’s prone under Jimin as the prince chases his own orgasm, feral and rough. It hurts, but Yoongi comes dry anyway when Jimin tells him to, feels the helpless snap of pleasure inside of him. He loses the reality of it for a moment, feels the world run between his fingers like blood.

When Yoongi comes back from wherever it is his mind goes in moments like these, he sees stars. The night is a watercolor of blue-black and lights above him. He hurts everywhere he can imagine. It burns his throat to breathe and his skin is chafed and irritated, covered in dirt and cum and blood. He feels bruised like aged fruit, and the puffy rim of his asshole feels ruined and swollen.

A shadow blots out the sky. Yoongi blinks a few times, realizing it’s Jimin leaning over him. Demon. God. Prince of the Court of Thorns. His dark hair is damp with sweat, pushed back out of his face to reveal dark, alien eyes. There is clarity in them Yoongi only sees after Jimin’s fucked or killed, the calm after a storm.

Tilting his head to the side, Jimin studies Yoongi like a gardener would inspect an insect. Suddenly, Yoongi feels too exposed and soft all over, breaking eye contact as he chooses to stare at the boughs of the shadow trees instead. He feels the water leaking from his eyes, the tears that come sometimes during. After.

Jimin brushes a thumb across Yoongi’s cheek. The guard flinches on instinct, but Jimin ignores it. “Get up.” The command is soft, but Yoongi will find no comfort here as he struggles to keep up with the turmoil inside of him. “I want to go to bed.”

Nodding, Yoongi tries to sit up. His limbs are still shaking and he feels disoriented. Jimin doesn’t help him, already fully dressed in black as he looks up at the night sky. Brushing himself off, Yoongi slowly pulls himself together. Slides back into The Guard, hides away just Yoongi.

Jimin doesn’t rush him. Doesn’t jeer or lash out at him. He allows Yoongi this time of quiet to glue together what Jimin has shattered.

When Yoongi is standing, albeit unevenly on his feet, Jimin turns to look at him. His face is impassive and beautiful. “You broke easy today,” Jimin notes. No reprimand. Just a sheer fact. Yoongi hesitates before nodding. “We’ll fix that, Shadow.”

Yoongi’s mouth twitches at the corner a bit as he nods and follows Jimin as the prince heads back to the horses. Yoongi keeps close, his footsteps mimicking the prince’s, forever his shadow.

#yoonmin smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #yoonmin fic #bts mem x mem #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #jimin fanfic #yoongi x jimin #jimin x yoongi #minors dni #minors do not interact

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vminhoes · 3 months ago

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Order up!

Yoongi hates the wealthy, stupidly hot couple that always come to the restaurant he serves at, with their heart eyes for each other and hands wandering under the table.

He hates them, and he hates that it's because he's so jealous of them.

Little does Yoongi know that the only reason they keep coming back is because they've had their eyes on him ever since they first saw him.

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colormepurplex2 · 2 years ago

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Flowers of Fate | Cedar & Clove

↳ UnseeliePrince!Yoongi x Human!f.Reader (ft.xUnseelieGuard!Jungkook x SeeliePrince!Jimin x WoodNymph!Namjoon) ⤜ Strangers to Bonded Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 24,720 ⚠️ Adult humor, crass language, blood, violence, torture/being held captive, minor character deaths, first-time vaginal sex, not-so-first-time vaginal sex, nipple play, marking/biting, mfmm scene, kissing, guys kissing, blow job, cum swallowing, creampies, things get emotional

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

Everything hurts.

It’s a level of pain you’re only vaguely aware exists. There’s been nothing like it before in your life. Searing heat and biting cold, a combined mix of warring sensations. Even the light brush of your hands and the push of fabric against your skin has you screaming in pain.

“An iron blade laced with foxglove,” Joon gasps, jerking back from examining the wound in your side. Your shirt is shoved up under your breasts, leaving your side exposed. “Vile, utterly despicable heathens! She is just Fey enough for it to be on the edge of killing her.”

After you managed to get out that Yoongi had been taken, Mini and Joon sprang into action, getting you and JK inside. Whatever was on the dining table is now on the floor, cleared off with a sweep of Joon’s arm. You can feel JK lying beside you, the table jerking sporadically under you from his movements.

“Leave me alone. I’m fine! Stop that!” JK snarls, jerking so hard the table shudders an inch to the side.

“Asshole,” Mini grunts. “Yoongi would skin me alive if you die. I was just making sure the wounds were healing.”

The table trembles under you again as JK jerks upright and quickly turns so he can look at you. “I’m not the one you should be worried about!”

“Right. Can you help her? What can I do?” Mini asks, ignoring JK and directing his question to Joon.

Joon moves around the table, drifting in and out of your line of sight. “You have a minor ability in healing. Can you try to stitch the inner tissues? We must stop the bleeding before I can administer anything to combat the foxglove. Otherwise, it will just leech right back out of her body.”

Mini makes a distressed noise. “A very minor ability. But, the sun is up now, so I may be able to do that…it will not be pretty, though.”

“Just do it,” Joon commands, his voice drifting further away. “The wound still has traces of the poison, so be mindful of how long you are touching.”

Your eyes flutter as you try to focus on JK looming over you. “Hey there, Beautiful. I know it hurts, but we’ll need you to try not to scream so loud, okay? I’m going to help Mini here by trying to keep you quiet. Just in case those assholes come back through the area. Is that okay?”

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, slipping into your hair. You’re unsure if you can form words to answer him even if you want to, so you just drop your chin and try to nod, your lips quivering with a whimper. JK brushes tears from your cheeks and smoothes a hand over your blood-matted hair. He maneuvers himself so he’s on his knees beside you.

Mini takes a deep breath before bracing his hip against the table's edge. “You are going to feel my magick, and your instinct will be to fight it…please do not. I need to use it to help.” You try to give him a nod, too, but the pain makes your chin jerk up instead of down, a pitiful mewl coming up your throat.

Joon’s voice grows louder as he returns to the table, “Any day now, Jimin!”

Jimin gently presses one of his hands against your belly. “Do not rush me.” Jimin lays his other hand on your right ribs, just above the stab wound, which is still steadily oozing blood. You make a miserable noise as his hand moves slowly down, and the tips of his fingers brush over it, eliciting a flare of burning pain. “I am sorry,” he whispers before pushing the blunt end of his index finger into your gaping flesh.

It’s agony, a nightmare that has come to life. Your eyes flash wide, and you gag, choking on a guttural scream which JK muffles with a hand over your mouth. He presses his other hand against your shoulder, trying to keep you from thrashing too much as Jimin probes further into the wound.

Even with JK’s hand pressed firmly over your mouth, your screams must still cause him to worry as he speaks out. “You’re hurting her,” he grumbles, cutting eyes like daggers at Jimin. “Can’t you be more careful?”

Jimin gives JK a withering look, slightly baring his teeth. “This is not light work, but I am trying to be as delicate as possible. I need to be closer to the end of the wound if I hope to knit the tissues properly. Now, if you would be so kind, shut the fuck up and hold her still.”

The next several minutes are a bit fuzzy, if only because all coherent thoughts cease to exist in a body-wide short circuit. Your heart must’ve stopped at some point because the next thing you’re aware of is JK straddling your hips with his hands planted firmly against your sternum, forcing compressions against your already aching body. You shudder and jerk under him, eyes blinking rapidly, tongue thick against the roof of your mouth.

“Oh, Seven Hells, you’re okay! You’re alive!” He scrambles off you, making the dining table rock alarmingly as he drops back down on the surface beside you. “Namjoon! She’s back—hurry with that poultice before she goes dark again!”

Namjoon’s warm, brown eyes fill your vision. “Hey there, Beautiful. You gave us quite the scare,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I have something I need you to drink and something else I will press over the wound in your side. They will work together to counter the effects of the foxglove and give your body a chance to heal, okay?”

You can only make a soft noise, hoping it suffices as a response of acquiescence. “I’ll help,” JK says, hopping off the table and coming around the other side. He uses gentle pressure and careful movements to lift you so you’re leaning back on him in a reclined position. “Don’t need you choking on anything.”

The concoction that Namjoon pours into your mouth, with JK’s help, tastes like ripe cherries and honey. You cough a little, trying to work the thick substance down your dry throat. “Water,” you gasp, holding back a gag that would surely bring the mixture back up.

Namjoon steps away, returning quickly with a cup of water JK helps you to drink. Your shirt is still tucked under your breasts, giving Namjoon easy access to dress the wound with an earthy-smelling paste. “Mini was able to knit the inner flesh back together fairly nicely, if I do say so myself. The scar should be minimal, but we must ensure that your system is free of foxglove before we go planting new seeds. It is a good thing you are still so new to the bond. If this were anyone else, I do not know that we could have helped.” He gives a cursory glance in JK’s direction, his eyes lingering on the black stain of blood crusting the shoulder of his shirt. “You should let me place some of this on your shoulder, too.”

JK wrinkles his nose. “Nah, I’m good. It was just a scrape. Piss poor shot on their part. Lucky for me. I’m healing just fine.”

“Stubborn as always,” Namjoon murmurs, offering you a strained smile as he begins smearing the thick paste on your side. He wraps your middle with a stretch of linen to keep the medicine in place. “Let us get her into bed to rest, JK. Then you can share with us what exactly happened so we can decide what to do next.”

The pain in your side subsides substantially, reduced to a soft, throbbing ache. “Where is Mini?” you mumble, realizing he’s nowhere to be seen as JK slides his arms around you to carry you to the bedroom.

The shoulder under your arm kicks up slightly in indifference. “Outside, I think. Joon will get him, don’t worry about that asshole. How are you feeling now?”

You wince as he takes your weight off the table, your side pinching with the movement. “Better, I think. What was that, exactly?” You gesture vaguely with your other hand toward your exposed middle.

“Iron dagger infused with foxglove essence. Nasty business, meant for killing. If you hadn’t stepped in front of me…” JK trails off, clearly uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he finally whispers. “You saved my life. I probably don’t deserve it, considering I let them take him.”

Everything is still a bit blurry. It all happened so fast. “You didn’t let them do anything. We’ll get him back,” you swear to JK as he settles you on the bed, tucking you under the sheets and propping the pillows behind you. “I can—I can feel him. But, there’s something there, something in the way.” You press trembling fingers over your heart. “It’s like a thick fog is separating us.”

“But he’s okay, right? I shouldn’t have listened to him.” The desperation in JK’s voice has your eyes watering, your nose burning as you try not to choke on the palpable emotional dread in the air.

You want to tell him yes, but you can’t bring yourself to lie or instill a sense of false hope. “I-I don’t know if he’s okay. Alive, yes, but…” you trail off, swallowing down the bitter taste of uncertainty.

JK grunts, dropping his eyes from yours and picking at the skin around his fingernails. “Well, at least there’s that. It’s got to be enough for now.”

Jimin clears his throat from the doorway, drawing your and JK’s attention. “Feeling well enough to talk?”

Throwing a tired hand up, JK gestures for Jimin and Namjoon to enter the room. Namjoon perches on the edge of the bed with a bowl of water and a cloth in one hand, and Jimin chooses to stand at the end of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are guarded, flicking around the room like he’s avoiding looking at you.

“Take your time, both of you. You might feel well enough to talk, but your energies could wane quickly as your adrenaline tapers off.” Namjoon gestures with his free hand at the bowl of water. “I will clean you up the best I can while you two tell us what happened.”

JK looks at you, raising his eyebrows in silent question. “I can start,” you assure him, reaching out and gripping one of his hands. His fingers thread through yours, anchoring you in the present as you recall what you can of what happened. “We had just crossed the boundary into the Unseelie territory. They came out of nowhere, had to have been hundreds of them, all armed to the teeth. Like something out of a horror fantasy movie, bristling arrows and long pikes.” You shake away the mental image of all that glinting iron and steel. “Yoongi was ahead of us by a few paces. The moment he realized what was happening, he…he—“

“He told me to take her and run,” JK picks up for you as Namjoon begins to clean the dried blood from your face and, as best as he can, from your hair. “That swamp bitch came swooping in on a fucking wyvern. The moon was blotted out in the sky as it descended on us. Yoongi knew if we were all caught, it would be the end of everything. He tried to harness his magick, but I watched as it sparked and jetted from him like a maelstrom of unchecked power. We should have listened!” he snarls, gripping your hand tighter. “We should have listened to you. I’m so sorry we didn’t.” His eyes are rounded with regret and pain as he looks up at you before it morphs back into anger. “I’ll never forgive myself. I have to leave. Now! I’m sure I can make it to the castle undetected. I can be in and—“

You shake your head, interrupting Namjoon’s cleaning. “No. No, no, no. Think rationally here! There was no way to know things would go so badly, not like that. It is no one's fault. And you’ll just make matters worse by going off hot-headed and getting yourself taken, too!”

“So, you just let them have him?” The question is eerily quiet but no less acidic. Jimin’s chest is rising and falling with a barely restrained rage. “How could you not want to fight for him!?”

“What? No, of course not! It’s not like we wanted—”

Letting go of your hand, JK jumps up off the bed and rounds the corner, coming chest to chest with Jimin. The motion is so abrupt it cuts off your response. “Are you not listening? Have you not heard a single thing we’ve just said!? She's right, despite how much I want to go after him now! Put aside your hatred for one fucking second and think with your head instead of your heart! We know that Chaddick won’t kill him, not yet. But if he got his hands on me, or Seven Hells forbid, got his hands on her,” he throws a hand out toward you on the bed, “it would have been near-instant death, tortured in front of Yoongi surely. Which, in turn, could kill him for all we know! You’re not stupid, Mini. You know the power of a mated bond! We have to be careful, or we could lose him forever.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything in response. He stares at JK before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. JK moves to follow, but you call him back. “It’s not worth it right now, JK. Let him be.”

“So, what do we do now?” Namjoon asks into the silence. He sets aside the bowl and cloth, having done as much as possible without putting you in the bath.

JK glares at the door and then turns to face you and Namjoon. “I don’t think we should treat this as a rescue mission. We should approach it like it’s the same mission as before. We continue to target Chaddick. If we can get into the castle and take him out, or at least take out Borgia, then we increase our odds of rescuing Yoongi. But first, we need information. We need to know what’s going on in that castle. Do you think the bond could help us?” He looks at you, a hopeful expression on his face.

“I wish I knew more about how to use it. Do either of you know?”

“I have a few books tucked away that might be able to help. I acquired them over the years in hopes they could serve Yoongi once he bonded. One can never be too prepared, after all. Perhaps next time, I will insist he read a book or two before going off on an unknown adventure,” Namjoon declares, clapping his hands lightly before excusing himself from the room to pull out the books.

“Are you okay?” you hesitate to ask JK, unsure of his current temper.

The concern in your voice deflates him a bit, taking the bite out of his voice. “I’m a failure for letting this happen. I should have scouted ahead, been the one in front, something…fuck.”

“We can talk about that until we’re blue in the face. What I mean is, are you actually okay? You wouldn’t let Joon put anything on your shoulder. I know you were injured. I could feel how you limped as you helped carry me back to the clearing.” You aim for gentle yet firm, needing to know he’s wholly okay but not wanting to push him.

He blows out his cheeks, chuckling softly. “The glory of being Fey,” he says before grabbing the bottom of his heavily soiled shirt, pulling it over his head, and dropping it to the floor.

“Oh,” is all you can manage as your eyes hastily sweep the expanse of his chest and shoulders before dropping to your lap.

You can see JK standing in your periphery, looking over his body in the firelight. “These will be no more than slightly puckered scars by the end of the day. The shoulder is a bit more sensitive, but thankfully it’s not my fighting arm, so it can afford to be a bit tender for a few more days.”

“Fighting arm? You think you’ll need to fight soon?” You glance up at him, watching as he scoops the shirt back up, studies a few of the stains, and unceremoniously tosses it into the fireplace, where it catches instantly and blazes brightly.

His good arm pushes up in a shrug. “Possibly. It depends on what Joon has in those books. I might have to try to sneak in if we can’t find any alternatives. I won’t let him suffer in there for longer than I have to.” He nods toward the door. “I’m going to go clean up. Do you need anything before I go?”

You shake your head, and he disappears out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It doesn’t take long before your thoughts have circled back through the conversations, and you’re tugging the blankets to the side. You stare at the white linen wrapped around your middle. Your side still smarts, pinching with pain if you move too much. Namjoon didn’t tell you how long you’d have to rest or wait until you could remove the wrap. You freeze, fingers poised over your middle as you realize what thought just crossed your mind.

Namjoon.

You know his name—his real name. JK said it earlier in a panic. You focus hard on all the feelings in your chest and the knots you now associate with being tethered to a fae in this realm. There isn’t a new one, nothing that feels like it’s directly attached to Namjoon or that you have some sort of power over him. Thinking back over the snatches of conversation again, you realize there’s something else you know…

Tossing back the rest of the sheets, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and take a deep breath before pushing up to stand. As your side protests, you blow out a slow, shaky breath to keep yourself from sitting back down and crawling under the blankets. After standing a few moments, letting the lightheadedness and spots dotting your vision disappear, you creep slowly across the room.

You peek through the crack JK left and scan the living space. Namjoon has his back to you, hunched over in front of the fire with a book in his hands, muttering to himself. You slip out of the bedroom. Thankful someone had the forethought to remove your boots sometime earlier, so you’re quiet as you pad across to the door.

If Namjoon hears you opening and closing the front door, he doesn’t voice it. The sun is high overhead, bathing the clearing in warm light. “I was hoping you were still here,” you express, approaching the figure sitting on the lip of the porch, absently peeling a basket of potatoes with a small paring knife.

“Joon would box my ears if I left without so much as a goodbye,” comes the weary reply. You ease down beside him, holding a hand to your side and trying not to gasp with every stitch. “You really should be resting right now.”

“I wanted to say thank you.”

Guarded turquoise eyes slide your way. “Well, you have said it. Though, there is no need to thank me. Seven Suns know I do not deserve your gratitude.”

“You helped save my life. To me, that deserves probably the most gratitude anyone can deserve.” It’s hard to tell if he’s being self-critical or just obtuse.

He makes an unintelligible noise of frustration, hunching his shoulders and violently freeing a potato of a few inches of skin. “I nearly killed you,” he bites, mangling the rest of the vegetable with a few jerking flicks of the knife.

“What? No, that’s—“

“Do not presume to know more about magick than I do!” he interrupts, rounding on you with wide eyes and a firm frown. “It is my pitiful ability in healing that had your heart stopping. If it were not for JK being familiar with restarting a human heart, you very well would have remained that way. Dead. By my hands. Yoongi would never forgive me.”

“Jimin,” you whisper, wanting to comfort him but unsure how to proceed. You’re so caught up in your own emotional process that his real name spills from your lips before you can wrangle it back down your throat.

The new potato in his hand tumbles into the basket, half-peeled. The paring knife follows, thumping hollowly against the mound of raw vegetables. “‘What did you call me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” You clamp a hand over your mouth, wishing you could take it back. This is not how you wanted to have this conversation. When you first came outside, it was your intention to be honest and reveal what you overheard, but the conversation took a different route. One that had you tucking that knowledge away for another time. “Jimin.”

He shivers in response, a full body tremor with his eyes closing, fists clenching, and his lips curling back to expose his teeth. “How? Who told you?”

“Well, no one, technically. Namjoon said it in a moment of panic,” he freezes at the mention of Namjoon’s real name, “and JK said Namjoon’s name in much the same way. But…don’t worry. It’s different somehow. I’m not sure why it’s different, but it is.”

Jimin’s eyes spring open, locking onto you with thinly-veiled suspicion. “Different?”

“Yeah. It’s not like Yoongi. I don’t feel like I have any power over you by knowing your full name. Is it because you didn’t tell me yourself? Is that part of it?”

His mouth works like he’s trying to form words, but nothing comes out. You watch as he wilts slowly, shoulder sagging and hunching forward. “I do not know. It could be that. Though that has never been the case before, to my knowledge, it could be something else…such as your bond to Yoongi and the fact that you are now slowly becoming Fey yourself.”

“It wasn’t my intention to alarm you like that. I just wanted you to know that I know and…that I don’t have any sort of power over you with it. Just being transparent, trying to earn some of your trust. This isn’t how I envisioned the conversation going, though.”

There is a look in Jimin’s eyes that you’re not sure you understand. “If you did have power over me…would you use it?”

You want to immediately say no, that you wouldn’t dare exert control over him like that, but you consider for a moment and shrug, wanting to try and lighten the mood considerably. “Maybe.” He balks at you, but you shake your head with a gentle smile. “But only so I could make you see reason right now. I know you’re upset, and it might be easy to blame yourself for what happened to me or to blame me and JK for what happened to Yoongi, but the person you should be directing your anger at is the one that ambushed us and took him. They are responsible for what happened to me and Yoongi’s current absence. Focus your anger in the right place. Help us find a way to save him instead of wasting energy being pissed at yourself and us.”

The abrupt laugh that Jimin lets out startles you, making you laugh nervously along with him. “Seven Suns,” he huffs with a sigh. “I have been a nightmare, have I not? Please know I am not so much angry with you or JK. It is really the whole situation. However, I am obscenely upset with myself. If I had only listened to you instead of seeing you as nothing more than an enemy…it would have been different.”

“You’ve not exactly been sunshine and rainbows, that’s for sure. But it’s with reason, I believe. Or at least, I think I understand.” You pause, considering what words to use to express your thoughts adequately. “I can’t even begin to pretend to understand what you and Yoongi have. He is still a stranger to me when you break it down to a base level. Sure, a stranger I’m pretty much married to, but still a stranger. We haven’t had sixty years to get to know each other and build that bond. But I can feel the way he loves you. And even if I didn’t have a front-row seat to his emotions, I’d still be able to see how much he loves you by how he looks at you alone.”

He gives you a quizzical look. “Now that I can see beyond my hatred, you really are not so bad. A little wordy, but I do not mind that so much. You can make up for Yoongi’s broody silences.”

That gives you a warm feeling, hearing Jimin include you as part of Yoongi in that sense, that you could contribute something to their relationship in a way, and it makes you smile. “So, we’re good?” you ask, hopeful.

Jimin nods. “Yes. I would say that we are, indeed, good.” He gives you a slight smile that you know will stick with you for a long time. It’s intimate in its own way, private, genuine, and warm.

“Now, is there anything you can think of that might help? How do we discover what’s happening in the Unseelie Court without going there ourselves? I feel blind. I know nothing about this world…the only thing that makes sense is,” you tap your chest, pressing your fingers over your heart, “this.”

Jimin eyes your fingers, his brow pinching. “Would it—is it okay if—” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “what I mean to say is, is it okay if I try to feel for him…through you?”

“Is that possible?” You scoot closer to Jimin until your thigh is pressed against his. “I don’t mind if you try.”

“I, uh, I do not know if it is possible. But, I think I would still like to try, yes.” He clears his throat, sitting up straighter and exhaling slowly. Jimin lifts his right hand, hovering it over yours, where it still rests over your heart. You slide your hand down, letting it drop into your lap.

The gentle press of his fingers is warm, even through the linen of your shirt. “You can press harder,” you say when he continues with the same hesitant contact.

You ignore the flutter in your stomach when his fingers brush the exposed skin through the neckline of your shirt as he presses his entire palm against your chest. “I feel something. There is a power here. But, I can not discern it as connected to Yoongi.”

He pulls his hand away quickly, shaking his head in disappointment. “Sorry, I wish that would have worked,” you share honestly.

Jimin waves a dismissive hand. “We tried. That is the best we can do for now. But, you can feel him, truly? And he is okay?”

“I won’t give you any false hope, the same as I told JK when he asked. I know that Yoongi is alive. I can feel the bond, but it’s like some sort of wall of smoke obscures the other end of it.”

“Alive,” he parrots, nearly matching JK’s words from earlier. “That will have to be enough for now.” Jimin gracefully stands up from his perch on the edge of the porch, the basket of potatoes abandoned and offers you his hand to help you do the same.

You slide your hand into his, and he hoists you up effortlessly. “Ow,” you splutter, wincing and clutching your side when he lets go, and your stance shifts without his support.

“Oh, fuck!” Jimin quickly takes the bulk of your weight, slipping an arm under yours and lifting you nearly onto your toes. “Let us get you back inside. You do need to be resting.”

The hostility you once felt so plainly from Jimin has substantially tapered off. It’s no longer a choking cloud of disdain, just a mild sourness you can smell mixing with his jasmine and chamomile scent. Though, you can distinctly feel a warmth from him that wasn’t there before. Perhaps in time, you can grow even closer to him. You’re sure that would bring Yoongi joy. It’s still unusual to care so much about someone you barely know. You’ve read books and heard stories about such things, but those all fell under the fiction genre…or so you thought.

He ushers you back inside, being mindful of how much tension gets put on your side with each step. “Thank you,” you murmur when he helps ease you into Namjoon’s rocking chair by the fire.

Namjoon startles, jerking around from his perusal of the book in his hands to take in you and Jimin. “What are you doing up? Were you just outside? You should still be in bed.”

“It is my fault,” Jimin tells Namjoon. “I was outside sulking, and Beautiful felt the need to tell me thank you. If I had not been hiding like a petulant child, she would not have had to get up and come find me.”

At that moment, JK emerges from the bathroom, bringing with him a cloud of steam and the faintest scent of banana and coconut. “A petulant child sounds about right,” he scoffs, giving Jimin a once over. “Glad to see we’re on the same page. Now, speaking of pages”—he casually walks into the living space with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips—“have you found anything of interest in that book of yours, Joon?”

“Would you mind putting some clothes on?” Namjoon makes a face at JK. “Nothing yet, but I only just found the one I think may be of help,” he says, pointing to a large pile of books you hadn’t noticed on the floor. “This is The History Of Bonds, written some few hundred summers ago. I was just about to begin browsing it when Mini helped Beautiful into the chair here and was explaining why she was out of bed.”

“Why are you out of bed?” JK asks as he bends to rummage through a cedar chest on the other side of the fireplace.

Jimin clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You both are insufferable. Leave the woman in peace. The last thing she needs is you two fawning over her like old nannies.”

You hide a chuckle behind your hand. “It’s fine, Mini,” you intentionally use his nickname. “I just wanted to thank him for helping me. Everyone else was busy, and I figured walking outside wouldn’t do me any harm. As I see it, we should focus less on why I’m out of bed and more on what we will do next. How do we find out more information?”

“Well,” Jimin says, “I have been thinking about that since you brought it up. I think I might be able to get information from home. We have a magickal communication network that allows us to communicate directly between the courts. I am sure by now word has been sent to the Seelie Court regarding the capture of Yoongi. I will return home and see what information I can find and what I can learn that might help us.

Namjoon hands the book he is holding off to you. “If you would, please hold this for me for a moment.” The book's leather binding is soft, the pages smelling faintly of oranges as you absently thumb through them.

Rummaging around in a small wooden box on top of the fireplace mantel, Namjoon produces a small velvet draw-string bag. “Ravens Word?” Jimin asks, stepping closer to Namjoon.

“It would be the best way to relay information quickly. I have not perfected it, so it can only be used for short phrases or words, but it should be sufficient to give us some knowledge while we wait for you to return.” He hands the velvet bag to Jimin, who tucks it into his trousers pocket. “You remember how to use it?”

Jimin nods. “I will aim for the dining table unless you prefer somewhere else?”

“That should do just fine. I will put down a linen runner.” Namjoon enters the kitchen and opens the cabinets, setting a folded-up white cloth on the table.

JK eyes the pocket the velvet bag is tucked away in. “Are you sure Ravens Word is the best thing to use? Isn’t it traceable?”

“Traceable only if someone is looking for it. Even still, I will not include anything that might incriminate anyone. We long ago stopped using lowels for signature tracking anyway,” Jimin explains with a small shrug.

“Lowels? Ravens Word? Is there a dictionary in that stack of books that I can get or something?” you ask, letting your gaze flick between the three of them.

Jimin gives you an apologetic smile. “Right. A lowel is a creature resembling an owl of your world that can trace magick signatures not directly attached to an individual. So, things such as minor enchantments that use implements and components instead of the magick from within a being. Ravens Word is one such kind of enchantment. It is a mix of astral dust, herbs, and…um, well, the essence of a mortal-world raven. The mixture is powdered and can be used to send messages as long as the caster is familiar with where they want the message to appear. Imagine it like writing in the sand right before the tide comes in and washes it away—short and precise is best.”

“As for a dictionary, you’re just going to have to hope that mortal brain of yours can keep up, Beautiful,” JK says teasingly. Before you can think better of it, you flip him a vulgar one-fingered gesture. “Oh!” He clutches his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me!”

Jimin and Namjoon watch your exchange with mild curiosity. “Well, the sooner I leave, the sooner I can return. I will return as soon as I can,” Jimin says. He moves toward the door, brushing a hand over your shoulder as he passes. “Continue to rest. Once I return, I will begin instructing you on ways of the Courts. If you are to be bonded to my—er, Yoongi, then I will do what I can to ensure that you do so as an informed resident of this realm.” You’re so pleased that he’s finally being nice to you that you fail to argue that you don’t plan to remain a resident of this realm.

After Jimin was gone, Namjoon focused on the book resting in your lap. “I am curious. Are you able to read that?” he asks, nodding to it.

JK produces some clothing from the cedar chest, only stepping behind your chair to afford himself some privacy to pull them on. Once he’s dressed, he rests his forearms on the back of the chair, looking at the book over your shoulder.

The words on the front of the book look simple enough, but the longer you look at the characters, the more they bend and swirl, which confuses you. “No. I thought at first I might, but the letters don’t make sense. What language is it?”

“Ancient Sylvan,” JK says. “I can barely read it. Joon, where did you get this book?”

Namjoon curls his lips between his teeth, suppressing a mischievous smile. “I may have pilfered a thing or two the night I was put out of the castle.” He gives the book in your hands an affectionate glance. “Most might think that my most desired things are plants because I am a woodland nymph. Well, that might be partly true, but books have always been the real treasures that I’ve sought. You can learn so much from them. Beyond the words on the pages, I can learn the tree's history from which the pulp used to make the paper came. It is a marvel to learn history without needing a history book; any book will do.”

“Put out of the castle? Did you escape with Yoongi, too?”

Shaking his head, Namjoon briefly explains, “I come from Jimin’s Court, actually. We were younglings together. My parents worked in the royal gardens. I was caught one night helping Mini sneak out of the castle to be with Yoongi. I was turned out the very next morning and forbade to return.” He shrugs. “I much like my solitude here in the Hollow Lands anyway. Castle life is so…loud.”

“Interesting.” You want to ask many more questions but know they’re not the priority right now. You hold the book up to JK. “Do you want to give reading it a try?”

He laughs, stepping back from where he was leaning against the top of the rocking chair. “I’ll pass on that. Joon, why don’t you read it for us?”

“Certainly,” Namjoon says, coming to perch himself on the arm of the rocking chair. “The first page should be an index of sorts. Let us start there.”

You thumb open the book to the first page with writing on it. It doesn’t look much like an index page to you, having only a few lines of swirling text. “Here?”

“There are just a few chapters. I have only briefly skimmed this book in the past. But,” his eyes flick over the page, “ah, yes. Here we are, ‘Chapter 4: Communicating Through Bonds’. Finding a way for you to communicate with Yoongi through the bond seems like a good place to start.”

That is what you focus on for the next handful of days. And, much to your chagrin, it doesn’t work. At least, you don’t think it does. The process is easy–mainly depending on your inner focus and learning how to navigate and decipher the different fibers of the bond, of which you’ve come to find out there are seven–but the execution sparks no results.

The bond's first and most prominent thread is called the soul tether. It’s the part of the bond that allows Yoongi to use you to access his inner well of magick. It has a distinct feel, with a constant pulsing thrum and vibration. Anytime you focus on it, the magnetic pull that says you should be by Yoongi’s side increases.

The other strands are all more or less associated with the senses—Yoongi’s senses, to be exact. There are five basic senses and a sixth that is tied to the feeling of emotion. These more minor parts of the bond are associated with communicating. But the connection to them slithers away whenever you think you get a handle on it.

In a way, it feels like Yoongi is doing it on purpose. After nothing but failed attempts, Namjoon concluded that perhaps Yoongi was trying to keep Chaddick or Borgia from discovering his bonded status. Another chapter in The History Of Bonds touched on how another fae can detect things like that, but it can be masked to prevent that from happening.

“I am not sure how he is doing it. Perhaps it is linked to the natural instinct to protect your bonded mate while under duress.” Namjoon spreads his hands in defeat. “I just do not know at this point, and the book does not explain further. Though, I think it best if we move on to trying to find a different way to help.”

JK grumbles from his spot across the table from Namjoon, “I’m still for sneaking in and murdering those assholes. You know I could do it.”

“You’re insane if you think I’d let you go in alone. I told you before. We go in as a team or not at all.” You roll your eyes when JK sticks his tongue out at you. Turning your attention to Namjoon, you ask, “What did you have in mind?”

Namjoon glances down at the white linen runner still on the table—the remnants of Jimin’s message burned into the fabric. Drumming his fingers on the table, he hums thoughtfully. “Well, considering Mini’s message yesterday, we might be better off waiting until he returns to try to formulate another plan. He might be able to offer us a bit more insight. True to form, the Ravens Word was, indeed, limited.”

Sun Solstice.

Two words with a giant X crossing over them. That’s all that came through on the second day after Jimin left for the Seelie Court. When you questioned what that could mean, Namjoon and JK were puzzled. Namjoon explained that the Sun Solstice is the longest day of the fae year, celebrated by the Seelie. It’s mostly known as a day when they hold bonding ceremonies for the royals or Greater Fae. But, it also has been known to be days where they execute the Hell Condemned. Which is a term, you’ve learned, that is used for someone like Yoongi—an exiled fae convicted of high treason.

“How is it exactly that Chaddick has been able to deceive both courts for so long? Fae can’t lie, so how has he kept up such a ruse and made people believe Yoongi is a murderer?” It’s a thought that’s been driving you crazy since the beginning, but everything is moving so quickly that you didn’t think to broach the subject sooner. However, you feel like it’s vital information to know when trying to develop a game plan now.

JK pushes up from his seat to rifle through a cabinet in the kitchen. He begins pulling out dishes and various containers. “From what we’ve gathered over the years, it’s all because of his warty little bitch, Borgia. At least, that’s been the only reasonable explanation.”

“What exactly is she?” The image of the fiery-haired crone on the back of a pitch-black winged serpent has infiltrated your mind while both asleep and awake. Those fateful moments still come in fits and flashes, the chaos overwhelming.

“Swamp Hag,” Namjoon says. “Nasty, ancient being. It’s still a mystery how Chaddick sways her to do his bidding. They are typically solitary creatures that come from deep, deep to the south, beyond the borders of The Hollow Land. In a place that we call the Dread Court, though it is not a real Court. There are no presiding rulers or anything. No, it is a land ruled by darkness alone.”

“Swamp Hags are what you might think of as a witch,” JK continues, picking up the explanation as he starts to slice the loaf of bread Namjoon made after breakfast. “They have no natural magick but can harness the magick of other creatures or items. Creatures from the Dread Court are not held to the same…restrictions we find ourselves with. They can lie just as easily as a mortal man.”

“So you think she has somehow given Chaddick that ability?”

JK scoops a spoonful of honeyed butter onto a slice of bread and spreads it out. “More or less. That or she’s somehow found a way to glamor the entirety of the courts. It’s tough to say, considering we’ve had little inside intelligence over the years. The most information we get is from Mini, and even then, he can only ask so many questions to avoid unwanted suspicions.” He proceeds to butter several more slices of bread, arraying them on a plate and setting it on the table in front of you. “She’s the wild card in all this shit…and I hate it.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

It is imperative for Yoongi to hide the bond, but he can’t think of the rationale as to why for some reason. Whenever he wants to relax and let go, something kicks in and smothers that shining light all over again. He wants to reach out to it, to touch it and find comfort in it, but no matter how much he wants to…wait, what did he want to do?

It’s the same thing over and over.

Awareness. Smothering. Darkness.

Nothing makes sense, and yet everything is highlighted in stark clarity. If only he could turn off that incessant ringing. Maybe he could remember what he was thinking about. It’s important. It’s warm—comforting.

No.

Awareness. Smothering. Darkness.

Again and again.

Until…something changes.

Voices. Yes, there are voices. Hushed whispers that he is sure he wouldn’t be privy to if they knew he was aware of them.

“What is wrong with him?” A familiar voice. The voice of his nightmares.

Shuffling feet draw closer. “How am I to know? He looks and feels much the same to me as he did before. What has changed?” Fetid breath ghosts over his face as the figure comes even closer. “I think he is awake.”

The ringing in his ears intensifies as a hard fist connects with the side of his head. “Wake up, boy. Let me see those eyes that are so like your father’s.” The chains securing Yoongi’s arms over his head rattle with the residual force of the blow. Slowly, Yoongi lets his eyelids slide open. “Ah, there they are. Just as ugly as I remember.”

“Do not speak of my father, you filthy murderer!” Yoongi growls, focusing his anger on masking the bond even now that he’s broken out of his temporary fugue.

“Ah,” Chaddick rears back, a dainty hand pressing to his chest. “You wound me, Yoongi.” He flicks his other hand through his long, blond hair. The silky strands cascade over his shoulders as he moves in a slow circle around Yoongi. The space is small, the top room to one of the circular outer turrets, far from the castle proper. He stops after completing the circuit and comes back to face Yoongi. “Borgia, be a dear and remind him exactly who the murderer is here.” His crystalline eyes glitter with hatred as he watches Borgia step forward and press a gnarled, dirty finger to Yoongi’s temple.

“Yoongi, stop!!” Geumjae screams in pain. The metallic stench of blood is thick in the air. It coats his tongue and makes his grip on the short-hilted dagger slip as he raises it again to bring it back down in a harsh stroke. Geumjae’s next scream is wetter, bringing up a froth of bubbling, black blood dribbling down his chin.

He raises the blade again, eyes tracing the arc of it. The moon is high, its rays streaming just enough light inside the hallway for Yoongi to see the look of terror on his brother’s face as he swings the dagger a final time, the wicked edge severing Geumjae’s spinal cord with a satisfying pop of cartilage and muscle.

Blood soaks into the knees of his trousers as he kneels there, watching the light wink out in Geumjae’s eyes. “Like father like son, both dying a coward's death,” he says, his voice coarse and thick with disgust.

Except…it’s not his voice. It’s—

“NO! That is not what happened!” he snarls, jerking away from Borgia’s poisonous touch, severing the connection to the false memories.

“Are you so sure about that?” Chaddick sneers. “From my recollection of that day, your hands were very much covered in your brother’s blood.”

Yoongi shakes his head as much as he can with his arms up the way they are. His hands might have been covered in Geumjae’s blood, but he did not murder him. “You murdered him. You murdered them both!”

“How preposterous. The guilt has clearly warped your mind during your time away.” Chaddick's long black dressing robe swirls around his slippered feet as he approaches Yoongi, coming within just a few inches of him. “Rest assured. You will meet your justified fate for your crimes against the Unseelie Court.

Yoongi laughs a cold and reckless laugh that earns him a backhand across the face. The coppery tang of blood fills his mouth, dribbling down his chin from the cut left by one of Chaddick’s many finger rings. “What? Angry with me? Will you push me out the window like you did your wife? A sword through the belly like my father? How about—” Another blow across his mouth cuts him off.

Chaddick’s hawkish nose wrinkles in anger before he jerks his chin at Borgia and takes a step back, cradling his hand against his chest. “I want him to be pliable and weak. Scramble his brain if you have to, but you make him heel like a pup, or you will be the one I push out the damned window!”

There is momentary satisfaction as Yoongi watches Chaddick storm from the room until he’s reminded of who remains. “You ought to watch your tongue, boy, else he requests me to cut it out. You should know better than to speak such fallacies.”

“Fey can not lie, and you know it.”

That makes her suck her teeth. “Funny, if Fey can not lie, then how is it you say one thing and he says another?” Power glitters in her rheumy, yellowed eyes. “Story has it that you found yourself some dark magick out there in the wild. Allows you to lie and has further tainted your pitiful soul.” Her body shakes as she throws her head back and howls with laughter.

Yoongi has been suspicious about how Chaddick can lie and manipulate this whole time. He knows the stories, what the people believe happened to his father and brother—what Chaddick has made them believe. To anyone that is a victim of Chaddick’s manipulations, Borgia is simply an old seer that Chaddick employs to throw bones and tell fortunes. She’d come with Chaddick to the Court as part of his retainer of staff. Yoongi didn’t even know her capabilities and true nature until it was too late.

“Just kill me and be done with it,” Yoongi mutters, wincing as the burning around his wrists finally registers. Iron, thick and unbreakable, surrounds each delicate joint. The chain connected to the manacles disappears into the darkness above.

Borgia cackles, drawing Yoongi’s attention. “He plans to marry your mother. Do you know that?” Yoongi tries to control his breathing as he listens. “The way I hear it, she pants after him like a mongrel in heat.” He can’t hold back any longer. Yoongi pushes off with his feet, swinging wildly in Borgia’s direction. His right foot connects solidly with her jaw, sprawling her flat on the floor.

“Fuck you!” Yoongi yells, his voice twisted with the pain that echoes down his arms. His body sways, toes scraping at the stone to stop his momentum.

Her moan of pain turns into a rasping chuckle. “Fuck me?” Borgia pushes her bony body off the floor, swaying sharply as she gains her feet. “You will regret that, just as your brother regretted trying to save your life. He told me so right before he took his last breath…right before I cursed his soul to eternal darkness!” she screeches, lunging at Yoongi with surprising agility. Before he can react and jerk out of her reach, her skeletal fingers close around a fistful of his shirt and jerk him forward.

Pain explodes behind his eyes as the fingers of her other hand dig into the flesh of his neck. Ragged fingernails drag over his skin, leaving fire in their wake. He opens his mouth to scream, but silence is all that comes as he’s swept away to another time, another place…surrounded by the darkness of horrid memories that are far too real.

The blankets are snatched off Yoongi’s bed, bringing him with them to land in a sprawling heap on the floor. “Seven Hells!” He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. “Geumjae? What is going on?”

His brother crouches beside him, giving Yoongi a clear view of his face. There are splatters of black across his cheeks and down his neck—blood. Before Yoongi can question him again, Geumjae presses a finger to his lips. “We do not have much time. We have to go. Now!” he urges, grabbing at Yoongi’s arms to help untangle him from the sheets.

“Can you hold on—stop, ow!” Yoongi swats at Geumjae’s hand. “You pinched me, asshole!”

Geumjae slaps a hand over Yoongi’s mouth. “Stop being so loud,” he whispers harshly through gritted teeth. “I do not have time to explain right now. I just need you to trust me. We have to get Mom and get out of the castle. Right. Now.”

It’s not often that Geumjae acts so seriously. If anything, he’s the more relaxed of the two. When their father steps down, Geumjae is expected to take the throne as the eldest son. A revelation he grumbles about more often than not. He’d much rather spend his time playing the lute and singing great ballads to the simpering ladies of the court.

“Why are you covered in blood?” Yoongi questions when Geumjae lowers his hand, matching the volume of his brother’s whisper this time.

Geumjae looks at the door to Yoongi’s bedroom as if checking to ensure no one is looming in the open doorway. “I need you to listen to me, Yoongi. I mean, really listen, okay?” Yoongi purses his lips and nods. “I was coming in from the stables and overheard an argument in the east courtyard. It was Father and Chaddick. By the time I snuck around the corner, it was too late. Five handspans of steel were sunk into Father’s belly, Chaddick’s hand wrapped around the hilt, and that damned red-headed crone of his cackling with glee behind him.” He holds up a hand as Yoongi opens his mouth to protest. “I said listen! I ran as fast as I could and came straight here. This blood is from the guard stationed outside your room. He was one of Chaddick’s men. I could not risk him alerting someone as we left. We can discuss it later, but we need to go now. We have to get Mom and leave!”

It’s not that Yoongi didn’t comprehend anything Geumjae said. It’s just that there is a process to accepting and understanding something like that. Father, dead? Yoongi’s never heard a funnier—albeit not amusing at all—thing being said. “Jae,” he whispers, his heart quivering violently in his chest.

“I know, baby brother, I know.” Geumjae helps a robotic Yoongi to his feet before gripping his hand and pulling him out into the hallway's darkness.

As they approach the wing that leads to their mother’s bedroom, Geumjae slows down to a walk so he can peer around every corner to check that it’s clear.

Silent tears coat Yoongi’s cheeks. Every time Geumjae looks back at him, he scrubs his face with the sleeve of his pajama shirt, not wanting his brother to see his weakness.

“We should just go kill him,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Kill who? Me?” comes a cold voice from the shadows down the hall beside them. They whip around, Geumjae shoving Yoongi behind him. Chaddick moves closer, his bloodied sword trailing him out of the darkness. A few steps behind him crouches Borgia, her sickly-yellow eyes catching in the moonlight like a monster lurking in the dark waiting to pounce.

Geumjae reaches back, fingers wrapping around a small dagger tucked into the top of the back of his trousers. He whips it out, brandishing it. “Just let us get our mother and walk away. We will leave here and never return.”

Chaddick raises one icy blond eyebrow. “Do you think me a fool, Geumjae? Come, boy, I know you are not that thick-headed. You and I know I can not let you leave here alive. Either of you.”

“Jae, stop,” Yoongi urges, tugging on the back of his brother’s shirt as Geumjae steps toward Chaddick.

“Run, Yoongi, run as fast as you can. Leave here and find a way to reveal the truth.” Geumjae maneuvers himself to block Chaddick’s line of sight to Yoongi completely. “Go!”

“Guards!” Chaddick bellows, startling Yoongi. “Sound the bell! The king has been murdered! Hark, hark, hark! To arms! Defend the Court!”

Geumjae glances back at Yoongi, realizing he still hasn’t moved. It’s this instant that Chaddick attacks. Glinting steel slides right through Geumjae’s back, tenting the fabric of his shirt before slicing through in a rush of black blood. Blood spews from Geumjae’s lips, misting Yoongi’s face as he makes one last attempt to get Yoongi to move, “Run!” Geumjae takes a staggering step toward Yoongi, the sword sliding back out of his body. Bloody fingers land on Yoongi’s chest, shoving him backward.

Yoongi screams a gut-churning, heart-wrenching scream that echoes off the stone walls and fills the entire hall. Just as Yoongi finds purchase, after slipping in the pool of blood steadily growing at his feet, Chaddick begins another mockery announcement. “Guards! The Crowned Prince has been slain! To arms! Beware! Min Yoongi, murderer!”

“Not dead yet, you bastard!” Yoongi hears Geumjae snarl. He glances back over his shoulder, locking eyes with his brother one last time—the final time. Geumjae smiles, even through the blood and the pain, letting Yoongi know that it’s okay…it will always be okay.

“Get out of my head, you evil bitch!” Yoongi groans with the effort of severing Borgia’s connection. “I will take great pleasure in gutting you like the slimy bottom feeder you are!”

Borgia hacks a glob of bloody phlegm onto the floor at Yoongi’s feet. “Good luck with that when all that is going to be left of that brain of yours when I am done with it is mush!” She smacks her lips together, tongue running over her cracked and discolored teeth. The red of her hair looks like rust in the dim light coming in through the arrow slits at the top of the room's walls. “Are you curious about your brother’s last moments? Do you want to know how he died on his knees, begging and pissing his pants? How about how we made your mother watch as Chaddick opened his belly and fed his guts to the hounds?”

Yoongi’s nostrils flare, the pain of seeing those last moments all over again almost too much. “Why are you doing this?”

She titters, clucking her tongue. “I do not need a reason to want to see the likes of you and yours finally fall from their gilded seats into an iron cage.” Waving a gnarled hand, she dismisses that line of discussion. “What I would like to talk about now is why every time I dip into your noodly little brain, I can feel something I have never felt before. But every time I try to take a closer peek, it moves further away. Tell me, Hell Condemned, what are you trying to hide from me?”

Even with tears freely streaming down his cheeks, Yoongi silently pats himself on the back for being able to keep his bond hidden. He may not have realized what it was before, why he wasn’t allowed just to let go. But, now he does. He understands with brutal clarity what exactly he’s protecting. It only pains him that he’s not allowed to take comfort in the bond, to luxuriate in it while facing the darkness ahead. No, he can’t even think of—before the image of your face can fully form in his mind, he’s willing it away.

“I guess you will never know,” Yoongi finally responds, letting his eyes slip closed and promptly ignoring any of Borgia’s further questions. Even when she screams at him and presses her filthy fingers into his skin again, he meets the replay of dark memories with a slight smile on his busted lips.

🌸🌸🌸

Monica

“What am I supposed to do, Mal? It’s been weeks.”

Malcolm slides another espresso across the small cafe table to Monica. “Ye say she wanted tae come ‘ere fur she was after something. Whit was it again?”

“Stupid stories. Well, not stupid, but silly children's stories. Her grandfather was one of those head-in-the-clouds types, and he was always filling her head full of fantasy bullshit about pixie dust and fairies. Utter nonsense.”

In the three weeks since you went missing, Monica has more or less moved in with Malcolm. She canceled her flight home, returned the rental car, and put in for an extended sabbatical at work. In part, she feels responsible for your disappearance. She’s sworn off alcohol and refuses to go home until you’re found.

“Ye dinnae believe in magick?” Malcolm asks hesitantly.

Monica scoffs. “Do you expect me to believe some little green man with fairy wings carted her off? Be real, Mal.” When he just looks at her, she continues, “Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff?!”

One of his big shoulders lifts, and he sighs. “There are stories, ye ken? Things folk only blether aboot in hushed whispers. Stories aboot people disappearing around Beltane.” Monica leans forward, bringing the espresso up for a small sip, intent on Malcolm’s story. “The veil between worlds is thin, allowing the fae folk ta donder among the mortals. Some say those that disappear are taken back tae the fae realm. There was this yin lassie, mah maw knew her when they were weans, disappeared when she was eighteen. She showed up almost a decade after, had barely aged a day, spouting off aboot a peace finally comin’ tae the courts allowing her tae make her escape.”

“Do you expect me to believe that? Honestly?”

“All I’m saying is that there are folk who have disappeared the same as yer friend. Would it be so bad tae think she’s somehow caught up in another world? Ye said so yerself that she doesn’t feel here anymore.”

She hates that Malcolm is right, and she has said that; she still says that. Because that’s precisely what it feels like. Is this why you talked her into coming to Scotland? Did you come looking to disappear? Monica reflected on your last few conversations many times over the previous few weeks. Everything points back to your grandfather…maybe she should have paid more attention or been more empathetic to what losing him did to you. Perhaps then you would still be here.

🌸🌸🌸

Namjoon

Maintaining the new ward is taxing. The leaves of his seeded oak are starting to drag the ground, an alarming new development. Jimin is delayed in returning, his second message using the Ravens Word still smoldering the linen runner on the table.

Tonight.

They had waited, thinking Jimin would be returning soon. But one day turned into another and eventually became almost an entire moon cycle. Namjoon is ready for his friend to return, hoping he’ll bring with him another implement or two. The haggardness is creeping back around his eyes, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep the garden flourishing. He knows if it comes down to it, the plants will have to suffer to preserve the ward; it would be for the best, but it still pains Namjoon to consider it.

“Are you feeling okay?” Your inquiry startles him out of his thoughts. “Sorry, I should have knocked.” You prop your hip against the bedroom door jamb, where Namjoon excused himself hours ago so he could lie down and nurse a headache.

He pushes up on his elbows, wincing slightly at the thundering ache still pounding away between his temples. “Feeling a bit better now. Has JK returned from the western glen?”

“Joon, JK returned hours ago. You’ve been in here nearly all day. It’s why I came to check on you. Mini should be arriving soon, I’d imagine.”

That gets Namjoon’s attention. He clears his throat and absently pats his clothes as he slides off the bed. “Right. I must have laid down a bit longer than I thought I had.” He wishes he’d have at least slept some.

“It’s your magick, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The reason you look and probably feel like shit.”

His brow pinches. “I look like shit?”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week, and the bags under your eyes are turning into suitcases.” The worry you feel is evident in your voice, even if Namjoon doesn’t quite understand your odd phrasing.

There is no use in trying to skirt around the truth, as you’ve already figured it out. “Yes. It is my magick. Or rather, a lack of. I was already nearing my limit when I let down the ward the first time. Now that I have had it back up for several weeks, and with the bond necklace only having given me a few additional weeks…well, it would seem I need another boost or a miracle.”

“Maybe we should find you a human to bond with,” you say. Namjoon can tell you’re joking, but the idea has crossed his mind on multiple occasions.

“Mmm,” he hums, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You push off from the door jamb and gesture over your shoulder with a thumb. “JK has dinner ready if you’re hungry.”

He follows you out of the room and settles at the dining table across from you. Jungkook has a platter of grilled meats and vegetables waiting. The fragrant scent of herbs and spices makes Namjoon’s stomach give an appreciative grumble. His appetite hasn’t been what it should be, another testament to how he’s been feeling.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Jungkook says after setting plates and cutlery beside the platter. “There is another rack of trimmings keeping warm in the coals.”

Jungkook’s always been a fairly decent cook. The tender meat is like butter melting on Namjoon’s tongue. He’s confident that if he can eat enough tonight, he’ll maintain his strength for another day or two at least.

You’re awfully quiet as you slice up the vegetables Jungkook spooned onto your plate. Namjoon can almost see the wheels turning in your head. There’s something on your mind. He’s gotten good at picking up on your tells and personal nuances over the last few weeks while waiting for Jimin to return. The awkwardness that was there in the beginning no longer exists. You might have been a stranger to him the first few days, but now you’re so much more. A friend—but even that does not seem to suffice when he considers you. Between the training you’ve been doing with Jungkook and the help you’ve been putting in around the house, you’ve been spending a lot of your free time helping Namjoon with his garden and learning all you can about the plants he so dearly loves.

It’s very apparent that Jungkook has also taken a liking to you. Primarily, he dotes on you, waiting on you hand and foot. When Jungkook returns from his daily scouting trips, he often returns with a swath of wildflowers you’ve taken to decorating the porch railing with. Bright blooms of pink, purple, and blue cover nearly every available inch. Namjoon knows what it means but doesn’t dare to broach the subject. Especially considering he would then have to reflect on his own internal feelings, and that’s a space he would rather avoid for the foreseeable future.

“Would that even work?” Your question pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry. Would what work?” he asks after swallowing a bite of meat.

You poke at a crispy potato wedge, chewing on your bottom lip instead of the food. “Bonding with a human?” You finally look up from your plate, your eyes meeting Namjoon’s curious gaze.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, pausing with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth.

You shrug. “His magick is straining again. I was just curious if bonding with a human would help him like it helped Yoongi since Joon is a woodland nymph, not a Greater Fae or whatever.”

Your curiosity is endearing. The fact you care enough about Namjoon to ask makes him feel good. “I imagine it would work much the same way. There are far fewer stories in our histories where a woodland nymph took a human mate, but we have our own inner wells for magick. Ours are more connected with where we plant our soul seed. My oak,” he gestures toward where his towering oak sits outside, “is where my magick is channeled from. It enters through my connection with my tree and into my inner well. The way a human bond works is it primarily allows the Fey to wield more of their own power safely. If I bonded with a human, it would allow me to draw on more magick through my oak.”

“Where does your oak get magick from?”

“Bronwe—that’s the name she whispered to me when her first leaf began to sprout—my oak,“ Namjoon explains, “draws her power from deep below the ground. Her roots reach for many miles in all directions, feeding on the life force of nature itself. Though, the more magick I draw from her without having some sort of stabilizer, the weaker her roots become. That is why her branches have begun to droop so low. I have been trying to take too much from her.” Namjoon drops his eyes from yours, resuming his study of his plate. “So, yes, to answer your question. A human mate would help—if just to give her a break.”

“Can more than one fae be bonded to the same human?”

Jungkook chokes on his mouthful of food. Namjoon reaches over and hammers a fist against his back, suddenly feeling like he can’t breathe himself. “Why would you ask that?”

“I’m just curious,” you declare. “I still know very little about this world and how it works. Just asking questions.”

“Sounds to me like you are causing trouble with your questions,” Jimin’s amused voice carries from the porch just before the door opens, and in steps the Fey himself.

“Mini!” You shove back from the table and skip to the door, pulling Jimin into a hug. Namjoon watches you, thankful for Jimin’s interruption and amused at the look of surprise on his face as you press your face against his chest and inhale deeply. You’ve been gravitating toward scents recently, primarily seeking clothing worn by Yoongi or left here by Jimin. It’s made Namjoon curious if it has anything to do with the deep connection between Jimin and Yoongi, despite there not being an actual bond between them.

Jimin pats your back. “At least one of you is happy to see me,” he teases.

“What news do you have for us?” JK asks, standing up and grabbing another plate from the cabinet. “You must be starving, have a seat. Eat.”

After settling down beside you, once you resume sitting at the table, Jimin fills his plate with food before he begins. “I expect you got my Ravens Word messages?”

“Sun Solstice.” Namjoon confirms, “We did. What is happening?”

“Chaddick has announced a marriage decree to Yoongi’s mother come the Sun Solstice, an act of unification, he claims. It will coincide with his public execution before the whole of both courts. The end of the Min line to finally bring true peace to both Courts. A blessing and a curse.” He pauses, taking a moment to meet everyone’s eyes. “I saw him.”

“You saw him? How? Where?” Jungkook’s hand tightens around his fork so tightly that Namjoon hears the wooden handle creak.

Jimin visibly shivers. “It was requested that my family be present for the announcement. Chaddick presented the decree and began working with the Seelie Court advisors on a power merger. He intends to be the first Seelie to sit on the Unseelie Throne. This is exactly what he has wanted all along, but he knew as long as Yoongi was still alive, there was no way he could lay claim to the Min throne—regardless of Yoongi’s exiled status.”

“How did you manage to see him? Surely they have him locked away in the dungeons?” Namjoon questions, knowing full well the typical etiquette observed for prisoners.

The sigh Jimin lets out is hollow, exhausted. “Chaddick is bold. He was parading him in the open, shackled in iron like a beast. His eyes were so—they were so…empty. I could feel the taint of darkness surrounding him, bleeding from him. It stank of a swamp,” he sneers.

“Borgia. She must be using some sort of witchy shit on him.” You shove away your plate in frustration. “Ugh! I wish I knew more about this bond. If it gives him access to more power, shouldn’t he be powerful enough to break free from it or something?”

Jimin gives you a sympathetic look. “Was there anything you all found out that might help? Anything about the bond we can work toward? The Sun Solstice is just a week away.”

Namjoon has an idea, but he’s unsure how receptive anyone else will be to it. You gave him the idea, actually. Even then, it’s a long shot that anyone would be comfortable agreeing. But, then again—he glances at Jungkook, who is staring at you like he wants to hold you and soothe your worries. Jimin, well, he already knows Jimin will do anything for Yoongi. And, as far as himself…

“I think I might know of a way to help,” Namjoon admits, his voice wavering slightly with nerves. “But, it is a bit eccentric.”

🌸🌸🌸

Jungkook

“You want us to do what?” Jungkook can’t believe what he’s hearing.

The tips of Namjoon’s ears blush as he stammers out his idea again. “It might be possible for us to all bond with Beautiful, giving Yoongi unfettered access to our magick through her. It would have to be enough for him to overpower whatever enchantment Borgia has over him. There is no way she is more powerful than four Fey combined.”

“I’ll do it,” you don’t hesitate to state. “If it can help, I’ll do it. I’ll fuck all of you at the same time if it means helping Yoongi, if it means we rescue him and send Chaddick to the fiery pits of Hell…or wherever it is that bad people from here go.”

Jungkook can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips. He knew he liked you from the moment he laid eyes on you. The fact you were meant for his best friend didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate you. Spending the last several weeks holed up in Namjoon’s house with you only intensified that appreciation. Since Namjoon said your side was healed well enough, you’ve asked Jungkook to help train you with a sword every morning. And fuck if he doesn’t like how your body moves when you swing it. You might be no better than a child playing with a toy sword right now, but you don’t give up—which is what makes him keep agreeing to train you.

“Are you certain this would work?” Jimin asks, his untouched plate of food forgotten on the table.

Namjoon stands up from the table and moves over to his stack of books. “I came across it a few days ago. It is not a definitive account but a speculation based on transcribed scrolls in an abandoned temple found near the Dread Court. There is a small passage about ‘Circle Bonding’,” he explains, flipping through an old, tattered book. The pages are barely staying within the binding. Dust drifts down from the book with each additional page Namjoon turns. “Here.” He turns the book around and gently lays it on the table.

Looking at the page, Jungkook can see it is in a standard script, likely part of the translation process. “‘A practice observed mostly by lesser Fey seeking more power’,” he reads off, skimming over the small paragraph. “‘Although the effects may vary according to the Fey involved, it is believed to be most effective with at least one Greater Fey’. Well, we got that covered, at least. Twice over,” he muses, glancing at Jimin.

Jimin lightly brushes the edge of the page. “Is it so simple?”

“I am willing,” Namjoon says. “It may also help with my magick. I do not know how long I can keep us concealed here.”

“With luck, my friend, you won’t need to keep the ward up much longer. If we bond and Yoongi gets the boost he needs, I say if he doesn’t make it out by himself, then we orchestrate an attack the night before Sun Solstice. The Seelie Court will be in attendance. I’m sure there will be a feast in preparation for the sun to rise…the perfect distraction and opportunity to slip in and make some noise.”

You’re nodding along to Jungkook’s plan, a sparkle of light shimmering in your eyes. He knew you liked this kind of stuff. There’s no way you wouldn’t with all the stories your grandpa told you. You’ve shared a few with him over the weeks. His favorite is The Young Tamlane of Carterhaugh. He wonders how long it will take you to realize that story is, in part, based on himself.

“So, we agree, then? We try to bond and give Yoongi the extra oomph he needs to escape. If, for some reason, he doesn’t, we say fuck it and storm the castle in a last-ditch effort. If they’re going to try and execute him anyway, it’s not like we have other options.” You look at Jimin, the only one who hasn’t voiced his agreement yet. “What do you say, Mini? We didn’t start on the right foot, but I no longer care about that. I just want Yoongi to be alive and happy.”

“It would mean I am connected to him, too. So, if sharing a bond with all of you saves Yoongi, then of course I agree.” Jimin smiles. It’s soft and sweet, something Jungkook hasn’t seen from him in a while.

Jungkook begins clearing away the dishes from the table, uncaring of the uneaten food. “Well, no time like the present. We need to find implements to use. Joon, do you have anything?”

“I believe I know just the things,” Namjoon replies. He heads straight for the small box on the mantle, where he pulled the bag of Ravens Word from. “I have been saving these for a long time.” Returning to the table, he opens his palm and reveals three near-identical purple and white crystal shards. Delicate silver chains crisscross over and around them, securing the stones at the ends as the pendants of necklaces.

“Those are beautiful,” you say, looking at the stones in Namjoon’s palm. Your lips make this cute ‘o’ shape, parting just enough for Jungkook to see the tip of your tongue.

Jimin grabs the bag he discarded on the floor by the door when he first came in. “They will match perfectly with this.” He pulls back the clasps on the bag and reaches in. “I got something for you. I figured you would be tired of having to roll up the sleeves on the tops and cuffing the pants of these giants.” Purple silks and velvets come out of the bag, silvery and light blue accents peeking through here and there. “Some blouses, fitting of your beauty, and some tapered trousers more suitable to your stature.”

“Oh, wow. Mini, you didn’t have to do that.”

The smile that graces Jimin’s face reminds Jungkook of just what made Yoongi so goo-goo-eyed, to begin with. Jimin has an ethereal beauty that goes beyond even that of a Fey.

“Perhaps not. But I wanted to. I want you to be comfortable and well cared for, truly.” A bit of color creeps into Jimin’s cheeks, further brightening his smile. You roll your lips between your teeth and do this little shoulder swish that’s just so fucking cute. Jungkook’s sure he could swoon over the Seelie Prince himself if he weren’t so caught up in watching your reaction to Jimin. You disappear into the bedroom to try on the new clothing.

“Okay, Prince Charming,” Jungkook teases. “A few weeks away, and you come back a different Fey.”

“Not different, just more accepting, perhaps. She is forever a part of Yoongi, and I love him—all of him.” Jimin sets his bag back down, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I know I was wrong in the beginning, I let my emotions cloud my judgment, and I will forever be embarrassed and sorry for my actions. I am simply doing what I can to rectify it.”

Jungkook steps around the table and places a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “Yoongi would be proud of you.”

“I hate that he is not here for this. Do you think he would be accepting? She is his mate, his bond…would he be okay with us making that connection, too?” The worry in Jimin’s voice is evident.

Namjoon moves to stand beside them, the necklaces dangling from his hand. “I believe if Yoongi were aware of ‘Circle Bonding’ before all of this, it would have been his idea. You know how much he loves you, Mini. He and JK have been inseparable since they were younglings. Of course, he would want him to be a part of his bond.” It’s not lost on Jungkook that Namjoon doesn’t include himself in the assurance.

“Do not leave yourself out of that, Joon. He would want you, too,” Jimin responds immediately, clearly having caught it the same as Jungkook. “You have done more for him in the last ten years than JK, and I combined. If anything, you would be his first choice.” They both chuckle, knocking shoulders playfully.

“How do I look?” you call from the bedroom as you step out.

Jungkook swallows thickly, subconsciously licking his lips as he takes you in. The lilac top hugs your figure, accentuating your waist, flaring over your hips, and pushing your breasts up. He sends up a silent thank you to the Moon for Jimin choosing those trousers. They hug your legs, making them look like they were dipped in starlight.

Jimin breaks the silence first. “Exquisite.”

“Thank you, good sir.” You give an exaggerated curtsy, your fingers pinching at the flared fabric over your hips, making them all melt into laughter. “Now, who’s ready to do this?”

🌸🌸🌸

You can’t believe what you’re about to do. When you slipped into the bedroom to change into the beautiful clothing Jimin brought you, you nearly panicked and climbed out the window. Since the moment JK dumped you through the gateway and into the loch, your entire life has been one giant tailspin. It’s only been recently that you’ve managed to stop the nauseating swirl and begin to get a grasp on things. Now, you’re about to take another nosedive into the unknown.

It’s not that you don’t want to bond with these fae—you don’t mind that part—but you can’t seem to get rid of the tingling beneath your skin when you think about how Yoongi might react. You’ve been trying to remain positive, spending a lot of time reaching out to the bond and frustrating yourself over and over again when you run into the same foggy wall as before.

Jimin’s news of Yoongi made your stomach churn. You immediately grabbed for the bond and threw everything you had against the wall separating you, but it was useless. If you’re being honest, the reason you agreed so quickly to try the circle bonding was the thought that maybe if someone else is part of the bond, then they can use their magick to break through the barrier and finally communicate with Yoongi. From what JK explained and what little you could read of the book Namjoon had, in theory, it should work in a way that allows them to feel the bond you have with Yoongi and each other.

“We should start with JK,” Namjoon suggests. “Go in sequence of ability.”

JK huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess that makes sense. Are we all going to do the rites first?”

Jimin looks to Namjoon, and they both nod. “I think that might be for the best. We can begin the bonding process all at once and then…umm, the other.”

“Foursome,” JK chirps. “The other would be what they call a foursome.”

“You do not have to be so crude,” Jimin murmurs. “Besides, what if we do not want to do that together?”

“Are you worried we’ll laugh at your little cock?” JK pokes his lips out in a faux pout. “It’s okay, Mini. I promise not to laugh too much.”

Jimin raises a slim brow, his lips tipping into a smirk. “I was thinking more along the lines of not wanting to make you feel inadequate in comparison.”

“Okay, okay, enough dick talk,” you laugh, thankful for the banter that has eased the tension. “If it’s any consideration, I wouldn’t mind if everyone was present. Based on my experience, inhibitions seem to have no place during a bonding. I doubt any of you will even care if you accidentally cross swords.”

That earns you a loud, full laugh from JK and curious looks from Namjoon and Jimin. “That has to be in reference to sex of some kind,” Namjoon muses. “I will have you all know that I have never—well, I have never experienced copulation with another being.”

“Fucking knew it!” JK exclaims.

This makes you pause. “Are you sure you want to do this, then, Joon? The bond…it, well, it is very controlling.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “I know. If I am being honest with you, with all of you, I have taken quite a liking to you, Beautiful. I do not believe in coincidences, the sun and moon move in mysterious ways, but the stars are always aligned precisely how they are meant to be. You were destined to come here, to be a part of this world, and now you are making it tilt to rotate on your axis.”

You can feel it, the rightness in his words. You didn’t travel to Scotland on a whim as you thought. No, you were inevitably drawn to this time and place as a beacon of hope and change. Everything your grandpa ever told you has prepared you for these very moments. You know how this story is supposed to end.

When you lead the way to the garden, the moon is high in the sky, the air warm and humid against your skin. Beautiful ivy vines, fragrant jasmine, and drooping wisteria cover the moon gate. The flowers have bloomed fully over the last week or so, creating a magnificent backdrop as you stand with your hand clasped in JK’s. Jimin gently wraps the delicate silver chain around your hands, much like he and JK did for you and Yoongi.

You can’t help reaching out to the bond again. Trying to somehow let Yoongi know what you’re about to do is meant to help him. Being of the Unseelie Court, the words JK speaks mirror the ones spoken by Yoongi, vowing to be like the moon that gives way to the sun. You feel the same draw, reciting the words you also spoke to Yoongi. As the last word leaves your mouth, you gasp, stumbling forward into JK and clutching your chest.

The bond undulates, swelling inside you with the onslaught of new feelings. It’s like JK has reached under your ribs and is squeezing your heart. “Fucking hell,” you rasp as your body finally adjusts to the new sensations. “Is that normal?”

JK’s eyes are wide and full of alarm as he clutches you to his chest. “Like being hooked up to a car battery.” Usually, that would make you laugh, hearing JK speak so casually about things in the mortal world, considering the amount of time he has spent there during the last ten years. But, now, it barely registers over the ocean roaring in your ears—only, they’re not your ears.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

Standing on the rocky precipice, looking out over the deadly drop into the crashing waves below, he feels something inside of him change. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his manacled hands grow clammy, having nothing to do with the ocean mist that lingers in the air.

“Would you like your body to be dumped into the ocean once I finish with it?” Borgia asks, sucking her teeth as she ambles over the craggy rock face to sneer at him. “I would shove you over right now if I could get away with it.” She uses a high-pitched mocking voice, “Oh, no, he jumped! I could not stop him!” Her laugh is like the crumbling of dead leaves, raspy and hollow. Yoongi barely registers the fire lancing through his wrists when she tugs on the iron chain, making him stumble behind her like a dog on a leash. He’s so focused on the new sensation in the bond that he doesn’t mind when she forces him onto his knees, the barnacles on the rocks cutting through his pants. “Collect those for me, dog, and I will let you have a bite of bread for dinner.”

His fingers dig at the crustaceans, trying to pry them from the rock. He doesn’t care that it’s nearly impossible to do with just his fingers, as long as Borgia doesn’t touch him. Because, right now, he is leagues away…standing in front of a moon gate, looking into the eyes of one of his best friends.

🌸🌸🌸

The sensations level out, letting you get a better grasp on them. After Jimin unwinds the necklace, JK slides his hands up your arms, sucking in a breath when his fingertips graze the exposed skin of your neck. He licks his lips and jerks back, releasing you. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, reluctant to let him step away. The connection between you urges you to go to him. Now that it has tasted his magick, it wants more. It needs you to complete the bond to his inner well.

Your eyes drift to Namjoon as he takes JK’s place before you. He offers you his hand, a warm smile on his face. “May I?”

Instead of answering him, you feel a need to be honest with him about something that has been eating away at you for a long time now. “Joon, I—I need to tell you something.”

Namjoon’s brow pinches and his hand slowly lowers to his side. “What is it?”

You chance a glance at Jimin, who is watching you with an open expression of genuine support. He nods his chin slightly in further encouragement. You reach for Namjoon’s hand, taking it up and holding it between both of your own. “When JK and I first came back after Yoongi was taken, there were some things I overheard during all the chaos. Things that I do not think I was supposed to hear but that were said accidentally with all the stuff going on. Joon—Namjoon,” you pause, letting him take in the realization, “I hope you are not too upset with me.”

His eyes drop like he’s taking a moment to filter through his feelings. “No control,” he finally says. “You know my true name, but still, you hold no power over me for it.” He looks up at you, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “I am thankful for you telling me. You are full of surprises, you sweet, wonderful being.”

“Do you know my real name?” JK asks, drawing your attention.

You shake your head. “I do know Jimin, though. Those were the only two names I heard that night. I don’t know if it was because someone else said them, and that’s why I don’t have power with them. Or, Jimin thinks it might have something to do with me slowly growing into my own faeness. Either way, it’s not my intention to have that kind of power over any of you. I didn’t want to ask you, and it somehow not be the same as with them. I would never have asked it of Yoongi if I thought there was any other way to guarantee my safety at the time.”

“Tell her,” JK urges, nudging Jimin with his elbow. “I want her to know my name, too.”

Jimin chuckles softly, giving JK a knowing look. “His name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook of the Unseelie Court, Royal Guard to the Crowned Prince.”

“You didn’t have to get all proper like that,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes, but then he quickly looks to you, hopeful.

“Jungkook,” you test out his name, liking how it feels on your lips. “I like knowing your name without having some control over you with it.” That makes Jungkook positively beam, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes and over his dark hair. He may not be a fae prince, but he sure looks like it to you. You turn back to Namjoon, intimately aware of the butterflies that sweep through your belly when you meet his gaze. “Shall we?”

The words Namjoon chooses are different but no less potent in their meaning. “As all living things need the sun, water, and nutrients to grow, so too do I need you as my mate to grow beyond what I am now. I open my heart to you so you may gaze upon my grove and find shade under the branches of Bronwe. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

It’s so natural now, responding to his vow with your own. “Whether as a mighty oak or a delicate rose, I come to you as tender hands of care. I will be the cooling shade to searing heat and the suckle of water when it's dry. I will protect you and Bronwe with all that I am and ever could be. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

Namjoon’s hand tightens around your forearm as you both sway from the impact of the tether beginning to form. “Wow,” he says. The sentiment of his surprise and awe echoes inside you as the bond changes again. Your nose twitches as you catch the faintest whiff of briny ocean air.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

Something is happening to the bond. The harder he pushes it down to mask it, the harder it pushes back. It’s clear to him that you’ve accepted a bond with Jungkook, though the reasoning alludes him. He trusts his friends implicitly. Whatever it is they are doing with you, he knows it’s for the benefit of everyone.

The moon is bright overhead, something that used to bring Yoongi immense amounts of joy because it would revitalize his inner well and make him feel refreshed, even when his magick was at its weakest, right before you got dumped into his life—literally. Since he’s been taken, Borgia has made sure to only take him out at night when she feels like he’s extra compliant. Tonight is one of those such instances. He’s been feeling listless the last day or two, using all of his reserved strength to keep the bond masked, long having given up trying to fight the nightmare of the night he escaped the castle that she makes him relive constantly.

“Scrape at those faster, boy. We do not have all night.” Saliva splashes onto his boot as she spits on the ground beside him. He ignores it, digging his now bloodied fingers around a particularly stuck barnacle, his eyes focused on the moonlight glinting off the ocean in the distance, but all he can see are a beautiful pair of turquoise eyes that are so full of love as they move to in front of him—but not him.

🌸🌸🌸

Jimin is the last to step in front of you. Unshed tears are glistening in his eyes as Jungkook helps Namjoon twine the third necklace around your clasped hands.

The words Jimin says are similar to Yoongi’s but from the sun's perspective as opposed to the moon's. “As the sun provides light for the moon to glow, so too will I shine for you as my mate. I open my heart to you so you may gaze upon my stars and find warmth within my soul. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

You combine your own words, feeling like that is the right thing to do. “The moon spends its entire life reflecting the light of the sun so that others may see, even in the dark. I offer myself to you as an equal to shine for the moon. I open my heart to you so we may both be bright for him, even in the darkest of times. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.” The inclusion of Yoongi is automatic, offering Jimin not just a bond but a promise that you will never try to be more prominent in Yoongi’s life, instead standing as an equal to Jimin.

The bond shivers, bringing an added warmth that shines brighter than the midday sun. Jimin closes his eyes and murmurs, “Yoongi. I can almost feel him.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

“Put them in the jar,” Borgia huffs, kicking the glass bottle closer to where he kneels. His hands are a mess, bloodied and aching, as he grabs the jar and begins to stuff the crustaceans he managed to pry from the rock.

Sweat is pouring down his neck and soaking his shirt. The last change to the bond is making it so hard to hold back. Jimin. He has barely thought of him since he’s been captive, lest he falls into a bottomless pit of despair. Yoongi can feel them, all three of his best friends, glittering like an oasis in the desert on the other side of the mental wall he’s erected within himself.

He aches to drop the wall and reach out to embrace the warmth it offers. But he’s not sure what will happen if he does. The bonds are faint, incomplete—just a tease at this point. Yoongi grits his teeth, shoving the last of the sea creatures into the jar before staggering to his feet and holding it out to Borgia. She gestures wildly down the coast, a silent command for Yoongi to walk. He clutches the jar to his chest, takes a step forward, and once again finds himself with his unfocused gaze staring into familiar turquoise eyes and the faint taste of chamomile on his tongue.

🌸🌸🌸

“He’s there. I know he is. Why isn’t he letting us in?” Jungkook presses a hand to his chest, a look of confusion on his face.

“The bond is not yet complete. That could be holding him back,” Namjoon suggests. His breathing is a bit ragged as he works to unwind the necklace from around your and Jimin’s hands. “There is so much power.”

You can feel him now. Yoongi is there, a muted presence, but you feel him more prominently than you have the whole time he’s been gone. The taste of salt lingers on your lips, and for some reason, the tips of your fingers ache with phantom pains. “He knows,” you whisper, licking your lips and savoring the tangy flavor that shouldn’t be there. “I can feel him.”

“Whoa,” Jimin gasps, pulling you closer. His eyes bore into yours. “Your eyes, they—they are his. Oh, Yoongi.” Before you know it, Jimin’s lips are pressed to yours. The touch ignites something in you. You lean into the kiss, letting Jimin slide his tongue between your lips. “You taste the way he does, like the darkness just before dawn and morning dew,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath.

Gentle fingers brush across the back of your neck, eliciting goosebumps down your spine. “You smell even more divine than before. Is it because of the bond?” Namjoon audibly swallows, the sound quivering his breath as he exhales. “Perhaps we should go inside.”

All you can do is nod. The force of three new bonds is far more intense than one, each playing off the need of the next. As you follow them back into the house, you can feel moisture already gathering between your thighs. Namjoon leads the way, his broad shoulders seeming even more expansive now that you’re looking at him through a bond haze.

Jungkook has been uncharacteristically quiet since he questioned why Yoongi wasn’t letting them in. You put a hand on his arm to draw his attention. “You okay?”

“What? Me? Oh, yeah, I’m more than okay.” That boyish grin you first saw all those nights ago at Bowhill House settles on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrug. “You don’t even know my name.”

His eyes flick to yours. “Sure I do. You’re Beautiful.”

“I mean my real name,” you laugh. Namjoon pushes open the door to the bedroom, and you continue in behind Jungkook.

Jimin shrugs off his overcoat and tosses it on a wooden chair in the corner. “We do not need to know your real name for this to be what we want. At least, that is how it is for me. And if I am being even more honest, I do not want to know your name until you are ready to give it, and even then, I want Yoongi to know it first. He deserves that more than we do, but only when you are ready for that…if you ever are. We are all perfectly content with calling you Beautiful, as that is exactly what and who you are.”

“He’s right,” Jungkook agrees. “Now, quit stalling and get on the bed.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with an awkward laugh.

Jungkook pokes at the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. “I said get on the bed. Now.”

“Hold up a minute, I don’t thin—“

His chest is against yours in the next instant. He steps forward, forcing you back until your thighs knock into the edge of the bed. “Seeing as how I am the only cock in this room that has any experience with pussy, I think it would be best if I called the shots. Besides, I like being in charge.” He emphasizes that statement with a gentle push to your shoulders, easing you back onto the bed.

You glance at Namjoon and Jimin. Their eyes are locked on Jungkook, watching his every move as he slowly begins to relieve you of the clothing you put on only hours ago. The buttons on your blouse pop open quickly under his deft fingers, exposing your bare breasts to the heat of the room and their gazes.

Being bold, Namjoon steps forward and perches on the bed beside you. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“It’s okay to touch,” you tell him before giving Jimin a look that means those words are for him, too.

Your boots come off next. One at a time, they thump onto the floor, discarded by Jungkook. His fingers tickle along the arch of your foot, making you squirm. You open your mouth to tell Jungkook to stop, but Namjoon’s fingers pinching one of your nipples steals your attention.

“Touch her, Jimin. I know you want to. Stop resisting.” Jungkook smirks as he trails his hands up your legs until he gets to the fastening on your pants.

Jimin reaches out a tentative hand and cups your other breast, squeezing lightly. You both shudder from the contact. “I can feel you feeling me,” Jimin observes, experimenting by flicking his thumb over your nipple until it pebbles tightly.

Your body jerks as Jungkook tugs your pants down over your hips. Namjoon sits up a little straighter. He cocks his head to the side, sliding his hand down from your breast to splay across your stomach.

“What you’re looking for is the clit,” Jungkook casually tells Namjoon. “Listen to the sounds she makes. Watch her reactions. You’ll know when you find it.”

“Why am I the only one naked?” you huff, biting your bottom lip as Jimin continues teasing your nipples, and Namjoon’s hand moves lower. Your pants hit the floor, Jungkook finally getting them down your legs. He stands back, looking smug as he watches Namjoon’s hand intently.

It’s a soft touch at first, the way Namjoon’s fingers sweep over your skin. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as he becomes more confident with his exploring. Jimin leans in and captures your next exhale, breathing you in before devouring your mouth in a brutal kiss. He follows you down as you lose the will to continue sitting upright. Hands trace over your knees before firmly pushing them open, exposing your throbbing core.

You track Namjoon’s fingers, letting your body and the bond guide your sight even behind closed lids. You’re distinctly aware that it’s Jungkook’s hands on your knees. The sound of Namjoon’s sharp inhale when he finally slides a finger through your wetness, mixed with the sensation of it, has you moaning into Jimin’s mouth.

“Listen to her moan for you,” Jungkook whispers, his voice dark and throaty.

Namjoon drags his finger through your arousal again, eliciting another moan from you. Jimin breaks away from the kiss, panting against your cheek before pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. He alternates with tongue and teeth, leaving playful marks in his wake. “Kiss her when you do that, Namjoon,” Jimin stops his kissing to murmur into your skin. “It is exhilarating feeling the vibrations of her moans.”

“Take off your clothes first, lover boy,” Jungkook suggests, the words hooked on a groan he tries to hide. “I have a feeling once you start, you won’t be able to stop.” His hands are still on your knees, and without looking, you can tell he’s staring at where your arousal is beginning to drip out and down your ass. You can feel his penetrating stare, the way he’s holding back his desire so Namjoon and Jimin can enjoy themselves before he does.

The finger that was tracing circles around your clit disappears. Your eyes flutter open, intent on getting your first real glimpse at Namjoon’s body as he begins to slip out of his clothes. He’s always worn neutral earth tones that compliment his easy-going demeanor. The fact he’s hiding such a beautiful body under so many layers of linen should be marked down as a cardinal sin.

His eyes meet yours as his shirt hits the floor, and his thumbs hook into the waistband of his pants. With teasing slowness, he slides them down inch by inch until they come loose around his knees and fall to puddle around his feet. Namjoon is as glorious naked as he is kind in spirit. You’re utterly at a loss for words, so you just reach out a hand to him in offering.

Jimin leans back, propped up on an elbow, as he watches Namjoon take your hand, and you guide him up onto the bed. The bed dips, and Jimin scoots back a little to allow your legs to open further as Namjoon kneels between them.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks you, his eyes searching yours for assurance.

The bed shifts as Jungkook settles above you. He holds up a single white, dusty petal. You automatically open your mouth and stick out your tongue to receive the Silver Ward, internally grateful someone thought to grab it. The creamy taste of the flower petal melts in your mouth. In response to Namjoon, you grip a handful of his hair and pull him down, guiding his mouth to yours.

The scent of pine blooms heavily around you, and the taste of orange floods your mouth. Namjoon tastes and smells as sweet and comforting as you thought he would. With your other hand, you work it between your bodies until your fingers graze along his erection. He shudders, stomach clenching as his hips jerk forward.

“Easy,” you whisper between kisses. “Nice and slow.” His velvety skin is warm and smooth as you slide your hand along his length, marveling at the amount of sticky wetness already seeping out from the tip.

“Seven Suns!” Namjoon curses, his lips popping off of yours as you shift your hips up, and the head of his cock presses into your wetness. His eyes widen as your other hand lands on his hip, encouraging him to thrust forward. Inch by inch, he fills you until you’re both writhing, and he’s all the way inside. “It feels—it feels, I do not…the words…” he trails off, jaw going slack as he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.

“Good pussy is supposed to make you speechless,” Jungkook comments slyly. “Now, make her cum like a good mate.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

His steps falter as his body locks up, rocketing through a sensation he hasn’t felt since the night he bonded with you. Alarmed, he holds the jar of barnacles over his crotch and quickly continues walking before Borgia can bark at him for stopping.

Pine and orange blossoms. The scent is so intense, Yoongi could almost believe he was somewhere deep in a spring orchard instead of walking along the rocky coastline of the Unseelie Court. You have fully bonded with Namjoon. The idea that his best friend just made love to his mate doesn’t phase him. He welcomes the additional feeling of Namjoon in the bond. Though, what is most surprising is the energy Yoongi now feels. His exhaustion is waning, and the ache in his head lessening.

🌸🌸🌸

Namjoon pants heavily into your neck, his body still quivering on top of yours. You can feel his cock still pulsing, filling you with thick jets of cum. The orgasm tore through you and ripped right down the bond connected to Yoongi. You hadn’t even considered that could happen. But, as you recover from the post-orgasm haze, you realize the foggy wall separating you from Yoongi has depleted significantly.

That revelation excites you. “I think it’s working,” you say breathlessly. “Namjoon, do you feel him?”

Pushing up on trembling arms, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you, sitting back on his heels. His cock is still hard, jutting up against his stomach and smearing your combined releases across his skin. “I do.” There is evident amazement in Namjoon’s voice, his face splitting with a huge smile. “It is beyond what I imagined. I can feel him, just as I can feel you.”

Your body kicks back into overdrive, reminding you there are two bonds you’ve yet to complete. “I should clean up.” You sit up to slide around Namjoon, but a hand on your shoulder pulls you back.

“If you think Namjoon’s cum will stop me from fucking you, you are mistaken.” Such dirty words coming from Jimin’s sweet mouth have you moaning softly. He’s almost possessive in how he grabs your ankles and pulls you over on top of himself. You straddle his stomach; hands pressed against his chest for support. “Claim me. Mark me as yours,” he demands.

You shift back, feeling his hard length slide between your thighs until it pops out and slaps against his stomach. Jimin grunts, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, prominent canines—making you think so much of Yoongi’s—indenting the plush flesh. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you give it a firm squeeze, watching as a bead of pre-cum oozes out.

You can feel Jungkook’s and Namjoon’s eyes on you as you lean forward and flick your tongue over the tip of Jimin’s cock, collecting the glistening moisture. The taste alone makes you moan, like the best blend of warm spices you’ve ever had. It complements the clove of Yoongi and the orange of Namjoon so well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans. You glance at him, smirking before swirling your tongue around Jimin’s head. All three moan then, Jimin’s hips bucking up and pressing his cock more firmly against your tongue.

“I will not last if you keep doing that,” he whines beautifully.

Sitting up straight, you keep your hand wrapped around his cock and adjust your hips until you hover over him. “Look at me,” you tell him. Those turquoise eyes lock onto yours. The rapture that takes over Jimin’s face as you begin to lower yourself onto him is something that will be ingrained in your memory forever.

He stretches you perfectly. Despite having just been filled with Namjoon, your body needs a moment to adjust. You begin to move, rocking slowly until Jimin starts to rock his hips to go deeper.

“Play with her nipples,” Namjoon suggests.

Taking the direction, Jimin captures one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently. You throw your head back, moaning loudly. Encouraged by your reaction, he does it again. “Jimin!” you cry his name, undulating your hips in a way that has the head of his cock rubbing all the right places.

He stiffens under you when you cry out his name, growing impossibly harder. “When you say my name like that, it does something to me. Seven Suns, say it again!” he begs.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” you string together his name like a prayer, repeating it with each thrust until you’re nearly sobbing his name, begging for relief yourself.

You hadn’t realized Jungkook moved to kneel behind you, only becoming aware of him when one of his hands slides around your hip and his thumb presses against your clit. “Make him cum, Beautiful. Claim that cock as yours.”

The sensation of Jimin tweaking your nipple and Jungkook rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit has your next orgasm careening through you. Black dots spot your vision, your body pulsing around Jimin and encouraging his release. His mouth opens in a silent cry, head thrown back against the mattress.

Before you have time to register what’s happening, Jungkook grabs your hips and pulls them up. You fall forward, landing on Jimin as your ass goes into the air. “Ju-jungkook, wha—OH!” you moan, sucking in a breath and trying to orient yourself.

Heedless of the cum dripping out of you and Jimin’s hard cock just inches away, Jungkook shoves down the front of his trousers and pushes into you in one swift motion. “If I had to watch anymore, I was going to cum in my pants, and well, that would be a waste of a perfectly good bonding orgasm.”

You mewl from the overstimulation, fingers scrabbling over Jimin’s shoulders, searching for purchase to keep yourself from sliding forward. Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips as he sets a relentless, pounding pace.

“He is like an animal,” Namjoon muses, though clearly being turned on by the display. He fists a hand around his own erection. “Do you feel it, Jimin?”

Jimin just grunts, wrapping his arms around your back to help hold you in place. You meet his eyes, watching the swirl of emotions in their oceany depths. “Let go, Beautiful. Give in to it,” he whispers, his lips brushing over yours with each word.

You do. You give in and open yourself to Jungkook. Jungkook’s hips stutter against your ass as your body commands his, drawing forth his orgasm to crest with yours. The final bond slams into place, exploding through your body with pleasure and intensity.

For a moment, you’re shuffling along a desolate shoreline. The moon is high overhead, the ocean screaming as it throws itself against the bluffs a hundred feet below you. “Where am I?”

“What did you say, boy?”

You jerk around, startled by the voice, and meet a wicked set of yellowed eyes that instantly go wide with understanding.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

He was ready the second time you accepted a bond, silently rejoicing in being connected to Jimin. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he kept his face forward so Borgia wouldn’t grow suspicious. The third bond came so quickly after the second that he let his hold slip. Those terrifying moments when he watched as you looked through his eyes, spoke with his mouth…

“Fuck you!” Yoongi yells, throwing the jar of barnacles as hard as he can at Borgia’s face. The glass smacks her in the mouth, shattering. Shards of glass rain down on the rocks at her feet as she screams.

Opening himself to the full power of the bond nearly sweeps Yoongi off his feet. It barrels through him, and he has to step back to keep his balance. Focusing on his strength, Yoongi pulls against the cuffs around his wrists as hard as possible. They are iron, but the strongest Fey magick has been known to break it.

Borgia swipes a hand over her mouth, trying to dislodge errant pieces of glass. “You stupid, stupid worm! I do not care what Chaddick wants. I will see you in pieces before the night is over!”

She lunges at him, hands hooked like claws, aiming for his face. Yoongi grunts, ignoring the bite of iron ripping into his skin as the shackles groan and creak from his efforts. He might not know how to control his power fully, but with the additional potency from the bond now, he only needs a small amount to make a big difference.

The cuff on his right wrist snaps, the iron pieces crumpling in his hand. As Borgia collides with him, he brings up that mangled piece of iron and drives it down as hard as he can into her back. Her fingers dig into his cheeks, the nails slicing through his flesh, but he forces his hand down harder. Yoongi feels the metal pierce her skin and grind against the vertebra in her spine.

“You may not care what he wants, but you should care about what I want!” Yoongi snarls, jerking his hand from side to side to do as much damage as possible. “Your life, you foul bitch! I hope you rot!”

Borgia spasms, her legs jerking wildly as her hands slide down his face. She gives one last snap of her teeth in his face before her body lists to the side and thumps solidly against the ground. A wet cackle bubbles past her lips, her eyes darting up to him. “You are a f-fool if you think he will not find y-you again.”

“You will be lucky if anyone finds you,” Yoongi sneers, crouching down and promptly giving her limp body a push. She rolls, her arms and legs flopping with each turn before disappearing over the edge.

Yoongi stands there momentarily, contemplating the likelihood he could make it to the castle and get his mother out undetected, before deciding against that plan and turning west to begin picking his way across the uneven ground—letting the bond lead him home to you and the three males that mean the most to him in his life. With Borgia gone, Chaddick’s deception will be swift to crumble. His mother will be safe enough, protected by the lies that have kept him away all these years. He only saw her a few times during his time of capture but never was able to get close enough to talk to her. As he twists off the remaining cuff from his left wrist, he wonders if everyone in the castle will be able to feel his increase in magick. That also might mean Chaddick can feel him, too—all the more reason for Yoongi to get home as soon as possible.

He begins to run.

🌸🌸🌸

Everyone is milling along the edge of the meadow surrounding the house. Namjoon increased the radius of the ward, pushing it out to where it used to be, where you’re all now standing.

Jungkook is pacing, his feet kicking in frustration through the ankle-high grass. “We should go find him,” he grumbles for at least the fifth time.

“Be patient,” you insist. “He’s close, but so is that patrol that went by earlier. The last thing we need is multiple bodies out there making noise or accidentally running across the wrong trail and putting them on our scent.”

You can feel the irritation coming from Jungkook, he knows you’re right, but that doesn’t mean he won’t press your buttons. That’s something he’s becoming increasingly good at over the last forty-eight hours.

Once the bond was completed, everyone could feel Yoongi with stark clarity. You felt the moment he drew their magick through you and used it in bursts and fits of strength. Even now, he’s drawing on it to propel himself forward faster through the woods of the Hollow Lands. With each breath you take, you can feel him moving closer.

A noise catches your attention, drawing your eyes to the tree line. There is movement a few yards in. You can see and hear at greater distances, far more than you could days ago. Adding three bonds has seemingly kicked your transformation into high gear.

Finally, you see him. Yoongi peeks out from around a tree. His eyes scan the immediate area, checking for any sign of threats before he takes off in a sprint, coming right for you. He may not be able to see you through the ward, but you know he can feel you.

“Faster,” Jimin urges in a frantic whisper.

As Yoongi draws closer, you have to suppress the urge to scream. He looks barely alive. His clothes are ripped and tattered, hanging loosely from his thin frame. His weight has dropped considerably; his shoulders and collarbone stand out in high contrast through the thin material of his shirt. Angry red rings circle his wrists, and his lips are bruised and cracked.

You open your arms, prepared to grab him as soon as he stumbles through the barrier of the ward. He slumps into your arms, and you nearly drop him, but thankfully Jungkook is there and catches you both.

“Seven Hells,” Yoongi rasps, clutching at your shirt. His eyes flutter, trying to focus on your face before they roll back in his head, and he goes limp in your hold.

Jimin keens in distress, quickly sweeping up Yoongi’s legs. Jungkook takes over for you, holding Yoongi’s torso, and he and Jimin begin to carry him toward the house.

As soon as Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, you felt the bond connected to him shiver and pulse weakly before dropping to a low hum in your chest. “Namjoon,” you say more as a plea than anything. The nymph pulls you close, wrapping his strong arms around you as you watch Jimin and Jungkook work their way up the porch stairs with Yoongi slung between them.

“All will be well, Beautiful. Come, let us go help our mate.” Namjoon ushers you across the yard and into the house, where Yoongi is laid out on the dining table, much like you and Jungkook were. You’re not sure if you can appreciate the irony or not.

The fact Namjoon called Yoongi our mate still resonates with you as you pick up one of Yoongi’s hands, clutching it in your own.

“Namjoon, you know best. What can we do?” Jimin asks as he rips the tattered remains of Yoongi’s shirt off. Yoongi’s chest is like a macabre version of a Klein painting, blue and black with bruises and dried blood.

Namjoon moves around to stand at Yoongi’s head and places a hand on his forehead. “He is burning up. A fever. Most likely infection from the iron that was around his wrist. Exhaustion, certainly. He did not stop running the whole way here, meaning he made a nearly three-day trip in less than two. I think what he needs right now is some rest and an infusion of vitamins, nutrients, and something for the infection.”

Jungkook finishes taking off Yoongi’s pants. “Beautiful, want to help me get him cleaned up?”

You startle, tearing your eyes away from staring at the myriad of discoloration covering Yoongi’s body. “Yes. Yes, of course.” You gently set Yoongi’s hand back down on the table and follow Jungkook into the bathroom to retrieve towels and a cleansing bar.

“He’s strong. He’ll be okay.” Jungkook moves back to the dining table, setting the supplies down. “I’ve seen Yoongi in a worse state than this.”

“Worse than this?” You can’t imagine that.

Jimin looks longingly at Yoongi before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead and follows Namjoon outside to collect everything needed for the infusion.

Filling a bowl with warm water from the solar tank by the sink in the kitchen, Jungkook sighs. “Yeah. Hard to believe, but when we first escaped from the Unseelie Court, the first few weeks were not kind to us at all.”

“What happened?” You dip a cloth into the warm water and begin to gently clean the various cuts and wounds littering Yoongi’s body.

“I remember being woken up by Yoongi tipping my bed onto its side. I was spitting mad, cursing at him, and yelling until I saw that he was covered in blood from head to toe. I still can’t recall the exact words he said to me, but I didn’t need to hear them. I just knew I had to follow him, do whatever I could to protect him from whatever was happening.” Jungkook works diligently with tender touches, careful not to jostle Yoongi too much. “My bed was in the royal barracks, but thankfully in one of the outer wings. I don’t know that we could have slipped out had my bed been somewhere deeper in. We managed to slip out through an unmanned postern gate.”

You tilt your head, watching Jungkook and feeling your appreciation and affection for him grow with every word. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Jungkook snorts and shakes his head. “I was a shit friend most of the time, especially in the beginning. Mad that he wouldn’t tell me everything that happened and then horrified when he finally did. What Chaddick did to his brother, right in front of Yoongi’s eyes…that’s not something you can move on from easily. Yoongi was in a bad place for a long time. He barely ate anything unless Namjoon or I forced him to.”

“I’m glad he got better.”

“All thanks to Jimin. It wasn’t until Jimin finally made it into the clearing—once the immediate danger had passed—that Yoongi got some life back into him.”

You let that thought soak for a while, ruminating and sitting with it while you and Jungkook finish cleaning Yoongi up and wrapping him in a blanket. When Jimin and Namjoon come back in, their arms ladened with baskets from the garden, they agree to move Yoongi to the bed to afford him the best chance at resting comfortably.

“Beautiful, there is a ceramic bowl above the kitchen sink and a mortar and pestle. Do you mind bringing them to me?” Namjoon asks as he and Jimin begin to sort the things in the baskets on the bed.

The bowl and tools are easy to find. You pull them down and take them to Namjoon. “Is this something he will need to ingest?”

“Not necessarily. Much like the poultice I made to help heal your side, this works through dermal absorption. It can be ingested, but it more or less works the same either way. Though, it can be a bit vile tasting, so through the skin is best in my opinion,” Namjoon explains as he begins to crush different sprigs of greenery and colorful petals with the pestle.

He continues to work in silence under the watchful eyes of Jimin and Jungkook. You spend most of your time staring at Yoongi, watching his chest's shallow rise and fall. His silvery hair is longer, greasy, and disheveled, but he’s still no less handsome than before.

Jimin holds out a small glass tube with a cork stopper to you. “For his lips. It is a moisturizing oil that he favors. Just a drop will do.”

You unstopper the glass and press your finger over the opening, upending the tube quickly before righting it again. A small drop of oil sits on the pad of your finger. It smells like honeysuckle. You gently rub the oil across Yoongi’s lips, being extra careful around the swollen split on the right side.

When Namjoon is done mixing the infusion, he begins to rub it into any exposed skin methodically. Jungkook pulls the blanket back, giving Namjoon access to Yoongi’s legs and stomach. The mixture smells like bitter greens with the faintest hint of mint.

“And now we just wait?” you ask when he’s done.

“Unfortunately, that is all we can do for now. He needs to rest. His magick, the bond, and the infusion will do the rest.” Namjoon gathers the empty baskets and the used tools with Jungkook’s help. “We will be outside. You two should get some rest, too. Call if you need anything.” He presses a brief kiss to your forehead before starting for the door.

Jungkook blows you a kiss over his shoulder, giving you a look before he disappears behind Namjoon. It was a look of contentment, assurance that everything would be okay. You’re grateful for their optimism and support.

“I will go as well,” Jimin murmurs, a forlorn expression on his face as he begins toward the door.

“Jimin, no, wait. Please stay.” You settle on the bed beside Yoongi and hold a hand out to Jimin. “He would want you here when he wakes up.”

“But you are his mate,” Jimin murmurs and purses his lips. You can tell he’s hesitating.

“And you are my mate…but most importantly, you are his love. Now, get your ass over here, or I’ll be forced to make you.” You raise your eyebrows, daring him to argue.

Jimin’s lips quirk in amusement. “You drive a hard bargain.” He kicks off his shoes before climbing onto the bed on your other side. The uncertainty in his touch is gone as he presses up against your back, draping his arm over your side so his hand rests on Yoongi’s chest. Your cheek rests against Yoongi’s shoulder, and your eyes slide closed as you sigh and relax into Jimin’s hold.

Bonding with Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon is something you will never regret. Not only did it help bring Yoongi home, but it also has broken down every barrier ever erected between you. The connections to Namjoon and Jungkook hum with potent vitality, letting you know they are drawing on small measures of their magick—probably working in the garden.

“Jimin?”

“Yes, Beautiful?” he murmurs against your neck, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Will you take me to see the Seelie Court someday?”

Jimin shifts behind you, pressing even closer. His lips tickle the back of your neck as he speaks. “Of course, you are my mate. You belong by my side.” The words are breathy, half coherent as he fights the pull of sleep—but you hear them clearly, right down to your soul.

The blanket shifts, almost drawing you out of your half-sleep. Lips brush over yours, making you hum. “Jimin,” you breathe as another kiss presses against your lips. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not Jimin.” Your eyes snap open and meet those green and gold ones you have dreamt of nearly every night. Yoongi presses his lips to yours again, his tongue teasing along the seam. You automatically open for him and can’t help the moan as his alluring clove scent floods your senses.

You pull back, but Yoongi follows, reconnecting your lips in a desperate kiss. “Yoongi,” you try for firm, but his name comes out more like a needy mewl than anything.

“Please do not stop me. I need you.” He pleads between kisses. Yoongi shifts more, rolling onto his side. The movement dislodges Jimin’s hand, jolting him from sleep.

“Y-yoongi?” Jimin murmurs. “What—wow, okay.” Jimin presses a hand against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Slow down, Yoons. We will take care of you.”

The grunt of frustration that comes from Yoongi is cute. He reluctantly pulls back, breaking the kiss and letting Jimin push him onto his back. “Mini, my love,” Yoongi whispers like he’s finally registering who has their hands on him.

“Just relax,” you coo, smoothing a hand across Yoongi’s forehead and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Tell us what you need.”

“I need to feel you,” he states, reaching for you again. You let him draw you in, the bond blooming tenfold as you give in. His hand reaches out, searching until Jimin grabs it. “I thought all was lost.” The words are whispered fervently against your lips. “Never again.” Yoongi breaks away from the kiss to pull Jimin in. You sit back and watch as they come together, their lips molding and moving with familiarity.

The bond pushes and pulls in an all-consuming way. After you were bonded with Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon, you spent the rest of the night in the throws of passion, much like the night you bonded with Yoongi. It’s a visceral thing, a baser instinct that is in control. They each watched as you pleasured and received pleasure in turn but never went so far as to touch each other. So, seeing Jimin and Yoongi get lost in the feel of one another brings a new sensation to your body—one that has you squeezing your thighs together and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Beautiful,” Jimin catches your attention. He presses light kisses across Yoongi’s chest, his half-lidded gaze sliding to you. “Suck his cock and remind him who he belongs to.”

Yoongi groans. “Yes. Please,” he begs. “I need to feel your mouth on me.”

You sit up on your knees, working with Jimin to shove the blankets back. Yoongi’s body is no longer a patchwork of colors. His skin is now smooth and blemish free like before. Kneeling between Yoongi’s thighs, you marvel at him and the wonder of the infusion Namjoon made.

Before you can give any attention to Yoongi’s straining erection, Jimin catches your chin with a finger and slowly brings your lips to his. He tastes faintly of chamomile and clove, a taste combination you will never grow tired of. All that’s missing is orange and coconut. At the thought of Namjoon and Jungkook, you feel the tethers of their bonds pinch with barely concealed amusement. They know Yoongi is awake and are very aware of the state he’s in—that all three of you are in.

“Be good for Yoongi, little mate, and I will give you your own reward,” Jimin promises with an encouraging smack to your ass.

You need little encouragement. Leaning forward with your eyes locked on Yoongi’s, you run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, earning a guttural moan from him. “No teasing,” he whimpers.

The look on his face is desperate, tugging at your heart. Wrapping a hand around him, you swirl your tongue around the head a few times before taking him into your mouth. His pre-cum is sweet, driving you to seek more. You take him as far as possible, letting your throat convulse around him with the intrusion.

“Perfect,” Jimin says. “You are so perfect.” You can’t tell if he’s talking about you or Yoongi, but either way, the praise makes you moan around Yoongi’s cock. “You like that?” He punctuates his question with a tug on your pants, working them down over your ass until they’re caught mid-thigh. “I think you do.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he runs a finger between your thighs, delighting in the sticky moisture he finds.

You work over Yoongi, using your hand to squeeze and pulse in time with the suction from your tongue and lips. Yoongi throws his head back and curses when Jimin’s cock pushes into you. “Oh, Jimin!” All three of you shudder, overwhelmed by feeling each other physically and through the bonds.

The tightness in your lower belly increases with each thrust from Jimin and moans from Yoongi. “Make him cum, Beautiful. Do it.”

Yoongi jerks under you as you take your other hand and cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. He moans, his whole body going rigid as the first gush of cum hits your tongue. Jimin’s hips crash into your ass as he follows Yoongi over the edge. The feeling of Jimin pulsing inside of you triggers your own release. You hungrily swallow down all Yoongi gives you, licking him clean between shaky breaths as your body just as eagerly milks everything it can from Jimin.

“Holy fuck,” you pant. Your whole body feels like jello, trembling as Jimin helps you lay back down beside Yoongi. Your pants are still around your thighs. You can’t be bothered to fix them yet.

Jimin stands up from the bed. His half-hard cock glistens in the light coming in through the crack in the curtains over the window. “Are you okay?” he asks Yoongi as he delicately tucks himself away and does up the laces on the front of his pants.

“Much better now,” Yoongi sighs with contentment. “I apologize for my behavior. I was away from you for too long. There was something inside of me, some pent-up possessiveness…When I awoke, I could think of little else besides claiming you in any way I could.”

“You should never apologize for that,” you assure him. “Are you well enough to tell us what happened? What do we need to do? Is everything okay in the Unseelie Court?”

Yoongi holds up his hand, slowing down your questions. “Peace, my mate. I feel well enough to tell you all what happened. Let us begin there.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

His best friend. His claimed brother. His lover.

Mates to his mate.

She looks so radiant sitting among them, arrayed as they are around the table in front of him. They insisted he sit in the rocking chair to continue resting as much as possible. Jungkook drags the chair closer to the table, fluffing the pillows in the seat and draping a blanket over his knees.

“First, I would like to leave for the Unseelie Court once we finish this conversation. The sooner we arrive, the better. When I escaped, Chaddick was supposedly overseeing a command change within the border guard.” Yoongi shifts in his seat, adjusting the blanket in his lap. “By now, I imagine he is aware of Borgia’s death—“

“How did you kill her?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a knowing smile. “Iron through the spinal cord, pushed her limp body over the cliffs along Tidal Bluff.”

Jungkook whistles appreciatively. “Damn. I wish I could have seen that. Good riddance.”

“I was able to confirm that it was through some of her dark magick enchantments and glamors that Chaddick has been able to lie and deceive openly. They”—he pauses and takes a deep breath—” they had been working on experiments. Ones that would allow him to take the magick of another Fey through their death. The first attempt was when he murdered my father. Apparently, Father learned about Chaddick having Borgia try it out on lesser Fey—pixies and dryads from the eastern regions. It is what started everything. Now that Borgia is dead, the truth will reveal itself as the glamor and magick begins to fade.”

Namjoon leans into your side, something that greatly warms Yoongi on the inside. “Good riddance indeed.”

Jimin clears his throat, garnering everyone’s attention. “Well, Yoongi, my love, are you ready to take back your court and greet your people?”

🌸🌸🌸

The journey to the Unseelie Court takes two full days of continuous walking. Approaching the border had you on the verge of panicking, thinking back to the last time you crossed it. But there isn’t a single guard in sight. In fact, you haven’t seen a single other being, other than the occasional woodland creature, since leaving Namjoon’s glade.

“Where is everyone?”

You stand beside Jungkook, his hand tucked into yours, staring up at the vacant battlements along the curtain wall surrounding the castle of the Unseelie Court. The portcullis is up, leading directly into the equally as empty inner ward.

“I do not know. Keep your wits about you,” Yoongi says softly before leading your small group under the barbican and through the front gate.

There is an eerie feeling, standing in the middle of the ward, and the only sound you hear is the breathing of your mates and the crunch of their boots on the pavers. “Something isn’t right,” you say, your voice sounding too loud in your own ears.

“I can still feel the taint of darkness covering the grounds. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Namjoon agrees with your assessment.

You notice a few broken pieces of furniture scattered around the inner walls like it was tossed from windows and balconies above to shatter in the courtyard. Spots of color peek out from the around the furniture. Children's toys and trinkets litter the walkways between the turrets like they were hurriedly abandoned. It’s unsettling. It feels like a tomb; you hope that isn’t some ridiculous foreshadowing. As much as you love a good plot twist, you’ve had just about enough of them lately.

Movement from one of the upper doorways of a balcony draws your attention. You gesture up to where you see another flash of movement. “Yoongi, look.”

“Yoongi, is that you?” calls a soft voice from the balcony. The door opens, revealing a handsome woman with silver hair piled on her head and familiar green-gold eyes. She’s wearing a midnight blue gown, the line of the bodice embroidered with silver stars.

“Mother!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Oh, my boy!” she cries, disappearing back through the doorway in a flurry of skirts. “Yoongi!” You can hear her calling his name from within the castle. It echoes down and through the main hall, where the door is propped open.

By the time Yoongi reaches the entrance, she’s barreling through it. Her loud cries shake her whole body as she clings to Yoongi. “Mother, peace, please. Be calm. I am home.” You can hear the choked emotion in his words as he tries to soothe her, but more prominently, you can feel his flood of emotions through the bond. It nearly buckles your knees.

Jimin cups your elbow, steadying you as you sway on your feet. “Use our strength,” he murmurs into your ear. With a calming breath, you reach out to the other three bonds, letting them stem the tide from Yoongi, each sharing in his sorrow, pain, and joy.

“What has happened here, Mother? Where is everyone?” Yoongi finally pulls away but keeps his hands braced on his mother’s shoulders. Her eyes flick around, taking in the rest of your group.

“Jungkook? Jimin? Seven Hells, what are you two doing here? And a woodland nymph?” Her eyes find yours, and she stiffens. “And her—she, is that—“

“Mother, please, I will explain it all. But, first, what is happening here?”

She gestures vaguely over her shoulder toward the castle. “Chaddick—something went wrong. He flew in on that damned serpent of his and began screaming about how you escaped. I did not know if it was true, but I prayed it was. I tried to rally The Guard, but they would not listen to me. He fled, taking them all with him! Hundreds of Unseelie–everyone from the castle–they emptied the armory and the coffers. I am only glad they left the city alone. I have not yet had the heart to tell our people. They do not know what has happened within the walls, only that the guard marched out the gate.” Her face darkens with anger. “I watched them move south from the parapet. I sent word to the Seelie Court as soon as I could. What did you do? How did you escape? Who is this human?”

He fled to the south. Chaddick is gone. You can feel the disappointment and anger radiating off of Yoongi. “I escaped by killing Borgia. Her body is surely rotting at the bottom of the Lunar Sea by now. The truth will be revealed now. Her glamour died with her. That is what sent Chaddick into a panic. He knows it is over for him. His plans for taking over the Unseelie Court are ruined.” Yoongi takes a step back, letting his hands drop from her shoulders. “As for the woodland nymph, Mother, let me introduce you to one of my best friends who has helped save my life over the last ten years. If it were not for Namjoon offering me sanctuary in his home in the Hollow Lands, I would have had no place to hide. Jimin and Jungkook have been with me every step of the way, guiding me and reminding me to keep fighting. They were the ones that helped me find a way to access my power—all of my power. They brought me her.” He gestures to you. “My mate.”

“I see,” she says, giving you a strained smile. It’s polite but not warm. “Come inside. Tell me everything.”

The inside of the castle belongs in one of your grandpa’s stories. Soaring ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers and halls that extend into darkness, lined with life-sized family portraits spanning generations. If it weren’t for the haunted feeling from being so empty, you would be far more intrigued with what you pass as you follow along with Yoongi holding one hand and Jimin holding the other.

You stand with Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon just behind Yoongi, who is at the base of a dias where his mother sits on her throne—the only place she says doesn’t feel like it has darkness still clinging to it. It takes Yoongi nearly an hour to recount everything for his mom. He leaves out very few details, stopping to answer her questions whenever she asks them.

“It was Jimin’s idea that I try to find a human mate. We knew the possibilities, the potential for access to more power. It was figured that if I could access my inner well and wield more of my power safely, I could use it to defeat Chaddick. At first, that was all I wanted. I did not care who it was or whether or not they stayed after giving me what I needed. But she made me realize that I did care, and even though our time together has not been long, she means more to me than I have the words to express. Someone could argue it is only the bond causing me to feel this way, but I can speak plainly that it is not. Her tenacity and spirit intrigued me before we said our vows. The moment she opened her mouth and cursed at me, I yearned for her fire. She is my reason for breathing, what pushed me to beat Borgia and finally free our people from Chaddick’s control.”

Yoongi’s mother slowly stands up from her seat, her sapphire gown rustling over the stone steps as she comes down to stand before you. “My dear,” emotion and tears choke her words. “I did not mean to judge you. I had always imagined my boys–my boy, finding a mate whom he loved. His love for you is clear regardless of how you found yourself in his life.” She clears her throat, blinking away the emotion in her eyes. “Would it—is it okay if I hug you?”

You laugh, nodding enthusiastically as tears threaten to spill down your own cheeks. She wraps her arms around you, squeezing and whispering her thanks over and over again. When she finally steps back, Yoongi takes her place, burying his face in your neck. You feel three other bodies press in around you, cocooning you in safety and comfort.

Leaning back, his green and gold-flecked eyes meet yours. “Welcome to my home, Beautiful. The home you helped save. You may have it if you wish. You deserve it. Or I will build you your own if you want it. Just stay. Please, stay with us,” he says. Even with darkness brewing to the south, the bond floods with hope, filling you to the brim with possibilities.

“All of us together?” “Forever,” comes three very enthusiastic answers, though they can’t entirely hide the tiny grain of worry underneath it all. You know as long as Chaddick is alive, regardless of how far he runs, none of your mates will be truly safe.

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themininthemoon · 1 year ago

Text

If Our Hands Touched

ONE SHOT | AO3

12,925 words

Jimin’s smile widens, eyes crinkling up at the corners. He unfurls before Yoongi’s eyes, the protective way he’d been holding himself opening up and becoming more receptive.

“Hello, Min Yoongi.”

They smile at each other.

Yoongi feels silly, heart beating hard in his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says the words before his lips can catch them, immediate regret creasing his forehead. He bows his head, waiting for the sound of Jimin leaving the meeting room—it wouldn’t be the first time Yoongi’s run a potential surrogate off, though last time it certainly wasn’t with sweet words—but it doesn’t come.

He looks up to find Jimin smiling at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Well, thank you, Min Yoongi, I’m glad I passed the first part of the interview at least.”

The omega they pair him with is pretty, but guarded, holding themself stiff on their side of the booth. Their arms are crossed tight over their chest, gaze down on the table between them. They have a warm, citrusy scent that compliments Yoongi’s own woody bergamot. He wonders if it’s on purpose before deciding it’s a coincidence—so little about this process has been left up to chance, Yoongi likes the idea of this small happenstance. The omegas hair is cut short, but that’s not really enough to tell Yoongi their gender just by looking.

The omega is very pretty.

“What are your pronouns?” Yoongi asks, leaning forward in his seat with his hands clasped together on the tabletop between them.

The omega smiles and that is pretty too.

“He/him,” the omega says with a voice like bells chiming, sweet and warm. It matches his smile. “My name is Jimin.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi repeats, tasting the syllables. “I’m Min Yoongi; he/him too.”

Jimin’s smile widens, eyes crinkling up at the corners. He unfurls before Yoongi’s eyes, the protective way he’d been holding himself opening up and becoming more receptive.

“Hello, Min Yoongi.”

They smile at each other.

Yoongi feels silly, heart beating hard in his chest.

He looks up to find Jimin smiling at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Well, thank you, Min Yoongi, I’m glad I passed the first part of the interview at least.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi apologizes, sincere. “I’m usually much better at being professional.”

“That’s okay,” Jimin reassures him. “This isn’t a wholly professional decision. I think… it’s quite emotional, really. Was your partner unable to come with you today?”

Yoongi looks at the empty space beside himself in surprise, blinking. He looks back up at Jimin and laughs quietly, shaking his head.

“I don’t have a partner,” he says.

Jimin hides his surprise well, but Yoongi knows he must be feeling it.

The last two surrogates had heard he was alone and ended the meetings, apologetic.

Jimin doesn’t move. He has a curious little smile on his face, head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“You’ve just decided that fatherhood is for you?”

Yoongi shrugs then he nods, firmly, like he means it.

“I did.”

“And you don’t want to wait to find a partner to have a child with?”

Yoongi purses his lips against his discomfort with this line of questioning, knowing that the power here is in Jimin’s hands—Yoongi may get his pick of omegas, but the omega has to agree too.

“No. I—” Yoongi licks his lips. “I had a partner for six years. We parted ways due to differences in opinion about children—he asked me to wait, so I waited. And waited. And then one day, finally, he said that he didn’t want children at all,” Yoongi laces his fingers together on the tabletop. “That was the end of things.”

Jimin looks sad.

Yoongi wonders what he’s thinking.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” is what Jimin says. Yoongi braces for rejection. “I’d like to meet again, if you agree to it, so we can talk a bit more about your plans and how this will work.”

Yoongi perks up, sitting straight in his seat.

“I would like that,” he says.

Jimin smiles. He stands and bows his head.

“It was nice to meet you, Alpha Min. I hope to see you again soon.”

Yoongi stands quickly, bowing his head in turn.

“And you, Omega Park. Thank you for your consideration.”

Jimin smiles.

He leaves.

Jimin goes to his next introductory meeting with a warmth in his belly, smiling sweetly at the couple waiting for him in the next room.

They’re very nice, stable.

“We’ve been trying for years,” the omega says tearfully, hand clasped between their mate’s.

Jimin nods his head, swallowing hard, hands on his stomach. The alpha hasn’t stopped looking him up and down since they introduced themselves, but Jimin has learned this is normal.

They’re kind and Jimin feels for them, but he can’t stop thinking of Yoongi.

The next couple he meets too, are warm and kind and desperately searching for help, but Jimin thinks of the lone alpha who just wants to be a dad and he smiles and tells them it was nice to meet them without mentioning meeting again.

He thinks about Yoongi for the rest of the day, his hands, his voice, his sincerity.

Jimin bites his lip, shaking the thoughts away.

“Drink up!” Taehyung calls over the din of the bar. “Once you’re carrying there won’t be anymore soju for you!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and laughs, tapping his glass to Taehyung’s before taking a sip.

“That assumes some couple is going to choose me to carry their pup,” he says.

“Of course they will!” Taehyung enthuses. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Look at you.”

Jimin flushes and punches Taehyung in the shoulder.

“What about you?” Taehyung asks. “Did you meet any couples with potential today?”

“Mm, no,” Jimin says. Taehyung deflates. “I met an alpha though.”

Taehyung perks back up.

“No shit, is he cute?”

Jimin rolls his eyes, taking another drink.

“At the center, you goof, not like. For me.”

“Oh. Well, is he cute?” Taehyung repeats.

Jimin thinks about Yoongi, his hands, his voice, his sincerity.

He blushes, cheeks going warm.

“Yes.”

“Ooh, you like him,” Taehyung says, eyebrows high.

“No!” Jimin exclaims.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Taehyung quotes.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I don’t like him. I just think he has potential.”

Taehyung looks skeptical, but doesn’t push.

“What’s his story?” He asks. “Why’s he trying to do it alone?”

Jimin wets his lips. He shrugs.

“He said he had a partner for many years who lied about wanting children.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“No shit? That sucks.”

“Yeah. Six years.”

“Six?!”

Jimin nods and Taehyung whistles.

“That’s a hell of a thing to lie about, especially for so long.”

“Right?” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not very fair.”

“I guess I see why he’s decided to just get it done himself then if he waited that long for nothing.”

“Yeah,” Jimin murmurs, looking down into his drink. He sighs. “I think I want to do this for him.”

“That fast? You talked, what? Five minutes?”

“Yeah, I know. I just—” Jimin presses his lips together. He shrugs. “There’s something about him.”

“You like him,” Taehyung cautions, no more levity in his voice.

“I don’t,” Jimin insists, shaking his head. “I barely know him.”

“But you want to give him a baby.”

“Well, isn’t that what this whole surrogacy thing is about?”

Taehyung sighs.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Jimin. It’s difficult enough to have a baby and give it up, but if you develop feelings for the sire…”

“I’m not developing feelings for anyone,” Jimin huffs, knocking back his drink. “And you’re the one that convinced me surrogacy would be a good fit.”

“I know,” Taehyung frowns. He taps his fingertips on the bartop. “I’m not sure if I regret that yet.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. He gestures for another round.

“So… '' Yoongi drags the word out, hands in his pockets. They’re walking through the gardens on the clinic grounds, coat collars turned up against the wind. He clears his throat, looking at Jimin. “What do you like to do, Jimin?”

“I dance,” Jimin says, smiling a little. His hands are tucked in the turns of his elbows. “And I like to read and I play video games sometimes. I’m not very good,” he laughs quietly. “But it’s fun. I spend a lot of time with my friends,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m pretty boring.”

There’s a little smile on Yoongi’s face, teeth peeking out from behind his lips, eyes soft.

“I don’t think you’re boring,” he says and Jimin has to look away.

“What about you, Yoongi? What do you like to do?” Jimin asks after a beat, turning back to find Yoongi’s eyes and getting only the side of his face.

Yoongi pauses, thinking before he answers.

“I… write,” he says at length. “And I like to read, listen to music, watch films, that kind of thing. I play piano pretty well.”

Jimin’s eyes brighten. He straightens, smiling.

“You play piano? I love the piano! I never got to learn because I was so obsessed with dance, but I’ve always loved a good accompanist.”

Yoongi chuckles, low.

The warm sound travels through the cold air and sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine. He swallows hard, head down. His chapped cheeks are suddenly very warm.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi hums thoughtfully.

“Mostly rap,” he says, easy.

Jimin blinks in surprise and Yoongi catches it, smirking something sly in the corner of his mouth.

“You didn’t expect that, huh?”

Jimin huffs a laugh. He shakes his head.

“No,” he admits.

Yoongi knocks their shoulders together, a friendly gesture.

“What about you?”

Jimin blows into his cold hands before he answers. He shrugs.

“I like a lot of r&b and jazz, hip-hop, classical, the gamut, really.”

“Really?” Yoongi nods appreciatively. “What’s your favourite song right now?”

“Heize – We Don’t Talk Together,” Jimin says immediately.

Yoongi’s steps stutter.

“You don’t like it?” Jimin asks, eyes wide, curious.

He’s stopped to look back at Yoongi. Yoongi shakes his head.

“No!” Yoongi clears his throat. “No, I do, sorry, something must have tripped me.”

“Oh,” Jimin frowns, looking down at the walking path for something that could have done so. He sees nothing and shrugs. “You should be careful.”

Yoongi nods. “Of course, yeah.”

They continue walking.

“Well, what about you?” Jimin asks after a moment.

“Hm?”

“You’re favourite song right now,” Jimin prompts.

“Oh!” Yoongi nods. “It’s always ‘Big Poppa’.”

Jimin laughs.

“What?” Yoongi asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Jimin shakes his head, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just– ‘Big Poppa’?”

It takes a moment for the words to click but when they do Yoongi throws his head back and laughs.

Their shoulders brush.

Jimin tucks his hands back into his elbows, arms crossed.

“What made you decide to be a surrogate, Jimin?” Yoongi asks after a comfortable silence.

“Oh, I— my friend convinced me, actually.” Jimin licks his lips. “I’ll be honest… it’s not a very altruistic reason, but…” Jimin sighs. He shrugs. “I lost my job and had to use all my savings to keep a roof over my head so…”

“The money,” Yoongi nods.

Jimin shrinks a little, but Yoongi smiles at him.

“Hey, no judgment here. I just hope you’ve really thought it through?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jimin nods. “You know there’s mandated therapy before they let you be a surrogate here.”

“I did know that,” Yoongi says, smiling a little to take the sting out. “But still, it’s not an easy thing.”

“No,” Jimin agrees. “But I think… being able to do this for someone else is kind of special.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says and Jimin looks at him.

He remembers that Yoongi’s here for the same reasons as all the other couples he’s met in the past few weeks.

“Yoongi,” Jimin starts softly. He waits for Yoongi to meet his eyes before he goes on. “You’re really very serious about this baby, right?”

Yoongi blinks. He straightens.

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Jimin nods once, firmly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I think we should talk a bit more, but…” Jimin takes a deep breath. He squares his shoulders. “I want to do this for you.”

Yoongi stares, mouth agape.

“You’re serious?” he demands.

Jimin nods again, firmly. He refuses to acknowledge the twinge of nerves, the alarm bells ringing in the back of his head telling him this is a bad idea.

“I’m serious.”

Yoongi rushes him, startling a squeak out of Jimin when he’s lifted off his feet, Yoongi’s arms tight around his middle.

Yoongi’s nose is pressed to Jimin’s collarbone and he takes a deep breath of Jimin’s warm, citrusy scent.

“Thank you,” he breathes, breath hot and damp against the peek of skin where Jimin’s shirt collar falls open.

He sets Jimin back on his feet, moving his hands to Jimin’s shoulders.

They look each other in the eye and Jimin is moved to see tears in Yoongi’s lashes.

“Thank you,” the alpha says again.

Jimin smiles, blinking away tears of his own. He wipes at his cheeks.

“You made me cry,” he sniffles, flapping a hand Yoongi’s way. “Stop it.”

Yoongi laughs.

“I feel like this might be a bad idea,” Taehyung says again.

Jimin huffs.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he says, tugging a beanie on over his blonde hair. “It’s a good and selfless idea—”

“—that you’re getting paid for.”

“… Yeah,” Jimin glares over at Taehyung. “Need I remind you again that this was your idea?”

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest.

“Please, don’t.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I don’t get why you’re so set against this suddenly.”

“I’m not suddenly against anything, but you agreeing to give a baby to an alpha you clearly like when the whole thing about surrogacy is needing to remain professional and unattached.”

“I am professional!” Jimin protests. “And unattached!”

“You’re wearing lipgloss,”

Jimin presses his shining lips together.

“So.”

Taehyung throws his arms up in the air and storms down the hallway toward his room.

Jimin rolls his eyes at the dramatic display and finishes bundling up for the cold to come. He slides on his shoes and calls a “Goodbye!” down the hall before stepping out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Yoongi is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs with a to go cup of hot chocolate, dark hair pushed back from his forehead. He’s wearing black glasses and a black peacoat, black turtleneck underneath with black slacks and black loafers and Jimin has to pause and take a breath before he smiles and says his hellos and thank yous as he takes the proffered cup of hot cocoa from Yoongi’s hand.

“Thank you for picking me up,” Jimin says quietly.

Yoongi shrugs.

“It’s on my way,” he says.

“Still,” Jimin smiles. “Thank you. It’ll be nice to have company on the walk.”

“Of course,” Yoongi smiles, eyes darting briefly to meet Jimin’s before turning back to the path ahead. “It must have been boring before.”

“A little,” Jimin agrees. He takes a sip of his cocoa, relishing in its rich warmth. “My roommate comes with me sometimes, but he’s really busy with work these days.”

“You’ve mentioned him before,” Yoongi murmurs, “Taehyung, right?”

JImin nods.

“He sounds like a good friend.”

“The best,” Jimin agrees, smiling. “We’ve known each other since we were kids—he’s my soulmate.”

Jimin isn’t sure what the face Yoongi makes means, but he shoves down on the urge to clarify that he means that as platonically as he possibly can. That’s not really Yoongi’s concern.

“And he’s the one who suggested you be a surrogate?” Yoongi asks after a lengthy pause where they drank their drinks in silence.

Jimin nods, meek. He holds his hot chocolate in both hands.

“Yeah.”

Yoongi nods.

A long silence.

“I guess you should thank him for me,” Yoongi says, cracking half a smile.

Jimin huffs a laugh, looking down at the sidewalk ahead of them.

“Can do.”

They walk quietly for a while, letting the sudden awkwardness dissipate into the cold winter air.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Yes!” Jimin straightens. “I did, yes, thank you for asking. Did you?”

Yoongi nods then shrugs his shoulders, making a face.

“I don’t sleep much.” He says.

“That’s no good,” Jimin frowns. “You’ve gotta get as much sleep as possible before your baby is here.”

“Is that right? Isn’t it a strength to be practiced at sleeplessness?”

“No,” Jimin says stubbornly.

Yoongi chuckles.

“Okay, I’ll try to sleep more then.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi laughs, running a hand through his hair. He looks away from Jimin, shaking his head with an amused turn to his lips. He mutters something under his breath that Jimin doesn’t ask him to repeat, afraid he heard that “He’s cute” correctly.

It’s their fifth meeting.

They get to speak to a nurse from the clinic today.

“Alright, we’ve got all the important blood work and paperwork done. Checkups: done. Home check: done. You’ve both been approved by psych and of course the compatibility team. Everything looks good,” the nurse smiles at them where they sit on opposite sides of one of the small tables in the meeting rooms, her at the end. “I just have a couple questions to go over and a few things for you to sign and then you’ll be,” she beams, smile moving from Jimin to land brightly on Yoongi. “Ready for your baby.”

Yoongi’s heart skips a beat, smiling at her with his whole face, teeth and gums on display. He turns his smile on Jimin and reaches across the table to lay a hand on top of Jimin’s where they’re folded together on the tabletop.

“Thank you,” he says.

Jimin smiles back, cheeks a pretty pink.

“I’m glad I can do this for you,” he says softly.

The nurse clears her throat quietly and Yoongi takes his hand back, tucking it close to his body, suddenly self conscious. He turns his attention back to her, wanting to make sure he hears everything he needs to.

She smiles understandingly.

“Now, first things first,” she’s holding a clipboard up, pen at the ready. She’s not looking at him. “What was your preferred insemination method?”

“Natural,” Yoongi blurts without thinking. He has to physically restrain himself from facepalming, gritting his teeth to keep his expression neutral and not look Jimin’s way. That was not what he’d decided before. “That is… if Jimin is comfortable with that. I am also open to artificial insemination.”

“Um,” Jimin is pink, looking down at the tabletop with his hands splayed in front of him. “I think I would prefer trying artificial insemination… first.”

“Of course,” Yoongi nods immediately, waving his hands like he can brush the word ‘natural’ from the air. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with, Jimin.”

The nurse nods, making a note on her clipboard.

“Excellent!” She chirps. “We usually recommend the natural method as a last resort for the comfort of our omega patients, but some do choose to go with that from the get-go. If you change your mind you can do so up to forty-eight hours before your insemination appointment.”

Yoongi nods, smile an awkward line across his lips.

Jimin’s head is still down, eyes on his hands.

Yoongi closes his eyes and breathes out slowly through his nose.

He fucked up.

He goes through the rest of the paperwork mechanically, mind on Jimin and making sure he isn’t uncomfortable, but there doesn’t ever seem to be a right time to reassure the omega. He’ll have to wait until the paperwork is done and the nurse leaves.

Yoongi sighs quietly. He initials on the dotted lines.

As soon as the nurse leaves Jimin moves to stand.

“Jimin, wait,” Yoongi calls, quiet but firm.

Jimin stills, turning to face Yoongi. His cheeks immediately go pink again, eyes down instead of meeting Yoongi’s gaze.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi sighs softly and Jimin’s scent blooms in the small room. Yoongi swallows hard. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable earlier. We should have discussed insemination beforehand so there wouldn’t be any surprises.”

“It’s okay!” Jimin says. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It just surprised me.”

Yoongi presses his lips together but decides not to press.

“Okay,” he nods, breathing in Jimin’s soft, citrus scent. It curls around him and Yoongi struggles to keep his own scent close to the skin. He swallows hard again, throat bobbing. “That’s good.”

Jimin nods back, reaching for his bag.

“I’ll see you next week,” he says.

“Next week,” Yoongi agrees.

Jimin smiles.

“Goodbye, Yoongi.”

Jimin is inseminated for the first time on a Wednesday.

It feels strange.

They ask him to disrobe and he does, changing into the provided hospital gown and climbing onto the cold exam table, paper covering crinkling as he lays back.

There are stirrups at the end of the exam table. Jimin chews nervously on his bottom lip. Seeing those doesn’t usually foretell a pleasant time.

He sighs, laying his head back. He closes his eyes, tapping his fingers on his stomach as he waits.

It’s a few minutes before the doctor comes in, smiling.

“Jimin, it’s nice to see you again. Are you excited?”

Jimin laughs quietly.

“Nervous,” he corrects, smiling a little.

“Whatever for?”

Jimin eyes the stirrups and the doctor laughs, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about those, just helps make things easier for us to get this handled quickly and efficiently.”

Jimin nods, but the nerves remain, jumping in his belly.

“We’re just waiting on the sample,” the doctor smiles, nodding toward the door.

Jimin’s breath catches, swallowing hard. Suddenly he’s thinking of Yoongi squirreled away in a bathroom somewhere nearby with his hand on his shaft, jacking off into a vial.

Jimin closes his eyes, cheeks warm.

Don’t get wet.

He thinks, desperately, of baseball facts his stepfather tried to teach him when he was young and wonders what Yoongi’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about—

Jimin shakes his head hard.

“Jimin? Are you okay?” the doctor asks, concerned.

“Yes!” Jimin squeaks, embarrassed. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Are you sure?” her brow is furrowed, standing to look down at Jimin in concern.

Jimin closes his eyes in mortification and nods.

The doctor hmms but lets him be, sitting back down in her chair.

A moment later a nurse comes in with the sample and Jimin’s cheeks flush again. He stares up at the ceiling.

“Alright Jimin, are you ready?” the doctor asks with a smile.

Jimin swallows hard and nods. He puts his feet in the stirrups as directed, holding his legs open wide.

The doctor inserts a small syringe into his vagina and Jimin feels it against his cervix. She presses down on the plunger and Jimin feels the rapidly cooling semen deep inside him. She removes the syringe and snaps off her gloves, tossing them into the small trash can beside the door.

“And you’re all done!” she chirps.

Jimin moves to take his legs from the stirrups but she stops him.

“Woah, just a second. We’re gonna keep you on your back like this for about fifteen minutes just to make sure the semen gets a chance to move from the cervix and into the uterus.”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks, placing his foot back in its place. “Okay.”

He lays back, fingers laced over his stomach, and waits.

The sixth time his period comes right on schedule, Jimin cries.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffles, sitting on the toilet at work, phone cradled to his ear. His uniform pants are around his ankles, underwear stopped at his knees. There’s a tampon fisted in his hand. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yoongi assures him like every other time. “Aren’t you working?”

Jimin looks around the grubby bathroom stall and nods without thinking.

“Yeah,” he says after a moment of silence.

“Do you want me to come get you?”

Jimin’s face crumples.

“My shift just started,” he whispers, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

“Jimin—”

“I’ll be fine. I just wanted to let you know,” Jimin says quickly.

A sniffle betrays him.

The bathroom door creaks open and there’s a loud sigh. The person bangs on the bathroom stall door.

“Hurry up, Jimin,” his coworker, Hyungsik, says, annoyed already.

“I am working on it,” Jimin hisses.

“Work faster.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I have to go,” he whispers into the phone.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, clipped.

Jimin frowns, ready to cry again. He hangs up and does his business, shoving past Hyungsik as he leaves the stall. He groans when he sees his reflection, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. He pokes lightly at his under eye with a sigh.

“What? You get your period again?” Hyungsik sneers, rolling his eyes.

Jimin glares at him through the mirror, not dignifying his taunts with a response.

Hyungsik sidles closer.

“You know,” he says, putting a hand on Jimin’s hip. “Maybe I could help you with that. Your alpha friend wouldn’t have to know.”

Jimin’s whole face wrinkles in disgust, flicking Hyungsik’s hand away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me, asshole.”

“Oh, does your alpha know you talk like that?”

Jimin grinds his teeth, washing his hands quickly before turning from the mirror. He pushes past Hyungsik and out onto the restaurant floor.

The lunch rush is just beginning to ramp up and Jimin could cry, stress already flooding his veins. He grabs an apron from the back and ties it around his waist. He tucks a pad of tickets and a couple pens into the little front pockets. He plasters a smile on his face and walks out to his section.

“Hi!” He chirps, smile warm and wide. “My name is Jimin and I’ll be your server this afternoon.”

Ten hours later he finally clocks out, dead on his feet, but with a wallet full of tips.

Pulling lunch and dinner service may be grueling, but it’s lucrative.

Jimin walks out the front door with a bunch of other waiters, kitchen staff, and management pulling up the rear.

Hyungsik lets out a low whistle.

“Damn,” he says appreciatively, “Now that’s a car.”

Everyone looks up curiously, following his gaze to the other side of the parking lot.

As Jimin’s gaze falls on the all black Rolls Royce a familiar figure climbs out of the driver’s side door.

“Park Jimin!” Yoongi calls, waving a hand. “Hurry up.”

“Holy shit—”

“Wait, that’s the alpha?”

“Is it?”

“Jimin—”

“I’ve gotta go,” Jimin says, standing still. He blinks and Yoongi’s still there, hands in his pockets as he moves to lean against the now closed driver’s side door.

“Well fucking go, dude,” someone says, Jimin isn’t sure who.

“Get that bag, baby!”

Jimin shakes his head, ignoring them. He begins to walk, slowly parting from the pack of restaurant workers and growing closer to Yoongi and his Rolls Royce.

“You can drive?!” is the first thing Jimin blurts when he’s close enough. Immediately overcome with embarrassment, he shakes his head at himself. “Of course you can drive. Why did you walk with me before?”

Yoongi shrugs.

“Walking is nice sometimes.”

“You’ve got everyone in a tizzy,” Jimin says.

Yoongi arches a brow.

“The car,” Jimin gestures with a limp hand.

Yoongi’s eyebrows go up then down, settling somewhere neutral.

“Oh, sorry.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I just— how did you know when my shift ended?”

Yoongi shifts on his feet.

“You were complaining yesterday about having to work lunch and dinner.”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “You didn’t have to come.”

Yoongi shrugs.

“I thought you might like a ride and some company.”

“I’m okay,” Jimin says quietly.

“You’re sure.”

Jimin nods. “I just. I had had a good feeling about this time so when I— and I didn’t sleep well last night so—”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to justify your emotions to me, Jimin. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Yoongi licks his lips. He gestures to the car.

“Would you like a ride home?”

“Yes, please.”

When they get to Jimin’s apartment, Yoongi walks him to the door.

Jimin doesn’t invite him in.

“Thank you,” he says instead.

Yoongi smiles, nodding his head.

“No problem,” he says. “You can call or text me for a ride anytime—I may not always be able to come, but you can ask and I’ll do my best.”

Jimin nods.

They linger.

“Okay, well,” Yoongi licks his lips, “I’ll let you go in then.”

Jimin nods again.

“Good night,” he says.

“Good night,” Yoongi echoes.

Jimin is tipsy.

He’s not drunk or incapacitated, he’s tipsy.

Tipsy and ovulating and he has an idea.

“I’m gonna go home,” he tells Taehyung.

“I’ll come too then,” Taehyung says, immediately moving to slide off his stool at the bar.

“No no, it’s okay. I’ll call a taxi. Stay. I know you wanted to be here for trivia.”

“Are you sure?” Taehyung asks, frowning. “It’s not a big deal if you’re not feeling good. We can go.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m just tired.”

Taehyung frowns.

“Okay.”

He really wants to win trivia this week.

“Okay,” Jimin smiles, pulling Taehyung into a quick hug. “I’ll see you at home, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimin smiles wider, grabbing his coat from the back of his stool and sliding it on over his shoulders.

Taehyung still looks worried, but someone calls his name and he’s distracted so Jimin takes the opportunity to slip out the front door. He unlocks his phone and goes to his recent messages. He doesn’t have to scroll far to find Yoongi’s name. He debates whether to text or call for a moment, but he’s learned texting Yoongi is far less reliable than a phone call—he tends to get caught up in his work, leaving his phone to vibrate with texts helplessly for hours before it’s noticed by its owner.

He calls.

Yoongi picks up on the fifth ring, a quiet “Jimin?” into the receiver.

“Yoongi,” Jimin smiles at the sound of his voice. “Can you come pick me up?”

There’s a pause. It gets quieter on Yoongi’s end, some ambient noise disappearing.

“Yeah, where are you?”

“I’m outside Dixon’s.”

“The bar?”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi huffs.

“Wait inside—I’ll be there in twenty.”

Jimin hums softly.

“Thank you,” he says.

He does not wait inside. He’s committed to the illusion of getting a taxi and he’s sticking with it, determined not to let on to Taehyung what he’s actually doing.

He waits impatiently, rocking side to side and blowing into his palms, trying his best to keep warm.

His phone vibrates.

<small>Almost there.</small>

Jimin smiles.

The car pulls up and there are murmurs from people around. The window rolls down and Yoongi means across the center console to bade Jimin enter.

“C’mon, it’s fucking freezing,” he says.

Jimin smiles. He climbs into the car and immediately puts his seatbelt on, luxuriating in the warmth.

“Thank you,” he says.

Yoongi nods, checking his mirrors before pulling out into traffic.

“Am I taking you home?” he asks.

Jimin chews on his bottom lip.

“Depends on whose home you mean.”

Yoongi looks over at Jimin briefly, confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“I think we should have sex.”

Yoongi chokes.

“What?”

Jimin sighs, turning his head to look at the side of Yoongi’s face.

“I want to try the natural way.”

“The natural way,” Yoongi mutters. “Are you drunk? We have an insemination appointment in two days.”

“No, I'm not drunk,” Jimin frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m tipsy. And ovulating. And I think you should knot me.”

Yoongi closes his eyes briefly, shifting in his seat.

“You can’t just say shit like that, Jimin.”

“Yoongi,” Jimin pleads. “I just want to give you a baby—it’s been almost seven months, I think it’s time to switch it up.”

“If this is about money—”

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath.

“I’m already being compensated for my time. You know this isn’t about money, Yoongi,” Jimin’s eyes begin to water. His voice cracks. “I’m sick and tired of failing you.”

“You’re not failing me,” Yoongi says quietly, firmly as he shifts gears. “These things take time.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi says. “It happens when it’s time.”

“You’re the one that wanted to try the natural way in the first place,” Jimin reminds him. “Why are you so against it now?”

“I’m not against it,” Yoongi grits. “I just don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable,” Jimin says, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Yoongi asks.

“Since tonight,” Jimin admits after a long moment.

Yoongi sighs, pulling into Jimin’s apartment complex. He parks in front of Jimin’s building and crosses his arms against the steering wheel, looking over at Jimin.

“If you want to do it the “natural way” then we’ll have to wait for my rut.”

The word makes Jimin’s toes curl in his boots. He struggles to keep his scent from flaring, cheeks flushing hot. He swallows hard.

“Your rut,” he repeats. Yoongi nods, eyes sliding away from Jimin’s direct gaze. “When is it?”

Yoongi makes a thoughtful noise.

“Four weeks?” he says, shrugging. “Give or take.”

“Oh,” Jimin licks his lips. “I’ve never spent an alphas rut with them before.”

“No?”

“No.”

Yoongi nods, resting his forehead on his crossed arms. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“If—in four weeks—you still want to do this the natural way, we’ll get things set up, okay?”

Jimin nods rapidly, leaning forward in his seat.

“For now though,” Yoongi sighs. “Go home, Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jimin says quietly.

He slips out of the car and makes his way toward his apartment.

Four weeks is not very long, Jimin realizes.

The days tick by rapidly and when he thinks about it his heartbeat kicks up, scent gone sweet and warm. He thinks about it a lot, reading forum posts about being an alpha’s rut partner, but too shy to ask questions himself. He’ll save them for Yoongi, he guesses.

Jimin checks himself out in the mirror, long taupe coat turning him into a flat line from the back, but he looks good from the front, put together. Like the kind of person who makes big decisions.

There are three days until Yoongi’s rut is predicted to start.

Jimin takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.

Yoongi’s coming to pick him up so they can have dinner and talk—they’ve talked only a little in the past four weeks, texting sporadically and never about Yoongi’s looming rut. It makes Jimin feel impatient, small. It’s not like they talked constantly before, but he’s afraid now that Yoongi is mad at him, unable to shake the feeling that he’s upset the alpha somehow in the process of kickstarting this.

Jimin sighs. He looks himself up and down again.

“You ready for your date?” Taehyung asks sardonically, leaned up against the jamb of Jimin’s open bedroom door.

Jimin startles, turning to face him with a hand over his heart.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he scolds, frowning. He rolls his eyes. “It’s not a date.”

“You look like it’s a date.”

“Well, it’s not. It's just… dinner.”

“Where are you guys going?”

Jimin sends Taehyung a sideways look.

“Yoongi’s place,” he admits begrudgingly. “He’s cooking.”

“But it’s not a date,” Taehyung says flatly.

“No.”

“Why all the fanfare, then? Like, why are you doing dinner at all?”

“We have… things to talk about.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow.

“What kinds of things?”

Jimin dithers where he stands. He sighs and rolls his eyes.

“We’re going to spend Yoongi’s rut together,” he says, throwing the words out into the room.

Silence.

“Jimin…”

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung sighs.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt at the end of this.”

“I’m not going to!” Jimin protests. “Tae, it’s a perfectly normal part of surrogacy.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“I don’t like him like that!” Jimin insists. He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s purely professional.”

“Jimin. Babe. I’ve seen the way you kick your feet when he texts you.”

Jimin sputters, flushes.

“I don’t do that!”

He does.

Jimin turns away from Taehyung, gathering his phone and keys from his nightstand. He shoves them into a little black backpack along with his chapstick and charger.

“Jimin,” Taehyung calls quietly.

Jimin sighs. He turns.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m worried you’re too invested; you cried over a diaper commercial yesterday.”

Jimin purses his lips.

He did.

“I just didn’t think it would be this difficult to get pregnant,” he says.

“It’s only been like six months—”

“Seven.”

“—sometimes it takes years.”

“I don’t want it to take years,” Jimin mutters, slinging the backpack over his shoulders. “Yoongi’s already waited long enough.”

Taehyung sighs.

“Just— please be careful.”

“You be careful.”

“Jimin.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. There’s a spider crawling toward your hand.”

Taehyung jumps, letting out a little scream.

There is, indeed, a small spider making its way down the door jamb toward Taehyung. He smushes it with his thumb, other hand over his heart.

“You could’ve told me sooner,” he gripes, wiping his thumb off on his pants.

“I only just noticed,” Jimin frowns, pouting his lips. His phone vibrates and he checks it quickly. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” Taehyung’s frowning.

Jimin sighs. He smiles reassuringly.

“Everything is going to be fine.”

Jimin sits at the breakfast bar in Yoongi’s house, watching him move around the sleek kitchen with practiced ease.

The house is exactly what Jimin expected and also nothing like he imagined. Full of dark woods and modern furniture, the living room is warm, cozy. There’s a big TV mounted on the wall and a large, dark grey sectional across from it. There’s a big wooden coffee table with books and magazines and lit candles, mellow enough that Yoongi’s deep bergamot scent shines through.

“I like your house,” Jimin says, looking around, taking in the built-in bookcases on either side of the television. He looks out the large windows that overlook a back patio, privacy fence a stone's throw away from the sliding glass doors. “I didn’t expect you to live in an actual house.”

Yoongi laughs quietly, almost drowned out by the sizzling of onions and garlic on the stove.

“What did you expect?” he asks.

Jimin shrugs.

“A bachelor pad.”

“A bachelor pad,” Yoongi repeats, amused.

Jimin watches his shoulders move when he chuckles, back muscles tensing under a thin black t-shirt as he lifts a bottle of red wine to deglaze the pan.

It reminds Jimin of his wine and reaches for the glass to take a sip, crisp and sweet.

“This is good wine.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Yoongi shoots Jimin a smile over his shoulder before turning his attention back to his risotto-in-progress.

“The food smells good too,” Jimin tells him.

Yoongi laughs again.

“The food has barely started.”

Jimin shrugs.

“Onions and garlic and wine are always a good start.”

“True,” Yoongi pours a cup of Arborio rice into the pot.

“I guess I’ll be talking to your back for a while.” Jimin says, resting a cheek in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi says, shrugging. He adds a cup of broth to the rice mixture and stirs. “Gotta babysit this a bit.”

“I know,” Jimin says, amused. “I’ve seen the chefs at work making it.”

“Ah, I see.”

There’s a companionable silence while Yoongi stirs.

“Do you like to cook?” Yoongi asks.

“Mm, yeah, but I don’t get the opportunity much.”

“Ah, well, do you wanna help me out here then?”

Jimin perks up.

“I can,” he says.

“There’s some asparagus and brussel sprouts in the fridge. Could you prep them for me?”

“Yep!” Jimin chirps, standing from his stool. He rounds the island and opens the fridge. It’s pretty empty save for some drinks and skincare.

“You don’t cook much either, huh?” he asks, amused.

Yoongi meets his amused look with a shrug.

“Not as much as I’d like,” he says. “I work a lot.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Yoongi sighs.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta learn to pull back.”

“Mm, especially if you plan on taking care of a newborn soon,” Jimin says, grabbing a mesh bag of brussel sprouts and a bundle of asparagus from the crisper.

“True,” Yoongi agrees. He sighs. “It’s difficult.”

“Don’t you have like. Underlings?” Jimin asks, setting the veggies in the sink. “People you can delegate too? Where’s the cutting board? A colander?”

“Uh,” there’s a pause in Yoongi’s stirring. “They’re in the small lower cabinet beside the sink.”

“And your delegates?” Jimin prompts.

“Don’t exist,” Yoongi says, clipped.

Jimin’s eyebrows go high. He reaches for a cutting board and colander.

“What do you even do?” he finally asks.

There’s a long stretch of silence.

Jimin places the colander in the sink and the cutting board on the counter and turns to Yoongi with a furrow in his brow, confused.

“Is that a no-no question?” he asked, one eyebrow arched. “Are you a secret government agent and you’ll have to kill me if you tell me?”

Yoongi huffs, shaking his head. He laughs a little.

“No, sorry, I just—” he stops, licking his lips. There’s another moment of silence. “I make music.”

Jimin straightens, curious.

“You make music?” he looks around at the house again. “You must be pretty successful.”

Yoongi laughs, a choked sound.

“You could say that.”

Jimin’s eyebrow stays piqued, a hand on his hip.

“Would I know anything?”

Yoongi rolls his shoulders, staring determinedly down into the pot of risotto.

“We Don’t Talk Together,” he says.

“You worked on that?!” Jimin asks, stepping closer. He cranes his head to see Yoongi’s face, eager. “What part? What did you do?”

A smile cracks Yoongi’s face. He shakes his head, eyes darting briefly to Jimin’s before gluing themselves back to the rice he’s stirring.

“Uh— I produced it.”

Jimin goes still.

“You—” he stops. He shakes his head. He hisses. “You produced it?!”

Yoongi’s smile blossoms. He laughs, nodding his head.

“Yeah.”

“You’re SUGA?!”

Jimin feels lightheaded.

Yoongi nods once, firm.

“Oh my god,” Jimin says, a little breathless. “How am I supposed to halve brussel sprouts under these conditions?”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back. He continues stirring, adding another cup of broth to his risotto as soon as he’s calmed, chuckles still rumbling through his chest.

His scent has bloomed in the kitchen, happy and warm.

“I think you’ll manage,” he says.

Jimin laughs, a little incredulous.

“Okay,” he shakes his head. He turns to his cutting board and reaches across the counter to grab a chef’s knife from the knife block by the sink. “Okay.”

He rinses the veggies and pats them dry before chopping, shaking his head occasionally when he remembers he’s standing next to SUGA, of all people.

“I’m having a baby for SUGA,” he mumbles under his breath, halving a brussel sprout and tossing it into the colander.

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” Jimin shakes his head.

Yoongi doesn’t press.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says after a long moment.

“Oh.” Jimin straightens, resting the knife against the cutting board. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Yoongi darts a look his way, pausing his stirring.

“I’m trusting you,” he says.

“Of course! Of course,” Jimin nods. “I completely understand.”

“Okay,” Yoongi nods. He adds more broth to the pot and begins stirring again. “That’s good.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. He starts chopping again.

“How much longer until we eat?” he asks.

Yoongi hums softly.

“Maybe twenty,” he says. He nods toward the stove. “Can you turn the oven on? 400.”

Jimin nods, setting the knife down and reaching to turn the knob.

“How do you want this stuff prepped?” he asks.

“Mm, a little salt, a little pepper, some oil,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Boring,” Jimin frowns.

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“It’s delicious.”

“Not even a little parm?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi huffs, smiling a little to himself.

“Fine. I might have some in the pantry.”

“The pantry?” Jimin asks. “You buy cheap sprinkle cheese?”

Yoongi nods. “Yes, I do.”

Jimin hums. He turns toward the pantry, pulling the double doors at the far end of the kitchen open.

It's a walk-in.

“Of course it is,” Jimin mutters to himself, shaking his head.

The next twenty minutes pass quickly, easily, small-talk filling up the space between them.

Yoongi finishes his risotto and moves into steak while the veggies roast, dinner coming together quickly in the end.

“This smells amazing,” Jimin says, scooting his chair in at the small four-person kitchen table.

Yoongi smiles.

“Thanks for your help,” he says.

Jimin shakes his head.

“I barely did anything.”

“You did plenty,” Yoongi says. “The parmesan was a good call.”

“Thank you,” Jimin pretends to curtsey in his seat.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Well, cut into it,” he says, gesturing with his knife. “How’d I do?”

Jimin rolls his eyes but obeys, cutting his steak in half and humming in appreciation.

“Medium-rare,” he says.

Yoongi does a dorky little first-pump and Jimin snorts.

“You’re such an alpha.”

“I mean… that’s just true,” Yoongi says, shrugging.

Jimin sighs.

“You’re annoying,” he says.

“But your steak is perfect,” Yoongi says.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“And you’re annoying.”

“I can live with that.”

Jimin huffs, cutting a piece of steak and biting it off the fork with unnecessary aggression. He chews and swallows, washing it down with a sip of wine.

“So when are we gonna talk about your rut?” he asks.

Yoongi chokes. He wipes his mouth.

“Now, I guess?”

“Okay,” Jimin sets his silverware down. “What’s it like?”

“Uh,” Yoongi sets his own fork and knife down. “Horny?”

Jimin flushes.

“Obviously,” he huffs. “But, like, I don’t know. I’ve been reading forums—”

“Forums.”

“—and i'm not really nervous anymore—”

“That’s good.”

“—but I still don’t have any experience and I’m curious what it’s like for you, specifically.”

Yoongi shrugs. He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, I usually go through my ruts alone,” he says and Jimin is embarrassed how relieved he is, knows Yoongi can tell by the shift in his scent and the way his eyes slide away. “And they’re pretty quick—six days at most, usually less with suppressants.”

“Six is quick?” Jimin squeaks.

Yoongi shrugs.

“It was sometimes two—three weeks when I was younger.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide.

“That sounds miserable.”

Yoongi laughs, nodding.

“It was.”

“What about now?”

“It’s better now,” Yoongi says. He grimaces. “Less desperate. Being thirty-two and not a teenager has its perks—there’s breaks. I shower. I cook. I even change the sheets,” he laughs a little. “It’s a lot calmer an experience than it used to be, though I don’t know how spending it with an omega will affect that routine.”

“Do you think it will?”

“Of course,” Yoongi nods firmly. “Adding your scent, your pheromones—you—to the equation? It’s very different from locking myself in the house and masturbating for a week.”

Jimin swallows hard, shifting in his seat.

Don’t get wet.

“But you’re willing to try it?” Jimin clears his throat and asks.

Yoongi nods, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Yeah. If you’re comfortable with it, I’m down.”

“You’re down,” Jimin echoes. He laughs. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool.”

Jimin blushes his way through calling out of work.

It’s somehow worse telling his boss that he needs time off for his partner’s rut than it was the time he caught Jimin doing a pregnancy test in the bathroom during his break.

“Might as well be saying ‘sorry I can’t work next week, I’ll be busy getting railed,’” he mutters.

Somewhere behind him, Taehyung chokes.

“Dude.”

Jimin whips around, cheeks hot.

“It’s true!” he insists. He groans. “And my whole job is gonna know in like two minutes, because my boss is a gossip.”

Taehyung frowns.

“Isn’t that like. Classified information?” he asks.

“Classified?” Jimin repeats, eyebrow arched. “It’s not the CIA, Tae. It’s a mediocre Italian restaurant.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jimin shrugs.

“It’s not like HIPAA or anything. I don’t think they can get in trouble.”

“They should,” Taehyung frowns. “Or, at least, your boss should keep his mouth shut.”

Jimin shrugs.

“It’s not a big deal, I guess. Not really. Everyone knew I was getting inseminated and shit. What’s a rut?”

“Hm.”

Jimin sighs.

“I gotta finish packing,” he checks the time on his phone. “Yoongi should be here in twenty.”

“Should I go?” Taehyung asks.

“Go?”

“If he’s close to his rut I don’t wanna risk a confrontation.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Yoongi’s not like that.”

Taehyung snorts.

“An alpha’s an alpha,” he says. “And I’m an alpha and I don’t wanna risk things getting aggressive ‘cause I stood too close to you or something.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t think you need to,” he says. “Yoongi will probably stay in the car.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Jimin nods. “Hell, I’ll text him and tell him not to come up.”

“Okay,” Taehyung nods, hands in his pockets. “That works.”

He lingers in Jimin’s room.

“What is it?” Jimin asks, shoving folded shirts into a duffel bag.

Taehyung sighs.

“You know my thoughts,” he says.

“I do,” Jimin agrees.

Taehyung sighs again.

“I just worry.”

“I know you do,” Jimin smiles a little, shaking his head. “But everything is fine.”

“Everything is fine,” Taehyung echoes. “Okay.”

It’s not sarcastic.

“Okay?” Jimin looks away from his packing to eye Taehyung. “No more protests?”

Taehyung shrugs.

“You’re a grown up.”

“I am,” Jimin agrees, amused.

Taehyung shrugs again.

“That’s all.”

Jimin laughs.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Taehyung nods his head.

“I’m gonna go play video games now,” he says. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“See you in a week,” Jimin smiles. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Taehyung says. He smiles, giving a little wave before walking down the hall to his room.

Jimin shakes his head, smiling.

He goes back to packing.

Yoongi’s drumming his fingers on the steering wheel when Jimin climbs into the car, but he goes tense as soon as Jimin’s scent hits him, nostrils flaring. His grip on the steering wheel goes tight, knuckles white.

Fuck.

“Yoongi?”

Yoongi shakes himself, blinking.

“Sorry,” he says, sheepish. He looks over at Jimin. “I can smell Taehyung on you.”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “Sorry, I should’ve showered.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says. “You’ll smell like me soon enough.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, cheeks blushing a pretty pink.

Yoongi swallows hard, turning away from him.

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Sorry,” he says.

Jimin shakes his head.

“It’s okay. It’s true.”

Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but it’s counterproductive. Jimin smells warm and sweet and strong. Yoongi can practically taste orange blossom on his tongue.

He’s hard in his jeans.

He smacks a hand against the steering wheel once, hard.

“Okay,” he says. “We should go.”

Jimin nods, reaching for his seatbelt.

Yoongi starts the car and pulls out of the spot. He tries taking deep breaths as he drives, but Jimin’s scent has grown musky, wet. He’s probably reacting to Yoongi’s own strong pre-rut scent.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks him, darting a glance Jimin’s way.

Jimin nods, legs crossed in his seat.

“I’m good!” he squeaks, cheeks red.

“Hey,” Yoongi calls softly, looking at Jimin while they wait at a red light. He rests his hand on Jimin’s thigh. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s natural.”

Jimin whines, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Don’t talk about it,” he says, covering his face with his hands. “At least wait until we’re in the bedroom.”

Yoongi laughs quietly, giving Jimin’s thigh a light squeeze. He moves his hand back to the stick shift and puts the car in drive, pressing the gas pedal as the light turns green.

They’re quiet for the rest of the drive, navigating the quiet streets with the radio playing quietly. They pull into Yoongi’s driveway and make their way, one by one, into Yoongi’s home.

They stand in the foyer, looking at each other.

“Well.”

Yoongi licks his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Jimin lets his duffel bag fall to the floor by his feet.

“Yes.”

Yoongi frames Jimin’s face between both hands and pulls him in, pressing their lips together firmly.

Jimin kisses him back, wrapping his small hands around Yoongi’s wrists.

Yoongi walks them backward until Jimin’s back hits the door, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. He sucks Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth and lets it go with a pop, slipping his tongue into Jimin’s mouth.

Jimin moans softly, meeting Yoongi’s tongue with his own, stroking against each other, hot and wet. Yoongi’s cock twitches and he breathes out sharply through his nose, stepping closer. He turns Jimin’s head to the side, then slides his hands down to Jimin’s neck, thumbs on Jimin’s jaw. Jimin’s hands move to Yoongi’s shoulders, sliding around to warp around his neck.

Yoongi sucks Jimin’s tongue into his mouth and grinds their hips together, groaning at the friction on his hard cock. He pulls back to suck in a deep breath before diving back in, barely giving Jimin time to catch his own before their lips meet again, hips flush together.

Yoongi can smell Jimin’s wet cunt, the scent growing stronger the longer they kiss.

He groans into Jimin’s mouth, reaching down to cup the front of Jimin’s pants, fingers curling between his thighs to the damp denim between Jimin’s legs.

Jimin gasps, pulling out of the kiss, head thrown back against the door. His arms tighten around Yoongi’s neck.

“Yoongi,” Jimin parts his feet, taking a step wider.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, rubbing Jimin through his jeans. He latches his mouth onto the length of Jimin’s neck, sucking a hickey into the soft skin. He bites down and Jimin gasps, going tense.

It leaves a perfect impression of Yoongi’s teeth behind.

Yoongi rumbles low in his chest, laving over the bite with his tongue. He slips his second hand into the back of Jimin’s pants, bypassing his underwear to cup his bare asscheek and knead.

Jimin mewls, eyes closed, breathing fast.

Yoongi pulls his fingers from Jimin’s pussy and brings them up to his nose, taking a deep breath. He licks them, sticks them into his mouth and sucks until the taste of orange blossom disappears from his mouth.

“Fuck.” he growls, squeezing Jimin’s ass. He puts his forehead to Jimin’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

He rolls his hips into Jimin, using his grip on Jimin’s ass to rub them together.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks, eyes closed, breathing ragged.

“Please.”

Yoongi pulls his hand out of Jimin’s pants and turns him around by his hips, pushing him up against the door. He grinds his hard cock against the cleft of Jimins ass, panting against the back of Jimin’s neck.

“You smell so fucking good,” he groans, taking a step back to undo the button on his jeans. “You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

Jimin whimpers. He takes a step away from the door and arches his back, presenting himself.

Yoongi rumbles and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out of his jeans. He can see the wide circle of damp at the apex of Jimin’s pants. He reaches out a hand and presses his thumb to the center of it, closing his eyes at the heat emanating from Jimin’s soaking wet pussy.

Jimin wiggles his hips and Yoongi sucks in a deep breath. He steps up flush to Jimin’s ass and wraps his arms around, reaching for the fly of Jimin’s jeans. He undoes the button and lowers the zipper, tugging the pants down, down, down to Jimin’s knees. He doesn’t bother pushing down Jimin’s underwear, tucking two fingers under the flimsy crotch of them, knuckles immediately wet. He pulls them to the side and uses his other hand to guide the head of his cock to Jimin’s hot, wet cunt, sliding inside easily, without hesitation.

Jimin whimpers and moans, fingers curling under and scratching the dark wood of the door.

Yoongi pauses, throwing his head back with a moan, eyes closed. He pulls out slowly and slams back in, hitting Jimin’s cervix with a bruising force. He has his hands on Jimin’s hips, eyes glued to the place where his cock disappears inside Jimin’s cunt, fucking him hard and fast in the entryway.

He comes without knotting, leaving Jimin dripping semen down his inner thigh, head hanging between his shoulders as he pants with his hands still braced against the front door.

“Oh my god,” Jimin gasps, breathless. “Oh my god.”

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, hand on Jimin’s back. His soft cock is hanging out of his pants.

Jimin nods, waving Yoongi off.

“I’m good,” he pants, putting his hand back on the door. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck. He tucks himself back into his pants.

“It’s okay,” Jimin says, straightening. He shimmies his pants down his legs and kicks them off, leaving him standing in his underwear. He turns to face Yoongi, cheeks a mottled red. “But I get to come too next time.”

It’s been four days and his labia chafe when he walks. Tender and sore, Jimin makes Yoongi bring him breakfast in bed each morning.

Yoongi does so without complaint, fucking Jimin awake before rolling out of bed to cook them something.

Sometimes Jimin wakes up in the night and Yoongi’s inside him, hips rocking gently into Jimin where they’re spooned together.

“How often do you fuck me while I’m sleeping?” he asks, curious, a spoonful of yogurt halfway to his mouth.

Yoongi shrugs.

“Three or four times.”

“Every night?!” Jimin asks, incredulous. He nearly drops his spoon.

Yoongi shrugs again, mouth full of ripe berries.

“Damn,” Jimin looks down into his parfait. He blinks. “That’s impressive.”

Yoongi snorts.

“That’s rut.”

Jimin hums.

“I knew it was a lot, but I still underestimated things I guess.”

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asks, sitting cross-legged and nude in the bed, sheet covering his lower half.

“Sore,” Jimin answers honestly. Yoongi frowns. “But good!” Jimin ducks his head. “I’m good.”

“That’s good,” Yoongi murmurs. “Two days left.”

“Two days,” Jimin repeats. He shakes his head. “You’re gonna have to carry me home.”

“Can do,” Yoongi says.

Jimin laughs. He takes another bite of parfait. He wonders how many bite-shaped bruises are on his neck. He’s lost count of how many times Yoongi’s bitten him and he hasn’t seen himself in the mirror in a while.

“How bruised am I?” he asks.

Yoongi grimaces, guilty.

“You’re pretty purple,” he says.

Jimin looks down at himself. He nods.

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve extrapolated.”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi shifts. “Your neck is, uh, particularly mottled.”

Jimin sets his parfait aside on the nightstand to his right, standing from the bed without caring that he’s naked. He makes his way to the en-suite bathroom and flicks the light on, really taking in his reflection for the first time in a few days.

“Oh wow,” he breathes, turning his head to one side then the other, craning his neck. “Oh damn.”

He reaches up and presses two fingers to the tender skin, wincing lightly. It doesn’t feel so good when his body isn’t flushed with lust. He leans over the bathroom counter to get a closer look and identifies multiple sets of very clear bite marks on his neck and shoulders.

“Wow,” he blinks, swallowing hard. He licks his lips, wondering what those teeth marks would look like scarred into his skin.

He shakes the thought away as quickly as it comes, cheeks flushing.

“You alright?” Yoongi calls from the bed.

“I’m good!” Jimin yells back, swallowing hard. He looks himself in the eye in the mirror and says again, more quietly, “I’m good.”

He bounds back into the bedroom, bouncing onto the bed with a smile. Yoongi smiles back, his own parfait now set aside.

“Are you done?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward Jimin’s dish.

Jimin nods his head.

“Yeah,” he sighs, laying down on his side.

“Do you want to cuddle before round two?” Yoongi asks.

“Hmm,” Jimin pretends to think. “Yes.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but shifts to lay down, scooting toward Jimin. He reaches out and puts a hand on Jimin’s waist, pulling him in. Jimin smiles, hiding his face in Yoongi’s neck. He likes how Yoongi feels holding him, their mingled scents filling the room.

I love you.

Jimin’s eyes go wide, grateful Yoongi can’t see his face. He burrows closer like the warmth of Yoongi’s skin can banish the thought from his mind, swallowing hard with tears burning at the backs of his eyes.

Taehyung was right.

Day six starts at two in the morning, Yoongi kissing Jimin’s shoulder until he stirs before rolling him onto his back with a warm hand, slipping between Jimin’s legs familiar and easy.

Jimin moans, breathy and high, body rocking back with every thrust of Yoongi’s cock inside him. He’s littered with bruises, aching and weak. He rests his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, no longer having the strength to scratch and cling. He keeps his eyes closed, body lax. Yoongi’s pelvis rubs his raw clit and he whimpers, toes flexing lightly. He hadn’t been aware that this kind of pain could feel good before Yoongi wrung him out and kept going.

Jimin sighs softly, sliding his arms up to wrap them around Yoongi’s neck. He’s already come twice since Yoongi slipped inside, waiting patiently now for Yoongi to finish.

“I’m sleepy,” he mumbles. A yawn cracks his jaw, turning into a pained little moan halfway through; Yoongi’s teeth on his collarbone.

Yoongi noses at Jimin’s neck, scenting him and rumbling. His pace is steady, nearly mechanical. He doesn’t seem close or like he’s trying very hard to be at all.

“Yoongi…” Jimin whispers, fingers in Yoongi’s hair.

Yoongi shakes his head against Jimin’s skin, mouthing at his throat.

Jimin laughs quietly, body still rocking steadily.

He closes his eyes.

He opens them again and they’re knotted together, Yoongi’s hard cock pulsing inside him, filling him with seed. He sighs happily at the feeling, arms loose at his sides.

Yoongi is snoring lightly on top of him, breathing hot and damp against the underside of Jimin’s jaw. Jimin smiles a little, bringing a hand up to pet Yoongi’s hair.

“It’s over,” Yoongi mumbles, clinging.

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “Thank god.”

Yoongi laughs quietly, body shaking with it.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “The urgency is all gone.”

“Well, that’s good,” Jimin murmurs, fingers carding through Yoongi’s sweaty hair. “Maybe we’ve made something now.”

A gust of breath leaves Yoongi’s mouth, making Jimin shiver.

“Maybe,” he says. “Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Jimin agrees, looking up at the ceiling. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself if they haven’t.

“Time is it?” Yoongi mumbles.

Jimin turns his head to the side and reaches for his phone where it lays on the nightstand, squinting against the bright light.

“3:02,” Jimin sets his phone back and closes his eyes.

“Mm, I can’t decide if I want to shower or sleep first when this knot goes down,” Yoongi says.

Jimin nods without looking.

“Shower,” he mumbles.

Yoongi laughs.

“You saying I stink?”

Jimin shakes his head.

“No, I mean me shower. I dunno what you’re gonna do.”

Yoongi laughs again, leaning up to press a kiss to Jimin’s lips.

Jimin guesses it’s allowed because they’re still locked together. He kisses back.

Yoongi groans, rocking into Jimin. He shakes his head, pulling back with his lip between his teeth.

“Don’t get me started again,” he says.

Jimin laughs.

“You kissed me.”

Yoongi groans again.

“I know,” he rocks his hips, knot moving minutely inside Jimin. His eyes are closed, forearms braced on either side of Jimin’s rib cage. “Fuck.”

Jimin whimpers. “Yoongi.”

Yoongi shakes his head. He thrusts, fucking Jimin with his knot, face creased up in pleasure-pain.

Jimin gasps, legs spread, Yoongi’s knot tugging him from the inside out. Jimin whimpers, mewling.

“Yoongi,” he says again.

“Sorry,” Yoongi groans with a shake of his head. He fucks Jimin harder.

Jimin moans, throwing his head back against the pillows.

“It’s okay,” he breathes, eyes closed. He catches his lower lip between his teeth and holds it, whimpering quietly with every thrust. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jimin breathes the word, reaching up to wrap his arms around Yoongi’s neck. “What happens when you come while already knotted?”

Yoongi groans, grinding into Jimin.

“Knot lasts longer,” he gasps, pulling back until his knot stretches the entrance of Jimin’s cunt.

Jimin whines at the burn of it, gasping when Yoongi thrusts back in, cock slamming into Jimin’s bruised cervix. Jimin comes quickly, orgasm shaking through him and leaving him over sensitive and trembling.

Yoongi follows quickly behind, semen once again pulsing out of his cock, filling Jimin up with cum until there’s a little curve to his lower stomach and it leaks out around Yoongi’s knot.

Yoongi flops down on top of Jimin, panting and exhausted.

“Okay,” he says, eyes closed. “Now I’m finished.”

Jimin laughs, breathless.

Sitting in the dining chair is uncomfortable but Jimin doesn’t say anything, shifting minutely in his seat while Yoongi’s back is turned. It’s been a long, quiet morning. They’d taken turns showering around eleven and now Yoongi is making breakfast, three pans going at once as he stirs a berry compote and flips a crepe, eggs frying quietly on a back burner.

Jimin watches his bare back move, shoulder muscles shifting under Yoongi’s skin criss-crossed with scratches where Jimin’s fingernails bit into the skin leaving red welts behind.

“Smells so good,” Jimin says.

Yoongi smiles at him over his shoulder then turns back to the stove.

“Hopefully it’ll help you gain back some strength,” he says.

“Oh god,” Jimin groans. “I have to work tomorrow.”

Yoongi turns around with wide eyes blinking.

“What? Why?”

“I only asked for a week off,” Jimin whines.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“You’re gonna have to call them,” he says.

“I can’t just call them,” Jimin frowns.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi says. “If you explain the situation they’ll understand—you need at least three days post-rut to reach equilibrium, otherwise you are going to lose it when you leave this house.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means both hormonally and emotionally your body thinks we just mated. I bred you. And if you leave before you come down from it, your body will go into crisis mode thinking your alpha just rejected you and a rejected omega—“

“—has a high chance of rejecting any potential embryo too.” Jimin swallows hard, a sick feeling in his gut. “I know. I hadn’t thought about that.”

Yoongi frowns.

“Sorry, I just—”

“I know,” Jimin smiles reassuringly. “It’s okay; I’ll call.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you. I’m not really interested in going through rejection,” Jimin means that both ways, but he doesn’t expect Yoongi to know that. “I’ll call after we eat.”

Yoongi nods firmly and turns back to his cooking.

Jimin swallows a sigh.

“My god, you look like he tried to eat you,” are the first words Taehyung says when Jimin lets himself into their apartment three days later.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“It kinda feels like he did,” he says. The aching has faded some, but his body is still tender. “I knew ruts were intense, but that was really intense.”

“Well, you sound good,” Taehyung says, turning to follow Jimin’s movement through the apartment, bag in hand. “You know I thought you’d come home crying.”

Jimin goes still. He swallows hard and shakes his head.

“Don’t push it,” he says.

Taehyung frowns, straightening where he sits.

“Wait, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Jimin snaps, short. He licks his lips. “I just—” he shakes his head, sudden tears burning at his lashes. “Dammit.”

He wipes at his cheeks and Taehyung stands, rounding the couch as Jimin lets his bag drop to the floor.

“He’s so sweet,” Jimin cries, wiping at his eyes. “And attentive and warm and we were laying there cuddling between rounds and I just— he just— I love him.”

Taehyung makes a wounded noise, pulling Jimin in.

“I’m sorry,” he says, tucking Jimin under his chin. He does his best to drown Yoongi’s warm scent out with his own woody vetiver. “I’m sorry, Jimin.”

Jimin sniffs, nose pressed to Taehyung’s collarbone.

“Aren’t you gonna say I told you so?” he asks.

Taehyung shakes his head.

“No,” he sighs, squeezing Jimin tight. “I didn’t want to be right.”

Jimin sniffles, eyes squeezed shut tight. He clings to Taehyung’s front.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispers. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Taehyung rubs his back.

“You’re not stupid. You’re very brave and kind and you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Jimin cries harder and Taehyung holds him tight.

“Drink?” Taehyung offers from the kitchen.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I can’t,” he gripes, arms crossed over his chest. He’s sitting on the sofa. He sighs. “But you can bring me some water.”

Taehyung nods, reaching into a cupboard for a glass and dispensing some water from the filter in the fridge. He brings it to Jimin, beer in his other hand for himself.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks.

Jimin shrugs.

“I need to build some distance in, I guess. Stop being so—so accommodating. Vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable,” Taehyung echoes. There’s a moment of quiet. “I think the problem is that you work very well together.”

Jimin’s eyes crease, immediately blurring.

“Don’t say that.”

Taehyung sighs.

“Sorry. I’m just saying—”

“Well don’t.”

“—it sounded like you guys have a lot of chemistry.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“Yeah, from my point of view,” he sighs. “I’m an unreliable narrator at best.”

Taehyung frowns. He pets Jimin’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“It’s okay,” Jimin murmurs. “I just have to be more professional. Distant.” Jimin squeezes his eyes shut. He sighs. “I wish we’d met differently.”

“Me and you?”

Jimin swats Taehyung on the chest, rolling his eyes.

“Me and Yoongi, obviously.”

Taehyung smiles a little. “I know.”

Jimin huffs. He steps on Taehyung’s foot.

Taehyung doesn’t flinch.

“You’re so—”

“Annoying?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi has been locked in the studio for three days, burying himself in work. His phone is in his pocket at all times, sound turned up as high as it will go in case Jimin calls him.

Jimin has been strange the past three weeks, distant. He hasn’t texted Yoongi about his day or called him for a ride or to talk about the new annoying thing Taehyung has done or work or—

Jimin hasn’t been talking to him like he usually does, responding shortly to Yoongi’s check-in texts and keeping things purely professional otherwise.

Yoongi doesn’t know how to ask what he did to fuck things up.

He sits back in his computer chair with a sigh and digs his phone out of his back pocket, checking it for the millionth time.

He sighs. He sets it on his desk and turns his attention back to his computer, pulling his headphones on over his ears. Almost immediately, his phone begins to ring. He rips the headphones off and snatches his phone up off the desk without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Alpha Min,” there’s a smile in the person’s voice. “This is Hyuna from the clinic.”

“Oh, hello, how are you?”

“I’m doing well, Alpha Min, thank you. I’m actually calling with an update on your case.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not at all! We actually have happy news for you today.”

Yoongi blinks.

“Oh, well, what is it?”

Hyuna laughs.

“Your surrogate, Jimin. We spoke this afternoon and he’s let us know he took a positive pregnancy test this morning! He’ll be coming in later this week for us to confirm with bloodwork, but it sounds like you’re well on your way to holding your baby in your arms.”

The blood drains from Yoongi’s face. He fumbles his phone and has to shake himself. He clears his throat.

“Oh— uh, thank you. Wow. That’s—” there are tears in Yoongi’s eyes. “That’s amazing.”

They exchange pleasantries and goodbyes and Yoongi sets his phone down. He sits for a long moment, drumming his fingers against the desktop.

He stands.

He snatches his keys and wallet from the coffee table behind him in his office and heads out the door, taking the stairs two at a time down to the parking garage level. He leaves the music off as he drives, navigating familiar roads to Jimin’s apartment. He parks in his usual spot in the apartment complex and makes his way steadily up the stairs.

He knocks on Jimin’s door.

Jimin pulls it open with his face turned away, talking to someone inside.

Seeing him is a punch to the gut.

Jimin is rolling his eyes as he turns toward Yoongi, mouth fixed to say “Hello.” but he’s stymied by Yoongi’s presence, face gone white as a sheet.

“Yoongi,” he breathes, eyes darting back and forth over Yoongi’s face. “Hi.”

“The clinic called me,” Yoongi says and Jimin blushes, head down.

“Oh,” he curls his fingers together. “So, you heard.”

“I did.”

“Congratulations,” Jimin’s smile is forced, hands held out to his sides, palms forward, fingers splayed, celebrating.

“Jimin—”

“You didn’t have to come all this way though. It’s just a pregnancy test—too early to get excited, really.”

“Jimin—”

“We were actually just about to go out,” Jimin says, standing in pajamas, slippers on, face clean of makeup.

Yoongi closes his eyes.

“What did I do?” he asks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” Jimin blinks.

And blinks.

A tear runs down his cheek and Jimin sniffles, wiping it hastily away.

Yoongi frowns.

“Jimin, baby, talk to me.”

“Don’t call me that!” Jimin snaps, wiping at his cheeks. The tears are coming steadily now. “Fuck. You— you can’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His fingers itch to dry Jimin’s tears. “I—” he shakes his head. “I can’t say I didn’t mean it.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide. He looks up slowly.

“What?” his voice is quiet, small.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“I can’t say I didn’t mean it,” he repeats.

“Mean what?” Jimin asks. He slowly lowers his hands from his face, no longer crying, but his eyes are red-rimmed, face swollen.

Yoongi swallows hard.

“I— I care about you, Jimin.”

“You care about me?” Jimin asks. He shakes his head, looking away. “Of course you do, Yoongi. I’m giving you a baby.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Jimin,” he waits for Jimin to meet his gaze. He braces himself. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words ring in Jimin’s ears.

“No you don’t,” Jimin says, shaking his head. He takes a step back. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m having your baby.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head before looking Jimin straight in the eye. “I’m not.”

Jimin swallows hard.

“You’re just saying that,” he whispers.

“Jimin.”

“Yoongi, please,” Jimin pleads. “Just go home.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“No, not until you listen to me.”

“You haven’t said anything.”

“I said I love you,” Yoongi repeats, forceful. He takes a step closer. “And I meant it.”

Jimin shakes his head, eyes blurring with tears. He gasps a breath and sobs.

“This is weirdly threatening,” Taehyung says from behind him and Jimin’s never been so relieved to hear his voice.

“Please tell him to go home, Tae,” Jimin says, voice wobbling.

Taehyung frowns at Jimin then turns to frown at Yoongi. He scratches behind his ear.

“Come in,” he says.

Jimin turns to him wide-eyed, betrayed.

“Tae,” he hisses.

Taehyung looks vaguely guilty, but he stands firm.

“You guys need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

“I’ve said what I need to say,” Yoongi agrees.

Jimin turns back to him, hand fisted in front of his chest.

“You did?”

Yoongi nods, staring Jimin in the eyes.

“Now I just need to know what you say.”

Jimin swallows hard. He looks away.

“Jimin…” Yoongi murmurs. “If you don’t feel the same way just say so and I’ll go.”

Jimin licks his lips, eyelashes filling with tears.

“I—” he hiccups a sob, head down. He whispers. “I don’t love you.”

Taehyung snorts.

Jimin whips around to glare.

“Go away, traitor.”

Taehyung puts his hands up in surrender and walks back into the house.

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, holding himself tight.

“How do you know you love me and it’s not just baby fever?” he asks, head down.

“Jimin,” Yoongi starts softly. “How do I know? Because you haven’t been texting me at all these past weeks and I’ve been miserable with missing you. Because you're smart and funny and passionate and brave. Because the day we met I thought you were the sweetest, most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Because I knew I loved you before that phone call and it broke my heart to think of doing it all alone,” Yoongi takes a deep breath. He straightens. “I don’t want to raise this baby without you.”

“You mean it?” Jimin asks. He wipes tears from his cheeks. “You have to mean it, Yoongi.”

“I mean it,” Yoongi steps closer and Jimin lets himself be wrapped up in a hug. “I mean it. I love you.”

Jimin whimpers, clinging to Yoongi’s shirt.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

Yoongi holds him closer, squeezing him tight.

“Awesome,” Taehyung breaks in. “Now can you close the door? You’re letting the cold in.”

#my fic #ioht #yoonmin fic #yoonmin au #yoonmin fanfiction #ym au #ym fic #ym smut #yoonmin smut #trans park jimin #top myg #top yoongi #top min yoongi #top!yoongi

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xiaoderyy · 7 months ago

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WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS HAS ALREADY HAPPENED BEFORE?? 😆😭👀

(I Love yoonmin)😔

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daegudrama · 2 years ago

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hi friends 🫶🏻

i had a wonderful thought and nei challenged me so here we are. She said 300 but this is like 500…ANYWAYS enjoy

TITLE: Suchwita 7

Pairing: Min Yoongi/Park Jimin

Summary: After filming Suchwita Jimin really wants to suck Yoongi’s dick 💜

Word Count: 487 words

Jimin

We continue talking long after the cameras have shut off and the Suchwita staff have left us alone. Moments like this are hard to come by these days so I don’t want to waste a second.

There is an ache inside me I know only one thing can fill. It’s been quite awhile since we’ve been in a situation where this was possible. So, with alcohol flowing through my veins I feel no shame asking for what I want.

“Can I suck your dick?”

Yoongi chokes on the water he was sipping hastily, putting the glass down. I’m not sure why he’s so shocked. It’s not as if this hasn’t happened before. To be fair, usually we would ask for this in a more private setting.

“Here?” He whispers as if there’s anyone else in the room.

“So you don’t want me to suck your cock?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I get up from my seat with only the slightest wobble.

“I did not say that.” He scoots his chair away from the table but remains seated. “Come here.”

I follow his instructions, kneeling in front of his spread legs. My hands immediately reach for his pants, unbuttoning them with my agile fingers easily.

His thick cock is already straining against his Calvin Klein boxers. I feel a sense of pride knowing that my words and the thought of my mouth alone made him this hard.

I pull down his underwear and pants until they are no longer in my way. For a second I admire his thick length before taking the tip into my mouth without warning. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath threading his fingers through my hair.

My lips form a tight ring around his cock as I take more of him into my mouth. One of my hands reaches up to play with his balls. Yoongi is making small groans above me.

My nose touches the area directly above his cock as I deep throat him. I swallow around the tip of his dick causing him to buck his hips into my throat. I hum in approval, despite the slight pain, looking into his eyes as he fucks himself into my open throat.

Yoongi’s brow is creased and my name is leaving his lip in a near constant stream. I let him use me until I feel that he’s close and cave my cheeks in. He moans louder as I suck harder using my hand to pump what I can’t take right now. Yoongi pulling my hair sends a shiver of pleasure through my body that shocks me.

I grab onto Yoongi’s beautiful thighs as he shoots his load down my throat with a whiny moan of my name. I continue sucking his cock until he pulls my head away from overstimulation.

“How do you get better at that every time?” Yoongi says brushing my hair away from my face.

#yoonmin #min yoongi #park jimin #fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #smut #yoonmin smut

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bbeanbbao · 2 years ago

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nothing on me but you

summary

Yoongi, Jimin and you.

You weren't entirely sure how the three of you had come to this arrangement but here you found yourself, and it was addictive.

relationship

min yoongi/park jimin/you

tags

f/m/m, threesome, smut, vaginal sex, kinky, soft dom yoongi, switch/vers jimin, sub reader, one-shot

read on ao3!

preview 🔞

You weren't entirely sure how the three of you had come to this arrangement. Not sure who made the first move, who had suggested it, how exactly it had happened.

Was it Jimin who had kissed behind your ear as you had lounged around together that day? Or maybe it was Yoongi, sliding his hand up your thigh, who had started this. Maybe it had just been a look shared between the three of you, in that way that you all just knew.

What you do know is that the first time it happened, it had been in the living room of your shared apartment, kisses that turned into clothes being stripped. That turned into two pairs of hands on your body, touching you and making you feel things you'd never felt before.

It had ended with you breathless on your back, cum dripping down your thighs and your chest, panting and aching.

After the first time, it didn't happen again for a while and you were so worried; scared that you had all crossed that line that friends maybe should never cross, that maybe you had seen too much of each other now, done too much to each other.

But through some stroke of fate, though that line had been crossed, things didn't really change, at least in your everyday life with your two best friends.

Jimin was still the kind sweetheart who wrapped you in blankets when you were cold, bought you little gifts just because he felt like it, and could talk to you and giggle with you for hours.

Yoongi was still the strong pillar you had always leant on, quietly but unwaveringly showing his love in small ways - leaving you home cooked meals when he knew you were working late, playing your favourite songs when you were doing laundry together, drinking glasses of whisky with you late into the night, setting the world to rights and laughing at your crazy ideas.

But as time stretched on, you all began to feel that need again, that ache for something more. You tossed and turned in bed more nights that you could count, the image of Jimin's toned body hovering above you, his dark hair falling into his eyes and his honey skin glistening with a sheen of sweat; the feel of Yoongi's lips on your neck, his rough hands feeling your body and his cat-like eyes looking up at you; the memory of Yoongi’s deep voice commanding Jimin to go harder until he spilled inside you...the memories were vivid in your mind and your body was crying out for it.

You could sense Yoongi and Jimin felt the same, their touches on you, always friendly and sweet, becoming more lingering. Jimin biting his lip when he looked at you, Yoongi's eyes catching on your mouth as you spoke.

It all came to a head one rainy night when a sex scene started in the movie you were all watching, and Jimin slowly shuffled closer to you. You felt his hand on the back of your neck, delicately playing with your hair, and you could hear his breathing become a little heavier.

"Aw, is our Jiminie enjoying the movie a little too much?" Yoongi had suddenly teased, voice low. Jimin flashed him a frustrated look then turned to you.

"How are you finding the movie?" he'd asked, lips close to your ear. You felt a pleasurable shudder roll through your body.

"It's okay," you had started. "But I'm not enjoying it as much as you clearly are." You'd flicked your eyes down to his lap, where his hand was pushing slightly, clearly trying to tame a growing hard-on.

"Maybe Jiminie is thinking about if he could do those things to you. You'd like that, wouldn't you Jimin?" Yoongi continued and Jimin had let out a huff. You could have almost laughed at how cliche this situation was but no - it was happening.

"Fuck you, hyung," Jimin had bitten back, but Yoongi had just chuckled darkly.

"Maybe one day, but for now..." His eyes had moved to yours and you held your breath. "I think I'd like to see you take care of Jimin's problem, perhaps."

continue reading on ao3!

#bts fanfic #bts smut #yoonmin #yoongi x jimin x reader #yoongi x jimin #yoonmin smut #threes0me #smut

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justanotherstarlightmonger · 2 years ago

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Piece of peace ch 9

A night in town (1)

Summary: Park Jimin and Min Yoongi had forgone the city life months ago, opting to settle into their dream cottage in the woods born of dreams and furnished with love. And it was always going to be them. Until the biggest thunderstorm of the year carried an unexpected guest to their door smack dab in the middle of them living their isolated dream

Pairing: Yoongi x Jimin, Yoongi x Jimin x reader

Word count: 1.1 k words

Warnings: None

POP Navigation

Taglist: @themochiverse and my yoonmin anon.

A/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MY SWEETS!

The dress Jimin had bought you was a beautiful electric blue. The neckline hugged your clavicles and tapered to your shoulders and the ruffles that began at your waist flowed out to your knees when you cinched in your waist. It was a silky fabric that fell around you weightlessly and was a dream to move in. As you admired the way you looked in the mirror in the hallway, your hair sitting upon your shoulders, Yoongi stepped out of their bedroom.

Your eyes met his in the mirror and both of you stopped dead in your tracks.

He wore a plain white shirt, tucked into black trousers, with the top two buttons undone and a careless sweep to his hair as if he had freshly blow-dried them.

He was a vision. His earrings catching the light above, he tilted his head towards you with a broad smile.

You felt breathless.

How was he this good-looking? Was this even possible? You shuffled your slipper clad feet and brushed some invisible dust off your dress, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"You look so pretty y/n-ie" he said softly as he came to stand in front of you.

"I– you look amazing too!" You nodded enthusiastically. This felt foreign. But felt right. Felt easy, almost.

You hadn't been one for fine dining, even fast food hangouts had been overshadowed by the worry of getting home in time. Yet, here you were, in the serenity of this home, dressed your best, standing in front of a man who had been nothing but truthful and accepting, waiting for another man who had seemed to pick your heart just like those pieces of glasses he had picked from the ground.

Presently, Jimin was ready too.

He wore something almost identical to Yoongi, both of them looking similar but different due to their hair and difference of accessories, but they looked like a force to be reckoned with nonetheless.

It was getting harder to breathe the longer you looked at them.

And then Jimin brought out these dainty silver ear cuffs for you.

"I figured you wouldn't have jewelry to go with the dress, but I didn't buy any coz I have more than enough to share" there was a coy smile on his lips as he held out his palm where the simple, but clearly expensive jewels shone.

There was no way that was real diamonds shining on there right?

RIGHT?

With shaking hands, you took the earrings and put them on, turning to the mirror again and almost fainting at the sight.

You looked good, yes, but it was the molten sunrays in the two pair of chocolate eyes that looked into yours in the reflection that made you feel as if you were the most beautiful girl in existence.

A flood of warmth and shyness crashed into you and you turned away. "Ehm… I'm ready whenever you are "

As you three made your way to the car, Yoongi in the rear, you heard a light chuckle and then what sounded like a slap. Turning back, you saw a red faced Jimin staring down a dark eyed Yoongi.

"What?" He shrugged, "it's not my fault those pants fit you that well."

Jimin shook his head at you apologetically and moved ahead to open the door for you.

You had to admit, that was a really nice ass.

~~~~~~~~

Dinner was a splendid affair. There were courses whose names you couldn't pronounce, and flavors you had never tasted.

Yoongi and Jimin miraculously seemed to know what you'd like, and Jimin even encouraged you to get a refill on the fancy wine.

Conversation flowed easy with them too.

And more than once, your heart panged at the peace and love in the air, and how deprived you had been of this all your life.

As if you never knew you were missing air itself.

After two glasses of wine, you felt a flush on your face and a spring in your limbs. And the way Jimin was shooting heart eyes at Yoongi, was all too clear to your eyes. So when Yoongi went to the bathroom, you pointed an accusing finger at Jimin,

"You really love him huh?"

Jimin giggled softly, "I do, what gave it away."

"You have hearts in your eyes" you nodded knowingly.

"Are you drunk already sweets?" Jimin asked.

You shook your head, "Nope, maybe a little. But don't change the topic."

"Ok, let's talk about how much I love him then."

"How?" You frowned, a little pout forming.

"It's not hard." Jimin leaned on his arm.

"I've heard love is hard though," you argued.

"It's really not" he whispered, straightening in his chair as Yoongi came back.

"What did I miss?" He asked.

"Nothing" you smiled angelically.

"Miss, the gentleman three tables down asked me to give you this" the waiter came to your table and placed a neatly folded note beside your plate.

Yoongi and Jimin's eyebrows were high, as your eyes focused on the waiter, then the smiling guy who sent the note and then the note itself.

With a slight tremble of thrill you unfolded it to aneatly scribbled,

'Allow me to take you dancing after you're done with dinner.'

Once again, your eyes shot to the stranger. His eyes were piercing and dark, cheekbones high and lips set in a little smile of self confidence. His dark hair framed his face and his tie was loosened around his collar, giving him a strange, mysterious but enticing aura.

He nodded at you, and raised his wine glass to you, then to your lips.

Both the guys in front of you saw your cheeks flush maroon and your fingers fidget in your lap.

They gave each other a look and turned back to look at him too.

The stranger's eyes flitted to them momentarily then found yours again and tilted his head in question.

It was a risk.

You looked at Yoongi, slipping him the note that he read swiftly.

Jimin's jaw tightened imperceptibly.

"Would you like to?" He asked.

"I think I would… " you said softly. It was a risk, but you had been taking so many. And the guy was good looking, and gentlemanly enough to be here wasn't he? "... but I'm not sure" the fear of strangers still ran in you deep.

Yoongi blinked, then grasped Jimin's thigh. He was in his 'in charge' mode.

"You should go if you want to y/n, we'll accompany you. You won't be alone."

Jimin's head snapped to Yoongi, incredulous but the older just nodded softly at you.

"We won't be too far. Go have fun."

You smiled, feeling a silent reassurance engulf your fear and dull it.

"Let the gentleman know I'd like that." You smiled to the waiter.

#yoonmin fluff #yoonmin smut #yoonmin fic #yoonmin fanfic #yoonmin x reader #yoongi x jimin #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #bts poly #bts x reader

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ilys00ga · 1 month ago

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𝗢𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗨𝗣𝗢𝗡 𝗔 𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡.

PAIR: yoongi x f reader

TAGS/WARNINGS: strangers to lovers, 'love at first sight' (I tried, okay?), producer!yoongi, producer!reader, fluff, I don't really know how to tag anymore, oh yeah no warnings just smoking ig, cats <3 this is very cheesy but op requested that sooo!!

A/N: requested <333 this is not my proudest work. and to be honest, I don't think I like it that much. but this is the best I can provide atm :,) I hope yall like it. don't forget yo leave ur feedback and comments! lots of love <333

SYNOPSIS: the one where yoongi falls in love at first sight on the streets of his city.

PS. ignore all mistakes people, thank u. I can't believe I even managed to finish and post this !

It all started one breezy Tuesday night—The first time Yoongi felt his heart leap in his chest because of a complete stranger.

The tune he had been stuck dealing with for the previous couple of hours was an endless loop echoing in his head, a desperate effort of his brain to solve his headaches for himself.

Being a significant producer-songwriter for many, he was often locked up in his studio for entire days, sometimes even weeks, but that's when he can tell he's on the verge of plunging into insanity—the irony of choosing to do the one thing he loved the most in this world—if he didn’t pick up his keys and his phone, headed towards the door and walked the tension between his bones away.

On his way back home that night, he let his legs bring him to a park by the edge of a vast river. It was fairly late into the night, but some humans lingered there and about.

He sat on a lonely bench, drawing some of the fresh air into his lungs before leaning back and making himself comfortable against his seat. Usually, he’d go for less crowded places, places where solitude spoke to his mind and put it to rest in the middle of the chaos his life was. That night, he found himself watching people existing on the edge of that river, where the water spoke the language of the sky and painted an image of the bright moon and city lights.

On their little picnic mats were couples sharing delicate intimacy and friend groups laughing and chatting amongst themselves, while cyclists drifted by. A perfect picture of humans basking in the moment.

And Yoongi? He had a cigarette burning between his fingers to keep him company.

His thoughts ran with a mind of their very own, he almost didn't notice her.

The stranger passed by him like the gentle whispers of breeze that played with his hair strands. A nearby cat caught her attention, she crouched down and petted it.

“You're hungry, aren't you? Me too, me too. I only had lunch today. Coffee for breakfast. I'm working on a new project these days. It's always hectic, you know? You probably don't. You're just a cute fluff ball. Wandering around. Surviving.”

Such were the soft words he heard the human say. It seemed like a natural conversation to any passing-by ear. He wouldn't have guessed a cat was at the receiving end if he weren't at a short proximity from them, but the simple interaction painted a faint smile on his face. It was endearingly pleasant.

Shifting his gaze to the scenery ahead of himself, he took long, thorough drags of his cigarette, and let his thoughts consume him.

“Hey, can I sit here?” He heard her voice again. Yoongi looked up, almost startled. The first thought that came to his mind was that her friendly smile reminded him of Sakura leaves dripping from the sky.

She pointed to the other end of the bench he sat on, waiting for his response.

“Yes, of course.” He replied, ignoring the way his heart dramatically skipped a beat in his chest, and the way the sound of the world existing around him faded into a blissful quiet once their gazes met.

She sat down quietly, her smell lingered in the air between them, and spoke again, “Cats hate the smell of cigarettes, you know.”

He looked at her again, the warm streetlamps kissed all over her features, giving him a better view of her face.

Her eyes, Yoongi thought he finally found something new to write a song about.

Regardless of the gentleness of her voice—almost as soft as the distant sound of the waves dancing across the shore—he glanced down at the cigarette in his hand with a weird sense of embarrassment.

“My bad.” He muttered, doing a quick job of pressing the burning cigarette to the sole of his shoe. Its once alive flame slowly died into a lifeless gray dust, before being tossed into a trash bin nearby.

She smiled, “It's okay. Have you ever owned a cat?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat and answered with a short ‘yes’.

“Then you should know they don't appreciate it when people ruin their lungs like that.” She added, her tone light-hearted.

That made him release a soft chuckle into the air. His heart fluttered in his chest when she chuckled along, and then she proceeded to tell him that she too, although rarely, smoked as well.

“I always keep cat food in my bag just in case.” She said, bringing out a pack of cat food from her bag and showing it to him.

“Why?” He asked. He knew why, of course he did, but he'd never felt so at ease with a stranger before. He had the urge to initiate any form of conversation with the stranger to hear pieces of her mind for some longer.

“Because all cats deserve food and love. Especially the stray ones.” It was not hard to pick up on the shift that happened to her tone. The lightness that was once present on her features quickly faded into faint dullness. It almost made a frown of his own appear on his face.

She added, “Sadly, that's not common in the world we live in.”

“Keep doing that.” He said. “The thing you said you always do, keep doing it. Maybe one day you'll influence someone, and that someone will influence another someone. More cats will be fed and taken care of..”

The words floated in the air for a while. She smiled, a genuine, grateful one that gave him a sense of satisfaction.

The pair sat in silence following that. Neither of them deemed the need to fill the comfortable quiet that sat on the bench between them to be necessary.

An ‘Oh!’ from between her lips broke the silence between them. The stranger's brows tugged together as she checked her watch, and she muttered something about the time going so fast and her being late for something.

He never liked to admit it to himself, but he felt a tinge of disappointment pop inside his chest at the thought of her leaving.

He silently watched as she stood up and hoisted her bag’s strap onto her shoulder, then asked about his name. He answered as casually as he could muster.

“Yoongi..” She repeated, as if savoring the name on her own tongue, and smiled, “I'm _. It was really nice meeting you.”

And just like that, she was gone, fading into the faint chatter of the people surrounding him, and he was left in the park with a cat rubbing its body against his legs. It reminded him of her, the only thing that he had left of someone he thought he would never see again.

He made sure to feed and pet the creature some more, before scooping it up in his arms and taking them home. His mother would take good care of him, he thought.

The next day, he spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering if he'd find her warm smile and affection towards strays if he were to go to that park again. He missed her eyes, her smile, the way she'd spoken to him so naturally and so easily.

He was trying to push those thoughts off his plate and focus on his work, when she walked into his studio and introduced herself as his new, awaited co-producer.

The best part of it all was the excitement she displayed upon seeing him. It felt like he was reencountered with an old friend, except that an old friend wasn't supposed to make you feel like a teenager catching the glimpse of their crush in the distance.

“Hi! It’s you again! Sorry for being late. I had a crazy morning and just when I thought I was making it I-” She proceeded to talk, but he cut her little rant off with a gentle question.

“You met another cat?”

The small but amused smile on his lips grew a little bigger when the faint blush on her cheeks became more apparent.

“Well, yeah, I kind of did..” she trailed off, tilting her head to the side in embarrassment.

It wasn't hard for them to find a common ground to stand on after that. She liked to talk, the words kept coming naturally out of her mouth, and Yoongi, he liked to listen, and he didn't mind her talking his ears off one bit.

One day after another, hours spent in the studio together. It slowly became something very familiar to him, the feelings her presence gave him. They shared takeout meals on his uncomfortable studio couch and many cups of coffee at late hours of the night. The project they worked on continued to link his heart to hers. On days she would walk in with a deep frown on her face or tears staining her cheeks, she would sit on that couch and mope, and he would wordlessly open a can of beer and put it in front of her, then sit to work next to her until she decided life was worth living again.

From a stranger, to a ‘friend’, to someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. She was not only a good hearted person, but an incredibly smart and talented producer.

If feeding cats together did not push him over the edge of what he thought he would never come to experience again, then working with her surely did.

Sure, he didn’t have his answers. He didn’t know if it was going to be a long lasting thing, or just one more of those phases where his lonesome heart clung onto something other than the thing he loves the most, music, before deciding it had enough. He didn’t know what to do with the feelings that kept growing in his chest and the stupid butterflies he felt in his guts every time she so much as smiled at him. But he knew that spending hours at work and feeding stray cats became things he looked up to every single morning.

More importantly, he had a feeling that whatever he was feeling didn't come from his part alone, but it was all left unsaid for the sake of keeping a fine line between work and personal emotions.

And then it happened, their first, tipsy kiss. When they shared a bottle of liquor and celebrated the wrap-up of their project. The faint blush on her cheeks every time their eyes met made him feel like screaming at the top of his lungs.

He tasted the alcohol on her cherry lips, and oh, how he loved the taste on his tongue.

He thought he'd reached the peak of helplessness when he wrote poems for her eyes, but then he wrote some more for her lips, then her smile, then her hair, then her hands… and then there was no going back.

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sailoryooons · 2 years ago

Note

Hello my lovely friend 😌 I’m so so so proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished this past year! And thank you for letting me be a small part of your time here 💜

Also pls give me some unhinged urban fantasy Yoonmin to feed my sick soul 🙏🏽 I love you 😈 보라해

❀ Pairing: Half-demon!Yoongi x Demon Lord!Jimin

❀ Summary: samsara [sɘm-sӓr-ɘ](noun) : the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma. OR: Yoongi has made a terrible mistake that has bound Jimin to a life of endless grief.

❀ Word Count: 4,060

❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, angst, smut, lovers to not?

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

❀ Warnings: Vague world-building, mention of guns and Yoongi is restrained the entire time, angst!!!!, Yoongi has fucked over Jimin, references to Christian theology, mentions of scars, Jimin is mean, sexually explicit content including light blood play, restraints, spit play, no anal prep or foreplay, unprotected sex (anal penetration), ONE kiss even though I wanted to write more, very disconnected/angry sex, no aftercare, Yoongi and Jimin are fucking sad!!!! And distant!!!! Not a happy ending really? Just vague.

❀ Published: April 1, 2023

❀ A/N: Jai thank you so much for trusting me to write this for you. I know that the original picture is a little bit more … unhinged and I was planning to go far more unhinged with this, but somehow the poem really made me more angsty and I loved the bit about two-hundred and ten million years of desire wash through me and I really tried to channel that here. I at least still have the image of Yoongi being tied up with Jimin on top of him with a gun lmao. Thank you for being here and making me love writing in this community so much. ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST MEMBER X MEMBER FIC I’VE EVER WRITTEN SO BE FUCKING NICE TO ME PLEASE I’M VERY FUCKING SCARED RIGHT NOW.

Thank you @here2bbtstrash for beta reading and making this perfect ily and I love our totally legit monogamous relationship

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Yoongi might be having a bad night. Really, he knows that it’s fifty-fifty. He can feel the weight of drugs making him sluggish, eyes too heavy to open. There’s a tight squeeze around his arms, which are pinned to his body. When he squirms, he feels the constriction of what he thinks are ropes or cables - it’s hard to tell through the leather of his jacket.

There’s definitely pain blooming from his skull, a throb that beats in time with his heart. It’s part of the reason why he keeps his eyes closed as he tries to suss out the rest of his scenario, tied up and drugged as he is. He can smell the sheets - his own, for sure. That’s his sage shampoo he smells and the soft rub of jersey knit against his cheek.

Tied up, drugged, and in his own bed.

It’s definitely fifty-fifty where this is going to go. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been drugged and tied up only to receive the best orgasm of his life. However, he has also had his ass beat after fucking up a contract for Hoseok, starting in this exact scenario.

Someone moves in the room. Yoongi keeps his breathing even and soft, feigning sleep as he listens. His hearing is sharper than most, but the footfalls of the other person are inaudible to him. When he hears a sound again, it’s something like a scoff. Purposeful.

They know he’s awake, and they know he’s listening.

Still, Yoongi’s captor doesn’t say anything. The bed dips near Yoongi’s feet. Not significantly, indicating his kidnapper is smaller- can he be kidnapped if he’s home? The soundless way they move rules out humans. Yoongi can’t even hear them breathe as they crawl up his legs, the sound of material scratching against material the only thing he can make out.

Fuck. They’re dressed, which leads Yoongi to believe this isn’t the kind of restraint that leads to fun. He’s a little disappointed, sagging into the bed as the weight of a person - or creature - settles on his waist.

He doesn’t move, waiting for them to make the first move. Yoongi runs through a list of enemies and internally winces. It’s long, and so many of them are recent that he thinks the weight sitting on top of him could be there to collect any number of debts.

Cold metal kisses Yoongi’s cheek. He shivers in response immediately, gut flipping as goosebumps break out up and down his arms. As a half-demon, he’s not as susceptible to temperatures as full humans are, and he’s not invulnerable like a full-blooded demon. But the metal against his skin tingles, vibrating at a frequency that he can barely detect.

Brimstone.

Fuck. The list of enemies that own a gun made with brimstone alloy grows shorter, but Yoongi is none the wiser.

“Come on,” the voice urges, barely above a whisper. “You gonna fucking look at me or what?”

That voice pulls Yoongi’s eyes open immediately, his head turning to blink away the swimming colors and whirling lights as his vision melts into place. His mouth falls open slightly as he looks up to see Jimin peering down at him, head cocked and frowning.

Yoongi’s heart thunders in his chest as he fights between trying to find something to say and drinking in the vision that is Jimin. He looks a little bit different. His hair is longer than it was last time, shorter on the sides than in the back, almost in a mullet but not quite. He’s a slip of a thing but heavy, indicating there’s weight on his wiry frame.

And his face. Hells, his face is devastating. Siren eyes staring at him, sucking the breath from Yoongi as he gazes and gazes and gazes. He could stare into Jiimin’s eyes forever, falling head over heels into their bottomless depths as he loses sense of the world.

Jimin smirks and presses the gun in his hand to Yoongi’s cheek hard enough that the metal is pushing uncomfortably against his cheekbone. Yoongi doesn’t care, gaze sweeping over the rest of his captor. Smug, full lips that are always a natural shade of rose, narrow nose with the perfect rounded tip, and an angry scar that vanishes into the collar of Jimin’s black jacket.

Yoongi turns his attention from the scar before thinking about it and then looks again, not wanting Jimin to notice.

But it’s Jimin. One of the many Lords of Hell. He notices, and the gun digs in a little deeper as Jimin’s face morphs from beautiful to terrible. “What?” Jimin seethes. “Don’t like seeing your work? You should admire it, Yoongi. True fucking art isn’t it?”

“You’re beautiful.” His voice comes out hoarse from disuse. He licks his lips which are dry and cracked. “With and without it.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

Yoongi feels the space between them so much at these times. The first few minutes of seeing him again are always the worst to navigate. Sometimes Jimin is so full of hate that there’s no crossing the rough waters between them. Sometimes Jimin is so full of grief that Yoongi capsizes in the storm.

They are best in the middle. Somewhere between hate and want.

“Why am I all tied up?” He wiggles at the rope. He’s starting to lose feeling in his arms, a soft tingle settling from his elbows to fingers. He looks down at the gun - a pistol, dark black and buzzing with the energy of a Hell-made weapon. “And why is there a gun pointed at me?”

“I thought about killing you.” There’s no sign on Jimin’s face as to whether he means it or not. “Didn’t want to do it while you were asleep, though.”

“A weapon like this would do it.” Yoongi feels his breath catch as something angry flickers in Jimin’s eyes and he feels the need to add, “Permanently. This would kill me permanently.”

“I know.”

It hangs in the air between them, the finality of Jimin’s admission. That he thought about killing Yoongi. Not for the first time over the years they have been playing this game. Sometimes, Jimin even conceded to killing Yooongi. Small deaths. Minor deaths. Impermanent. The kind that sends Yoongi to the edge of Hell where he at least gets to see Namjoon occasionally.

Those meetings are always awkward when the Guardian of Hell sees Yoongi standing in the corner, alone and not in line with others waiting to be sorted. Namjoon always gives him the same smile and pat on the back.

“It’s nice to see you,” Namjoon always says. “Alas, this one isn’t permanent. I’ll see you next time he sends you, yeah?”

Sometimes Yoongi just nods, toeing his boot in the gravel before Namjoon’s eyes go white with light and Yoongi is flooded with blinding pain as he’s sent back topside. Other times, he’s more talkative.

Now, Yoongi stares down the barrel of something that wouldn’t send him to Namjoon. It would send him straight to Seokjin, who has an empty cell waiting for Yoongi.

“Well,” Yoongi murmurs. He looks up to see Jimin watching him. He’s no longer expressionless. There is pain in those eyes - eons of it. Yoongi tries to figure out how to get Jimin away from his grief, how to walk him back toward the safe zone between hatred and… something else. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did it.”

“It wouldn’t fix this.” Jimin’s hand comes up to the rough scar on his neck, jagged and knotted red. “It wouldn’t fix me.”

It’s true. What Yoongi did to keep Jimin will never let him go, even if Yoongi dies. It had been done out of… desire, out of want, out of something that was so confused with love that Yoongi had sacrificed Jimin’s free will to keep him bound to earth, year after year, decade after decade. At the time, Yoongi thought that the word was love. He did it out of love.

Now he knows that love could not do something like this. Love cannot be responsible for Yoongi taking the knife to Jimin’s neck, spilling his blood over the sacred ground to taint it and make it an anchor point. Love could not have driven Yoongi, half-assed in magic, to bind Jimin to earth for longer than he was allowed.

Love could not have been responsible for Yoongi condemning Jimin to a life of recurring pain. To agony. All for one week of time with him. A single blip in the endless abyss of their lives.

Lords cannot walk topside, Jimin had gasped, that wet, death-rattle sound. You cannot undo this.

As a Lord of Hell, Jimin’s time allotted on earth was only snippets of hours. Too powerful to walk the earth, he and the others are only given tiny moments to walk among the living, to see the vitality of life pulsing through the streets.

Punishment for anything longer than that is endless torture at the end of Belial’s fiery whip. It is eons of time passing between eternal lashes and the snatch of one week that Jimin is bound to exist on earth.

It only took a collection of hours for Yoongi to want Jimin - for he cannot call it love, now. Stolen moments pressed so firmly behind Yoongi’s eyes when he sleeps that it makes him dizzy. Makes him sick, to feel and relive the memories.

But Yoongi is bad at magic, and now Jimin is bound to a week on earth once every year. Beyond his allotted limit. Beyond what is allowed. And thus, the cycles of Jimin’s life have been secured: A week on earth between years and years of punishment in Hell for breaking the rules. Eons of time passing differently from that on earth, with Jimin suffering for Yoongi trying to steal more than hours with Jimin.

But Yoongi is bad at magic and didn’t realize he bound Jimin to the earth. Not to Yoongi. So Jimin would live on in this hellish cycle even without Yoongi.

“I should do it,” Jimin murmurs. His eyes are distant and Yoongi knows that Jimin is weighing the consequences.

For one week, he gets to stay here. To do what he wants with his time. Sometimes he spends his week never leaving Yoongi’s bed. Sometimes he spends it inflicting as much pain and suffering on Yoongi as he can. Sometimes, he spends it trying to find a way out from Yoongi, from this.

“But I’ve been living this curse for this long with you. Perhaps I could do it a little longer.”

The words aren’t romantic, but Yoongi’s heart flutters. He watches as Jimin heaves a sigh, pulling the heavy weight of the gun from Yoongi’s cheek. There is a dull throb there, his sensitive skin bruising already as Jimin leans, shifting his weight to put the gun on the table.

Jimin’s movement creates friction against Yoongi’s crotch and his stomach flips, arousal shooting straight to his cock. He hates it, that something as simple as this with Jimin can have that effect. He feels flushed as Jimin settles his weight back on Yoongi, sitting directly on his dick where the blood starts to flow.

Yoongi’s fingers flex, needing to squirm somewhere. He doesn’t dare move his hips, but he needs to move, needs to fidget as the feeling sinks deeper into his stomach.

Jimin looks down at him and it’s the most beautiful thing Yoongi has ever seen. He wouldn’t mind if it were Jimin who sent him to that permanently reserved spot in Hell for him. Yoongi deserves it and has been evading permanent death for almost two hundred years now, as befits the bastard son of Hell’s prince.

Only Jimin can send Yoongi to that place forever, now. Only Jimin has the power and pull to do it without Yoongi’s sire stepping in.

Stupid boy, the Prince of Hell had whispered when Yoongi admitted it to his father, that Wednesday it was raining some time ago. Anchoring a Lord to this mortal plane. I will not let him go unpunished. Not for you, not for him. He will suffer like the others, and so will you, should he decide he’s had enough of you and your endless folly.

Yoongi always wonders when Jimin will decide he’s had enough. He hopes it’s not tonight, though. Not with the way Jimin’s face has softened, finally drifting away from grief and despair to something else.

“I’m tired,” Jimin admits. He drops his hands to fiddle with the hem of Yoongi’s shirt. Delicate fingers brush against hot skin and Yoongi can’t help but wiggle his hips this time. He lets out a sound between a sigh and a whine and the corner of Jimin’s mouth lifts as he watches Yoongi through half-lidded eyes. “Alright, then.”

Shadow fills the room. Yoongi looks to see that night has blocked out the window. Inside his room, it’s just Jimin’s pressing shadow and a single lamp glowing over by the door. Somehow, Yoongi feels comforted by the throbbing of Jimin’s shadow magic and the way that Jimin’s hands drift to unbutton his jeans.

Yoongi’s breath is stuck in his chest as Jimin’s small fingers work the zipper. Jimin has always been small, but mighty. A force to be reckoned with, a shadow storm beneath skin. It’s what Yoongi loved - admired - most about Jimin. How he moves through the world unchallenged and respected. How he loves when Yoongi fights him, challenges him, and questions him as no one else dares.

Now, Yoongi doesn’t think Jimin admires Yoongi’s challenges. It was Yoongi’s challenge to rules and fate that got them into this reincarnated week of hell.

Whatever was between them had died a long time ago. But there is still want, and as Yoongi’s jeans scrap down his thighs and he shivers when Jimin nips at his knee, the want is all he can think about.

It is in his blood, this craving for Jimin. This need, this desire, this unhinged aching feeling that claws at Yoongi’s belly. The same insanity that drove him to destroy Jimin for a single sliver of time and tie him to the mortal world.

Jimin doesn’t untie Yoongi. It makes Yoongi a little dizzy as Jimin shucks his jeans all the way off, leaning forward to bite savagely into the meat of Yoongi’s thigh. He cries out, both in pain and a bolt of pleasure. He’s hard now, cock throbbing as Jimin’s breath ghosts over Yoongi’s thighs. Jimin leans back, eyes locking on Yoongi as he sheds his clothes.

It’s a sight to see. Jimin had been an angel once, before that long one-trip fall. He can see the grace in Jimin’s beauty. Soft cheeks and lips, supple thighs and ass, ribbon curves like a dancer. But there’s shadow too, the hard cut of Jimin’s jaw, the sharpness of his eyes as they land on Yoongi, the powerful muscle corded in his compact body.

Yoongi very much feels like prey as Jimin kneels on the bed, naked. He’s beautiful, a rendition of Michaelangelo’s David but with a much bigger cock, thick and brown at the tip, dripping beads of precum. Yoongi makes a needy sound. He doesn’t mean to, but it comes out when he sees how hard Jimin is.

“Shut up,” Jimin bites out and Yoongi bites his lip hard. Doesn’t make a sound, though his feet dig into the bed and he’s hot all over, suffocating as he’s naked from the waist down and trapped in a jacket and shirt. He wants Jimin to take the rest off, to feel Jimin’s skin. “Don’t be a whore.”

Yoongi is dizzy. He wants to be a whore, if it gets him closer. If he has to act like one to get the damn clothes off, he thinks he just might. But he gets distracted, watching as Jimin fists his cock, pumping leisurely and tilting his head back, golden lamplight painting him, making him glow.

Golden boy, so full of pain.

Jimin stops stroking himself to crawl up Yoongi’s body. Yoongi holds his breath as Jimin cages him in, leaning forward so their noses are almost touching. Yoongi searches for softness in Jimin’s eyes, but there is none. Not for him, not anymore. Want, sure. Desire, sure. But nothing more than the craving for Yoongi in Jimin’s blood.

Jimin’s cock brushes against Yoongi’s and even the barest hint of skin on skin sends a zap of pleasure down his spine and he bites his bottom lip, trying to keep quiet like asked. He tastes metal and salt in his mouth, lip bleeding from the force of his bite.

“Just one,” Jimin says, more to himself than to Yoongi.

And then Jimin kisses him and nothing else matters.

Jimin’s tongue tangles with Yoongi’s in a lick of warmth and blood. Yoongi’s world spins as their mouths melt together, slow and heated. There’s no air in his lungs and he doesn’t care, lifting his head, sucking Jimin’s tongue into his mouth.

Yoongi’s neck and chest feel hot and the room is tilted on its axis when Jimin rolls his hips against Yoongi’s. He moans into Jimin’s mouth, his skin tingling as pleasure curls through him, cock leaking and sticky against Jimin’s as he continues to devour Yoongi’s mouth.

It feels like he’s in a shitty hotel room stealing a moment with Jimin again, frotting against one another in a rush of heat and borrowed time. He wiggles his arms, trying to free himself, trying to grab a hold of Jimin and feel him. He wants so badly to-

Jimin pulls away and Yoongi’s eyes snap open. Blood is smeared across Jimin’s mouth and he’s not looking Yoongi in the eye.

“Jimin-”

“No,” he answers, not looking up. He spits in his hand, fluid tinged pink from Yoongi’s blood in his mouth. He closes his eyes and leans back, stroking himself a few times with one hand as he pushes Yoongi’s thighs open with another. “I said one.”

Yoongi realizes what he meant now. One kiss. It was all he was allowing Yoongi to have. Or perhaps, all he was willing to take.

Grief threatens to take away the vibration under Yoongi’s skin from the feeling of Jimin against him, but he ignores it in favor of squirming when Jimin grabs his cock and prods Yoongi’s tight rim. He grinds his teeth, realizing Jimin isn’t going to prep him or stretch him wide before fucking him. Yoongi deserves the pain, he supposes.

Instead of begging Jimin to wait, Yoongi opens his legs wider. Doesn’t complain that he’s still tied up for Jimin to do what he wants, still half-clothed and unable to feel anything except the pulsing throb of his cock and Jimin’s tip breaching the tight ring of Yoongi’s ass.

The burn is intense. Yoongi holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut, unable to think beyond the ringing in his ears and the way Jimin pushes into him. Yoongi tries to relax but can’t, his body shivering as it flips between pain and pleasure. Jimin is at least slow, the push of his cock against Yoongi’s tight walls both delicious and terrible all at once.

Yoongi’s vision dances in front of him, pulses black at the edges. He gasps, suddenly remembering to breathe as Jimin bottoms out, holding all of his weight where his hips rest against Yoongi’s ass, waiting and letting Yoongi spasm around him. His walls hug Jimin’s cock tight. His muscles twitch and scream at the intrusion.

It hurts but Yoongi doesn’t care. It’s good - better than good. He is so so full, Jimin buried inside of him, and he’s kicking his feet on the bed, needing more, wanting more. He doesn’t know if he says it or if Jimin is done waiting because he pulls back, cock dragging against Yoongi and he nearly passes out with relief.

Yoongi is seeing stars, fingers gripping the bottom of his shirt as Jimin starts to fuck him in earnest. Yoongi’s breath punches out of him with every snap of Jimin’s hips, as though the Lord of Hell can fuck the oxygen from his lungs. It feels like he is, hitting deep inside Yoongi where he swears only Jimin can reach.

Jimin is vicious, hands clawing the sheets as he leans forward and slams into Yoongi, the smacking of his hips drowning out Yoongi’s gasping breath. He feels like he’s being driven to the edge of madness, tight rim swallowing Jimin’s cock whole.

Shadows dance around Jimin. They curl at his collarbone, hiding his scar from Yoongi. They drift around his arms, and ghost over his flexing stomach. Both Jimin and his shadows don’t touch Yoongi though, and if he wasn’t so fucked out from the feeling of finally having Jimin back, he might cry.

Maybe he will later.

The burn lessens as Jimin jostles Yoongi suddenly. The contact is brief and cold - he realizes Jimin moved him with his shadows rather than with his hands. He swallows hard as Jimin pushes his sweaty hair back with one hand, never stopping the fluid roll of his hips fucking into Yoongi. Yoongi’s mind turns to white noise at the sight.

He goes to reach for Jimin and remembers he’s tied up. Yoongi notes he has no feeling in his arms but he doesn’t care, not when Jimin adjusts his stroke and fuck. His cock hits Yoongi just right, pressing against his prostate and Yoongi starts to babble.

This time, Jimin doesn’t tell Yoongi to shut up. He lets the slurred string of noises leave Yoongi’s mouth as Yoongi starts to go slack under Jimin, letting the pleasure drag him under. He feels lost in it, swimming in this feeling that ebbs and ebbs and ebbs until it’s a pulsing inferno that feels like it's going to corrode him from the inside out.

“Come on,” Jimin grunts, teeth clenched. “Come for me. Just like you know how to.”

Just like you know how to.

Suddenly, Yoongi is back to before.

When they were just Yoongi and Jimin, not meeting in this weekly cycle of endless misery that he has signed them up for.

When Jimin would catch Yoongi late at night, slipping in with his shadows to wake Yoongi up.

When Jimin would fuck Yoongi to desperation, sweaty chests pressed together and moving in the moonlight coming in from the window.

When Yoongi would come, cock pressed between the two of them, sticky and messy, and mouth tangled with Jimin, the slow push of Jimin’s cock making Yoongi insane.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He wants to see Jimin. He knows he’s about to come, that fire inside of him ready to unleash. But he wants to see Jimin as he does it. As if that will make it better, this detached, feral thing that exists between them.

Jimin is a vision. He hovers over Yoongi, a being of shadow and light, stuck somewhere in between. He is so beautiful and impermanent. Yoongi only gets these moments in flashes, when their paths cross inevitably. When Jimin comes to find him, that one week of the year.

There is salt on Yoongi’s tongue when he comes with Jimin’s name shaped in his mouth. He realizes he’s crying. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Jimin doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything, chasing his high with a furious snap of his hips and a snarl on his face.

Yoongi fades. His eyes roll back as he drifts somewhere else, letting Jimin use him for his orgasm. He hears him growl once, slamming into Yoongi so deep that it pulls him just a little from the dreamless, listless haze of his comedown.

At some point, he thinks he falls asleep. Or maybe something like sleep, because he vanishes from the room, but he feels Jimin pull out. Feels the wet gush of his hole, feels the afterburn of Jimin’s visit.

But when he opens his eyes, there’s no one there. There are no shadows, there is no Jimin. The illusion of being able to have anything with Jimin shatters. Yoongi knows it will keep shattering, a mirror broken in an endless cycle of misfortune.

Yoongi is left alone and waiting for Jimin’s next visit. For the next time that Jimin is dragged from where he lay flayed, only to exist in the samsara Yoongi has shackled him to.

#bts smut #yoongi x jimin #yoongi x jimin smut #yoonmin smut #yoonmin angsy #bts angst #bts fanfic #halis milestone requests #demon jimin #demon yoongi

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vminhoes · 9 months ago

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Count me in

Jimin has had it with his boyfriends fucking without him.

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mapofthesea · 2 years ago

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producers!yoonmin x assistant!reader, fem!reader, bi!yoonmin

genre: smut with some plot, slight fluff

summary: There’s no telling just how long you'd been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain

warnings: swearing, slight arguing/playful name calling, mentions of alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, dom!yoonmin x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don’t do it), they're kind of in a situationship, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, spanking, choking, penetrative sex, some mxm, cum eating, big dick behavior and practice from both of them, hinting at feelings

a/n: this is mature content so if you are under 18 years old or uncomfortable with this, please do not go below the cut! I also do not proofread of edit my work so there may be some typos, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

When you’d first been hired, the request came through your temp agency, and you knew nothing other than the address before you showed up. By then you were no stranger to the life of an assistant; you had fallen into the line of work after failing to find a job in your field. The first few temp jobs were exactly what you expected. Fielding phone calls and delivering coffee to big wigs in uncomfortable, cheap dress clothes became your new normal for several months, so when you arrived at the gray office building you figured you knew what you were in for.

Yoongi and Jimin proved to be nothing like your previous employers, and their charmingly personable attitudes made them unbelievably easy to work for. At the end of your week as their temp, you had pouted and delayed your departure by attempting to tidy up their shared studio.

“You’re not a maid, you don’t have to do that.” Yoongi cooly remarked. Even with his ears sticking out endearingly from the sides of his beanie, his dark gaze made you freeze.

“I-I know, I just- sorry.” You withered under his attention, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for the anxiety to pass. “I’ll go. Bye Yoongi, it’s been super nice working for you guys.”

You kicked yourself as the wave of disappointment saturated your words. Yoongi hadn’t done anything wrong, and there was no reason to unload your sadness on him.

“What? I thought they told you?” Yoongi chirped. “We hired you. I expect you to be back tomorrow.” An unbidden smile cracked your face and you couldn't help but notice Yoongi had mirrored it.

“Oh, oh! Um, see you tomorrow then.” Your heart thumped embarrassingly fast as you skittered out of the office, only seeing the email full of praise from them once you were tucked into the comfort of your bed.

---

“Remember when you used to be nice to me?” You hiss at the man who had just fully sat on your shins, uncaring that you squirm under him. Jimin rolls his eyes at your remark and stays where he is until you snake your legs out from under him.

“I am nice to you. I pay you.” Jimin coos and pulls your legs into his lap, his familiar touch skittering over your bare calves. After being their one and only assistant for a year and half, your working hours have become more muddled. Business often mixed with friendship, and the lines of professionalism had officially blurred to a proportion you never expected.

“We also buy you food,” Yoongi cooly adds, plopping himself in the chair across from the two of you and sweeping his hand toward the boxes of empty takeout that dotted the coffee table. A microphone and mixing board live among the mess. You sigh listlessly. They had been working on this new song for hours, tossing ideas back and forth, and although they all sounded wonderful to you, neither of them were happy with anything.

“Can I go home?” You drawl, feeling the strain of laying on the couch in the way your neck cricks and radiates a sharp headache. You subconsciously rub your fingers into the tightness at the base of your neck.

“No,” Jimin answers immediately. You sit up straight on the couch and rip your legs from his lap.

“Why?” It comes out whiny but you’re too tired to care, still rubbing at the knot in your neck. “Yoongi?” For a second you have hope he’ll let you go but he shakes his head, dark wavy strands slipping over his eyes.

“Sorry, need you here.”

You sputter, disbelief making your eyes go wide. “Okay...can I at least go get you some coffee? More food? Or something?” Sitting in the darkened studio for so long with no definable task was making you feel a bit stir crazy. You had cycled through all of the games on your phone and been scolded for spending too much time on TikTok. Even the book you kept stashed in the bottom of your tote bag was only able to occupy you for so long.

Yoongi shrugs, half of a grin on his lips. “Dunno. You have an untrained ear, slightly less bias, maybe you’ll add something to the process...” he trails, sinfully pink tongue slipping out between his lips. “You’ve also got potential as a muse.”

God. It’s painfully cliche but it makes your heart stop and your thighs clench. Suddenly you feel too hot in your shorts and sweatshirt. Jimin tuts.

“Potential.” He makes a half hearted jab, knowing all three of you are lingering on the same string of memories from just a couple of weeks before. You push the thoughts away and find a spot back on the couch, suddenly conscious of how close you sit to Jimin on the small couch.

He shuffles just close enough that your knees touch in a reassuring way that sends cascading warmth down your spine. Your face is surely flushed but you do your best to pretend you’re unfazed, picking at the skin around your cuticles as Yoongi fiddles with the soundboard.

“Again.” Jimin’s foot taps into the plush carpet in time to the music, and you know you’re in for a long night.

The track runs on a seemingly unending loop, only punctuated by your bosses bickering about technical intricacies and which word choices would serve the song better.

Yoongi fiddles with a new beat and you whine, sagging into Jimin’s side. He welcomes you into him and the intoxicating scent of his cologne has your eyes fluttering. His jaw ticks and you have to bite back the groan of desire as you watch his muscles clench and unclench as he concentrates, fingertips tapping the new rhythm in time against the top of your thigh.

For a moment you wish you were drinking; dumbly wanting to feign needing help opening the soju bottle just to hear Jimin’s little coos of how delicate you are, to have Yoongi gently take back your hair to see your flushed face when he thinks you’ve had too much to drink. Your saliva suddenly feels too thick and your head spins with the barrage of lustful thought. Jimin’s hand feels as hot as lava on your thigh and the sight of Yoongi’s finger circling one of the little knobs with deft precision makes your stomach tumble.

“I-are you guys hot?” Your voice is raspy as you spring up from the couch, resisting the urge to fan yourself with your hands. Embarrassingly, they both shake their heads and you catch sight of the thermostat set clearly to cool. Yoongi chuckles as he seems to look inside of your head at the neurons connecting as a flush of embarrassment crosses your face.

“I’ll be right back,” the words are barely out before you leave the room, slipping into the hallway and all but sprinting to the bathroom. Your body feels both too hot and too cold at the same time, and under the harsh overhead light of the bathroom the dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your baby hairs sticking up in wild directions from your scalp. You bend over the sink, gripping onto the cold porcelain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your words echo into the bowl of the sink but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about the potential of either of them hearing you over their music. You stand, glaring at the image of yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before you decide you have probably been hiding in here for a suspicious amount of time. Determined to find a way for them to let you go home, you barrel out of the bathroom and back into the hallway.

“Hi,” Yoongi’s voice startles you, and his presence in the cramped space is even more alarming. In all the time you've known him, he's never been one to completely abandon his post while in the thick of the production process.

“...Hi? Are you guys done?” A kernel of hope lights in your chest. If they’re done, you can make your escape to home and deal with the heavy pull of arousal in you core by yourself. Yoongi shakes his head no and raises his hands above him, stretching his arms and allowing your eyes to feast on a strip of creamy skin above his waistband. Your face reheats, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips. He looks divine.

Yoongi’s eyes follow your own, and a beautiful little smirk sprouts on his face. “Just came to use the bathroom.” His voice rumbles the same way it did when he dropped you off at your doorstep a few weeks ago with a sinful kiss and your knees quiver.

You nod stupidly, tripping over your own feet as you side step the door to allow him passage. He dips his head in a subtle nod and as he approaches and you can smell the musk of his cologne. Despite the step you took away he makes an effort to brush by you, one of his strong hands clasping gently around your own. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until he leaned in close enough that you could pick out his individual eyelashes. His thumb presses into the back of your hand, a firm reminder of the reality of the situation as his words slip into the air between you.

“We’re both willing to take a break, if you could think of something else more...interesting to occupy us.” His canines sparkle in the light of the hall and you have the overcoming desire to feel them scrape against your neck.

“B-both of you?” The question all but jumps from your mouth, a product of your disbelief of the last night they had made you feel this way, which you were still partly convinced was just a delusion of your drunkenness. Yoongi nods, strands of hair obscuring his heavy stare.

“Yes.” He’s gone in a flash, the bathroom door shutting behind him. The thud reverberates through your body and you stand stunned in the hallway, body buzzing with anticipation. Jimin is waiting just beyond the wall, and the image of his legs spread wide on the couch just waiting for you and Yoongi to return springs into your mind. Desire drives your feet and before you know it you’re back in the dimly lit studio, palms sweating when you finally see him again.

“You’re back.” His voice is cool and level, gaze fixed on you as you approached him. Suddenly emblazoned by the knowledge Yoongi had given you, you nod and edge closer to the couch.

“Heard you’re looking to take a break?” Jimin’s eyes cloud with the realization of your words, seeing through the facade of your question easily. He swipes his plush bottom lip with his thumb and hums in affirmation. “If you’re willing to provide one?” His voice is thick with lust, sending butterflies through your stomach.

The subtle tilt of his head is all it takes for you to advance toward him, plopping yourself easily onto his thigh, facing the mess of the coffee table. His hands are immediately on your hips; fingers digging into the flesh with an addicting pinch of pain. Your hips rut at the contact, pushing into the muscle of his leg. The pressure sends a spike of arousal down your spine that makes you moan and Jimin responds by curling his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips feel like ice against your hot skin, and he uses the shock to gain control of your hips.

There’s no use putting up a fight once he has you, manually rocking your core against his leg. Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his little pants of appreciation as your head rolls back against your shoulders. The fabric of your underwear is slick and pulling right against your clit, the layers of friction making you feel like you’re going crazy. Your nails dig into Jimin’s arms, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving.

The door swings open and even though you know it’s Yoongi you gasp, whipping your head toward him. Your face flushes at being caught but Yoongi simply appraises you, eyes roving over your heaving chest and Jimin’s grip on your hips. The weight of Yoongi’s stare only makes you wetter, slicking the crotch of your cotton shorts a darker shade. Jimin chuckles and moves faster, allowing a consistent grind of pressure against your clit that makes tears edge your eyelids.

You gasp, arms flailing outward hopelessly. In your scramble your arms clash into Yoongi’s form, scrabbling to hook into the fabric of his hoodie as your clit throbs and your climax approaches. Yoongi’s hands encircle your face, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and stooping down until you can feel his breath against your cheeks.

“Pretty girl,” he flutters his thumb against your lashes until you open your eyes. “There you are.” His feline gaze turns your brain to liquid, enjoying the attention from Yoongi while Jimin gives you the release you’ve been waiting for.

“P-please,” you struggle around the words, and don't have the energy to articulate your needs, but Jimin holds your hips still and bounces his leg, baring your pussy down against him directly. Unable to squirm away from the pleasure, a moan rips from your throat into Yoongi’s chest as you come, pitching forward as the pleasure curls your toes. Despite your exhaustion you continue to cant your hips against Jimin’s leg after you come until Yoongi tuts and pulls you up slightly, depriving you of the surface.

“Look at the fucking mess you made of my pants, baby.” Jimin growls. Your face flushes in embarrassment but you can’t deny that the sight only turns you on more. Knowing that you were the one responsible for the mess on his sweatpants and the subsequent bulge makes your mouth water. On unstable legs you pull from Yoongi’s embrace and lean down over Jimin, giving your other boss a prime view of your ass in the ridden-up shorts doing little to preserve your modesty. His hands are on you immediately, tugging down the fabric of your shorts and panties as soon as you nod your approval.

“Can I kiss you?” You relish the way Jimin’s cheeks sport a pretty blush at your question as he nods. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your chest as you connect your lips with his own, gently coaxing out the demon of a man you know lives inside- the one who pushed his cock down your throat in the backseat of his car the last time you went out together. Yoongi’s deft fingers part your folds and you moan into the kiss which only spurs Jimin on. His tongue finds a home in the depths of your mouth at the same time that Yoongi spreads your asscheeks with his hands, humming at the sight of your bared pussy. He pauses all movements, making you twirl your hips impatiently, before releasing a glob of spit that runs hot over your pussy. You shiver, keening at the embarrassingly attractive action. He wastes no time running his fingers between your lips, circling your clit with your combined wetness until your knees go weak. Jimin bites your lip and disconnects the two of you, staring sinfully at the trail of saliva that connects you.

“Yoongi gonna make you cum again?” The question is rhetoric, but you still nod furiously at the idea. Yoongi laughs heartily, clearly amused by the desperation.

“Gonna do more than make you cum, baby.” Your head swivels back to catch a look at him sinking onto his knees, easily pushing the coffee table back so he has ample room to work. Your pussy flutters at the idea of him eating you out, a dream that had been plaguing you since you first heard him craft some of his most infamous lyrics.

You're so enamored at the glassy look in his eyes that you almost miss Jimin asking to shed your sweatshirt. The fabric comes off easily, goosebumps arriving as the garment leaves you. Jimin groans as he’s presented with your tits, hanging perfectly in front of his face as you're bent over for Yoongi.

Jimin captures one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging at the nub like a man starved. Yoongi dives into your pussy, licking a broad stripe all the way through your folds. His tongue splits your lips and explores every possible inch.

“Oh god,” the sensation of them both working on you makes you feel lightheaded, in total disbelief of the way the night has gone. “F-feel so good.” You mewl as Yoongi licks tight circles around your clit, Jimin’s teeth scraping against the sensitive skin at the curve of your breast as his hand engulfs the other, pulling and pinching in all the right places.

“I- can’t fucking, oh my god-” no words seem to do justice to the feeling of pure arousal slipping through you, and the lewd sounds of being devoured sends your mind into a perfectly numb lull. Jimin and Yoongi are everything, everywhere, moving in a sinful tandem of lips and teeth that you don’t think you will ever recover from. The bubbling heat in your stomach rises, aided by the slurps of Yoongi absolutely devouring you, his nose digging into you as he pushes his tongue as deep as possible into your hole. You can only imagine how wet his face will be when he pulls away; chin, cheeks and lips stained with the evidence of your arousal.

Your legs wobble, knees shaking from the effort of keeping your body upright as your orgasm barrels toward you. Jimin scrapes the top row of his teeth across your nipple as you come, body trapped between two sources of unending pleasure. The short break between orgasms has made you dizzy, keening as Yoongi devours every drop you give him. Over sensitivity rushes in, and the men work faster than your blissed out brain can comprehend.

Once the ringing in your head stops, you can feel the delicate press of Yoongi’s lips against the backs of your thighs: Jimin’s cool fingertips soothing down the bites he created on your chest.

“Come on, pretty. Such a good girl. Come lay down.” Jimin’s hands pull you gently, easily back onto the couch where you had spent countless hours before. The cool leather feels amazing against your heated skin and you quickly resign yourself to pressing the entire front of your body into it, head propped on Jimin’s thigh. This close, there was no mistaking the heavy bulge in the front of his pants. Your fingers twitch, inching toward him.

Yoongi’s dark chuckle makes you pause, peering up to see him standing over you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Just as you’d imagined his chin is covered in a gleam that could only come from being buried deep in your pussy. Your hips twitch against the couch.

“You wanna suck Jimin’s cock? Will you let me sit and watch you make him come?” You nod dumbly against Jimin’s leg, not daring to take your eyes off of Yoongi as he maneuvers himself back into his trusty chair. He sits and makes no secret of palming at himself through his shorts as your mouth waters.

“Please?” You ask, as if they would ever be able to deny you anything. You can feel the sweat drying onto your body, and the heat reigniting in your stomach makes you restless. Wiggling your fingers playfully toward his cock, you fix Jimin with your best pleading stare.

“You know this cock belongs to you, baby. Take it.” Heat flushes your cheeks as you scramble for his waistband. Suddenly seized with an insatiable hunger to have your mouth filled to the brim. Jimin lifts his hips in aid, exposing inches of flawless skin before his cock springs to life, unbidden by any clothing. He takes the break to pull off his top, balling it up and throwing it directly into Yoongi’s face. The older man grumbles in good nature and swats the shirt away. Your hips push against the couch cushion as you reach for him, the weight and warmth of his impressive cock making your head spin. Jimin moans at your touch, encouraging you to pump your hand over him slowly.

He intakes a ragged breath as you speed up, impatient with yourself. “C’mon baby, take it.” He grinds out the words and you shiver, shuffling forward until you can comfortably lower your head over him, wrapping your lips around the tip. It had been only a few weeks since the last time you gave him head, but that didn’t make his length any easier to adjust to. Your eyes water at the intrusion as you push further down, wiggling your tongue against the underside. Jimin’s thighs twitch under your ministrations.

“You’re so fucking good at that, Y/N.”

Emboldened, you push more of him down your throat until you’re fighting against a gag, spit dripping down to the base of his cock. Unable to go further, your hand occupies the rest, pumping in time with the movement of your head. The mess of praise and the burn of Yoongi’s eyes on your body makes you moan around him.

Jimin’s hips immediately jump, pushing further into your mouth. Your eyes widen and tears push forward as Jimin takes full advantage of your mouth, your nails scrabbling at his thighs as you try to clear your mind.

“Shhh, baby. Look so pretty drooling and dumb on my cock. Our girl is so good, isn’t she Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice shakes, a giveaway of his impending orgasm.

“The best girl,” Yoongi’s voice is clipped, and even though your eyes are blurred with tears you’re sure he’s working his hand over his own cock. You moan again, using the vibration to your advantage as Jimin grips your hair, holding you in place.

Your lungs constrict as his whines reach a peak, cock twitching incessantly until he’s coming. You swallow with every spurt he gives you, the bitterness easy to dismiss in the heat of the moment. Jimin’s grip loosens just as the last ropes of his cum shoot out, streaking across your chin and lips. He grins, satisfied at the mess and your performance. His now free hand takes a handful of your ass, pinching it and landing a slap against the flesh.

“Open?” He asks almost sheepishly. You obey easily, putty in his hands as he inspects your mouth to be sure you swallowed everything he gave you. He hums happily at the sight, gathering up the stray bits of cum on your face with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You suck the pad of his thumb clean, eyes heavy with lust as you swirl your tongue around it. Jimin growls, ripping the appendage out to slap your ass a few times in quick succession.

The pain makes your spine curve with pleasure and you almost can’t believe how wet you are again, but Jimin’s fingers quickly dip into your pussy, cooing when he feels your slick coating his fingers. Your own mouth parts in a frustrated groan, annoyingly aware of how achingly empty you are.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice is raw and shaky, and you worry that maybe their inaction means they couldn’t hear you. Jimin’s hand stays steady against the swell of your ass while you wiggle your hips in frustration. Impatient tears well in your eyes as you watch Yoongi slowly remove his hand from his cock; the tip an angry red from all the time he spent playing with it while you sucked Jimin’s cock. It feels like years pass before he even gets up from the chair.

“You wanna get fucked?” His deep voice makes your heart do cartwheels in your stomach. Yoongi’s hand caresses the nape of your neck, lightly combing through the mussed strands there. You nod vigorously, attempting to sit up so that you can convey your need to him even more.

“Please Yoongi, please I’ll do-“ a sharp tug on your hair makes your brain short circuit, words dying in your mouth. Your breathing turns shallow, anticipatory when he uses his primal grip on you to pull your body upwards until you’re sitting up on the couch. From here you are afforded the full view of them both. Jimin’s chest is still heaving from coming, his body covered in a sheen of sweat that only makes his appear more surreal in the dim studio lights. Yoongi had shed both his shirt and bottoms, presumably while you were busy with Jimin. His cock bobs against his stomach, gleaming with precum as he moves. Your heart jumps at the proximity of Yoongi’s body, the way you can see the veins in the arm that holds your hair flex as he pulls your scalp harder. You keen, hips pushing against the air at the sprouting pain. Yoongi laughs, licking at his gleaming canines you want to feel buried deep in your shoulder blade.

His grip holds you still, obedient as your eyes dart wildly between them, hungry to see what their next move will be.

“Such a patient girl for us, right Yoongi?” Jimin’s velvet voice makes you want to cry out and beg for release again, but you bite your tongue so you don’t miss what he says.

“Hmm, very patient.” Yoongi appraises you, sitting at attention, nipples pebbled with your arousal. “Although I think she could stand to wait a bit longer.” Your eyes widen, surprised and momentarily terrified they were going to leave you in the dust.

“No no no no, please don’t!” You can’t stop the tinge of anxiety that spikes through you, the sudden concern that they no longer wanted you if they had each other. Not to mention the burning desire that you knew you wouldn’t be able to quell even with your most favorite vibrator. Hot tears let loose down your cheeks, dripping off of your chin in mere seconds.

“Hey, baby, stop,” Yoongi’s hand releases your hair to tap at your cheek, light enough that you blink through your tears to focus on him. He smiles in the sweet gentle way you’ve come to know means he’s sincere. You can feel Jimin’s calloused fingers brushing gently over your shoulders, curling into the tensed muscles as you ground yourself.

“Do we need to stop?” All of the air in the room gets sucked out with his words, all three of you frozen in time.

“No, no,” You puff out. “Don’t wanna stop.” You grasp his arm, fingernails digging into his milky flesh. “I j-just feel so empty.”

His cat like grin returns at your words, your tears receding into glossy begging eyes. “Oh, baby, you’ll be full of cock in no time. Can you sit pretty for just a few more moments?”

Curious as to why you need to wait, you watch Yoongi intently, but are somehow still shocked when he catches Jimin’s plush lips in an earnest kiss. The younger man sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s frame. The way their lips move together is mesmerizing, and you faintly remember watching them kiss once before, when you were admittedly drunk and thought maybe you were mistaking the passion between them.

Now you knew for sure what you were seeing, and that it was making fresh waves of arousal drip down your thigh. Jimin reaches for Yoongi’s cock, stroking him with playfully light touches you know are meant to drive him crazy. You can see everything from your seat on the couch, and their symphony of moans sends your hand right between your thighs. You rub your clit in time with Jimin’s tugs, making sure to keep the touch just as feather light as it seems to be for Yoongi.

As sensitive as you are, even the simple touch is making your mind go hazy, losing yourself in the moment and the feeling of your own hand. You moan, pressing down into the pressure of your hand: embarrassing close to coming again just from watching your bosses make out.

“I thought I asked you to sit pretty?” Yoongi’s voice is clipped and breathy at having just pulled Jimin’s hand off of him, but it still startles you enough that you rip your hand away feeling like you had been caught.

“I-I’m sorry, it was just,” you stumble on the words, face flushed as you decide on how much you should admit. Jimin raises an inquisitive eyebrow, his cock fluttering back to life.

“Hot?”

Your blush deepens but you nod, hair falling into your face. Yoongi seems less amused at your disobedience, but the dark look on his face only makes you want him inside of you more. You bite back the whimper growing in your throat and still, waiting for instruction.

Yoongi’s steps forward, easily crowding your vision until he’s all you can see. One hand grips your throat, lightly at first, then increasingly hard as he sees the delight in your eyes. The press of his hand over your throat is intoxicating, just the perfect amount of pressure that has your mouth hanging open absentmindedly. You feel good, knowing that you he was going to take care of you. Jimin’s deep groan at the sight reminds you that he’s there just moments before Yoongi breaks your distance and captures your lips in a kiss.

It’s nothing as gentle and sweet as the few you’d shared before. His teeth are immediately nipping into your bottom lip, tongue surging forward into your mouth without abandon. Spit slicks down your chin and over your cheeks and you moan at the feeling, Yoongi practically swallowing you up like you’re the last person on earth. Through it all he keeps control of you by the hand on your neck, only letting up when you’re gasping for air.

You feel oddly vacant without his hand on your throat, but you have a feeling it won’t be the end of your experience with it.

“Such a pretty, desperate little thing. Can’t wait to fill you up, fuck.” Yoongi’s eyes flutter at the thought and before you know it he’s moving you, pressing the length of your body down against the couch. You’re acutely aware that Jimin must have moved to the chair to make room for you, but all thoughts get wiped from your head as Yoongi looms over you.

Your legs part, unashamed for him to see just how wet you are. He grins, kneeling between them and fisting himself a few times.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi, wanna feel you inside.” The stream of consciousness barrels out of you, followed by a string of curses as he obeys and pushes the head of his cock into you. The stretch is intense despite your extreme arousal, but the loving hands caressing your stomach help morph the feeling into pure pleasure. When the clouds of pain start to clear you moan, high and loud, latching onto the cushions under you.

“You look so good split open on my cock.” Yoongi works his hips into a smooth rhythm immediately, eyes honed in on the sight of your pussy swallowing him up. The press of him inside of you is serendipitous, the perfect angle means he’s nudging against your gspot with every single push.

“Prettiest fucking girl, look at you taking cock so well again.” Jimin is suddenly beside you, hands groping your tits again. You keen, overwhelmed with the sensations as white hot pleasure burns through you. Yoongi speeds up, bracing his foot for more leverage on the perfect angle as he pounds into you.

“So f-full,” you gasp out, tears of pleasure running into your hairline. Your clit throbs for attention, the final thing you need to fall headfirst into that wonderful pleasure. You gasp and writhe, pushing your hips upward to meet his thrusts.

“If you don’t stop that I’m gonna come right inside of you.” The words are a warning but your pussy immediately reacts by gripping his cock tighter. A broken moan spills from his mouth and he growls.

“Wan’ it.” The words come out soft, strangled by the loud squelching of your pussy, but Jimin is close enough to hear. He turns toward you, smiling with the intensity of a million suns.

“You want him to come inside of you? Fill that pussy up and make you ours?” Jimin is sure to speak loud enough that Yoongi will hear, but the man drilling into you looks pointedly only at your face, awaiting his confirmation. You look between them both, shivering with need.

“Yes, wanna have Yoongi come in me,” you lick your lips, “please, and,” You pause as Yoongi swipes his finger across your clit after hearing your affirmation. The last bits of your sanity are about to be washed away with your orgasm, but you breathe through it.

“W-wait!” You yell, Yoongi stilling as well as he can so close to his orgasm.

“Want Jimin too.” You gasp, barely trusting your words. The man grins, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast.

“Of course, baby, I’m so fucking hard right now I can’t imagine not coming all over these pretty tits.”

Tears of frustration brim again, hormones going crazy.

“No, in me.” You whine, petulant at the idea of him not coming inside you tonight. Both of their eyes widen, staring at you like you had just unlocked the secret to eternal life. Yoongi’s thrusts return with vengeance, finger circling your clit deftly.

“Can’t get enough of it, huh? Such a little slut that just one man coming in you isn’t enough?” You nod as his cock twitches, moments away from your own blinding orgasm. Jimin’s lips are devouring your neck, seemingly emblazoned by your admission. It only takes a few more swipes of Yoongi’s nimble fingers before you come, back arching off of the couch like a woman possessed.

The sounds and curses that leave you are barely human and essentially decipherable as your body warms under the glow of an intense orgasm. When Yoongi finally comes, your pussy gripping him tightly so he doesn’t leave, he continues strumming at your clit until your nerves feel set on fire.

“Good girl, taking all my fucking come.” Yoongi praises you as he finally pulls out, watching his come slip out with him before he retreats to stand beside you. Your head is still in the clouds, mind numb from absolute pleasure as Yoongi pats your thighs so he can get out from between them.

Jimin brushes the sweat slicked strands of hair off of your forehead, leaning close enough to him that you can see his individual eyelashes.

“Still got it in you? Want another load?” Your stomach flips, pussy clenching at the idea and you nod so hard it makes your neck hurt. Yoongi shuffles up until he’s next to your head, obviously sleepy as he plops down onto the floor with a lazy grin. He kisses your cheek playfully as Jimin moves.

He wastes no time in assuming the same position Yoongi had just left. Pliant and fucked out, you give him an exhausted smile as you watch him line up and push into your entrance.

“Still so fucking tight even though you just got railed. So willing to have two cocks back to back.” Jimin’s voice burns through you, low and sexy in a way you rarely get to enjoy. His eyes twinkle as you nod, gasping at the length of his cock. He begins his onslaught even faster than Yoongi had, pushing through your walls with a blindingly perfect rhythm.

“F-Fuck me so well,” you slur, grasping for his arms as he drills into you. Jimin is gasping, clearly close to his own end as you start to feel the hazy warmth of an orgasm come on. Yoongi kisses you even more as your moans heighten, sure not to cover your mouth so that they get to hear every sound you can give them. “You’re gonna look so pretty full of me and Jimin’s come, so fucked out and dripping.”

Even without any attention to your clit his words have you just seconds away from coming, and you warn Jimin of this.

“Already gonna come without me even having to touch your little clit? So fucking wet and desperate that just my cock will do it?” Your head spins, eyes tipping back into your head. His hips stutter, faltering for just a second as your knees lock, pushing his cock even further into you until you’re coming. Your eyes squeeze shut as you scream your throat raw calling his name and begging for his come.

You can’t stop the tears that spill out of you even after you feel him empty into you, the weight of his body pressing into your own as he makes sure not to waste a drop. You pant together, chests rising and falling in time. The way your skin sticks together doesn’t even bother you right now, but Jimin moves just slightly and the cool air rushes in.

You mumble, still working on feeling like a human again.

“What’s that?” It’s Yoongi, who’s still sitting by your side, laying his head against Jimin’s toned bicep.

“Cold.” You try, voice absolutely wrecked. You poke at Jimin’s side. “Heavy, too. Move.” You wiggle beneath him and he sits up, giggling at your sudden attitude. He’s still lodged inside of you, his and Yoongi’s come slowly leaking out of you and onto the couch, but this somehow feels just as normal as your usual day at work. Another chill passes through your body and Yoongi tuts, striding order to the thermometer. You and Jimin both watch his naked form as he goes, cranking the number up so that the room gets hotter.

“Told you we keep it too cold in here,” he mutters to Jimin, who shrugs and looks down at the mess between your legs. You flush.

“Sorry about the couch.” Jimin laughs as he pulls out, clearly still a little aroused at the sight of come pouring out of you.

“Fuck the couch. It’s your spot anyway.” His fingers dance over your pussy and you whine, shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

“Too sensitive.” It’s simple, and he nods easily, slipping off of the couch. You lose sight of him for a second before he’s back, slipping your sweatshirt back over your head. The warmth instantly cures you, putting a satisfied smile on your face. Yoongi reappears from what you assume to be the bathroom with a damp towel, silently asking your permission before gently cleaning you up.

Your legs twitch and you have to physically bite back a moan when he runs the fabric over your clit, but you’re happy to be cleaned and have him help you into your shorts. He hands the towel off to Jimin as you sit up, pointedly looking away from the mess on the couch.

“Shit, forgot about that!” Yoongi springs forward, shirt halfway on. He leans over the coffee table and flicks off a switch, the recording equipment going dead. His face blanches as he looks over at you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t turn it off before we…” his hands wave uselessly in front of him. Jimin, at least dressed, looks equally mortified.

“We can delete it all! I promise, we won’t even listen to it again! I’ll do it right-“

Your laugh bubbles out of you and stops them both in their places.

“I don’t care, guys.” Their faces twist in confusion. Surely you wouldn’t want them to keep it? “You were stuck on the song anyway. Use it as the backtrack or something.” You shrug, taking supreme delight in the surprise on their faces.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Jimin groans, appreciative, and you glow under their eyes. He immediately dashes over to the computer, locating and examining the file. Yoongi finishes redressing and even wipes off the couch before bundling you into his chair with him. His hands comb through your matted hair and examine the marks on your neck until he deems you to be okay.

“Thanks for the song inspiration.” He chuckles, mouth tucked against the nape of your neck.

“Happy to help. Let me know the next time you need some new ideas.” Despite your sleepiness the idea makes you squirm, to which Yoongi groans.

“I have a feeling we’ll be needing lots of new ideas. For a very long time.” Maybe you’re crazy, or cock hungry, but you swear you feel him twitch against your ass. “But for now you should probably go home.” You both watch Jimin as he fiddles with some instrumentals, layering them over the peaky audio the three of you recorded on the desktop before popping on his headphones.

Yoongi sighs. “You’re sleepy, and if you stay here any longer while we mix this you’re definitely not gonna be walking tomorrow.”

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