Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,168

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

CHAPTER 35:  House of Cards

“As time passes by We only mess it up even more.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

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Amaryllis: The Future || JHS

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: Everything always comes full circle. A soul falls into the ether, hoping to be reborn in the next cycle. If a desire is strong enough, it can manifest across space and time. Two souls reunite and are given a second chance, hoping that their love will be rekindled even stronger than it was before.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: soulmate!au | reincarnation!au | angst | romance | drama

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Female OC (Erica Bronwyn/Bayaraa Ehri)

Warnings: Mild language, angst, identity crisis, fluff, mentions of religion and mental health

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 9.0K

AN: Y'all. I just can't with this story. Part of me is glad it's over. Part of me is upset I didn't expound on this more. But they say that every writer should know when to let a story finish. So with this second part, this tragic story now has a happy ending. Thank you everyone who was patient with me and adored my work. It means so much to me.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Present Day Gwacheon – Gyeonggi Province South Korea

Hoseok stared at the paperwork in front of his desk. Every so often, he would blink at it before shifting to the next page. He had so many questions, but the main one sat at the forefront of his mind. He turned another page, this time with photographs showcasing various pieces of art by a specific artist; the artist in question whose portfolio was sent to him earlier that week. 

“What do you think?” asked Namjoon.

Lifting his eyes to meet Namjoon’s, Hoseok raised a single brow. “I just have one question.”

He watched as Namjoon leaned back in the plush leather chair. “What?”

“Why me?” Hoseok returned his gaze back to the photos. “Why us?”

He heard Namjoon sigh as he readjusted himself in his seat. “Honestly, I don’t know.” 

This pulled at Hoseok’s curiosity. Namjoon was the Archivist and assistant Director to the art gallery they owned while Hoseok served as both the Curator and Director. In all the years they’d been opened, they never came across a situation like this. Their gallery wasn’t a well-known venue for art exhibitions. In fact, it ranged on the small side. Not many people knew about them and they focused on Indie Art and lesser-known artists to be able to give them a chance to be recognized and gain some viewership from the public.

But as Hoseok looked at the works in the photographs by this particular artist, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

“Erica Bronwyn,” he murmured, but loud enough so Namjoon could hear, “a young, up and coming glass and metalworks artist who has gained much popularity in Italy, France, and England. Every gallery that has showcased her work has garnered a lot of success and positive response. Her stylistic focus on ancient Asian culture is a keypoint in all of her artwork, always adding a specific floral motif for each of her collections.”

“Too much?” Namjoon brushed some of his hair out of his eyes. 

Hoseok shook his head as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I just don’t get it, Namjoon-ah.” Again, he met his friend’s gaze. “Why us? Compared to the other galleries in South Korea, we’re nobodies.”

Namjoon barked with laughter as he raised his brows slightly. “I know, right?”

Unlike his best friend, Hoseok didn’t find this funny in the slightest. As he looked back at the portfolio, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was trying to pull a fast one on him. Had he missed the memo where he signed up to be part of a prank cam show? He wouldn’t put it past Namjoon, but with Winter winding down and yielding into Spring, Hoseok wasn’t in the mood to play any kind of games.

He didn’t know why, but this time of year alwaysleft him feeling especially melancholy.

One of the assistants at the gallery, Jisoo, came into their office with a tray of tea. They thanked her and she quickly excused herself, stating that she was going to do her rounds before closing up. After she left, Hoseok curled his fingers around his chin, his brows furrowed in thought. He just didn’t understand any of it.

“And no other galleries made any offers?” He reached for his teacup. “We don’t have much in terms of money. I mean, we are able to comfortably get by but I would think other curators would be dying to get their claws into any exhibition she would bring to the table.”

Namjoon swallowed a bit of tea while humming. “Oh no,” he said, setting the cup down on the saucer, “there were offers. Really nice ones, in fact. I talked to a few of the other archivists and directors from the more well-known ones in Seoul. Her agent turned them all down on her behalf.”

“But why, is what I’m getting at.” He could hear the exasperation in his own voice. “Why us, Namjoon? I don’t get it.”

“Y’know, Hoseok-ah, I don’t know.” Namjoon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small business card. “But her agent did say that if you had any questions to contact Miss Bronwyn directly.” Hoseok took the card from Namjoon and studied the labeling on it which had a copy of her elegant signature on it. “Her cell number is on the back.”

Hoseok stared at the number on the back. He wasn’t sure why there was a sense of reticence swelling inside of his chest as he stared at the handwritten phone number. It looked like every other scribble in a long list of scribbles he’d looked at. But as his eyes lifted to peer back at Erica’s portfolio, an ache sat in the center of his lungs and made it difficult to breathe. His vision blurred momentarily and it wasn’t until he felt Namjoon’s hand on his shoulder that he realized what happened.

He was crying.

Reincarnation was a strange subject matter. Many religions spoke of the phenomenon differently. Not all of them were wrong, but not all of them were right either. If Erica had to pinpoint which faith got it right, it would discount them all. So she simply chose to believe what was the correct one from her interpretation.

In this life, her name was Eric Bronwyn. It was the name that her parents gave her when she was brought into this world. She believed that her name was Erica Bronwyn. 

But at the age of seven, a different truth came to light. Suddenly, she was flooded with memories of a life that she didn’t recognize. People spoke to her in a language Erica didn’t understand and the faces of those people were warm and affectionate. Over the years, she studied and tried to piece together the meaning behind all of these occurrences. Studying foreign languages and focusing on the scenes that flashed in her mind’s eye.

At thirteen, Erica realized who the people were. 

Her parents. Her sisters. Her family.

And a name. Her old name. 

Ehri.

Honing her talent for arts and crafts, Erica began breathing life into the images. She painted portraits of her parents, her sisters, and the close friends that she had in that world; in that life. Erica’s mother asked her where she was painting from; the portraits of the individuals of a completely different ethnic background and culture than her own. Part of her wanted to tell her parents in this life what it meant, but Erica also didn’t want to concern them over the minor details. 

Year by year, Erica lived two lives. One was her everyday life in the current time period and the other cycled parallel to the present. Every step she took, she could see both her path and the path of Bayaraa Ehri simultaneously. When Erica walked through a busy city street and concrete sidewalks, she could also see the grassy hills and mountain krags in tandem. When it rained outside at night, Erica also saw a colorful twilight sky free from a torrential downpour.

Every single day and every single moment, Erica and Ehri existed at the same time.

For a while, Erica believed that something was mentally wrong with her. Was she deranged? Did she need medical attention for this? How would she even begin explaining the cycle of reason without sounding ludicrous herself?

On her 22nd birthday, everything came to a head.

Erica just graduated and was starting out in the world. She knew she wanted to be an artist. But she couldn’t determine which medium suited her the most. Skilled in oil painting, sculpting and watercolor, she decided to visit a few art museums and galleries across Europe. While in Italy, she saw a small gallery that happened to be open on that particular day. Upon entering, only one other patron was visiting at the same time she was.

She couldn’t see him from the back and he was staring at a large oil painting of a spider lily. It was the gallery’s main showcase and Erica felt herself drawn to the piece more than the person looking at it. The two of them stood a few feet apart from each other, eyes locked onto the painting; unable to avert their gazes for even a second.

And then the young man finally spoke.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

A sharp pain struck Erica’s chest at that moment. Clutching at the front of her shirt, she turned to look at him. His face looked so familiar and everything in her mind seemed to rush forward all at once. When he asked if she was alright, a different face overlapped the man’s. Before she realized it, Erica burst into tears as her heart flooded with a turbulent storm of emotions. 

The man she remembered was Hoseok. The man she met that day was Benjamin Reinhart.

Benjamin stayed with her for years and he was the first person Erica told her secret to. But he didn’t react the way she feared others would. He was calm and understanding. And then he was determined to help her find the man that her soul remembered. 

In another year, Ehri and Erica were truly one and the same person. All of Ehri’s memories were now Erica’s, nestled safely beside the ones she made in her current life cycle. It was a terrifying transition, at least at first. Erica feared that the person she was would be erased by Ehri's own memories. They were powerful, passionate, and something to admire. But Erica went through her own struggles in her life. She didn’t want those memories to be destroyed.

When it became clear that Erica wouldn’t disappear, relief washed over her. She could access Ehri’s memories at will, wanting to know more about her past and the man who encompassed all of Ehri’s heart. 

It took Erica three years to find the one called “Hoseok”. Using a good chunk of her money and resources from showcasing her work throughout Europe, Benjamin’s search bore fruit. When he came back with several pictures, she was able to point out the one from Ehri’s memories. 

There was a part of her that hesitated, however. Mostly because her physical appearance didn’t match Ehri’s. Couldn’t that have been the case with Hoseok? What if the person in the picture wasn’t the Hoseok from Ehri’s memories? 

The problem called for more research. Erica threw herself into studying the various forms of reincarnation and which cases were similar to her own. There weren’t many and while most of them were informative on the person experiencing the soul rebirth, it didn’t speak much on those who may have been reborn but had no memories of their old lives. Many texts referred to it as “drinking from the Spring of Forgetfulness”. 

There was a passage, however, that gave Erica some hope. As stated in folklore, anyone who was set for reincarnation and drank from the Spring of Forgetfulness, would retain the form they had in their previous life to make themselves recognizable to those who did not drink from the spring. If Ehri’s memories were inside of Erica, then that meant Ehri hadn’t drank from the Spring of Forgetfulness. 

The caveat? Her physical appearance changed.

Everything else would be left to chance.

Cradling the coffee mug between her fingers, Erica could hardly contain her excitement. Elation mixed with anxiety created a stormy cocktail of conflicting emotions within her. Jung Hoseok, curator of one of the smaller art galleries in the Gwacheon area, finally agreed to meet with her. She honestly wondered if he would bother giving her the time of day, even with her popularity in Europe with her works. Any art director would be suspicious since her agent made it clear that she would not want her pieces showcased anywhere in South Korea. If he didn’t accept her offer, then she wouldn’t be displaying her work in any art gallery in the country.

Her PR agents were curious why she was so hellbent on making sure her pieces were showcased at Hoseok’s gallery. Erica didn’t have a definitive answer. Just that it had to be his. The reasoning wasn’t as important as the need for them to be placed there. Her agent, Benjamin, didn’t question her further. He knew how eccentric Erica could be and as a woman of color in the metal works medium of art, it was a constant uphill battle for her. Pressing her on minor details would be pointless.

Besides, who would take her reasons seriously?

It wasn’t like she could tell just anyone that she wanted to see the man who was her soulmate.

When the small bell chimed as the door opened, Erica felt her heart slam into her chest. As she looked up, she could see Hoseok slowly enter the cafè. She held her hand up to him, waving to get his attention, and he spotted her fairly quickly. He smiled back, waving and quickly crossed the small space to reach her. 

“Hi,” she said while standing, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Hoseok reached out to grasp her hand, shaking it politely. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”

Erica smirked, shaking her head as they sat down. “Not at all. I wasn’t sure if you would accept my offer in the first place.”

A waitress came by, offered Hoseok a glass of water, and then he placed his order: an iced Americano. He met Erica’s gaze as he brushed some of his fringe from his brows. “Well, you didn’t make it easy for me.”

“What do you mean?” Erica canted her head slightly. “Was I asking for too much?”

“I wouldn’t call it asking for too much as I would asking for not much at all.”

She was genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite understand…”

For a moment, neither of them said another word. The waitress brought out Hoseok’s drink and he took a generous sip before clearing his throat. Again, he lifted his gaze to meet hers and there was a heavy ache that seemed to hollow out the lower portion of her stomach. Ehri’s feelings were on the brink of overwhelming her and Erica had to clench her trousers to keep herself from spiraling into an emotional outburst.

“It’s been bugging me. You’re such a well-known, up and coming artist. Why are you so adamant about showcasing your work at my galleria?”

Erica bit back a sigh of relief, feeling the need for an outburst starting to melt away. “You really take the time to focus on lesser-known works of art, as well as artists. And you take pride in making sure that the best representation is given to those artists.” She pressed her fingers along the sides of her cup. “Anyone can see how much you care. It isn’t about making a profit for you.”

It was only a half truth. Erica couldn’t bring herself to dump everything that slowly filled up inside of her over the years. Not only was it not fair, it was illogical. No one wanted baggage dumped unnecessarily into their laps unexpectedly. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she watched as Hoseok seemed to openly gauge her response, as well as her reactions. He took another sip of his coffee and Erica fidgeted with her nails along the surface of her coffee mug. The sound of ice clinking together kept her tethered as she waited for him to say something; anything.

“Alright,” he said finally, reaching across the table to offer his hand, “then I guess we’re partners for the time being.”

Unable to mask her joy, Erica grasped his hand with both of hers and shook it. She flashed an open-mouthed smile when she saw the surprise on Hoseok’s face. It quickly melted into amusement, but Erica didn’t mind if he thought she was silly. This was just the first step. A first of many.

After they finished shaking hands, Hoseok pulled out his phone. “I’ll have the assistant director forward the paperwork to your agent.” She waited for him to send the message and then he politely set his phone on the table. “So, can you tell me what the theme of your showcase will be this time?”

This was the moment that would help determine the way the course of events would unfold. This very moment. Erica knew it and so did Ehri. She had to choose her words wisely. She had to make this count for all that she could hope for.

She lifted her cup to her lips, took a generous sip of coffee, and set the cup back down on the saucer. Her eyes lingered on Hoseok’s for a few more seconds before speaking, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

Lycoris radiata.

Bulg-eun Geomi Baeghab.

Manjusaka.

Higanbana.

Amaryllis.

They were all names referencing the red spider lily.

Hoseok found it a little strange that Erica wanted to showcase an Autumn Equinox flower in the middle of Spring. Even stranger, this was a flower that often was used to symbolize death. When he thought back to her portfolio, none of her pieces were quite as somber in tone as the red spider lily. In fact, in the language of flowers, Erica seemed to use positive terms in each of her collections. Nothing as melancholy or tragic as the spider lily.

When he thought back to the conversation he had with her a week ago, Hoseok couldn’t quite shake the feeling of nostalgia that blanketed over him. She spoke of the spider lily’s legend in a way that almost made one think she believed such a tale. He’d heard the story a long time ago - a story his great grandmother once imparted to him. But it was just a story about star-crossed lovers. There was nothing exciting or happy about it, so he quickly pushed it from his mind.

Hearing Erica’s version, however, left him feeling unsettled. Was it the sincerity in her voice or was it something else? He wanted to know why his heart felt such a heavy weight of sadness when he thought of her face as she spoke of the flower’s legend.

Her pieces were set to be displayed at the end of May. That would give her just over three weeks to complete her showcase. When he asked why Erica chose to make her art pieces after signing contracts, she said that it was simply a way to push her creativity to the limit. Knowing there was a set deadline prioritized her pacing and helped to generate a more stylistic approach compared to the normal methods. 

Erica seemed open, honest, and didn’t appear to have anything to hide. Part of Hoseok thought this trepidation was silly and unwarranted. When he brought up his concerns to Namjoon, he encouraged Hoseok to just talk to her. He didn’t think the solution would be something as simple as that, but he couldn’t refute it until he actually tried it.

So he waited to gain access to the workshop that Erica was currently renting out to put her pieces together. In truth, Hoseok never showcased much in the realm of glass or metal art pieces in his gallery. Most of it was the traditional watercolor, oil painting, or even sculptures of clay or stone. This was a new subject, even for him. 

When the metal doors slid open, a rush of heat immediately pressed against his entire body. Hoseok coughed from the suddenness of it, using his forearm to shield the lower half of his face to keep himself from breathing in the heat. Sweat slid down his neck and bubbled along the bridge of his nose. Hoseok’s eyes began to water in response to the stifling heat. 

Something cold touched his neck, causing him to jump slightly from shock at the sudden sensation. When he turned, he saw Erica holding out a bottle of water for him. He gave a sheepish smile as he took it from her. She helped herself to a generous swig from her own bottle and he couldn’t help but admire her rugged appearance. 

A thick leather work apron was wrapped around her body, a pair of thick gloves stuffed into the large front pocket. Her jeans were worn, stuffed into a pair of combat boots. Erica’s shirt was a black, loose fitted tank top, showcasing the muscle definition in her arms. There were a few scrapes and telltale red marks that indicated she’d suffered a few scorches from the flames she used in her work. He wouldn’t have guessed she had such a physique after having seen her in person for their casual business meeting.

There was a sheen of sweat along her olive skin, giving it a warm glow. Hoseok’s cheeks flushed slightly when he realized she was now looking back at him just as intently.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, averting his gaze, “I didn’t mean to intrude during your work hours.”

Erica waved off his apology. “It’s fine. I was just about to call it a day.” She turned toward the direction of where the heat was coming from. “Douse the furnace, guys!”

Within a few seconds, hissing noises were heard and the heat radiating from one particular area began to dissipate. A few metal shutters were slid closed and lights began to blink off one after another. Only one section was still lit and it was to the far left of the warehouse. Hoseok only managed to blink a few times before he heard Erica laughing beside him.

“Would you like to take a peek?” she asked, gesturing to the cluster of things covered with simple sheets. 

“If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she said, motioning for him to follow her to the far corner. 

Erica reached for the switch to one of four standing lamps. One by one, she pulled to turn them all on, then grasped a corner of one of the sheets. With an unnecessarily dramatic flourish, she lifted the sheet up and off to let it flutter to the floor.

What was revealed from beneath had Hoseok’s lips parting in awe. Glistening under the amber lighting were various glass and metal pieces situated on pedestals. All of them contained an element of the red spider lily. There was a glass orb with a spider lily design blown across the surface, coloring the opposite side with the reflection from the light. A traditional looking Asian fan containing glass and metal had the red spider lily emblazoned along the spread. Around the edge of the fan were clusters of glass spider lilies. 

There were easily twelve pieces already completed. Each a different shape, style, or ornament with the red spider lily as the focus or accent to the work. But what had Hoseok pausing in mid-swig of his water was the metal spider lily that sat on a white satin pillow. He wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or the type of metal Erica chose to forge with, but the flower had an ethereal sheen to it that nearly mesmerized him. He unconsciously began reaching for it, stopping just before his fingers could actually touch it.

A sudden shock rocketed up his arm, startling him. Recoiling, he pulled his hand back quickly. He managed a few short breaths before collecting himself. “I’m sorry…” Hoseok pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “I don’t know what came over me just now.”

Erica said nothing. She just looked at him, her expression giving away nothing. Hoseok wasn’t sure if he'd made her mad, but she didn’t appear to be upset with him. After a moment of unbearably awkward silence, she smiled and moved to pick up the sheet from the floor. 

“I’m glad you like them,” was all she said before covering up her artworks with the sheet. Wiping her hands along the front of her apron, Erica reached into the front pocket and pulled out a hair tie. As she pulled her thick curls back into a low ponytail, she glanced over her shoulder back at the concealed pieces. “I should be done in another week. Just in time to get everything set up for the showcase.”

Something inside of Hoseok mourned their absence once they were completely hidden from view. There was a soft ache nestled at the front of his chest and he absentmindedly rubbed at it. Erica seemed to sense a shift in his demeanor and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Are you tired?”

A flash of white erupted in his line of sight, almost blinding him. Hoseok’s ears began to ring as different voices seemed to jump around in his head. Replacing the white void was a lush green field and when he next looked up, he was staring face to face with not Erica, but a different woman. She blinked up at him as she lifted her face from her forearms, looking a little sleepy. 

Her lips parted and she leaned back quickly, gasping a little as he blinked curiously at her.

“W-What?” she stammered out, heat rushing up her neck and spreading over her cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

He was crouched down on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. But he didn’t move any closer to her. “I was asking if you were tired.”

And in a flash, it was gone. He was back in the world he knew, his eyes wide and staring straight into Erica’s face. She was close, as if inspecting his features, and he felt her press the back of her wrist against his forehead. 

“W-What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice trembling.

She frowned, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I was asking if you were tired.” 

Hoseok’s heart practically lodged itself in his throat. 

“But now that I’m getting a better look, you don’t seem so good. It might be the heat.” Erica took a step back while reaching into her apron pocket. “I’ll call a cab for you.” Turning her back to him, she shifted her focus to her phone, leaving Hoseok dazed and confused.

His body reacted before his mind could. He quickly closed the distance between them, slamming his chest into her back. His water bottle clattered to the floor and he heard Erica gasp, feeling her back muscles tense up as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Hoseok felt vibrations along his skin and it was hard for him to tell if Erica was the one shaking, or if it was him.

“D-Director Jung?”

Her voice brought Hoseok crashing back to reality. He promptly released her, taking several steps back as he held his hands up. “I’m...I’m so sorry.”

Erica turned to look at him. However, instead of an expression of rage or confusion, he could see something akin to sadness. Why was she sad? Had he somehow damaged something that he hadn’t intended to? And why had his body reacted in such a way? It felt natural. Being that near to her felt right and safe. 

Yet he couldn’t ignore the heavy despair that sat at the bottom of his lungs.

He quickly pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the entrance of the warehouse. The echo of his footsteps reverberated off the walls, but only his. Erica made no move to chase after him.

“Do you have to go?”

Her voice blanketed every square inch of him, halting him in mid-retreat. Craning his neck slowly, he glanced over to see that Erica was holding her phone at her side. Her expression never changed, still showing that sad sense of longing that he couldn’t quite understand the reasoning behind it. Her entire being was a mystery and one that he didn’t think he’d be able to escape from.

Another voice echoed in his mind.

“I don’t want you to go.”

It was his own.

Something was wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it. All he could do was run for now. It was the easiest solution, even though he knew it probably wasn’t the best one.

“...I’ll see you when it’s time to prepare for the showcase, Miss Bronwyn. Have a good rest of your evening.”

And without wanting to risk looking back, Hoseok quickly moved down the sidewalk. There was no way he was driving back home. Not with his nerves this severely rattled. Pulling out his phone, he was already dialing Namjoon.

He needed a drink.

The showcase was successful and received tons of recognition and positive feedback. It was to be expected. Erica was far from arrogant, but she was completely confident in her own skills. If anyone had anything negative to say, it was usually in reference to her chosen style and medium than anything else. But even the harshest of critics would finally admit that her talent was forged from years of practice, study, and due diligence. She should have been proud and, in some measure, she was.

But surface level pride could only do so much to nourish her spirit.

Erica could feel her determination starting to wane. The encounter she had with Hoseok at her warehouse caused a surge of hope to ignite inside of her. But following his hasty retreat, she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him. All calls were forwarded to Namjoon and while he did his best to reassure her that everything was fine, Erica could hardly take comfort in his words.

The way he embraced her in the workshop fueled something inside of both Ehri and herself. While the passion simmered on the surface from Ehri’s memories, Erica felt drawn to Hoseok as well. Her own affection and longing to understand him stayed hovering above the surface. She wanted to know him and empathize with him, not because of the past, but for the present.

Ehri’s feelings coincided with her own. They both wanted Hoseok to heal and feel the beauty of reconnection. But it wouldn’t be possible if he kept keeping her at a distance. She didn’t know when she would be able to talk to him again outside of work-related subjects. Would there be an opportunity to bridge the gap before she was scheduled to head back to the United States?

She wanted to be able to impart something to him before what little development happened disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Her phone buzzed on her nightstand and Erica absentmindedly looked at the screen. It was Namjoon, reminding her that there was to be a celebratory dinner being held in her honor in a few hours. Benjamin told her that it would be in her best interest to attend, regardless of the outcome and of the events that transpired prior to tonight. Erica wasn’t sure if she wanted to go, but she also knew that there was a level of professionalism and decorum that needed to be adhered to. 

Picking up her phone, she texted Namjoon that she would meet them there. Sighing, she looked back at her reflection in the mirror. Erica’s appearance was so different from Ehri’s. Being half Korean and half African American at least blessed her with Asian eyes and a Korean button nose. But her olive skin, thick curly hair and heart-shaped face helped to differentiate her from the rest of the crowd. Not belonging to one community or the other, it took a lot of struggles in her life to accept and respect her origins.

Having the soul of a Mongolian woman from centuries in the past made adjusting to her life in the present a little bit harder to deal with than she would have cared to admit.

“May as well try to enjoy myself,” she muttered, moving from the vanity to begin getting ready. 

Erica opted for a simple hunter green cocktail dress. It was safe, eloquent but not too gaudy to bring a lot of attention to herself. Dolling up her face with natural makeup and a soft bronzer for the finish, she chose gold hoops and a simple gold necklace with a flower pendant to finish the look. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail placed on the side to accentuate her high cheekbones. Slipping into a pair of simple, black strappy heels, she grabbed her purse and dialed for a cab. 

It didn’t take her long to arrive. This particular lounge was a comfortable bar and restaurant. Reservations were required to enter, as well as an appropriate dress code. After she gave the host her name, she was escorted to the back to a private dining area. 

Her assistants at the shop and Benjamin greeted her warmly. Namjoon came and shook her hand, as well as giving her a hug. Hoseok was the last to speak with Erica and his appearance seemed serene and unsettled. It was a stark contrast to the last time she saw him, having seen his visibly shaken countenance soon after he embraced her. But now he conducted himself like a professional in every sense of the word.

She was smiling on the outside, but on the inside Erica could feel the distance growing even more between them.

Everyone cheered and congratulated Erica on her endeavors. It was a grueling two and a half weeks, but everything was complete and they all reassured her that the showcase went off without a hitch. She smiled and laughed when it was appropriate, downing flute after flute of champagne. It was the only way she could keep the pain in her chest at bay. Bellies full with food and booze, Erica quickly excused herself so she could enjoy the evening air on the lounge’s back patio.

The cool breeze soothed her warm skin, allowing her a small respite from her thoughts. Smiling sadly to herself, she had to admit that the evening was fun and her time in Korea was also enjoyable. There was no sense in rushing anything, even though she could feel Ehri’s desperation to reunite with the man she loved. But didn’t Erica have a say as well? This was her life just as much as it was Ehri’s. It was unfair to push all unresolved feelings of yearning onto someone who wasn’t prepared for it.

Things had to be taken slowly. Patience needed to be grasped.

“It’s a beautiful evening,” a voice said from behind her.

Erica turned, surprised to see Hoseok standing out on the patio with her. He handed her a glass of water and she politely accepted it. Turning back to face the city, she leaned against the metal railing and looked up at the sky. Hoseok sidled up next to her, taking in the fresh air and the landscape as well.

“Thank you for hosting this party for me, Director Jung.” It was the only thing Erica could think to say at that particular moment. She didn’t want to create any awkward tension between them.

“Please, just call me Hoseok.” Erica turned to look at Hoseok, blinking in semi-shock to see him actually looking back at her. His brows furrowed and he seemed to be battling internally with something. “I want to apologize for my behavior. It was rude and uncalled for.” She opened her mouth to speak, but Hoseok shook his head, silencing all protests she might have had. “No. Truly, it was unacceptable. Instead of rationalizing what happened that day at your workshop, I let my emotions get the better of me and pushed you away.”

Her shoulders sagged as her expression darkened. She didn’t want this kind of apology. She wanted understanding and to have a conversation about what happened. Apologizing for it meant that Hoseok most likely wanted to sweep it under the rug; to forget about everything. But if his response was anything remotely close to what she was hoping for, a type of awakening, then the last thing she wanted was to have him ignore it. 

“There are these feelings I can’t shake when I’m around you.” Erica saw a pained look cross his features as Hoseok reached up to grasp at the front of his shirt. “Hell, even when I’m not around you, I’m overwhelmed. I hear my voice and I see you.” He paused long enough to avert his gaze. “But then I don’t see you. I can’t figure out the meaning behind it all and it's haunted me every waking hour since we separated.”

Erica felt her lips part slightly, wanting to reach out and hold him close. She wanted to let him know that everything would be fine. He just needed to take it slow. He just needed to breathe. 

Instead, she smiled and grasped his hand in her own. “It’s okay to be scared, y’know?” He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. “I was scared too.”

Hoseok blinked, his confusion obvious. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve read about this sort of thing happening. It could transpire in a variety of different ways. Every case is different.” Erica squeezed his hand, pressing her thumb into the center of his palm. “What you’re experiencing is the direct result of having met me. Your mind is starting to process what your body already accepts and understands.”

This was probably too much at once. Erica could sense it from the cold sweat forming in Hoseok’s palms. But every time she felt him beginning to pull away, she continued to hold his hand even tighter. Running from this wasn’t an option. He would either choose to submit to this ideology or deny it altogether. 

Running was out of the question.

“E-Erica-ssi,” he stammered, his eyes widening with every word she spoke. It broke her heart and fueled her determination simultaneously. “I...I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Hoseok-ah,” Erica said slowly, dropping the honorific on purpose. It startled her more than it did him, despite it visibly showing on his face. “When you look into my eyes, what do you see? What do you feel when you look at me?”

Silence swirled around them, the ambient noise of the city a mere whisper on the cusp of how much energy was radiating between them. Erica maintained eye-contact with Hoseok and the intensity of her gaze was enough to keep him from looking away. She needed him to see what was buried in the depths of her soul; the very person who wished so hard to be reborn just so she could be with the man she loved so much. 

The transition would be terrifying to experience, but at least he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

She watched him swallow the lump in his throat and for a split second, her vision blurred from the onset of tears she was fighting so hard not to shed. Erica couldn’t afford to break down now. Not when he was so close to voicing the truth he wouldn’t be able to escape.

“I see you. But a you that isn’t you.” Hoseok bit his lower lip and she could feel his body trembling as she continued to hold his hand. “I feel like I know you. But the me that knows you isn’t someone I recognize.” He held a hand to his forehead, his hip leaning against the metal railing for support. “He has my voice...but there’s something off about it.”

“It’s not off. It’s just different. What else?” Erica rubbed comforting circles with her thumb along his knuckles now to ease the tension. “Do you remember anything else?”

“A name.”

Erica’s heart hammered like thunder against her ribs. “...a name?”

With his hand still pressed to his forehead, he peered into her eyes and something different swirled in his dark depths. It was clarity and resignation, albeit fearful. But it sat confidently in his gaze, his eyes taking on a glassy sheen under the fluorescent bulbs from the street lamps. 

“Your name.” He took a step forward, twisting his hand so that his fingers were laced through hers. “I see you, Bayaraa Ehri.”

The tears she’d been holding back mercilessly fell, streaming her cheeks. She dropped the glass of water from her hands, letting it shatter around her feet. She didn’t care that her feet were wet or that she’d broken something. The sound barely registered in her mind. Erica never imagined this feeling of reconnection would explode inside of her. It was like Ehri’s soul was singing with renewed vigor; her second breath of life finally given the opportunity to breathe ; to be.

She smiled through her tears, relishing in the feel of Hoseok’s hand resting against her cheek. His thumb stroked affectionate circles beneath her eye. The look on his face mirrored the face of the man Bayaraa Ehri loved so much.

A face that Erica Bronwyn loved as well.

“I see you too, Wang Hoseok…” She reached up to brush her fingers through the fringe of his hair. “And I see you, Jung Hoseok.”

Not wanting to destroy the moment, all Erica could do was bask in the glow of her own feelings. Not Ehri’s, but her own sense of joy and fulfillment in that very instant. Hoseok pulled her closer and she felt her heart rate escalate until she was forced to close her eyes. She felt his breath along her skin as her body pressed against his; melding into it.

And then his lips brushed against hers, sending her whole world into a tailspin.

Her mouth parts slightly at his silent insistence, tasting his lips. It was a mixture of champagne and her raspberry lip gloss. Erica’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, nearly causing her legs to buckle in agony. She felt Hoseok’s fingers curl even tighter through her own, his other hand having vacated the planes of her face to press along the curve of her lower back. Erica’s own hand gripped at the base of his neck, the roaring thunder of her heart exploding in her ears.

Until there was stillness. Silence. So quiet that both body and soul could savor the moment; to, once again, garner meaning to their existence. 

Erica Bronwyn was scared.

Bayaraa Ehri was terrified.

Both were elated beyond measure.

“Oh, that?” He stood from the small stool situated at her bedside and retrieved the box from the table. After he sat back down, he opened it and showed her the metallic spider lily inside. “Do you like it?”

She nodded.

“I’m glad.” He closed the box. “It was supposed to be your wedding present, but I figured this would help lift your spirits some.”

Ehri sighed a little, her brows furrowing. “But didn’t you say that the legend of the Spider Lily is a sad story?” She pouted again. “Why would you give me such a thing as a wedding present?”

Hoseok reached out to pet her head. “I bought this from an artisan who claimed that this flower is different from the actual spider lily.”

“Different how?”

Again, he opened the box to show her the lovely flower. “He said that anyone who possesses this flower is guaranteed to be reunited with their love in the next life. It will not come to pass like in the tale of Manju and Saka.”

“How can he guarantee that?”

“I asked the same thing,” Hoseok said while laughing. He closed the box. “But we will just have to see when we are reborn again, hm?” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I want to love you again in our next life, Ehri-ah.”

Hoseok cried out, gulping a lungful of air as the sheets clung to his upper body like a second skin. Bolting upright, he stared wide-eyed at the space just below his wall clock. The ticking of the second hand sounded like muffled gunshots in his ears. His breath came in heavy, short intervals and it took him a moment to actually calm down.

Groping in the dark for his phone, he barely managed to snatch it off the nightstand. The screen instantly lit up to show the time in blinding white numbers.

4:37AM.

Everything felt like a dream. Or, rather, like he was dreaming while still awake. When Hoseok was asleep, he didn’t feel like he was actually sleeping. Instead of dreams, his mind was filled with memories in colors so vibrant they were nearly blinding. His world, the world he’d always known, felt so faded and seemingly colorless in comparison. This was a life; his life. His old cycle that was now blossoming with life and fervor, threatening to burst clear from his body and soar to the skies.

Hugging his chest, he leaned forward and shuddered. A cold sweat peppered across his back and neck, dripping from his nose. His hands felt clammy and cold, no matter how much he rubbed his arms up and down to soothe the overwhelming sensation wrapping around him. 

He needed to get up. He needed to move. His body would lock up and go into shock if he didn’t. 

Stumbling from his bed, Hoseok felt the sheets wrapping around his ankles. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, his breathing escalating as he tried to sit back up. A spike of pain struck at the forefront of his mind, causing him to cry out. Fluttering petals swirled around the bedroom as a ray of morning light seemed to spread in a cone through the large bay windows.

“Seobang-nim?”

Hoseok hummed.“Yes, what is it, Pu-in?”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.” Ehri gripped her fingers a little tighter around his. “Thank you for everything.”

Hoseok moved, causing Ehri to lift her head up so she had to look at him. While one hand held hers, his other rested along her neck. “Pu-in…”

“I love you,” she whispered to him, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

White heat burned his eyes, causing him to cover them with both hands. He screamed, the painful throb beating mercilessly against his temples. All he could do was curl up into a ball, writhing in agony as the images continued to flash in rapid succession like a camera shutter. 

Laughter.

So much laughter.

Worry.

Hope.

Determination.

Resignation.

Overwhelming despair.

Rolling over onto his side, he clutched the letter in his hands as his tears soaked into his silk pillow. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely recognizable, “I don’t want to be here to see it alone. I don’t want to see it march on without you here with me.”

And then, the proverbial dam inside of him broke. Everything surged into him all at once. Every single memory of the past pulsed through him. He remembered everything. 

His life as a member of the royal household’s branch family. 

His parents. 

His brothers. 

The street market vendor who sold him the spider lily forged in metal.

"I find it hard to believe that you don't," teased the vendor, which caused Hoseok to cant his head slightly, "but let's just say that this flower isn't an ordinary spider lily. The one who forged this flower said that the tragedy still exists inside, just as the legend dictates. But unlike Manju and Saka, the one who holds this flower will be able to reunite with their loved one in the next life. Guaranteed."

And the moment he first laid eyes on Bayaraa Ehri, the woman he loved.

The woman he would continue to love even into their next life.

Sobbing into his hands was all he could do at that moment. In the midst of his pain, he was experiencing everything simultaneously. It was sensory overload at its finest.

And then there was absolute quiet.

Still. Quiet. Clarity.

Jung Hoseok and Wang Hoseok were now truly one.

Clambering to his feet, he quickly made his way to the bathroom. He showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. Faded jeans and a gray hoodie comprised his attire, but he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. As he left his apartment, the security lock beeping as the door closed, he beelined for the elevator. He was already dialing for a cab before the lift dinged to signify he was on the ground floor. The driver greeted him warmly, despite the late hour, and Hoseok did his best to remain polite. But desperation nearly superseded his need to be amicable. 

He gave the driver the address to Erica’s hotel and as they made the drive, he called her. Her sleepy voice answered and Hoseok felt like he’d grown wings. Erica’s voice, to him, sounded like Ehri’s. And Ehri’s voice was now Erica’s. He finally understood what she meant when she said she’d been afraid too.

It must have been like this for her. It must have been like this for her for a long time. 

“Erica, it’s me.”

“Hoseok-ssi?” He could hear shuffling on the other line. “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

He smiled, unable to keep his joy hidden. “I’m almost at your hotel. Can you meet me in the lobby?”

“Uh, sure. Let me get dressed…”

They said their goodbyes just as the cab driver announced they would be arriving shortly. He quickly paid the man, dashing toward the front entrance of the hotel. The sliding glass doors barely had time to open as Hoseok squeezed his way through them. The elevator dinged and the doors parted to reveal Erica dressed in a large sweatshirt and leggings. She was barely able to open her mouth and say his name before he pushed into the elevator, knocking her back against the wall. His lips immediately sealed over her own and she gasped, reaching up to grip at his shoulders while steadying both of them at the same time.

He broke the kiss, allowing them to breathe, and he couldn’t help but admire the pink tinge settling along her olive skin. She huffed, her chest pressed against his. He was having a difficult time discerning whose heart was beating the hardest.

“H-Hoseok,” Erica managed to say, her brows lifted in surprised, “what’s the matter?”

“I remember it all.” Hoseok watched her eyes widen even further and he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. “I remember everything .” She moved to cover her mouth with her hand, but he grabbed it, keeping it away from her lips. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to breathe in her scent; her very soul into his being. “I’m me. I’m the me of today and yesterday.”

Hoseok watched her bottom lip quiver as tears filled her eyes. “E-Everything?”

He nodded. “Everything.” 

They both inhaled sharply, their lips seeking eachother out. He could feel her body trembling as he held her tightly against her, not caring that he was shedding tears himself. And as their lips parted once more, he leaned down so their noses were barely touching - the swell of her mouth still so close to his own. 

“Wang Hoseok missed her desperately,” he whispered against her lips, “and Jung Hoseok needs you desperately.”

He could see the trepidation visibly fleeing from her gaze. It must have been the one thing that she was still fearful over; the one thing that she didn’t want to give a voice to. Because he was afraid for the same reason. 

If one spirit had more power over the other, would the other cease to exist?

But he could sense it. His consciousness and the consciousness of his old self were nestled side by side. They were choosing to coexist in this moment and for every moment that would transpire after. Half of his heart longed for Bayaraa Ehri and the other half was pulled in Erica Bronwyn’s direction. Two halves of a whole begging to be acknowledged and listened to.

Again, Hoseok kissed her full lips; drank in her very being. She didn’t have the same face as Ehri, but her soul was there - standing alongside the woman who lived in this life.

The life of Erica Bronwyn.

“You’ve dealt with this longer than I have.” He smiled against her mouth. “I’m afraid that I’ll have to request your assistance on the matter.”

Erica pulled back a measure and he took a moment to sweep his hands over her tear-stained cheeks. She did the same for him. “That’s fine,” she whispered, shifting forward so he was forced to move in the opposite direction with his back pressed against the wall. Her hand reached over to the different buttons on the elevator’s panel and she hit the one for her floor. The lift shook and then moved upward. “There’s no rush.”

Hoseok smiled openly and she, in turn, smiled as well. They were still themselves. But they were also two people pulling the past behind them. With Ehri’s illness came a sense of despair that was often smothered with the hope that a miracle would transpire. But when the end came, it was swift and merciless. Their time was short, but their love was magnanimous. Everything felt rushed, just like the manner in which he’d regained the memories of his old life.

There was no sense of urgency present. Erica and Hoseok could both take their time as pieces of their souls found solace in reuniting again. They had the opportunity to love and fall in love all over again.

The true miracle was now. 

He pulled her close, nestling his face into the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around his. Again, he drank in her scent, pressing a hand against the back of her head - his palm resting along the thick nest of curls. For a small eternity, Hoseok held her in his arms. And seconds before the elevator dinged for the appropriate floor, he lifted his head back only to turn his face to meet Erica’s lips again, savoring the taste of her as if for the very first time. The steady drum of their hearts beat in time with one another.

Now that we have the time...

“I’ve heard them whisper on the streets how I am not a Dragon, but a Mad Tiger. So be it. The people know nothing of madness. But they will learn soon enough.” - Lee Yoon - Shadow’s Birthright

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,168

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

CHAPTER 35:  House of Cards

“As time passes by We only mess it up even more.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Yoongi didn’t look back even once to see if Yoo Kihyun was following him. He didn’t have to. He already knew that the man would follow because his twisted curiosity wouldn’t allow him to ignore Yoongi. There were questions that the man would have and the only one who could give him the proper answers would be The Lightning Claw.

No one else. Just him.

Ducking into a nearby lounge bar, the barkeep greeted them and told the two men they could sit anywhere. Yoongi plopped onto a stool at the bar, ordering a glass of cognac. Kihyun sidled into the seat next to him, ordering a whiskey sour. Neither of them cared that it was the middle of the day and that they weren’t on vacation. This was business; at least it was for Yoongi. He only had a semblance of an idea of what Kihyun’s agenda was.

The two men sat in silence; the soft clinking of ice in their tumblers the only noise either made between them. A soft jazz medley played in the background, barely audible over the sound pounding inside the shell of Yoongi’s ears. His eyes zeroed in on the amber colored liquor in his glass, his fingers pressing into the brim of the glass. There was an ache in his chest from how the heavy thrum his heart and he clenched his jaw; an almost vain attempt to quiet his ire that was beginning to escalate.

Mentally chanting a mantra to himself, Yoongi lifted the glass to his lips to take a generous sip. The alcohol slid down his throat smoothly, the burn curling into the pit of his stomach. Closing his eyes, he fought back an oncoming migraine as he set the glass on the coaster. Just as he was getting a handle on his anger, Kihyun decided to speak up.

“It’s almost a shame, you know,” he said gently, casting Yoongi a sidelong glance, “if you all decide to leave Seoul.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed slowly as he looked at Kihyun. “And why the hell would we do that?”

Kihyun laughed softly, as if he’d heard an interesting joke. “You don’t have to play dumb, Yoongi-ah. We both know you’re aware of what’s going on.”

“You never answered my question, Kihyun-ah,” he said evenly, “what were you doing there?”

“I thought I gave you an answer already.”

“It wasn’t good enough.”

He shrugged. “I’m afraid it’s going to have to be. I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.”

“Stop messing around,” Yoongi growled, grasping Kihyun’s shoulder so he could force the other man to face him, “because I know you better than that.”

Kihyun’s eyes took on a wet sheen in the low light of the bar. His smirk remained, practically screaming that he knew something and wasn’t willing to share. It pissed Yoongi off and he dug his fingers into Kihyun’s shoulder to emphasize his displeasure. But nothing could wipe the other man’s smirk away, though a brow did twitch in response.

“Do you? I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.” He laughed. “About us.”

Yoongi pulled his hand away, like he’d touched an open flame. Kihyun looked completely satisfied with himself, turning away to face the bar and take another drink. The blood roared in his ears, muffling all sounds once more while taking measured breaths to alleviate the strain on his nerves. Spinning in the stool, he hunched over the bar as if to shield himself.

“That was a long time ago,” he muttered, feeling a cold sweat break out along his temple, “you’d do well to forget about it.”

“Well, that’s not fair at all.” Yoongi heard the ice in Kihyun’s glass clinking together. “I look back on those days quite fondly.”

A mild ache pulsed at the bridge of Yoongi’s nose, attempting to control all thoughts clambering to the surface.

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

Yoongi whirled around in his seat, leaning forward to press into Kihyun’s personal space. “Goddammit, Yoo Kihyun!” he growled under his breath. The other man continued to smile. “Stop with your stupid fucking games!” He reached out slowly, curling his fingers into the lapel of Kihyun’s coat. “I mean it.”

For a while, neither of them spoke a word. The silence that existed between them was deeper than any chasm. The barkeep watched them out of the corner of his eye but continued polishing glasses and serving other customers. Yoongi felt his lungs beginning to expand with each breath he took, as though he’d been climbing a mountain and was only just now stopping to rest.

He almost jumped when Kihyun pressed his hand along the back of his wrist. Yoongi reeled backward, his heart rate escalating all the way to the vein in his neck. Kihyun laughed, shaking his head while shifting his body to face the bar again.

“You’re a mess, Min Yoongi. You make it too easy.”

Yoongi scoffed and drained the rest of his drink. “Shut-up.”

“Seriously, someone will start thinking you actually care.”

“I said shut-up.”

Kihyun sighed gently. “Do you ever think about how things would have been different had you come with me back then?”

It was Yoongi’s turn to laugh, though there was no amusement behind it. “If you ever thought, for one second , that I’d ever leave the Golden Jackals—”

“If I wasn’t a Jade Fang, you would have.”

“Fucking as if.”

“We didn’t need the underworld to thrive,” he whispered, “we made enough trouble all by ourselves.”

“You lived in a fantasy world, Kihyun-ah. You still do.”

Kihyun leaned back and shrugged. “Dreams become reality eventually.”

“Not this time.”

The bartender refilled Yoongi’s drink. Just as he was about to take another sip, he heard the other man laugh loudly, causing his shoulders to tense up on reflex.

“That’s where you’re wrong, I’m afraid.”

Yoongi glared at Kihyun, seeing the icy expression replacing the jovial one. He felt a lump of ice forming in the pit of his stomach and Yoongi sat up straight in his seat. Again, Kihyun looked as though he knew something and wasn’t willing to share. He didn’t like being the butt-end of a joke and he hated it more when someone was able to hold something over his head. In this instance, it seemed like both were happening simultaneously.

He had half a mind to punch Kihyun straight in the mouth.

“Changkyun-ah is still trying to put the pieces together. We all are.” Kihyun waved to the bartender so that he could refill his glass. “I’m sure you’ve managed to figure some things out. You’re not a moron.”

Yoongi said nothing. His eyes shifted to look at Kihyun’s profile, watching as he took a slow drink from his glass.

“Some things I’ve kept to myself.” Kihyun craned his neck to look into Yoongi’s eyes. “For personal reasons, of course.”

He wasn’t going to fall for this bluff. Kihyun did this to him all the time years ago. He would feed just enough information to a person to get them to slip up, divulging more than they’d intended. Observant and being petty were his strong suits, to the point that Yoongi often had to keep his guard up just to avoid falling into a trap.

…he doesn’t have anything, he thought, pursing his lips together, he’s fishing. If he had something, he wouldn’t be dancing around like this.

“I have to say that I never pegged you for the type to give up.”

Yoongi blinked, leaning back to gauge Kihyun’s expression. It was placid, almost bored-like. This unnerved him, but only slightly. Was he trying to play the game another way?

He decided to test the waters. “…what do you mean?”

“Eden McGee.”

His mouth went dry as a throbbing sensation exploded near the back of his head. Yoongi felt heat rising through his intestines, against his chest and into his throat. His shoulders shook, trembling in tandem with his fists as they curled near his thighs. There was a distinct ringing sound in his ears, and he swallowed the lump that managed to form near his Adam’s apple.

“What did you just say?”

Kihyun’s smile returned and Yoongi realized too late that he’d fallen for his trick. “Eden McGee,” he repeated slowly, rolling the vowels around on his tongue, “I’m surprised you gave her up so easily.”

“Ya, Yoo Kihyun,” Yoongi managed to huff out, “do you have a death wish?”

The other man clapped his hands together, leaning back in his chair to laugh in triumph. It was too late for Yoongi to take anything back. Even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t have bothered.

“See? This is what I meant when I said you were making this too easy.” Kihyun narrowed his eyes as he lazily propped his cheek into his palm. “She was the one, wasn’t she? The one you turned your back on me for?” The question held no warmth to it. Kihyun quipped a brow while Yoongi did everything he could to tether his anger to the heels of his boots. “I never would have guessed you’d let her run to the arms of your little brother.”

“You keep her name out of your fucking mouth or I will make sure you won’t live to regret it.”

Kihyun shrugged as if the threat didn’t matter to him.

“I’d say I’m jealous, but it’s clear you’re not the man I once thought you were.”

“Come off it,” snapped Yoongi, “there was no reason for me to join hands with you back then. Nothing’s changed.” He stood from the stool, placing a handful of bills on the bar counter. “And it won’t change. You better tell Im Changkyun to get his fucking head out of his ass. We’re not going to play his stupid game.”

Yoongi started to walk away. But just as he passed Kihyun, the other man chuckled softly. Pausing in his steps, Yoongi continued looking forward. He wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d gotten under his skin.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-ah.” There was the soft clinking of ice on glass as he heard it being set down on the counter. “You already are.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Yoongi spat as he looked over his shoulder.

Kihyun stood from his chair, placing money on the counter. He stood in front of Yoongi, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. A chill raced down his back as he stared into the confident expression of the man he once thought he could love. But it was a lie; a house of cards built on a cheap, rickety folding table.

“Nothing is going to come of you staying here,” Kihyun said simply while shrugging one shoulder, “except for a lot of pain. What affection I have left for you doesn’t want to expose you to that.”

Yoongi was rooted to the spot. Even as he watched Kihyun approach him, he couldn’t move. It was like someone cemented his boots to the ground, restricting all movement from him. Kihyun gently pressed his shoulder against his, turning his head so he could lean forward and whisper softly into the shell of Yoongi’s ear.

“Be selfish, Yoongi-ah.” Goosebumps peppered along the back of Yoongi’s neck as he spoke. “Take that woman from your little brother and leave this place. Otherwise—”

“Or what, goddammit?!” He hadn’t meant to bark the question, but there was a heavy feeling weighing inside the center of his gut.

“…otherwise,” he said slowly, moving around Yoongi to head for the exit, “you’ll shed tears of blood.”

As he watched Kihyun exit the lounge, Yoongi could only stare in wide-eyed shock. Long after he was gone, he remained – spine ramrod straight as a cold feeling washed over him. He wasn’t sure what he should have been doing, but his legs trembled slightly as the very weight of Kihyun’s words fell on top of his shoulders. Suddenly, his knees buckled and his hip crashed into the bar counter – an almost vain attempt to keep himself upright.

Yoongi clutched at his chest, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as a sharp pain sliced through his chest. Slowly, he took a breath only to wince in pain as the feeling worsened instead of ebbing. It felt like needles spreading out through his lungs, causing a ragged cough to explode from his body. The barkeep asked if he was alright, but Yoongi couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything. Nothing save for the drumming pulse of his own heart increasing its tempo with every passing second.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts with a shaky hand. Seeing Jungkook’s picture, he slid his thumb over his brother’s name. But before he could hear the first ring, the world blurred in and out of focus – the shadows creeping around the corners of his eyes.

His consciousness was gone long before he hit the ground.

Welp..

^That’s me kicking back watching all of Tumblr lose their shit, drop their current projects to give all the glory to one Min Yoongi. 

Mhmm. 

So, as the herder of schedules and outlines for the biasrekkers.  Admin E? Go forth and wreck. 

Prepare your buttholes this one is gonna be a WILD RIDE YA’LL. 

Catharsis: Jin

Ca-thar-sis - the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Genre:  BDSM. Smut. Established Relationship. D/s Relationship.

Pairing: Hard Dom!Jin x Reader [’Pixie’]

Warnings: D/s relationship. Hard! Dom Jin. Spanking. Choking. Reckless Blowjobs. Tears. Degradation. Excess Saliva. Squirting. Anal Play. Anal Orgasm. Fingering. Biting. Orgasm Denial. Overstimulation. The reader is a Masochist—use of toys. Plot if you squint.

Word Count: 5.7K

A/N: Uhm. Whew. I may or may not do a whole series with all the boys. Thanks to the @thebiasrekkers​ for beta and sweating on this one. Also big thanks to @taetaesbaebaepsae​ for the content check. Also, please remember that everyone’s definition of hard/soft varies in the realm of BDSM. What that entails is always between the Dom/Domme and their Sub. This is an established long-term relationship where the Dominant can read his Sub’s body and reactions to stimuli. You will note that the Dominant asked for consent to proceed with the session. Please be safe. Please know your limits. Please talk with your partner for a complete understanding with any kind of play.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin T). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“I think this is the best option that we have right now, ma’am.” A board member smirked, “I assure you we have everything under control. You should just let us han-” He didn’t get a chance to finish before she pinned him with a hard gaze. 

“Gentlemen, let me remind you of one thing. I’m in charge. This is my firm. The best option is the option that I feel will mitigate greater loss.” The older men seemed to bristle as she clasped her fingers in front of her. “Now, I don’t understand why we keep having to revisit the conversation every fucking time I want to make a change to the status quo.” 

There was a soft shuffle of movement as Jin laid thick manila folders in front of each member. He was impeccably dressed, and his very presence seemed to further add to the tense atmosphere. She leaned back in her seat as Jin stepped forward, one hand placed casually in a pocket.

“Gentlemen of the esteemed board,” He offered a soft smile, “in front of you are the progress reports for the entire year. Our current proposal follows that based on future projections from these progress reports.” The flicker of paper seemed to run in a staccato of his speech. 

staccato of his speech. 

“Seokjin. While I know you’re one of the brightest minds in the field,” another member spoke up with an almost exasperated sigh, “…you must understand that we’ve used these contacts for a long time. We are comfortable with the results. Maybe you can get Madam CEO to see reason, surely?” 

Jin’s gaze slid down to the woman next to him, vibrating with rage—with the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The slight purse of her lips allowed thin streams of air to fill her lungs. The flare of her nostrils, the quiver of her eyeballs as she managed to keep her temper under control. 

It stirred something deep inside his gut. His gaze narrowed as he willed the quick flicker of lust to cool. She was so beautiful in this state, a raging fire that would incinerate everything in her path. A weaponized force is only able to be wielded by the worthy. He saw her take a deep breath, the flutter of her lashes against the dusky apple of her cheek. He swallowed thickly before clearing his throat, “Madam.” 

“Jin, I will not kowtow to these fools!” She refused to look at him. She refused to back down from this fight. She refused to lose the ground she had gained after years in that chair. 

The board members shuffled, uneasy, in their seats suddenly. “Madam, please.” She tensed briefly at the tone. Her heartbeat against her rib cage like it wanted to escape. It was a long moment before she gave Jin a sidelong glance. There was a thick swallow as she noted the look in his eyes. 

Shit.

She exhaled, “Fine. I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Seokjin.” There was a brief slide of her chair against the floor. A flick of the wrist, she spied the time, “I can handle my next meeting without you.” There was the briefest flicker of irritation in her gaze before breezing past him. She didn’t give that table a second glance as the door clicked upon her exit. 

The tension seemed to grow upon her exit. All eyes turned to Kim Seokjin as he stared at the closed door. He exhaled softly before lowering himself into that chair. His body was absorbing the warmth she left behind. The older men waited in heavy silence as Jin dropped one leg over the other. An exasperated sigh as he pushed the fringe of his hair back.  

The motion caused the board members to shuffle again in their seats. It was as if he’d become a whole other entity with the hair pushed back from his face. The thin wire glasses were pinched from the bridge of his nose, stashed into an inner jacket pocket.

“Gentlemen.” A hand twirled in the air as he addressed them. “I’m going to make one thing glaringly clear.” He steepled his fingers in front of his face. His gaze was dark and menacing. “What Madam CEO wants? She gets it. It’s been her vision that has garnered the current reputation and financial yields you’ve all enjoyed.” His gaze slid over each face present. “Now, I don’t know how to get it into your feeble minds that you don’t run this show, but you don’t.” He smirked, leaning his head against his hand.

“I do.” His eyebrow lifted with the bold statement. “She sets the plan. I drive the ship. So, for the last fucking time? Do not make me lighten our cargo load. Because I can - no, I will make it extremely difficult for you. I’m not taking over. I’m not telling her to go against her gut.” The delicate flicker of his fingers as he waved them off. “Do not upset her again. This is the first and last time I will say this.” 

There were mouths slightly agape at what was said. Some knew better and were satisfied with the shock from their counterparts. It was an absolute known fact that Seokjin and the CEO were a thing. Some people had, at one point, tried to use that against her - to disastrous results. People didn’t understand who Seokjin was, the power and connections he had. They learned quickly to keep their noses out of their business. 

Within minutes, the boardroom was empty, and he was alone with his thoughts. The lights in the room dimmed with the lack of movement. Bathed in darkness, his hand wanders to the semi-hard on pulsating beyond his zipper. She had looked so fierce at that moment - he was so fucking proud. That unwavering stare, the slight elevation in her heart rate, and that defiance. His tongue slipped along his bottom lip as he pushed to stand. Glancing at his watch, he figured she should be wrapping up the last meeting for the day. Employees bowed to him as they exited for the day. His soft knock on a set of double doors was answered by a soft grunt from inside 

“We should get going.” He said softly. The only answer was an exasperated huff of air and the constant scribble of a pen on paper. Seokjin loosened the tie knotted too tightly against his neck. She didn’t hear him approach while she was lost in her thoughts - still simmering in that rage. 

She wanted to ignore him and live in the heat of the blood boiling in her veins. Her body was tense, locked, and rigid until she felt his fingers tucked under her chin. “Seokjin, I’ll leave when I’m rea-” Her words cut with the forceful turn of her head. The hard brown of her eyes was full and softening as Jin cut her off. 

“I said we’re leaving.” She felt a quiver in her thighs. She felt small in His shadow. The hair pushed back from his face, the smooth planes of his forehead visible, giving him an ethereal look. “Now.” 

“Yes, Sir.” The reply was automatic, her body relaxing into the hold, leaning forward slightly as his fingers pulled away. Calmly, she stacked papers onto a corner of the desk. She grabbed her purse and joined him at the door. He offered his elbow for her to link her arm through. 

A long silent drive home left her full of trepidation. She thought over the events of the day and knew she’d crossed a line. One line they had agreed not to pass at work. It was a part of their synergy, after all. She plowed through things like a bull in a china shop. She could be stubborn, reckless, and unyielding. He would remind her to calm her fiery instincts - and she would listen. He knew when she was doing too much - and today?

 She did too much. She let those old fools get under her skin - resulting in an unsightly display. 

The digital lock clicked as Seokjin entered, stepping aside so that she could follow. She stepped out of her shoes, hung her purse, and took her spot. The tension still riding her left her with stiff posture. 

“Tsk, tsk.” Jin admonished, stepping out of his shoes. “Look at you, my little Pixie.” She could feel that gentle drag of his fingers along her arm. He noted the goosebumps that rose along her skin. “So, tense.” His voice a delicate whisper against the shell of her ear. “So disobedient.” Those fingers trailed against the nape of her neck, reaching in before tugging at the root. “And you know what happens to disobedient little sluts, right?” He spoke between clenched teeth. 

She gasped as her head tugged at an unnatural angle; the pain caused a rush through her system. It was the price paid for answering one millisecond too slow. He could see the pulse throbbing in her neck. “I hate when you let others have power over you, Pixie.” His nose pushed into the crook of her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. “That’s a right reserved for someone, isn’t it?” She nodded weakly. “Who?”

“You.” He tugged harder. “Sir! You, Sir. Just you.” There was the prickle of sweat beading on the tip of her nose. He ripped the blouse from her shoulders, the bite marks on her shoulder were varying shades of red and purple. He found a flawless bit of skin near her shoulder - and he bit down again.

She made a sound in the pit of her throat, melting into his embrace. He dragged his teeth and tongue along the column of her neck,  teeth sinking into the lobe of her ear. “And you’re still thinking about it now, aren’t you?” His hand loosened in her hair, pulling the shirt from her shoulders. He stepped in front of her, looming tall, one hand flicking the clasp of her bra. A finger tipped her face upward, his lips brushing against the side of her face. “Aren’t you?” His teeth snapped near her ear.

Her body began to tremble, skin flushed. Seokjin stepped back, taking note of her progress. There was visible irritation that crossed his face causing her eyes to fall to the floor again. 

“Strip.” He stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt. She knew he was displeased; she took her time clumsily, stumbling out of her clothing. Naked, she clasped her hands in front of her. He made another irritated sound, jerking his thumb toward the bedroom. “Position.” 

She felt like a baby giraffe stumbling to find her footing while scrambling toward the bedroom. Panting, she closed the door with a gentle click. She had mere seconds to find herself. She knew that if she chose anything too light. It would make things worse. But she did not want light - the tension from work was riding her so hard. She knew what she needed - knew what she wanted. There was a sizable ornate armoire with multiple drawers, multiple modes, and routes the desired result. A few items from each drawer were plucked and placed on the large four-poster bed. 

She managed to use the Tossa jute hemp rope to make hasty double column tie knots along her abdomen. It was a little more challenging to get the line to flex under her breasts. Her fingers were trembling as the sudden plod of footsteps approached the door.

“I’m coming in, Pixie.” The doorknob softly clicked as she dropped to her knees. Jin leaned against the doorway clad in a pair of silk pajama bottoms. She could imagine the flex of his biceps as he crossed his arms, the up tilt of his lips as he smirked. His gaze locked to the top of her head before sliding to the assortment of tools for the evening.

There was a slight furrow in his brow as he turned back to her. “Pixie, are you sure about this?” There was no hesitation in the rapid nod. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone this hard.” He entered, walking past her to let his fingers tickle the ridges of a rather sizable anal plug. He knew his little trooper could handle it. She risked a glance upward, following the narrow of his hips up to the broad flare of his shoulders. 

“Tell me, Pixie.” He cast a sidelong glance over his shoulders. Their gazes locked as she held her breath. “Tell Sir the magic word.”

She took a deep breath through her nose. She felt the tension bubble in her muscles, a thin stache of sweat above her quivering lip. “I consent - Hummingbird.” Jin felt electric tingles journey across his skin. 

“What’s the safe word, Pixie?” He grabbed the hooded mask crumpled on the bed. A deft turn had him looming above her. 

“Pixie Stick.” 

“Good girl. When do you use your safe word?” He knelt in front of her, pulling the mask over her face, drenching her world in darkness. 

“When it’s too much.” She spoke in a shuddering whisper. “Wh-when I don’t feel safe.”

“Good girl.” He knelt in front of her, checking the stability of the self-tied knots. He made an appreciative sound as he tightened them even more. She sucked in a breath with a slight increase of pressure near her ribs. Her spine straightened as the rope cradled her breasts, feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin. Her toes flicked against the carpet as he bound her wrists. 

A faint light attempted to penetrate the dark hood over her face. Open mouth pants, the threading pulse, and fidgeting - Jin paid attention to everything. “Stand.” Her head turned toward the sound of his voice as she willed her legs to move. She knew that any second longer than a reasonable response would yield some sort of punishment.

“Arms.” He put his hands on his hips as he circled her. She raised her arms above her head to the sound of a click. Another rope tugged at her wrist, stretching her upward with her feet flat on the ground.

Jin grabbed the anal plug slathering it in warm lube. “Bend.” She was able to slide her body forward so that her ass presented to him. Lubed fingers brushed against her puckered entrance. His finger ghosting in faint circles, causing her clit to throb. She clenched around, nothing wanting sensation. “Relax.” Smack! The slap on the right ass cheek caused her to gasp. The fluttering of her asshole nearly pulled his finger inside. “Relax, Pixie. You know I need to prepare you.” He scolded, finger still rubbing lube around that hole and down the length of her ass. 

One finger inserted.

Her toes curled, a sigh of almost relief, as he finally gave her something. He was inside up to the knuckle. She chewed on the meat of her bottom lip, pushing against the finger. Smack! The slap on the left ass cheek had her locked around his finger. 

Two fingers inserted to the knuckle. 

There were whimpers, whines, and shifting as she fought for control. She wanted to move, tried to fuck herself into oblivion on the slender digits assaulting her insides. Jin murmured to her as he scissored her open. He could hear the sticky residue of her slick every time her thighs rubbed together. And each time she shifted, it earned her a slap on the ass. The skin was warm and red, to the point that the scrape of his nails caused her to shudder. 

Three fingers inserted past the knuckle. Jin flexed his fingers, dragging them in and out of her slowly. The prickle of goosebumps, the hardening of her nipples, and the way her pretty mouth hung open ready for something to fill it. 

“Look at you, my good little slut. Do you feel my fingers, hmm?” He’s positioned behind her, leaning against her back to whisper into her ear. “Feel all three of my fingers in this greedy hole of yours?” There are only whimpers in response. She could feel the massive outline of his cock rubbing between the crease of her ass. The jolt of sensation had her hips shifting back even more. “That’s right, Pixie. Take my fingers just like that.”

Her mouth partly agape as she rocked back, pushing him deeper inside. Smack! Smack! Two quick slaps, one to each ass cheek, had her toes curling. Jin yanked his fingers free, placing the head of the anal plug against her. There were two ridges to pass before full insertion, and the first one passed by quickly. He watched that hole clamp as he pushed toward the second ridge. Smack! Smack! Two more slaps distracted her as the second ridge disappeared inside of her. “Tsk, look at this. No resistance at all. I could probably put two in this slutty little hole, couldn’t I?” She answered with a broken moan as he pushed the plug in the rest of the way. The flat black base suctioned to the lube covered skin.

Jin stepped away to admire his work, the slight imprint of hand and fingers from slapping the skin. It was a heated shade of red, scatterings of goosebumps, and the faintest flush covering her body. He grabbed the remote, turning it onto the lowest setting. It was more of an irritation than anything; a vague sensation that, after a while, teased but never let you fall over the edge. It was a long, drawn-out, push to ecstasy.

She whimpered, pushing her hips outward until she was nearly bent over. Jin slapped her ass, causing her posture to correct. “Don’t. Move.” He tutted the slip up as he surrounded her again. “You want sensation, Pixie? I can oblige.”

Her lips quivered at the seemingly generous offer – but she knew better. She could barely hear the shuffle of an object across the floor. “Straight, Pixie.” She rose until her arms were above her head again. She felt something slip between her legs; the feel of fresh leather tickled her inner thighs. She knew what this was, and her body trembled visibly. “Straddle.”

She waited one second too long before long fingers wrapped around the column of her neck. The air cut for just a quick minute before forcing her downward. Her mind was fuzzy with that timid vibration inside of her. Her inner thighs were sticky, smearing slick all over the leather-bound seat. “Straddle, Pixie.”

She licked the thin sheen of sweat above her lip before sliding up the length of the Sybian. The cold surface was causing her to pant.  “Forward, slowly now.” She could hear the amusement in his voice. Jin pushed down on her shoulders, adding his weight, so her cunt lips spread.  Dragging her clit against the leather before he lifted her, quickly, letting her hover over the plastic nub attachment. He placed two fingers against her lips, “Suck.” She obliged, eagerly, letting her tongue slide against and between his fingers. She made sure to push all the spit she could muster onto the length of his finger. So much so that a glimmering trail arced away from her lips.

Jin’s fingers pressed down the length of her body until they reached her pussy. Spreading the lips as that plastic nub barely slipped inside of her. Muscles burning with the attempt to hold the position – he made matters worse, tapping her clit mercilessly. Her body clenched on the probe in her ass. Her body in a flux pushing against the probe, thrusting into the rhythmic tap against her lip, and wanting to impale herself on that vibrating attachment.

Jin watched her hips rotate as he activated the majority of her erogenous zones in one go. He pushed her down onto the plastic nub, tall enough to just reach the little wet spot inside of her. Jin had to lick his lips at the thought of her pussy convulsing around him.

Soon.

He grabbed the remote for the Sybian activating a strong pulsating wave of vibration. The anal plug vibration turned up to the next level while he leaned down to capture her nipple between his teeth. Those two fingers still tapping in time with the pulse of the fuck machine. Her jaw went slack only two minutes into vibration.

“Are you going to cum, Pixie?” He observed her, the speckle of goosebumps, the quiver in her thighs. “Tell Sir, are you going to cum?” He rubbed against her clit harder.

“Yes! Yes, Sir! This one wants to cum!” She shrieked to his amusement. There was a shameless swivel of her hips as she clenched, clamped, and rubbed against the leather. It felt like a tornado was building in the pit of her stomach.

“Do you have permission to cum, Pixie?” Jin asked almost inquisitively.

She cried out as he pulled her off the vibrating nub. His hands clenched against her scalp, a fist full of hair as he bent her backward. “Do you have permission?” His teeth snapped as he tugged.

“N-No! No, Sir.” She received three rapid slaps to each ass cheek for her response.

“That’s right. You did not. Sit.” He guided her until she hovered above the furiously vibrating attachment. She tilted her head at the change in sound. Did he turn it up? She whimpered as the nub poked at her entrance again. He pushed her down, hands on her shoulders to make sure her lower half was fully connected.

Her thighs violently shook as she tried to hold that orgasm at bay. It was impossible; the saddle-like contraption was quaking at the maximum level vibration. She kept trying to shift her hips backward – only to engage the anal plug vibration. Moving forward, drove her clit onto a textured surface.

“Don’t you dare cum, Pixie,” he whispered in her ear. 

And that was her undoing – the first orgasm hit her like a mack truck. The force of it nearly lifted her off the plastic nub. . Her body bent backward, letting the rope hold her weight as her body convulsed. The second orgasm hit, and she went rigid, her body snapping forward as her abdominal muscles tightened.  

The third orgasm hit, keeping her stiff as she fought to keep her sanity. Jin turned up the vibration on the anal plug spurring her into a fourth orgasm – a lewd wet sound echoed as she squirted against the intrusion. The walls of her pussy felt like they were rippling, and the waves spread across her body.

“That’s right, let me hear you, Pixie.” Jin stood back, watching her crumble. There was something sexy above the battle waging in her body. Does she slide backward against the butt plug vibration? Does she slide forward onto that textured plate with her clit grinding against the grooves? Or does she center her weight, letting that nub vibrate harder against her g-spot? His eyes were dark, hooded, and lust-blown as he palmed the girth of his cock against the silk of his pants. Precum dribbled out, causing that wet spot to grow even darker.

The persistent stimulation had her legs locking against the side of the machine. Juicy noises as the vibrations fluttered the slick dripping down the surface of the leather. She screeched when the sensation became too much. Jin pulled the rope to lift her body from the contraption. “Look at this mess!” He laughed. Her body jerked and trembled as the very air assaulted her. “I didn’t teach you to be this messy, Pixie.”

The slack in the line let her stumble to her knees. There was not a moment of reprieve when she felt hands on the back of her neck. Her nostrils filled with her essence as her face pressed against the moist leather. “Clean it up.” Her tongue slithered out in broad strokes to sop up her orgasm. Jin’s abdomen tightened as he watched the beautiful pink of her tongue pick up every bead of moisture.

Jin released her while steadily working his cock in short, teasing strokes. A hissing breath sucked in between his teeth with one hard pull. He reached down to pull her up by her hair. He leaned in to let his tongue move against the sticky residue on her lips and chin. He met her moan by sticking his tongue between her lips. She sucked vigorously, passionate pulls against that long muscle had his cock twitching again.

“You taste so fucking good, Pixie,” Jin purred against her mouth. “I should reward you.”

He turned up the vibration on the anal plug again. A long, salacious moan into his chest was the thanks he got. She was gulping for air, her body stirred up in sensation again. Her breasts jiggled as she teetered on the edge of an orgasm that just wouldn’t come. He tucked his fingers into the rope, knotted against her solar plexus, and gave a gentle push.

 Her balance fucked due to over stimulation, she fell back against the bed too easy. The pressure of laying on her back made her hyper-aware of the anal plug vibrating away inside of her. Her toes still digging into the ground as the click and whir of something else made her tilt her head.

The sound of a drill locking caused her to stop moving. Jin stood at the foot of the bed, watching her gyrate her lower off. The puffy, pink, and glistening space of her pussy made him lick his lips. He slapped her inner thigh, once – twice – three times. He watched her attempt to curl and escape as he pushed her legs to bend at the knees.

Jin tilted his head as he licked the tip of the dildo in his hand. He made lewd, loud sucking noises that caused her to focus. She turned her head in that direction, the hood barely letting any light filter through. But she knew that sound – it was familiar. She whimpered because she knew what he was doing – could almost imagine it.

Jin made sure to drool all over the soft veiny surface of the fake cock. The dick left his mouth with an obscene pop before he lined it up with her body. The toy stretched her wide, made her full.  He licked his lips as he put the drill into forwarding motion. The drill-do had become a favorite toy for them, honestly. If she was ever too impatient, it was easy to lube up one of many drill attachments for a quick release.

But now? Jin’s trigger finger had that bit stuck in an agonizing pace. He could see the cream building on the attachment with each soft drag of the dildo inside of her. “Look at you, I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He slapped her inner thighs again as she clenched down on the toy. He turned up the vibration on the anal plug again – and this time, there was no ignoring it. The wave was too powerful to ignore, no longer an irritating buzz. That, coupled with the vibrating twist of the drill-do, caused her body to shake again.

Then to add insult to injury? Jin leaned down to purse his lips around her abused clit. The sound that she made caused his cock to leak. It was a sound between mania and euphoria. The world was white behind the dark of that mask. Her body convulsed as her mind went blank. Drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as she twitched into a howling orgasm. Her head whipped back and forth as the speed of the drill assisted toy pounded into her g-spot. Her wrists contorted against the rope, causing the skin to redden as she pulled. Jin pressed his hand down on her abdomen to keep her still as his tongue ran circles around that oversensitive nub.

He could feel her body quivering beneath his hand as she came. The motion so strong it forced the toy from inside her ravaged pussy. There was a strong spray of wet orgasm against his chest as the toy plopped out. It splattered against his pectorals and chin, his tongue flicking out to catch it. The drill powered toy fell to the ground as he scrambled out of his pants.

A low growl rumbled his chest as he pushed her body further onto the bed. He yanked the mask off her head to see her eyes rolling back into her head. She was incoherent as he raked his fingers across her torso. There was nothing in her world but him when the light no longer obscured her vision. He slapped at her breasts as he rubbed her essence along the length of his cock.

 She placed her feet on his thighs, tilted her hips up to accept him. He thumped her clit with the angry head of his cock. He spat down between their bodies before pushing inside of her. He couldn’t wait any longer. He slid all that thick, rigid girth inside of her at once. His fingers dug bruising possession into hips as he felt her flutter against him.  He could hear the grinding of teeth in his ears as they both fought for that moment of stillness. The dull vibration of the anal plug the only noise as neither body moved.

She sighed, soft and silky in response to Jin’s hungry grunt. He swore his eyes were rolling in his skull. Jin lifted her hips to pull her along the length of his cock. She was used as a sleeve, squeezing and milking him. He rotated her hips, pushing them back, bringing them forward and pounding into her. Sweat dripped down the tip of his nose as he focused on the connection of their bodies. He could feel that pulsation of the anal plug from inside of her. He pressed his hand down on her abdomen, dark eyes lifting to her face.

And there he saw it. Her eyes were dark, almost unfocused as he fucked into that battered space. Her body was like molten liquid, so warm and pliable. The tension had completely dissolved from muscles, present in the moment of their connection. They made animalistic sounds as each thrust came more energetic and harder than the one before it. 

His fingers pinched and twisted her nipples as his thrusts practically lifted her hips from the bed with their strength. There was another orgasm that had her body feeling light as a feather. Jin reached underneath her to tug at the anal plug. He pulled it partway out, and she jerked, causing it to fall out entirely.

Her eyes popped open with a shrill sound as her nerves seemed to fire off all at once. Jin had to drop the butt plug to hold her hips down. Tears streamed from her eyes as she gasped for air. She felt waves of pleasure spread outward from her ass. It felt like a stone disturbing the quiet surface of a lake. The waves pushed from head to toe as she bucked into another orgasm.

Catapulted into subspace, she cried through the pleasure.

“F-fu-FUCK?!” Jin roared as she clamped down him. He fell forward with hands on either side of her as thick ropes of cum painted her insides. He panted as she rotated her hips, trying to milk him for every drop left, and then some.

Her hips slowed, even though he started to soften inside of her. Yet he had tiny-aftershocks as she settled. He hovered above her before he reached up to thumb the tears away from her eyes.

Their hearts were beating hard and loud; their ragged breaths evened out.

“Are you OK, Pixie?” Jin’s voice was hoarse from the orgasmic rush.

Her vision slightly blurred with the remnant of tears, but she nodded in response.

“Better?” He untied her wrists.

“Mhmm.” A lazy grin spread across her face when the weight of the rope vanished. 

Jin took his time untangling the knots and lines around her body. He continued to tease, dragging the rough texture against her oversensitive skin. She purred and moaned her satisfaction with each new sensation that rushed through her. He stepped off the bed when she was utterly unbound. Her arms stretched upward, she turned over, prepared to sleep for the next two days.

“Come now, Pixie. You know we don’t sleep in a messy bed.” She sighed heavily, but he was correct. She finally took a look at the room – the Sybian dried and sticky. The drill-do glistening nearby and the wet stains on the blanket. She knew the sheets were equally soaked. He smirked, offering a hand to help her stand, “Come on, a bath for you while I clean up.”

She looked like a newborn foal unable to use its legs out of the womb. Jin tucked an arm under her knees, lifting her upward with little effort. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, “Thank you, Sir.”

Her body felt right in his arms – free from that burden—safe in the arms of the only man who could grant her that kind of absolution.

The kind of cathartic release that sets the soul in its proper place.