Me, Myself, And SUGA Wholly Or Whole Me Preview Image 2

Me, Myself, and SUGA ‘Wholly or Whole me’ Preview image 2

Like OBVIOUSLY…come on.

"I'm your babe?"

First i just want to say - i’m loving the new visuals for each chapter. With that out of the way..i’m so scared dude 💀 I have this feeling that everything is just going to explode, no one is safe, hell on earth, storms a brewin…you get it. HOWEVER, the possibility of the reader brat taming a nipple pierced jk may distract me from the impending doom. Am I catching on? 😉 whichever way it pans out, here i am, addicted and desperate for any little crumbs of this story..

Collateral 🗡️ 13: Merely offering to share what is mine

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

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🗡️ Yoongi x Reader x Namjoon 🗡️ word count: 10.9k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, minor character death, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+  🗡️ chapter warnings: gun range, description of handling and firing a gun, referring to someone's penis as "pathetic" and "little", use of the word "whore", the terror twins are really something, drinking and driving, complicated feelings, mention of noona kink, jk has nipple piercings, masturbation with a vibrator. 🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin! 🗡️ posted on feb. 2023 | read on ao3

If you slept a wink at all, you have no idea. By the time you concede to the light of the morning sun pouring into the bedroom, you feel exhausted and anxious, unsure of how to face the day ahead of you. 

As you open your eyes, squinting from the intrusion of the light that shines through the wide-open blinds, you notice Yoongi's side of the bed is empty. There is no sound coming from the en suite, and when you turn, Namjoon's side is also barren. 

You almost miss the light shining from the closet until you hear what sounds like it may be a muttered curse word in a deep drawl that could only come from Yoongi. Although you awaken with nervous energy, having Yoongi nearby settles you some, and you stretch your arms wide, knocking your knuckles against the wall as you let a nice, heavy yawn work its way through you.

"Darling?" Yoongi calls from the closet. "Are you awake?"

He appears wearing only black slacks, with a black garment hanging in his grasp, and you nearly ask him to pump the brakes on finishing getting dressed to join you under the comforter. You happen to only be wearing one of Namjoon's gigantic shirts, with nothing underneath. 

But Yoongi says, "We have to leave for the range in about an hour," dashing all your hopes.

The sigh you let out is audible, and Yoongi cocks his head playfully to the side, giving you a look that a parent might give their child for being overly dramatic. But you firmly believe that being in the same room with the terror twins and live firearms is cause for dramatics, and you lift your eyebrows, challenging him. 

Petulance aside, you want to bury your face against Yoongi’s skin, and you open your arms wide, wiggling your fingertips to beckon him close. Yoongi pulls his shirt on—a plain black tee that hugs his taut muscular frame tightly, making him look absolutely delicious—then he makes his way toward the bed as he delicately shoves the ends of the shirt into the waistline of his unbuttoned slacks. 

"The range will be fun," Yoongi says, making you scoff and roll your eyes. 

"Yeah, I bet it will be a blast."

You sit up fully and scoot toward the edge, staying partially under the warm comforter as you snake your feet out the end and stretch to wrap your shins around Yoongi's thighs. He chuckles and allows himself to be tugged forward and gently drapes his arms over your shoulders. 

You whine, "I just don't see why they have to join us."

"Because they are the ideal pair to join us,” Yoongi responds calmly. “Taehyung has an absolutely perfect shot and is a great teacher. His handling of the weapon is second to none, myself included. And Jeongguk is still learning, but he is getting there. He tends to be a little shaky at first but quickly finds his target. Depending on how well you do today, learning from someone like Jeongguk could be beneficial to both of you. And, perhaps my ulterior motive is that I would like for you to get to know both of them a little better."

With a hum, you bury your face into Yoongi's neck, inhaling his sweet, familiar, autumn morning scent, and you groan. 

"Jeongguk has never once said a nice thing to me and you want him to teach me how to fire a gun."

When Yoongi says nothing, you sit up straight and look him in the eye, saying, "A gun, Yoongi."

This makes him chuckle, and he pulls you close, which you concede to, dropping your face back to his soft skin. 

"I know. I still remember when I told you that the two of you would likely never be friends. But the more I watch you acclimate to the environment here, the more I wonder if you two would be able to figure it all out. You have similar...upbringings...if you can call it that—" this makes you scoff, "—and the two of you have experienced many of the same things."

"But he's a mean little baby," you whine, sounding like a baby, yourself.

"He is," Yoongi says as he plants a kiss against your temple. "But he is my mean little baby. And so are you. And I want the two of you to get along."

"This got weird," you grumble, pulling away and attempting to sit back. There is a smile on your face, but the thought of Yoongi referring to both Jeongguk and yourself as his little babies, even as a joke, gives you the ick.

“I need real friends,” you complain playfully. “And a life outside this mansion. You and your family men are driving me insane”

“Ah, I was going to talk to you about this,” Yoongi says. “I got you a new cell phone, and I want you to use it to update social media profiles so that you appear alive to the outside world.”

“I have a phone already,” you grumble. 

Yoongi hums. “And where is it, darling?”

Truth be told, you have no idea where it is. It could be in your bedroom, and it could be in the nightstand right beside you, for all you know. Everyone you have wanted to speak to for months have been under this roof. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi urges, and you shrug. “Plus, this one is on my plan, it is paid for in full, and it is new. I have also taken the liberty of stocking it full of photographs from various vacations and I have dated the folders. Upload them periodically according to the dates provided, and throw in a selca from time to time.”

This feels like work, and you have grown quite accustomed to not having to bother with anything of the sort, making you pout as you ask, “But why?”

With a sigh, Yoongi slides his arms down, around your ribs, and rubs his palms over the expanse of your back. 

“Because, darling, you will soon be a public figure. People are starting to notice you on my arm, and if this engagement is to be believed, then we need to appear together.”

Ah, yes. The engagement. If your stomach were not already a swirling pit of anxiety, it would become one at the reminder of that little arrangement. 

"All of this coming from the man who removed the social media apps from my last phone," you grumble

Yoongi nibbles on his lip. "A cautionary step at the time."

"Because you kidnapped me."

Yoongi sighs; clearly this is still a sore spot—as it should be. Still, you do not wish to chide him for too long, now that you are making yourself comfortable in his home at your own pace, you want him to believe that you are settling in, so you swerve the topic ever so slightly. 

“Are you telling me mafia bosses and their families have Instagram accounts?”

“Yes,” Yoongi responds with a chuckle, quickly lightening up. “You should see Namjoon’s feed. It is full of books and art. It’s very cute.”

“Alright, fine,” you concede with a playful smile. “I will keep up appearances if only to be Namjoon’s friend online, because that does sound very cute.”

As if being summoned, like the handsome demon he is, the bedroom doors open, and you twist to find Namjoon entering with a small wooden tray containing carafes of water and orange juice, and six empty glasses. Yoongi removes himself from your embrace and helps Namjoon with the tray, pulling legs from its underside so it can stand on the bed. Behind Namjoon, the chef enters with a larger tray, which is covered, and they unfold legs from that and set it on the bed, as well.

"I was planning to bring you breakfast in bed," Namjoon says with a dimpled smile, "but I see you are already awake."

"Awe," you croon as you swift around beneath the comforter, feeling affection burst and bloom in your ribcage, "the thought still counts. And I still have not technically left the bed."

Namjoon smiles shyly as he climbs onto the bed to situate the large tray in the center and the beverages beside it. You scoot carefully, doing your best not to uncover your legs as you move closer to the trays. When the chef lifts the covering from the breakfast, you find three plates of eggs benedict with asparagus and small servings of potatoes. The smell brings back the memory of Seokjin and Hoseok finding you yesterday morning to make a terrible proposal, and you wonder why. 

"I have been craving this since Seokjin mentioned it yesterday morning," Namjoon says, passing out utensils wrapped in cloth napkins, sending a chill over you. You want to ask whether Seokjin had come into the house to eat before he spoke to you, and what he and Namjoon happened to talk about before that, but you are still on the fence about discussing that matter with Yoongi.

Instead, you shove the end of your napkin into the neck of your borrowed shirt and fan it over your chest before digging in. The sauce is a perfect balance of a classic Hollandaise with something added to it to make it slightly more tart, and everything is cooked to perfection. 

The three of you eat in silence, save for hums of approval for the food. When Namjoon slides a glass of orange juice before you, you briefly consider how the addition of champagne would certainly help to calm your nerves. But then you remember that you are going to be handling a firearm, and decide that it is probably for the best that you do not drink alcohol.

"Are you joining us today, Namjoon?" you ask as you untuck the napkin and gently place it over your mostly empty plate. 

"I will not be," Namjoon responds with a hint of a frown, and you frown in response. "I have some business to take care of. But perhaps I will join you next time."

"She will be just fine with the three of us," Yoongi insists, looking at you despite responding to Namjoon. 

Namjoon's eyes flit from Yoongi to you as he says, "I have no doubt that she will be."

You wish you believed in their conviction. 

You are unsure if you still have pants or leggings in your possession, being that you have only worn dresses, bathing suits, and borrowed clothing from the men since moving into the mansion. It takes a little digging on the side of your closet that holds all of your casual clothing, but, sure enough, you find a pair of black skinny jeans and a similar pair in grey. You could have sworn you owned a lot more than this prior to moving, but decide to leave the matter be; you can always have Namjoon buy you more. 

At first, you hesitate to dress the same as the men, in all black, but as you hold the two garments up and rub your thumbs over the material, you find that the black pants are stretchier and a bit softer, so you opt for those. You drape the grey pair over the island before sliding your legs into the black, then push around hangers of shirts before landing on a black turtleneck that Namjoon suggested you wear. He warned you about the hot bullet shells flying from the gun and possibly hitting your skin, and recommended that you do not wear anything with even a hint of cleavage. You have taken his warning to heart. 

Once dressed, you pull your hair back tightly, grab a pair of black boots, and head out into the mezzanine to find Yoongi scrolling on his phone. When he glances up and his lips tug into a soft smile, you feel butterflies take flight in your tummy. It is infuriating how quickly he melts your heart, especially knowing what kind of world he runs. 

With the prospect of learning to shoot looming over your head, you worry about becoming more introduced to his lifestyle and seeing the darker side of things. Sure, you have lived in unsavory environments in the past, but can you handle it again? Will his soft smile, deep voice, and promises of love be enough? 

"Looking like one of the team, darling," Yoongi says as he turns to you, sending a chill along your spine.

You hum in response and return a nervous, plastered smile. Of course, Yoongi picks up on your hesitancy and smiles fondly, holding open his arms to you. You step into his space and allow yourself to be swallowed by a hug, wrapping one arm around his ribs while you hold your boots in your other hand. Downstairs, the front door opens.

"They must be here," Yoongi mutters against your head. "Are you ready, darling?"

With a quiet sigh, you nod your head and hug Yoongi a little tighter before letting him go. Taehyung waltzes into view at the bottom of the stairs, standing impeccably straight with his chin up and his hands slid into the front pockets of his slacks, dressed in all black. 

"Ready when you are, hyung," he says, then he turns on the balls of his socked feet and walks back toward the main hall. 

"Shall we?" Yoongi asks, dropping his arms from around you and taking one of your hands. 

Before you can respond, he escorts you down the stairs. With each step, your heart pounds a little harder—dizzying and persistent—and you do your best to steady your breathing. As long as Jeongguk can act somewhat civilized toward you, everything should be fine. But that feels like a tall order. In fact, you wonder if Jeongguk will be extra antagonizing with the additional thrill of you having a gun in your hand.

By the time you reach the main floor, Taehyung is halfway out the front door. Yoongi leads you through the main hall, past the empty couch, and to the entrance. You slide on the pair of black boots and leave them loosely tied, then wait for Yoongi to finish tying his black boots before joining him outside. Taehyung has a black sedan running, and Jeongguk is in the front passenger seat with his elbow crooked out the window. 

You round the vehicle and sit behind Taehyung while Yoongi takes the seat behind Jeongguk, and off you go. It surprises you that there is no range at the mansion and you wonder if someone had mentioned one being there, or if it was something you had just imagined; it seems like the sort of thing they would want to have full access to and reign over. 

Taehyung drives toward the city, staying on the outskirts near the warehouses that Namjoon had taken you to not too long ago. The memory of that place—of the men, of the weapons, of the stench of blood and piss, of the echoing crack of bone under metal—makes your stomach churn and you pull your gaze from outside to your hands fidgeting in your lap. 

“Ready to learn how to run with the big dogs, buttercup?”

You almost do not register his voice, having sat in comfortable silence for so long, but when it clicks, you glance up to find Jeongguk has his head turned, half facing you, though his gaze remains fixed ahead. Taehyung meets your eye in the rearview mirror, and you return to watching out your window.

“Can’t wait,” you grumble, hating the idea of building a rapport of any kind with these men. 

“You’re sure you can handle it?” Jeongguk continues, egging you on. 

With a sigh, you roll your eyes and focus them on Jeongguk, who has partially turned around and is now watching you with an incredulous glare. 

“Is this necessary?” you snap, tired of his childishness. “Can we just not bicker for once?”

With a shrug, Jeongguk turns ahead. “Just asking a question.”

Obviously, Jeongguk was not just asking a question. The tone paired with the condescending nickname was clearly intentional. But you do not feel like challenging him. You just need to get through the next hour or two. 

Luckily, it is not long until Taehyung is pulling up to a large, unassuming brick building. He parks on the curb and exits the vehicle. As you get out, you join Taehyung on the sidewalk and wait for Yoongi and Jeongguk to round the sedan and join you. Although you have been doing your best to ignore Jeongguk, you meet his eye briefly and watch him check you out. The movement of his eyes falling down the expanse of your body and rising back up has warmth filling your cheeks, and you tear your eyes away, turning to the glass door of the building, which Taehyung has opened and is entering. 

Yoongi catches up quickly to hold the door open after Taehyung and Jeongguk walk through, and you attempt to slow your steps just enough to not be too close to Jeongguk, which is hard when the two men before you come to an abrupt stop in front of a counter. An older man reading a newspaper stands once he notices he has customers, then realizes who Taehyung and Jeongguk are and sits again. 

With a nod of his chin, the man says, "Second floor is all yours, fellas," and goes back to what he was doing. 

Taehyung bows his head and walks halfway through the space before hanging a right and exiting through a doorway. The store is full of various firearms, firearm accessories, and ammunition, and you glance around as you make your way through, feeling scratchy, worn carpet beneath your boots and picking up a bit of a musky smell. Not at all pleasant.

The doorway opens into a cement stairwell. Taehyung and Jeongguk take the lead heading up the stairs, and you follow behind. The sounds of footfalls tapping with each step clomp loudly, and as you reach the top of the landing, your heart begins to pound heavily behind your ribs. 

You are surprised by the room you walk into. A large, open lounge area greets you. The walls have yellow wallpaper that is not too bright to be gaudy but not too dull to be unnoticeable. The carpeting is a dark green, and throughout the lounge are lighter, teal-green leather chairs that give the room a strange but inviting feel. To the left are televisions, which are currently off, and to the right is a large, mahogany bar top, which sits in front of a wall stacked with booze. 

Taehyung and Jeongguk walk toward the bar and round the corner, and you hesitate to join them until Yoongi places a hand on the small of your back and holds his other hand out toward the bar as an invitation. The thought of drinking before shooting a gun does not fare well with you, and you shake your head. 

"I would rather not."

Jeongguk walks to the far side of the bar, producing two small glasses, and Taehyung leans in close, towering over him as he reaches for a bottle on the highest shelf. Jeongguk cowers under Taehyung's presence—seems to shrink himself and go stiff—which shocks you; suddenly, you are fascinated to know more about their dynamic.

As soon as Taehyung has the unmarked bottle of caramel-colored liquid in hand and backs away to set it on the bar, Jeongguk seems to relax, letting out a breath and straightening his posture. You do not watch the rest of the scene, turning as Yoongi gently presses you in the direction of a door at the far end of the lounge, which you walk toward. The sounds of glasses clinking together and muffled voices muttering softly flit into your ears but you do your best to ignore them and focus only ahead. 

The door opens into what you would expect from a shooting range. The dimly lit, mostly black space has a narrow area for shooters to occupy, with a long wooden counter that extends through the entire width of the place, divided by panes of glass, creating small booths for each person to stand at. On each booth is a pair of plastic safety goggles and a set of noise-muffling headphones.

Yoongi approaches the second booth and sets a small black duffle bag onto the counter. Then he grabs a target—a large grey sheet of paper with a somewhat life-size silhouette of a person's head and torso, making this experience feel all the more morbid—and he reaches up to clip the target onto a hanger above the booth. Then he uses a button to cause the target to move along a track, into a long, wide open space that makes up most of the range, for you to shoot. You join Yoongi in the booth and put the glasses on over your eyes, then slide the headphones over your ears.

"You have handled a gun before, I assume?" Yoongi asks as he unzips his bag and pulls out a black handgun. 

"I have," you respond, voice coming out shakier than you hoped. 

Yoongi grabs out a magazine full of bullets and shoves it into the handle of the gun, clicking it into place, then he opens his palms flat, presenting you with the weapon, and you hesitate before reaching with both hands to lift it. The weight of smaller weapons always surprises you at first, and you grip onto the handle tightly and point it away from both Yoongi and yourself as you instinctively turn your body forward, toward the target. 

"Shall I go over safety rules?" He asks softly, and you nod your head and clear your throat, eyes unfocused on a spot of darkness before you. 

"Always keep the weapon pointed away from yourself and other people. A downward angle is nice—" Yoongi steps behind you and gently engulfs your hands in both of his, pointing the weapon slightly downward, "—but in here, having it pointed into the range, toward the floor is wiser." Yoongi lifts your arms, aiming the weapon past the booth, into the shooting space. 

"You also want to keep the safety on at all times, until you plan to shoot. Do you know what that is, darling?"

"The button on the side," you mutter, blinking heavily to make the dark scene before you come into clearer detail. Yoongi clicks the safety off, filling you with adrenaline. 

"That is correct. And when you are ready to shoot, you put one hand onto the top of the gun and slide it back—" Yoongi guides one of your hands to the slide and pulls it, clicking it into place, "—and then you draw in a deep breath as you line up the sight—" Yoongi lifts your arms, pointing the gun toward the target, which you continue to steady until you have it aimed at the head, "—and as you slowly let your breath out, pull the trigger."

You take a breath and line up the sight with your left eye closed. The warmth of Yoongi's hands holding yours helps to calm some of your trepidation, and when his familiar scent enters your nose, you allow it to ease you into a slow exhale, followed by the press of your finger on the trigger. 

The kickback surprises you, despite having fired a gun before, and you barely let your arms rest as you look at the target and find the hole just above the silhouette's head, to the right.

"Not bad at all, darling," Yoongi praises, releasing your hands and rubbing his palms up and down your arms and wrists. 

You line up the shot once more and inhale deep, then pull the trigger on your exhale. This time, the hole is closer to the center of the target, just above its head.

"Excellent," Yoongi says, "once more."

Again, and again, and again, you line up the shot, inhale, and shoot—each time, coming closer to your desired target. Yoongi's hands remain lightly on your arms, but as you focus on the task, the touch fades to nothing more than a calming reminder of safety. When you pull the trigger to the sound of a hollow click, your breath hitches.

Slowly, you lower the gun, still pointing it toward the floor of the range, and Yoongi's hands return to yours. Your final two bullets managed to land dead in the center of the target's forehead, one slightly to the left of the other.

"Now, you are going to press this," Yoongi pushes your thumb down, grazing it over a small, rough square near the handle of the gun, "to release the clip."

The sound of the range door opening and deep male voices filling the space catch you off guard, and you are not ready for the magazine to fall out, despite pressing the release button. Yoongi quickly catches it with one hand while you watch it slide from the handle with a gasp, and he sets it aside on the counter, then pulls a new one from his duffle bag, placing it into your palm.

Although you do not turn to look at the men who crowd your space, you see Taehyung's tan arm come into view as he brings the target back to the booth and pulls it down from its clip. You are unsure why, but you find yourself holding your breath as he assesses your work, only letting it out quickly when he leaves your space for one of the booths beside you, muttering, "Not bad, buttercup."

When you turn to Yoongi, still gripping the gun in one hand, pointing out into the empty range, and the magazine in the other, he is studying your target with a smile. He turns, takes a few steps to a small table against the back wall, and places it down carefully. Then, he returns with a new target and hangs it above your head. 

"Guide the magazine into the handle with your palm and give it a firm press to click it into place," Yoongi says as he sends your target out, to about the same distance that the first one was. 

You do as Yoongi instructs, checking to make sure the bullets are facing the correct direction and sliding the clip into the handle. With a bit of force, you press the heel of your hand against it until it clicks. Yoongi takes your hand which holds the gun and angles it to check, then he rubs his hand up and down your arm and hums. 

"You did great the first time. Let's see some more headshots."

This time, Yoongi does not hold onto your arms as you shoot, and you take a little longer lifting the gun to line it up. You also feel a wave of trepidation settle over you knowing that the others are able to see you perform. They have both sent targets out into the range, but neither has begun to fire, and you worry that their eyes are on you. 

The first press of the trigger startles you, and you find yourself rocking back on your heels from the kickback. The weight is familiar, but without Yoongi's warm, firm body keeping you in place, you feel knocked off your axis. Without worrying about where that bullet landed, you line up your next shot and fire again, this time more prepared. And again, and again, until you begin to notice that the holes you are making are very close to where you want them to be.

One of the men to your right finally shoots, and the sound makes you jump. They do not, however, pause between shots, and soon the chorus of gunshot bursts settles over you and becomes comfortable. You empty your clip, release it from the handle, grab a fresh one from Yoongi, click it into place, and continue to fire at the same target. 

With each press of the trigger, a flit of silver shoots to the left, hits the glass divider and falls to your feet at the same time a new hole appears in the paper target. It feels insignificant yet powerful—an explosion of energy cradled tightly in your hands. You want to bottle up this feeling, and yet, you also hope to never have to use this training out in the streets.

After the third and fourth magazines are spent, your arms are tired, and you switch on the safety lock and set the gun on the counter. Your hands feel a little stiff, and you stretch your fingers out and ball them into fists until they begin to feel a little looser. Yoongi brings in your target, the other men set their guns down, and everyone crowds your space once more. 

On the target, most of the bullet holes are concentrated in the same area of the forehead, with the exception of a few along the top edge of its head, and one that is pretty close to the top, off to the right. Jeongguk, of course, points out only the stray hole. 

"What is this?" he asks, shoving a finger into it.

"That is a bullet hole," you respond flatly, not in the mood to argue.

"But why is it so—"

You cut Jeongguk off, twisting on the balls of your feet to face him while pulling your headphones down from your ears to rest around your neck as you say, "Don't you have your own technique to improve upon?"

Jeongguk scoffs with a squint and keeps his gaze on you for a few more seconds before returning to his booth. The gun he has is much larger, and when he shoots, the bullets rain out much faster. It is also disorientingly loud, and you quickly move your headphones back over your ears. 

"Why don't we watch the two of them shoot?" Yoongi suggests, and although you would rather eat hot bullet casings than watch Jeongguk do anything, you nod and mutter, "Sure."

Yoongi walks first to Jeongguk's booth to the right of Taehyung, and watches as he finishes emptying a clip on a target. He has managed to draw a nearly perfect straight line from the center of the target's head down to the bottom, where its naval might be. A few bullets near the top are a little to the right, but for the most part, they are pretty consistently centered.

"Jeongguk is always a little too hasty with the first shot or three, but he recovers quickly and stays very calm."

"Hasty might not be the right word," Taehyung drawls from your left, and you turn to find him meeting your gaze with a brow raised before looking at Jeongguk. "I think eager is more like it."

As Jeongguk brings his target back in and sets up another, you and Yoongi move to stand behind Taehyung. Although Taehyung also has a somewhat larger gun with a larger clip, he only holds it in one hand, arm extended, with his body angled slightly to the side. First, he shoots a hole on the left of the target's face, then one on the right, creating two eyes. And then, he starts a little below the left eye hole and shoots a smile across its face that curves down and up, just below the right eye hole. The sight gives you chills, and you find yourself instinctively taking a step back, away from him. 

"Taehyung is perfect as ever," Yoongi praises, placing a hand on Taehyung's shoulder for a soft pat before guiding you with a hand on the small of your back to your booth. 

You wonder how Taehyung learned to be such a good shot, but you also consider that the answer might scare you. Only an unhinged person would make such a display. Still, his aim is impressive.

Jeongguk empties another magazine into the target, then reels it in and pulls it from the hanger. You watch a soft smile tug on his lips as he studies his work, and for just a moment, he actually appears sweet—daresay a bit pretty. But then he turns to you, holds the target so that you can see it through the clear dividers, and snarls. 

"This is how you empty a clip. You want to get every bullet into the head. Not above it."

Yoongi sighs and mutters a frustrated, "Jeongguk," but you speak up before he can say anything more.

"Why are you berating me on my first day at the range? How am I supposed to find that helpful?"

Jeongguk shrugs and steps out of his booth to set his target onto the table along the back wall, behind your booth. 

He is too close for comfort as he says, "All I'm saying is, if you had been asked to use a gun to kill Seungri, you probably never would have succeeded."

With a huff of exasperation, you pull your headphones down from your ears and take a step into his space, tilting your head as you quietly ask, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I'm just saying—"

You snarl and shape your fingers into a makeshift gun, poking roughly into Jeongguk's chest. 

"If I had been tasked to shoot him with a gun, I still would have easily gotten him because I was close enough to have his pathetic little cock buried inside me." 

Jeongguk's eyes widen before they become two sharp little daggers, and he takes a step forward, pressing your fingers harder into his chest and standing nearly close enough to bump his toes against yours. To your left, Taehyung continues to shoot.

"Do you have a problem with me?" you snap. "Because I don't know if you realize this, but I didn't ask to fucking be here, okay. So maybe cut me some slack and stop being such an asshole."

All Jeongguk does in response is chuckle, then takes a step back and returns to his booth with a new target. You drop your head back and stare at the black ceiling, willing yourself to evaporate into thin air or collapse like a dying star. Of course, you have no such luck, and continue to bask in the frustration of having to remain in your corporeal form.

"You two bicker like children," Taehyung complains, tearing your gaze from the ceiling, back to him while he lifts his gun to release a spent magazine and set it aside. As he clicks a new one into place, he turns to you, lifting an eyebrow. "You two should fuck already and get it over with."

Anger and bile rise, and you feel yourself begin to shake. Jeongguk averts his eyes, first ripping his gaze from you to glare at the back of Taehyung's head, then he spins on the balls of his feet and faces ahead, staring out into the empty shooting range. All is so silent, you could hear a pin drop.

"What the fuck did you just say?" you ask through grit teeth, absolutely seething as your glare at Taehyung becomes increasingly pointed. 

Yoongi's hand grazes you, rubbing from your shoulder blades down to the small of your back, and you tense beneath the touch. You expect him to say something to Taehyung—anything to defend your honor.

What you are not expecting Yoongi to say is, "Perhaps he is right."

Taehyung snickers, then turns back to his target, lifts his hand, and begins to shoot. The sound of bullets bursting from the gun is so loud—so unwelcoming and abrupt and disorienting. You turn sharply to Yoongi, neglecting to put your headphones back on despite how terrible the sound is, and you shove at his chest with both hands before you can stop yourself. 

Although Yoongi is visibly surprised by your action, widening his mouth and eyes, he hardly moves, so when you take a step forward to push him again, you step on his toes, and he grabs onto your wrists, stopping your outburst in its motion. 

"Darling," Yoongi mutters, just in time for Taehyung's magazine to empty.

"What the fuck, Yoongi?

Yoongi has the audacity to fucking chuckle, sending every nerve on edge as you attempt to shove him again despite both hands being restrained in his hold. 

"All I'm saying is, it might help. He does have a noona kink; the two of you might have some fun."

"Is this all I am to you?" you challenge, yanking your hands from his hold and balling your fists at your sides. You are not willing to dignify the specifics of his statement with a response. "Am I just a whore to pass around to your men? Is that it?"

With a roll of his eyes, Yoongi shakes his head. 

"You know it is not like that, darling."

"Don't fucking darling me."

Yoongi's mouth opens, but all he can manage is a smile. You are absolutely indignant, and he is merely amused.

"Fuck this," you mutter as you shove past Yoongi.

He makes a feeble attempt to grab your hand, and you swat him away, then you rip the headphones away from your neck and the glasses from your face, and throw them to the table along the back wall in a clatter. As soon as you throw the door to the lounge open, the brightness of the room hits you unpleasantly, paired with a musky scent of furniture and carpeting, and you ignore the onslaught of sensory overload and storm over to the bar. 

The door to the range opens and closes, and you hear footprints softly approach from behind you. Expecting Yoongi, you ball your fists again and think of everything you want to say to him—every way you can think to tell him to fuck off. But Taehyung is the one who passes you by and rounds the bar.

"What'll it be, buttercup?"

You stop in your tracks, surprised to find it is he who has joined you. But you want a drink after putting up with all of these assholes, so you will yourself forward the last couple of feet, then you place your palms down on the bar. 

"I don't care," you respond, feeling anger and sadness begin to overwhelm and build in your chest and throat. "Something strong."

Taehyung regards you, glancing from your face down to your hands, then he hums and spins. 

"What?" you snap.

He turns his head to the side as if to say something to you, then returns to his task of finding a bottle, twinkling his fingers in front of rows of glass before reaching up to a scotch on the top shelf with a green and gold label. 

"This is a good one," Taehyung responds, spinning to place the bottle down. 

You stand and wait, staring at the bottle and watching as the details fade and lose focus. The sounds of empty glasses being set down pulls your gaze, and you lift your head and watch Taehyung's hands pour the two of you a drink.

"You are quite touchy," Taehyung finally says, softly. "Is it so insulting to insinuate you and Jeongguk would have chemistry if you stopped clawing at one another's throats?"

"I'm not just a plaything to pass around," you respond with a wobbly voice, feeling a strange but persistent urge to cry. 

"I never insinuated as such."

"You—"

"You're already fucking both Yoongi and Namjoon," Taehyung says nonchalantly. "What's one more?"

With a deep sigh, you meet Taehyung's eyes. He is stern and earnest, showing not a single hint of sarcasm or playfulness. 

"We're—" you struggle, unable to define what the three of you are actually doing; it has never had a label. 

"Hmm?" Taehyung asks, resting his elbows against the bar, studying you. 

"We're not just fucking. There's...something more."

For every second that passes under Taehyung's sharp, dark gaze, you find yourself becoming increasingly antsy. You glance down at the glasses of scotch and back up, hoping that he will break whatever thought he is having to finally pass you one of the drinks. But he stares silently a bit longer before a small smile creeps over his lips. 

"So? Are you only capable of fucking people for whom you have feelings?"

"What?" you ask, thrown off by his question, "Well, no, but—"

"I suppose it is a common thing for some, and I do not mean any offense. I just wonder if it is possible to fuck for love and for lust, and not worry one way or another about having varying degrees of care and intention for each person you invite into your bed. Surely your feelings are different from those you have for Yoongi, for example?"

You straighten out and clear your throat, letting your eyes fall to the bar top—away from Taehyung's prying gaze. 

Your voice comes out small as you ask, "Why are we talking about this?"

The door to the range opens, and you turn your head enough to notice two bodies clad in black exit and begin their approach. Taehyung busies himself with grabbing two more empty glasses. 

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" he has the audacity to ask, and you turn to watch as he pours scotch into one glass, and then the other. "I was merely offering to share what is mine."

"What—" you begin to ask, but a hand on the small of your back makes you gasp, and you turn to find Yoongi smiling softly as he wraps his arm around you. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Yoongi mutters with a kiss to your temple. "The maknae and I had a little chat."

You hum in response noncommittally, watching as Jeongguk rounds the bar and Taehyung lifts his arms to mutter something into Jeongguk's ear, gently caressing one of his shoulders as he speaks. Jeongguk appears tense but lets his eyelids fall closed as he listens, and you wonder once more if they are an item. Is Taehyung offering Jeongguk to you—offering what is his?

The possessiveness in the language he uses to describe Jeongguk is not all that shocking, based on what little you know about them, but it makes the offer itself a little surprising. And you wonder if every one of the family men are involved with one another. You wonder if Jimin, too, has been tangled with one or more of these men at some point. It might explain their bond, although what happens if there is jealousy? What kind of a rift could something like that cause?

"Earth to buttercup," Taehyung calls, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You blink heavily, realize you had been staring at Taehyung's hand on Jeongguk's shoulder, and clear your throat. 

"Sorry."

Taehyung slides a glass toward you, and the three men pick theirs up. 

"To unexpected happenchance," Taehyung says, and you glance up to find his gaze once more piercing through you. 

You lift your glass and tap it against Yoongi's and Taehyung's, then hover it in the air while those two pull away, giving you and Jeongguk room to meet in the middle. There is something soft but indiscernible in Jeongguk's gaze, and you hold it just enough to tap your drink against his, then turn to look away as you bring the cool, glass rim to your lips and allow the malty, semi-sweet scotch to warm you. 

There is a palpable tension in the air that you wish you could squash as you slowly drink back the contents of your glass. You half expect one of the three men present to say something that will further put you on edge, and you stare ahead at the shelves of liquor for something you may want to distract yourself with. However, Yoongi picks up conversation about something unrelated, entirely. 

"Seokjin tells me Kang is planning on switching sides. Jeongguk, has he mentioned this to you?"

"Our Busan contact?" Jeongguk asks with raised eyebrows. "He did not."

Yoongi hums. "Hyunjin overheard talks of Ryujin buying him out. He is planning to fuck with the next shipment of pills, so I want to make sure the cargo is rerouted, and that we take him out."

"And Hyunjin?" Taehyung asks with a curious lilt. 

"Hyunjin will need to come home. He was one of a handful of men who were informed of this deal, which puts a target on his back. Seokjin is working with him to get his wife and daughter set up in either Australia or America, for the time being."

"And we will no longer have an inside man," Jeongguk grumbles.

Yoongi hums. "Unfortunately."

"Hyunjin?" you ask. 

You think that, perhaps once in the past, his name has come up, but you cannot place who he is or whether you have met him.

"Hyunjin is one of our men who went to live with Ryujin several years ago," Yoongi explains. "He feeds us tips and insider information when he can, although lately, a lot has been happening between our families that he has not been made aware of in time."

"He works on Shin's drug running team, so most of his information is drug-related, anyway," Jeongguk interjects. "And apparently he has been let in on the fact that our connect in Busan, who receives shipments from nearby countries, has been bought by Shin to intercept some of our product. And now, because of this, we are going to have to pull him from their team and get him and his family out of Korea."

You nod, staring down into the remnants of your scotch before drinking it back. Despite being accustomed to the flavor, it is strong, and each sip hits you with a tiny, dizzying wave. 

"Makes sense," you mutter into the empty glass.

Fingers pry the glass from your grip, and you are surprised to find it is Jeongguk who sets it onto the counter and begins to pour you another drink. Yoongi slowly draws circles into the small of your back with his fingertips, and you allow intoxication to gradually build and overcome you. 

"I will call a meeting and we can discuss next steps," Yoongi continues. "We have plenty of time to intercept the boat. Perhaps we strike a deal with the Songs in the south."

"I have been in conversation with Mingi, and he is receptive to the idea," Jeongguk says as he slides your glass back with several fingers of deep brown scotch. "Ever since our run in with Shin at Serendipity, I have been slowly working on pulling out of Busan, anyway."

"Thank you," you mutter softly for the refilled drink as you raise the glass between both hands.

"And Kang?" Taehyung asks as he lifts his glass to Jeongguk, who obliges and pours him more. 

"Would you like to take care of him, Taehyungah?" Yoongi asks.

You glance up just as Taehyung lifts an eyebrow and grins widely. 

"I would love to."

The ride back to the mansion is quiet. Everyone is drunk, including the driver, and you are too tired to care. You sit with your head slumped against the backrest of the seat, with your eyes closed against the late afternoon sun, while Yoongi hums a soft, quiet tune, and the two up front say nothing. 

After the explosive nature of your visit at the range, it almost feels a bit unsettling for the four of you to be in near silence, and you find yourself almost wanting to say or do something to cause enough of a scene that there will be chaos once more. That, or you are just uncomfortable being left alone with your thoughts. 

Curse Taehyung for even putting the thought in your mind. Curse Yoongi for cracking a joke about Jeongguk having a noona kink. Does this mean he would be pliant in your hands? Willing to bend to your will and do as you please? Jeongguk is attractive—an insane balance of pretty and handsome with sharp and soft features. Especially his lips. You hate the thought of those pretty, soft lips parting as he gasps and moans. Why did these men have to infect your brain with something so enticing?

"We're home," Yoongi mutters as he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, snapping you from your thoughts. You have been spacing out a lot lately, and your cheeks warm with embarrassment to be caught in another wave of imagination and wonder. 

You unclick your seatbelt and sit up with a groan, feeling a heaviness in your limbs that has settled deep during the ride back. All three of the men exit, and Taehyung is the one to open your door and offer you a hand. Reluctantly, you place your palm in his and allow him to gently tug you out into the world. 

"I was very impressed with your performance at the range today, buttercup."

"Th-thank you, Taehyung," you mutter, dropping your hand from his grasp and absentmindedly rubbing your palms down your torso, against your shirt. 

"I was hoping the four of us could reconvene in the pool?" Taehyung suggests. "If you have nothing better to do, today?"

What on earth could you possibly have to do today? You literally have no life. 

"That sounds fine," you respond sheepishly, turning to Yoongi, who has far too mischievous of a grin. 

"Namjoon will join us," Yoongi announces, which just barely sets your nerves at ease. "Let's get dressed and meet everyone there?" 

With a nod, you turn and allow yourself to be led to the front door with a warm palm against the small of your back. Namjoon must have heard you return, and he opens the door just as you approach. With a smile, he glances at the two of you, then to the two who approach from behind. 

"I trust that one of you has shorts that might fit us?" Taehyung calls, and Namjoon chuckles. 

"Mine may be too big, and Yoon's may be too small, but I'll see what I can find."

Taehyung hums, sounding too close to you for comfort as he says, "Gguk might look cute in one of buttercup's little floral suits, don't you think?"

Warmth rises quickly to your cheeks, and you widen your eyes at Namjoon, who steps aside, allowing you to enter the mansion and quickly remove your boots. 

"Exploring humiliation kink, Ggukah?" you hear Namjoon ask as you run through the main hall, to the steps. This is not a conversation that you are eager to participate in. 

Although you are exhausted and a bit disoriented from the heat of the mid-day and all of the booze in your blood, you sprint to the top floor and throw your bedroom door open, only stopping to catch your breath with the door sealed tightly shut behind you. Whatever has gotten into these men, it feels like it will only bring you more trouble, and you need to sort out your thoughts before you allow yourself to get too carried away. You need to devise a list of pros and cons to fucking your kind-of-boyfriend's youngest friend.

Jeongguk is handsome, has a great body, and has a noona kink. These are all items you would sort into pros. He is also an asshole who has never had one nice thing to say to you, and he tends to single you out a lot for the purpose of his own amusement. These are all items you would sort into cons. Except...maybe these traits would be fun to tame. Maybe punishing Jeongguk and making him cower to you is exactly what you want. 

With a heavy sigh, you shake your head, eager to clear away these thoughts. You approach your walk-in closet and hear the sounds of several male voices coming up the stairs, you assume to change in Yoongi's room. Although you are not sure you want to entertain their silly suggestion, you pick out the retro suit with the frilly yellow top and floral bottom because you like the way each piece hugs your curves. And, rather than sliding into a sundress, you opt to simply wrap a towel around your hips and join the men like that. If they can dangle inappropriate suggestions in front of you as if it is nothing, then you can dangle yourself a little, too. 

Rather than wait for the rest of the men to join, you leave your room and begin down the steps. Although Yoongi's bedroom door is wide open and inviting, you are not eager to find what may be waiting in that large walk-in closet of his. Are the four of them naked? Is this something they have done a lot over the years?

When you get outside, the first thing you notice is soft r&b playing over the speakers. The second thing you notice is that there is no bartender, but there are several bottles of champagne sitting in a row of buckets on the countertop, packed with ice. You roll your eyes and pad over to the other side of the pool, where there are sun beds under slotted wood awnings, giving hints of shade.

Namjoon is the first to join you, swerving to the bar to pick up a bucket and two glasses. The look on his face is nothing but trouble—wide eyes and a wider smile—and you hold firm, unimpressed eye contact as you lay back in one of the beds and cross your arms over your chest. 

Namjoon sits on your chair, forcing you to move your outstretched leg, and you sit up and pluck one of the empty champagne flutes from his fingers, and steady the bucket on the bed beside your thigh.

"What?" you ask, raising your eyebrows in a challenge. 

Namjoon shrugs. 

"Can't I be happy to see you, sweetheart?"

"Is that why you set such a sexy mood and sent the staff home? Because you are happy to see me?"

The cork pops from the bottle of champagne, and Namjoon chuckles, muttering, "Precisely," as he begins to pour you a glass. 

"I don't need more booze," you grumble petulantly, pulling the glass to your lips. "I need food."

Just then, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jeongguk exit the mansion, all wearing the smallest black swim shorts you could possibly imagine—undoubtedly from Yoongi's collection. Why, oh why must all of Yoongi's family men have ripped abs and perfectly muscular thighs? Why must they all be drop-dead gorgeous and absolutely unhinged?

"Well," Namjoon says, incapable of biting back a smile as he waves his hand toward the men, saying, "feast your eyes on this spread!"

With a smack to his arm, you huff and mutter, "I fucking hate you," then you gulp back the entire fizzy, bittersweet contents of your glass. 

"You do not," Namjoon pouts, sending your heart into a frenzy, and you roll your eyes and reach for the bottle of champagne, yanking it from his grip. 

"I do not," you respond, unable to keep a small smile from creeping over your lips. "But whatever the four of you are up to, you had better stop."

"Why?" Namjoon asks, leaning a bit too close. "Afraid of having a little fun?"

All you can do is stare into those big, warm, brown eyes and attempt to hold your composure as the others join the two of you. Each man has brought with him a bucket of champagne and a glass flute, and you fear for your sanity, imagining the five of you consuming all four bottles. The moment Jeongguk and Taehyung sit across from you, you feel emboldened enough by the alcohol to open your mouth. 

"Whatever it is that you guys are thinking, the answer is no."

Taehyung places his bucket onto the ground between his feet and lifts the bottle out, popping the cork off to the side, and regarding you with a lift of a brow. 

"My, how could you possibly imagine what I might be thinking, buttercup?"

You swallow a lump as you pull your legs closer to hug them against your torso, and watch as Yoongi drapes himself over Namjoon's lap. There are too many strong, nearly naked men in your midst, and it is doing nothing for your mental well-being. Not to mention, Jeongguk has his nipples pierced—because of course he fucking does—and it is taking every ounce of your willpower not to look.

"Well, whatever it is that goes on up there," you say, lifting the hand that clutches onto your glass and pointing a finger out to Taehyung's head, "I do not trust it."

"A wise choice," Taehyung responds with a grin as he begins to fill a champagne flute and pass it to Jeongguk.

"As if I would want to, anyway," Jeongguk responds, and you look to find him glaring at you. 

And you hate to admit that there is a part of you that wants to argue with him—to assure him that he could be so lucky to fuck you—but it is an irrational, unnecessary urge that you push down as best as you can. 

Instead, all you say is, "Good."

"So you all had fun at the range?" Namjoon asks sweetly while you and Jeongguk continue to glare at one another. 

You nod and sit back against the bed, which is tilted just enough to recline you some, but not lay you back completely. 

"Our darling did a great job," Yoongi responds sweetly, "and Jeongguk's form has been improving significantly."

"And I am perfect as always," Taehyung helpfully supplies, making you scoff despite how correct he is. 

Around you, conversation returns to the Kang man who they are planning to intercept and do...something with. You assume the goal is to kill him—possibly torture him for more information about what Ryujin might be planning. The sounds of the water sloshing against the walls of the pool and birds chirping from surrounding trees are enough to keep your focus off of what they are discussing too clearly. Frankly, you are not interested in hearing them plan an execution; this day has brought you enough stress. 

You lift your flute only to find that it is empty and decide to remove yourself from the situation. The day is warm, the alcohol is making you restless, and you want to swim. Rather than walk between the men, you swing your legs out to the opposite side of the bed and avoid Yoongi's attempt at grasping you, slipping away from the beds and approaching the nearest diving board. You climb the three short steps and walk briskly to the end of it, then lift your arms over your head and dive forward, breaking the surface of the perfectly warm water with your hands and closing your eyes just in time to fully submerge. 

It would be so nice to just stay beneath the surface—weightless and without a care in the world as the sun shimmers against the water, which appears to be a comforting teal thanks both to reflected sunshine, and the blue tiles that cover the floor and walls of the pool. Sadly, your body follows its natural buoyant trajectory and returns to the open air and bright, warm sun. The weather really is perfect for a swim. 

A glance in the direction of the men shows Namjoon and Taehyung leaning forward, discussing something, while Yoongi and Jeongguk both have their eyes on you. Anxiety breaks your skin into goosebumps, and you hold your breath and return to the water, shutting everything else out as you attempt to gather your thoughts. 

Your thoughts, however, are just a never-ending cycle of, "What the fuck is happening, what the fuck is happening, what the fuck—" which is the absolute opposite of helpful.

Because, as Yoongi mentioned, you and Jeongguk do have a lot in common. Would it really hurt to get to know him better? The way he was looking at you just a moment ago is at odds with the way he speaks to you; is his attitude simply a defense mechanism?

When you return to the surface, all four men watch you. Yoongi cracks a smile, and there is something unreadable in Taehyung's and Jeongguk's expressions. Namjoon stands, lifting Yoongi with him, then deposits the older onto the bed and approaches the edge of the pool, diving in with his body angled to you. You stand in place and watch his form approach, then decide to take a step back too late when he suddenly seems too close, only for him to wrap his arms around your legs and pull you under. 

With a surprised yelp, you are drug underwater, and when you open your eyes, it is to find beautiful, sweet Namjoon smiling back, with his dark hair fanned out around his head, and bubbles pouring from his nose and mouth. He releases you from his grasp, and you push with your feet back to the surface, then playfully smack his tattooed chest as soon as he comes up for air. 

Namjoon wraps you in his arms so fast, all you can do is allow your limbs to wrap around him. He is warm and comforting, and you nuzzle against his neck and allow him to carry you toward the deeper water, in the direction of the diving boards.

"I have you all to myself, and you're wet," Namjoon teases, "my favorite."

"Hmm, is that so? You prefer me alone?"

Namjoon seems surprised to be caught in his confession and clears his throat before eagerly correcting himself. 

"Perhaps I don't prefer it, but it is nice from time to time."

"Ah, but we are not truly alone, are we?" you ask, glancing toward the men on the beds. 

To your surprise, Yoongi is sitting on the edge of the pool, sinking his feet into the water before lowering himself all the way in, and the other two are difficult to clearly see. In fact, from his angle, it appears that Taehyung may be hovering over Jeongguk on the bed—a sight that you avert your eyes from. 

Yoongi wades out quickly in measured, wide strokes of his arms and legs, looking absolutely devastating with water dripping from his dark hair. 

"The two of them need a little alone time," Yoongi says as he approaches, and although you are not eager to hear more, he tells you anyway. "All this talk about sharing got our maknae riled up."

"Well there should be no talk of sharing," you insist as Yoongi gets closer, wrapping his arms around you and Namjoon and hooking his chin over one of your outstretched arms. 

"Are you sure, darling?" 

"For one thing, he hates me," you respond.

Yoongi shrugs and says, "It's a front," and you feel at a loss for words. 

"Jeongguk is just a brat," Namjoon unhelpfully supplies, painting so many pictures of taming him in your mind. 

The sound of a distant slap of skin against skin, followed by a pitchy whimper echoes over the expanse of the pool, and you instantly feel antsy and begin to attempt to uncling from Namjoon's body. That sound had to have come from Jeongguk's lips, and it was far too enticing for you to listen for more.

"I have heard too much," you grumble when Namjoon continues to hold you tight, and you wiggle around, attempting to slip from his surprisingly firm grasp, considering you are both submerged in water.

"Taehyung is just putting him in his place a little," Yoongi says sweetly, rubbing a palm over the small of your back. "He is being punished for how he spoke to you earlier. The two of them will join us soon."

You continue to thrash, however, and Namjoon finally gives up his fight and releases you, causing you to sink all the way underwater before pushing the floor with your toes and returning for air. You swim backward, away from the two of them, who watch with amused smiles.

"You four have fun," you say, resolved to remove yourself from the situation before anything foolish happens. "I need to go...uh...shower...or something." 

As you reach the steps of the pool, you realize your towel is back at the beds with the guys, and you glance around the space, relieved to find a bin near the doors that has a stack of folded towels inside. You scurry over quickly and grab one, rub it over your legs and feet to quickly dry them, and wrap it around your body before making your way into the mansion, up the stairs, and into your room. 

Behind your locked bedroom door, you grab one of the small, waterproof vibrators that lives in a bin under your bed, and you make your way to the shower. And although you attempt to convince yourself that you are not this affected by the sound of Jeongguk's whimper, nor the sight of all four of those men in tiny little briefs as you peel away your bathing suit and stand under the warm stream of water with the buzzing toy pressed firmly against your clit, you know that there is absolutely no way of shutting out the myriad of thoughts that have overcome you. The thought of Jeongguk whimpering while calling you noona might just be the death of you, yet. 

note: hello, friends! how do you like the new graphics? while in a bout of writer's block, i have been working on mood boards for each chapter. i still have a few to post, but hopefully they will all be done soon! so? possible jungkook a reader?? what do you think??? 😈

 as always, please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators! and likes are also appreciated.

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