Oxygen fans flames, gives them lift to burn stronger and hotter, gives them something to consume, to draw into its searing heat. 

Taehyung is that oxygen. Searing and branding his touch and the memory of the consuming pleasure that thrummed through every inch of my body, boneless as I snagged against him, body steadied by the cradle of his touch that in that moment had softened from a blaze to the heat of a hearth; welcoming and protective and coaxing, lulling to let my eyes flutter, fingers curling around his arm when he lifted me up. Head resting against his shoulder, feeling the bed sink before his weight settled over mine, weighted grip curling across my torso, head tilting close and lips brushing a kiss to my jaw.             

“Sleep (Y/N)… I’ll protect your honour~” teasing and warm. 

And in those heavy vestiges of loose limp haziness post-pleasure and the lure of his sweetly beckoning deep voice, I found my lips curving up, eyes peering at him, fingers lazily brushing back loose curls from his face. 

“Even from your own wicked intentions Lord Kim?” I crooned, feeling the brush of warm lips across my own, indulging in the haze of sweet unhurried kisses, lazily exploring and chasing each other’s touch and the intimacy of it, feeling the heat of his body seep through the thin fabric of the nightgown. Tongue sweeping over the seam of my lips till they parted easily, tongue curling to his, body turning to face him and hand inching from his nape to silky soft dark curls that entangled with my fingers; swallowing the soft groan exhaled against me. 

“No promises there… not when I have every intention to carry out every wicked intent sweetheart. Every fantasy, every dream, every indulgence. Several times.” A heady promise brushed ever so gently against the waiting heat of my lips. 

And entangled we’d fallen asleep, his jacket and shoes discarded, shirt laces loosened and the cocoon of his arms holding me through the night, sleep a lull that the naturally warm musky scent of him brought, encased in his hold. 

Stirring to faint streams of sunlight pouring in, dawn break, as my body shifted on the bed, sheets entangled around the two of us, knowing that beyond the soundproof doors and walls, the brothel was awakening—sleepily starting its day. 

Taehyung had to leave. 

I didn’t know how he’d made it onto the upperfloor anyways, not sure how he’d gotten up when I wasn’t meant to be having appointments; done for the day. 

But it meant he was at risk of being caught, body twisting in the circle of his arms to wake him. 

Hesitating at the sight of his smoothened out expression; soft and unguardedly relaxed and him. Fingers achingly gentle as they brush across the curve of his cheek, fingers brushing against soft warmth, palm grazing his jaw, feeling the ever so faint brush of stubble as I murmur softly. 

“Taehyung—Taehyung get up. You need to leave.” Hissed urgency as I try shake him awake, other hand gripping his arm, trying to tug myself free from the entangled mess of limbs that we’d become during the night, feeling the brush of fabric against skin as I continue to nudge him. 

“Taehyung get up! If you get caught there’ll be hell to pay!” I hiss, nudging at him, body squirming to get free, breath hitching when his arm bands tighter across my torso, groaning as he drags me closer, head burrowing against my neck and mumbling sleepy protests. 

It’s endearing how whiny and plaintive he sounds in his insistence to get sleep but it’s a feeling I can’t relish or indulge in too long, shaking him awake and trying to coax his face away from being buried against my neck, groans reverberating against skin. 

“S too early.”  

“You need to leave before everyone wakes or you’ll get caught… and I don’t fancy explaining to Lim why there’s an unbooked customer in my quarters.” 

“I’ll leave later—no-one comes in right? It’ll be fine.” He insists, other arm snaking around to splay across my back and tug me closer, leg worming between mine, hopelessly restricted by fabric, protesting huffs brushed against my throat. 

“Taehyung you—” when my body stills at the sound of the door being pushed open, voice cheerful as it brushes through, curling close. 

“Baby I was thinking we could head to the bathhouse for a massage session before—” voice petering off when I twist frantically, body sagging with relief as I peer over Taehyung’s shoulder, seeing a pair of eyes widen before shock and alarm sears across his face, door closed hurriedly before he rushes forward. 

Eyes scanning the slumbering figure around me before comprehension crosses his face, a mixture of both bemusement and worry flitting across his face. 

Unceremoniously giving a rougher shove to the man curled against me, a rough groan of surprise as he falls onto his back, eyes blinking open and staring up at Mimi’s body curved over the bed, brows raised. 

“Late night appointment (Y/N)?” Curious and liltingly sweet. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but I’m a tryst at the very least.” Voice low and gruff, deliciously husky as he rubs his eyes. 

It should be alarming or mortifying at the least how quickly and easily his words and tone stokes heat low in my gut, embers flaring into liquid tendrils of heat that meld with flesh and pool in the blood that buzzes through my veins. 

Legs instinctively closing and core clenching. 

Remembering his feel, his touch, his grip, his crooned dulcet words as he held me apart and made me watch as I fell apart to his touch. Made me look, body trembling and back arching, writhing to escape the pleasure that he didn’t coax out once but several times in succession—stopping only when my legs buckled, crumpling against him, his body a hard barrier of muscle and sinewed limbs that cradled me to him. 

Minnie’s eyes sparkle with mischief and tease, glancing knowingly at me, staring at the unconscious gesture with full knowledge of exactly how my body was betraying me under the thin fabric. 

Eyes settling on the curves of my breasts, the only fitted shape of the nightgown, watching as Taehyung watched blearily, hair mussed and hints of skin peeking past the open stays of his shirt. Honeyed tanned skin peeking through. 

“Should I be offended… that you’ve let another man warm your bed when you know its me without fail~ or rather are you finding someone to fit the second best role honey?” a cooed croon that makes the sleepiness abate slightly in Taehyung’s eyes, darkening as he remains splayed, watching the scene unfold in front of him. 

Full lips curving dangerously and sensually, a hum in his voice that makes my body tilt to him, eyes narrowed with suspicion at the seeds of intentional jealousy he’s planting… letting take root and bloom in the mind of the man whose body shifts closer slightly, a hand bodily thrown over my torso and dragging me back against him, body twisted so easily as he spoons me from behind. 

Head hooking over my shoulder and when my own tilts to peer at him, it’s to see a slightly challenged and taunting gleam in Taehyung’s eyes as he stares back at Minnie’s grin. 

“I have no intention of letting the title of being second claim me boy toy, I want it all.” Drawled gruffly, not expecting the weight of his body to insistently meld to mine once more, leg thrown over mine, bodies flush and when he bucks his hips against me, it’s to feel the growing hardness against me. 

Hand unashamedly snaking around my torso and palming the curve of my breast, a fierce rough squeeze before long slender fingers roll the hardening nub between them, a sting that morphs into a slight throb at how blatantly he manhandles, in full sight of Minnie, cupping the curve and murmuring against my ear. 

“I shouldn’t have made you watch yourself fall apart with my touch… I should’ve made you look at your pretty boy as I ruined you. Should’ve made him watch how I was the one you were thrashing for, that I was the one who your body craved.” Hips slowly rutting against me, eyes fluttering at the mixture of pleasure threaded through with the sting of his touch, rough and abrasive, fabric brushing against aching buds. 

“What a gem you’ve caught sweetheart, shame he wasn’t aware of how much we love putting on shows together…” Minnie voices coos dangerously, a beguiling lilt to the softness of his voice, eyes dark and observing the rough touch with a crooked tilt to full lips; promisingly thrilling. 

“But—she’s right. Shouldn’t have stayed to wait for daybreak… you’re lucky it was me and not one of the patrons.” Eyes chiding and tinged with disapproval. 

It makes my stomach twist, realising just how close he’d been to being caught. 

How had it been someone else and not Minnie barging through, the situation would be entirely different. 

Not expecting for Min’s body to bracket over as he tilts further over us. 

“But… if you carry a fair penny, I’m sure you could be extended the invite to the bathhouse where we were going to go before our appointment.” 

Almost roughly brushing Taehyung’s hand over, fingers deft as they pluck the hardened nub, twisting with a practiced ease that makes a shameful sound of want bubble past my lips, touch fierce and brutally merciless as he works his hand over my breast. 

Victorious and triumphant at the arch of my back, hips pushing back against the growing bulge grinding slowly against me, at the keening breath. 

“That’s how you do it pretty jewel. And if you’re good, if you’re a quick learner—maybe you’ll truly learn what giving pleasure feels and looks like.” Drawing me up against him, hands both gentle and possessive, snaking around me, hands skimming across my side as he peers at Taehyung still sprawled across the sheets. 

The air crackles and thickens, pulses with the weighted stares of the two of them turned on each other, of them dually combined as they settle on me. 

It’s disorienting and new. 

The touch and sight of a familiar body I’ve countlessly fallen into bed with, whose fierce protectiveness and just as equally intense appreciation of me, my body pulses heavily. 

Contrasted and clashing with the heady attraction and visceral tug I feel towards Taehyung, the way his hands are so new as they mould to my body, not yet fully aware how to make my body melt and surrender entirely, not aware the pleasures I enjoyed, the filthy fantasies I had. And yet… yet he was still in sync, so entirely attuned to me, his body just as responsive and reacting to mine and falling alongside me in this aching gaping chasm of pleasure. 

And somehow. 

Somehow I’ve been caught between both of them, Minnie’s body caging mine as he examines Taehyung’s body slowly moving off the bed, drawing on his heeled boots, that when he does stand; rumpled with sleep, clothes dishevelled, hair a tangled mess of curls, that extra height makes him seemingly tower. Powering height that comes with a fierce aura of confidence and charisma. 

“Guess I’ll be stumbling from a tavern to a bathhouse in a while. For the pleasures of… educating myself.” A low sultry brush of words, hand snaking around my waist and a firm tug that has my feet stumbling as I tilt against him. No longer flush against Minnie. 

See his fingers painstakingly gentle brush hair away from my shoulder, eyes dark and gleaming. 

“Can’t wait to see what lies under the poor excuse of a nightgown.” 

Oxygen fans flames, gives them lift to burn stronger and hotter, gives them something to consume, to draw into its searing heat. 

And I’m reminded… as he leaves with a sauntered grace and wicked promise lingering in the air between us, that Taehyung… Taehyung is that fire. 

------ 

“Did you tell him that we have a shared appointment with Namjoon later?” Minnie asks, hands deft as they draw the billowing fabric over my head, unashamedly staring at my body and eyes crinkling in a disarmingly sweet way, lips twisting into an exaggerated pout. 

“Not a single mark left behind on this beautiful canvas? However would I know just where he’s touched… where to touch better?” teasing and warm, lips turning gentler when my hands undo the loose shirt he’d worn to sleep, drawing it off his lithe, muscled frame, fingers grazing across the dark ink he’d gotten needled into skin, how much he loved having lips pressing to it…. or recently, more and more, loved the coloured bruised marks Namjoon left behind on them. 

I remembered how deliciously sensitive the area of skin was eve now, as if remembering the hypersensitivity that came with it after it’d healed, keening when his body writhed under me, hips rocking steadily up and down as his bucked needily—hands clamps across my hips, tongue tracing the inked letters. 

I shake my head, fingers reaching for a thin robe, drawing it over his body. 

“Was I meant to? Is it important?” I ask, head tilting as I let my eyes drift over pale, soft skin tautly pulled over muscle, fingers skimming over the toned definition of his abdomen, nails raking and watching his body jerk slightly, hips pushing forward. 

His eyes sparkle, flickering with jolts of warmth and mischief that entangle messily. 

“Not at all. A mere detail… I’ll try not tire you out so much.” Winking playfully as his hands snake around to grip my backside, the pads of his fingers gripping fiercely as he bodily drags me forward, lips searing and promising against my own, mouth hot and heavy and enticingly familiar, plush heat that forces my lips to the shape of his bruising touch, consumes my mouth and crushes our lips together. 

“Can’t have you too limp to take both of us later.” Grinning against my lips as he leans in once more for a briefer peck, murmur brushed against heated flesh. 

The weight of his words remain heavy and hovering over me as he brushes past to move to the private enclosed bathing space he’d booked for our shared day together. 

It was closed off from public view, closed off from plain sight—entirely different to the more voyeuristic setting of the majority of the bathhouse, where showering or pleasuring was a common sight to move past. 

And as I move down the hallway, the sleepy, slow start to business has in no way hindered the few stragglers merely content to observe others bathing or languidly swimming, the writhing entangled sight of limbs pressed close and bodies splayed across marbled tiles, bodies glistening. 

Ducking down a familiar set of winding tiled paths to the more private sections, ears catching onto the sound of low voices, merging together, eyes catching to the sight of both of them already there, watch Min’s hands slowly tug the fabric from his body and sink into the waters, fabric abandoned in a small pile on the warmed tiles, the sharp lines and angles of his body submerging into the deep tub, head tilting back as he peers at Taehyung. 

“Not too… coy to enter a tub with a man are you?” a taunting lilt that’s answered almost immediately by the shuck of fabric, rippling muscles and broad back coming into full view. 

It’s the first time I realise… seeing him utterly bare and my eyes drink in the sight greedily, hungering over it and aching to commit the sight to memory and touch later, I wanted to familiarise how his skin and body felt under my touch, under the tips of my fingers and the splay of my palms, wanted to know whether his back was as firm to dig nails into, whether his body bracketing mine would hide it and pin it entirely. 

Watch him sink into the waters, leaning against the opposite end, their gazes held across the distance, across the waters that slosh as they settle, focus snapped when I move closer, fingers fiddling with my own loose tie, drawing it away from my body slowly. 

Realising that their gazes track my every movement, simmering heat in the dark depths of their eyes, drifting over the curves of my body, at the way the steam of the heated water brushes against pebbling skin, warm teasingly drifting and caressing my body as I move close. Ankle dipping into the water, heat lapping at skin, before sinking in, the warmth of it seeping through, unsure which way to face, which way to turn as I let my body sink deeper into the water, chasing away the flickering remnants of the slight chill, wishing I had a ribbon to tie up the strands of hair that turn sodden, plastering to wet skin. 

Choose to ignore them, hands brushing through sodden hair, moving it away from my face, fingers grazing flower petals; the different hues of colour floating on the surface, disturbed by the ripples of movements, water streaming in rivulets down the curves and lines of my body as I straighten slightly. 

“Not gonna rinse off?” I ask, voice teasing as I let my eyes flit from one to the other, eyes lingering on how starkly different they are, dark curls brushing his jaw, broad shoulders unstained from lightly scented water, the ripples and sloshes doing nothing to hide the expanse of his torso, the length of his legs stretched out under the settled layer of petals. 

“When I have every intention of soiling you why bother getting soaked for the wrong reasons baby girl?” Minnie croons, pushing away from the edge, advancing with fluid movements, eyes curiously drifting over, a slight confusion with how Taehyung doesn’t move. 

Though his jaw tightens, the sharp angle more pronounced, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits that in that instance look predatory, tracking the movement, the ripple of water and limbs as he moves closer, a possessive familiar hand gripping my hip and turning me towards him, hands gentle as he brushes his hands up my arms, cupping my cheeks. 

Nose brushing against mine and lips scorching and sweet, the faint taste of crushed mint curling across my tongue when his slips in without preamble, lazily stroking and tracing shapes and lines onto skin, every touch familiar, every curl of his tongue against mine, sweeping through my mouth and coaxing a groan has him pushing firmer against me, hands snaking around to rub his knuckles up and down the spine. 

Whilst there’s always been an ease, an automatic synchrony the two of us fall into wherever we decide to take our release, our outlet in each other… there’s something new and thrilling and tentatively curling thicker at the weight of a heavy gaze I feel trained on me, water sloshing and rippling when Minnie crowds against me, body leaning inwards, the hard planes of him pressing to my soft curves. 

It makes my back arch to feel the broad splay of a hand that skims from my shoulder, down a teasingly distracting down to the middle of my back, the slosh of water jostling around skin as finally… finally Taehyung moves forward, his presence a strong tug that I feel even without turning, body jolting at the possessive touch of his hand snaking around my front to yank me back, bodily pressed flush to him, lips drawing in gulps of air, swollen and bitten, the dark gleam in Minnie’s eyes giving away… that this. This is him just beginning, lust not even beginning to crowd his eyes, desire flickering; dangerous embers that stoke the heat of his touch as he watches slender, ringed fingers inch under the surface of the water. 

Unashamed and wasting not an instance to cup me, a touch that wormed between my thighs brings back the searing ache of heat to bloom low in my gut; the touch both daring and confident. 

“Because there’s something more thrilling about seeing her getting ruined and slicker because of my touch… to see her stain release across her skin and mine.”  Taehyung croons, voice dripping molten heavy intent. 

Head hooking over my shoulder and fingers tracing idly over the inside of my thighs, lips pressing chastely to my shoulder. 

“A stained release washed away and only the memory remains.” Fingers tracing slow circles, a low rumbled hum against skin at the small twist of my body, at the way my legs part, unconsciously chasing the touch deeply, trying to tilt to it and feeling the huff of laughter; amused and taunting as his touch remains deliberately light. 

As if my pleasure is simply a show… as if to show my pleasure is an exhibit and he’s indulging Min. 

Whether it’s foolishness or bravery or cocky confidence or pure challenge I don’t know but it makes Minnie move closer, body wading through the slight distance to press forward, my body sandwiched and pinned between the two of them. 

The taut press of muscles from both behind and front, his hands moving to cup my breasts, fingers a bruising tug and pinch that has my hips twisting, body trying to tug free from the merciless touch that begins to mould the soft curve to the broad rough splay of his palms, unable to move away than the way Taehyung’s hand remains wormed between my legs, stopping them from closing; the maddeningly slow pace contrasted with the harsh tug and twist of fingers that abuse the sensitive hardened nubs, the cry torn out my throat at the mixture of sensations. At the mere beginning of sensations and touches, knowing a much more intense onslaught bubbles between this playful rivalry sparking between them. 

Their touch heat and liquid fire that turns the gentle lull of scented water into a deceiving calm before the inferno engulfs me. 

Water often heals, soothes, cleanses. 

But flames burn, flames scorch and leave a seared print behind that no water, no salve and no ointment can fix. It can leave behind a reminder of its ferocious intensity and carnal promise to engulf everything in its wake. 

And I never liked gentleness. 

Preferred the rough scorch instead. 

So when their bodies press closer, feeling the slow drag of hips against mine, heated flesh moulding to skin and rutting lazily, and my front is plastered with another body, firm and muscular, equally stoked and getting riled up… I know I’d rather their touches seared and burned and left their marks behind. 

MINNIE POV: 

There’s something deeply satisfying about being the one to be able to drink in the shift of her expressions as she twists away, eyes fluttering and teeth pinching and clamping onto her bottom lip to stifle the full volume of the sinfully enticing sound that spills past when her hips buck forward slightly, trying to push closer to the long fingers that trace slow circles across her centre, his eyes trained on me. 

Something challenging and scrutinising in them. 

Something that riles and provokes but also makes the need to prove just how much more adept and intimately familiar I am with her, how much more I can wind her up, tighten that coil to a point… to a peak when the snap washes over her body in shuddering waves as she writhes and sobs with the intensity and force of it. 

It’s almost… amusing how much of a hold he believes he has when really and truly he has to learn just how to make her shatter, just how to touch to coax out the most delightful of shivers, trembling as she tries to keep her responses at bay until she can’t. 

With a lover, so easily entangled with my body and desires as (Y/N), sounds were just one of the many bodily reactions; visceral, tangible and real that let the pleasure ebb and flow freely between us. There wasn’t anything feigned between us, there wasn’t a force of fantasies on each other, there wasn’t anything tricky or messy, it was simply giving into the base, carnal desire of not just wanting pure relief and ecstasy that came without expectations, came with illusions and deceptions. But it was that safety… that understanding we could be utterly open and wholly bare in front of each other… that was why I knew how to read every small shift in expression, every response… knowing her pleasures perhaps more intimately than my own. 

So watching her eyes burn with a heady heat stronger and more intense than I’ve ever seen has both competitive rivalry bubbling playfully in my veins and has me realising more and more just how strong the attraction and want and desire sears through between the two of them. 

But seeing the sight of Taehyung, curled beside her, in my spot on her bed, cuddled close where I should’ve been before, where I was meant to have slipped into before waking her… left a slightly sore spot, stoked it at the bold defiance as he splayed around her, limbs wrapping around her, sleepy blinking eyes turning unblinking and gleaming. 

Taunting. 

Mocking. 

And it reminds me of the same playfully riling gaze that (Y/N) sports on shared appointments with Namjoon, watching his body clench, thick thighs held open by me as her body shifted between them, peering up from dark thick lashes that blinked coyly even as her mouth bobbled around him and took him deeper, my lips curving up at the guttural groan even if I wanted to be the one feeling his release stain my tongue, wanted him to come undone with my lips closed around him and hands gripping at the tense muscles that strained and tried to close as breathless pleas spilled past his lips, crushed messily against hers when he dragged her upright. Her eyes silently gleaming with a wicked tease. 

I do it better. 

And I want to do the same, want to look Taehyung in the eyes and have him know that I do it better. I ruin her better. You may bring her pleasure but I give it to her until she’s wrecked from it 

Her body arches, trembling between the rough twist and pinch to nubs that harden under my touch, leaning forward to close my mouth over one, feeling and hearing the water slosh around us as her body bucks, teeth sinking into the fullness of her bitten red bottom lip, eyes holding mine. 

A plea and want in them, her hand moving to grip the wrist wormed between her thighs, head falling back when lips mouth at damp skin, moving from the curve of her shoulder to the column of her neck, teeth tugging at the unmarked skin, nipping and sucking a blooming mark into the crux of her shoulder. 

“Use your words sweetheart.” I croon when her mouth opens then shuts, her other hand sliding up my chest, resting on my shoulder and trying to draw me closer, her lips crowding against mine in response instead. Achingly sweet and equally as fiercely needing, hand winding around my nape to draw me closer, until my hand is trapped in the crush of my body to hers, close enough that I feel the brush of knuckles against my leg, where his hand continues to tease her, feel her breath shudder against me, trying to coax me closer by the fingers that slide into my hair, tangle themselves and draw me closer. 

Lips feverish and parting so sweetly but the flick and curl of her tongue against me is wicked and filthy and desperate, chasing my own, tongue sweeping through my mouth, my groan muffled against her, hand tightening around the curve of her breast, squeezing before letting go, hand grazing across the dip of her waist, down to the flare of her hip. 

Relish in the shuddered breaths when her lips finally tear away, open-mouthed kisses trailing from my jaw down to my collarbone, teeth pinching and nipping, tongue laving over the sting, a breathless murmur as she speaks. 

“Please… please Mi—” before she keens, a rough cry as her eyes flutter, head falling back at the sudden thrust of fingers, finally giving her that relief, that cruelly withheld satisfaction by plunging them to the hilt, to the second knuckles, eyes flashing and lips curved into a triumphant smirk. 

Grinning that she’d never gotten to say my name, harsh jolts against her as he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out, her grip tightening on my shoulder, her lips feverishly brushing against his throat, a whimpered moan as he abandons slow edged pleasure for the sake of quickly pushing her to a spiralling, dizzying peak, her body trembling under my touch as my hands continue to rove and move across her body, feeling the clench of her stomach; muscles tightening, breaths shaky. 

It’s a dizzying contrast to see the petals floating on the water, disturbed by the slosh as her hips buck, as he continues to drive his fingers in and out, his head tilting down to brush a kiss to her temple, tilting her head to the side to murmur to her, teeth nipping at the shell of her ear, fingers curved around her jaw and forcing her gaze to mine. 

“Look at him… look at him as I ruin you.” 

Her pupils dilating, swollen lips parted as she trembles against him, jolting when my fingers skim down to brush against her, a cursory swipe of fingers, the proof of her arousal washed away before I can even let my fingers rise to let her see, feel her legs clamp and tighten around his hand when I continue. Feel the tell-tale tremble in them when I push her legs open, gaze disapproving and mockingly chiding. 

“What do we say about legs darling?” I coo. 

“Keep them… keep them open.”  She manages to force out, my fingers gripping at the soft flesh, so wonderfully sensitive as I knead the inside of her thighs, tugging them open wider for me. 

I feel the small groan behind her as Taehyung’s eyes darken at her words, fingers gripping ever so slightly tighter at her jaw to keep her face locked with mine even though he clearly itches to let his hands move across her body, hungering to touch everywhere and coax out a slew of sounds past those pretty lips. 

“So why are you struggling? Is it because your pretty gem is here? Is it because we’re not giving enough attention?” I ask, hands aching to replace his, relishing in the mix of pleasure and satisfaction that she gives so readily and that Taehyung is so attuned and focused entirely on her. 

Her pleasure. Her ruining. 

Finally she seemed to have found a man who matched that calibre, that standard. 

Finally a man who saw and decided she came first. 

Her pleasure. 

Her desires. 

He was content with seeing her body arch as his fingers twist, a sharp thrust timed with the rough swipe of my own thumb that makes her whimper, breath ragged and chest heaving, the swollen, hardened stimulated tips of her nubs tightening as she convulses. 

Water streaming down her body as she shakes her head, eyes finally tearing away from me, tongue brushing against his thumb when it brushes over her lip. 

“Close… I’m close.”  

Watch his teeth scrape over the curve of her shoulder, closing around the skin after he murmurs a low rough command. 

“So fall apart for me.” 

Lips closing around her when she stiffens and her back arches, an enticing curve of her body, my mouth closing around the tip of her breast, teeth nipping and seeing his own close around her skin, clamped down on her as pleasure wracks her body and her legs close as much as they can, her hand gripping his wrist as he continues to draw his fingers in and out, prolonging the slam of ecstasy ebbing and flowing through her body, breathless as she squirms, pupils blown wide at the double stimulation she continues to get at her centre, tongue laving over the sting, a harsh suck as her other hand grips my hair, tight and painful but drawing me closer. 

Drawing me impossibly closer even as she pushes back against Taehyung. 

Wanted to meld with him just as much as she wants my body to fuse to hers, an entangled mess of limbs as she breaths steady, even and try draw under control when our hands retreat, voice level when she finally gasps out. 

“Impossible… you two are impossible.”  

I straighten up, bodies slick as I press close and tilt her face to me. 

“Correction… we’re far from over. I still haven’t showed pretty stud there what it is I do to you. And how to do you right.” Voice crooning and promising, her eyes darkening with lust blackening her gaze as desire and challenge sears through his. 

“It’s over when all you can do is ache it was gem doing everything I’ll do. And yet all you’ll cry is my name against his lips.” 

------- 

Her hands grip at his shoulders, cries muffled against Taehyung’s shoulders as she holds on, body pushed forward with every thrust, my hands dragging her hips back, every snap, every thrust, every roll pushing her body forward and flush against Taehyung’s, his hands snaked around her, cupping the back of her head and pressing kisses to her lips between moans, swallowing the sounds just as feverishly as she tilts to him for something to ground herself on. 

She’d gone from clutching the rim of the tub, water sloshing around us, torso pinned flat across the tiling, fingers scrabbling uselessly for purchase, the tall sight of Taehyung physically towering over her slumped figure as she cried out, body steadied by him, his lips pressing distracting open-mouthed kisses across skin, slowly but intently colouring her with endless marks and claims to the stunning canvas of her body taut with pleasure, crumpling against the edge when she went boneless, pushing back weakly at the slow deep circles my hips ground against hers, drawing it out more and more. 

And feeling her whimper when she felt my own arousal, hard and aching, still press against her, peering with a hazy pleasured bliss spread across her face but legs parting with invitation, hand reaching back to draw me closer and rocking her hips back, a slow unhurried lazy brush and eyes both warm and inviting and molten and enthralling. 

“Won’t you show him how to make me full?” 

But her words had petered off into a shaky exhale when my hips lay flush with hers, driving myself in until my chest was flush with her back, slowly rocking and murmuring against her. 

“When I’m done with you… your boy toy will have a hard time living upto the mess I’ll make of you.” 

Had drawn her back, head tilted to him, arm threading through hers and keeping them anchored behind her, her body taut and arched by the force of the movement, watching as she pled for him to get closer, her eyes filled with something much more, something heavier, clutching onto him for support when I let go. 

And now it was our names spilling past her lips, her hand dipping under the surface of the water, movements jerky and uncoordinated, his hips bucking forward with a hiss, groaning as she grips at his shoulders, mouthing shakily even as she continues to try get him to his peak of pleasure, body drawn back by the tug of my hands and pushed forward against him with the slam of my hips, keening when I whisper. 

“Want your boy toy to fill you up too? Want us both to have you? You could do it… always take me and Joon so well…” 

Relishing in seeing the darkening anger grow on his face, body moulding to hers more possessively, rutting against her and so clearly torn. 

Body taut with pleasure, evident in the bob of his throat and the wrecked look in his eyes as she grips him for purchase, pleasured cries absorbed against skin.  

There’s no mistaking or denying that he’d rather be the one to wring out the shaky moans from her, rather than just hold her, hands roaming with a fierce possessive grip—aching to give her everything. 

But he holds back. 

For some ridiculous reason he doesn’t though. 

Lips bruising against hers, large hands mapping her body and coaxing her cries to turn keening and pleading. 

There’s no denying that their bodies are new but enthralling to one another. 

Tugged by the heady urge to know just how to make each other melt and crumble. 

“I don’t have any intention of sharing her the first time I take her. Or for any times after that.” He grits out, head tilting back, cursing low when by lieu of answering to his fierce intent, she focuses on having him tremble against her just as much, his grip on her wet hair turning harsher, tilting her face up to his. 

“Possessive huh? How are you—how are you sharing now bandit?” voice breathy, trembling as her fingers dig into his arms, around the tight swell of his biceps. 

“Because I wanted to give your friend a final taste. When you’re mine, I won’t hand you over so easily. You’re mine to ruin, mine to wreck, mine to break with pleasure.” A dripping promise that has her legs trembling, seems to push her to another peak of pleasure. 

Pleasure morphing into oversensitivity, cries turning to whimpered pleas as she trembles, bold, fierce lover turned into a writhing mess, sandwiched against him as he takes in every expression, every shift, every movement and commits it to memory. 

Hands both possessive and tender when they tangle in soaking wet hair as her mouth closes around him, voice rough as he groans out her name and guides her deeper, her hands splayed across his thighs, parted for her, the silk robe around her dampened with the way her hair drips against it, body still damp with water and legs still trembling as she kneels on the tiles, body hovering over his. 

“So good for me. So pretty when you beg for more.” Voice a softer croon, seemingly lost in each other, his groan guttural when her fingers splay wider, thumbs sweeping over slick skin as she mouths at him. 

Hands coaxing her deeper. 

“But I won’t leave you with enough air in your lungs to beg.” 

My lips quirk upwards. 

Throwing a towel at his face, watching him tug it off, wet curls dishevelled. 

Tilting my chin at the tiles. 

“Put that under your head… I’m not sure she’ll let you go so soon. But try leave some voice… our client will want to hear her later.” 

To say so is an understatement. 

Eyeing the darkened marks scattered across her body with a mixture of amusement and curiosity when he draws away the fabric from her body, endearingly precious wit how carefully he handles her clothes. 

Knowing full well that he often underestimated his own strength, having torn off far too much in enthusiasm and eagerness, knuckles brushing against skin where the fabric had given way. 

It’s a sweetly thoughtful gesture. 

And right now it’s forgotten as his body leans down over hers, hand skimming and dancing across the side of her calf to grip at her thigh, tugging it open wider to settle between them. Weight carefully propped up by his hands bracketing her from either side. 

“Who coloured you up so pretty?” curious and voice warm and low. 

Much like the honey, sticky sweet and dripping molten onto skin, that he’d stirred into tea earlier. Questioning gaze at (Y/N)’s comfort in sinking back against plush cushions, a stiffness to her legs that my lips had quirked proudly at. 

“I would love to claim that one—but I’ll take that.” I say when Joon’s hands on her thighs make her wince, a small tremor wracking them as he rubs a line from her thighs to her hips, settling over her. 

Lips soft and unhurried and pressing to hers, his eyes mischievous and proud when he looks at me approach, pressing kisses across the curve of her jaw as I lean against the headboard, watching the colour seep past the thin shift, shifting restlessly on the bed, hands winding around his nape, loosely brushing through his hair. 

It was starting to get slightly long, brushing against his nape and I couldn’t wait to tug at the longer strands, to wind them around my fingers and tug so the thick column of his throat was arched, aching to mark up the skin. 

To relish as he complained about hiding them up for work the next day, dabbing ointments with a rueful grin, peering over his shoulder, my eyes raking in the red lines marring his back. 

Stained with lingering marks of Taehyung’s enthusiasm and obvious enamoured want for her. 

“Tired her out? Who was the second person?” fingers playing with the hem of the loose shift, dragging it over her head, eyes darkening with appreciation at the mottled petals of red and purple that colour the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, litter a mark across her torso, throat and shoulders. 

The tips of his fingers tracing idly over them, her body wrought with sensitivity, trembling at the featherlight touches, throat bobbing when he lowers himself down, fingers hooking into scanty drawers. 

Namjoon did appreciate the pretty lacey illusions of daintiness, loved tearing them off much more. 

Loved seeing us in wisps of clothing, loved our faces bare and features soft and loved seeing them flash with power and control, a clash of tongue and teeth, lips and limbs and body giving just as much as it desperately took. 

And his hands now grip possessively across the flare of her hips, dragging her down the sheets, covered hips rolling against her thin drawers; watching her eyes flutter with sensitivity. 

I knew just how easy it would be now to push her to a peak, knew how sensitive her centre must be, how easily Namjoon could push her off that precipice by continuing the slow drag of their hips together, breath a low groan that pools heat, molten and demanding, low in my gut, leaning over to tug at the loose collar of his shirt, yanking harshly until his lips collide against mine, groaning against my mouth, a feverish press of lips; bruising and fierce and achingly desperate against me. 

Teeth nipping and tugging at my lip, tongue curling closer to me, head tilting forward even as his hips continue to grind in slow circles against (Y/N), his hands dragging her hips forward, unable to escape the rough stimulation so torturously slow, her breathless keen of his name making my grip on him tighten. Fisting into the fabric and drawing him closer just as my body moves forward too, tongue sweeping through his mouth, fingers finally… finally tugging at his hair, soft and long, brushing and tickling skin as I grip him closer. 

A betraying pounding in my chest at the smile I feel his lips quirk against me as I lean away, eyes raking over the inviting tenderness flickering alongside mischief in his eyes, at the bob of his throat when his eyes drop to my lips, swollen and bruised with pressure against him. 

“I’ll put my mouth to good use later baby, but I think (Y/N)’s getting needy.” The word whispered and hushed, enthralled by the sight of flushed cheeks and eyes begging for more, for friction, for a deeper stimulation, legs trembling from where he keeps her splayed open, harsher ruts of his hips rocking against hers. Drawers clinging obscenely to her, stained with arousal, her moan trembling when his fingers finally draw them off her and mine curl around his waist from behind, undoing his breeches, tugging him free and stroking him, coaxing him forward, teeth at his throat. 

“Going to fill her up? What a needy thing she’s been all day… is it because your boy toy didn’t? You wanted him but you’ll take us won’t you?” I coo, peering over his shoulder at the flash of bold defiance alongside unadulterated need. 

Lips parting to shoot off a scathing remark when my hand coaxes Namjoon’s hips forward, petering off into a groan when he fills her, slowly driving in to the hilt, body positioned over hers, remark swallowed whole by desire. 

“You’ll take Joon like you took me over and over today.” I murmur, eyes drinking in the sight of her body arching and curling with pleasure, throat bobbing as she grips onto him, head thrown back and his name a cried plea, fingers digging into skin when I move beside her, brush hair back from her face and press kisses onto her skin. 

Even though my heart lay with Joon’s, entangled and merged in a way much deeper than our bodies had, there was still that thrill, that pulse of love and attraction and need to give her everything, mouthing at marks and colouring them darker, adding more to scatter across skin. 

Her next client would know that she’d been taken care of. 

Could only pitifully hope to reach that level of becoming even a fleeting memory. 

But this… the litany of soft whimpered moans and rough groans shuddering over skin, hands skimming hungrily over my own body, coaxing me closer. 

See the ripple of muscles over a broad back, arms bending as he drives himself deeper, her soft giving flesh slammed against by the full force of his weight and hips snapping forward. Watch his hands drift from the  to curl around her back, forcing her hips into a tilted arch, hands clutching at sheets and body arched off the bed. Low grunts of pleasure and murmured praise brushed tenderly against skin even whilst he keeps her body arched, thrusting deeper to draw out the sinful slew of moans past lips that just beg to be kissed, to swallow those sounds and curl my tongue close to hers. 

Their eyes holding each other’s even as hers shine with a pleasured glaze, glassy with overstimulated tears 

Attraction and love are two different things. 

No-one knows that better than I do, than (Y/N) does. 

Which is why when both come in an entangled form, bodies curved together, slumped and intertwined and mouthing unhurriedly at each other’s skin, lips curling close and hands drawing each other impossibly closer… the resulting sensation is something that makes my heart ache. 

Veins pulsing with electric desire and need but also love and protection. 

I’d do anything for the two people in front of me. 

And the thought that soon… alarmingly soon, I’d be leaving one behind and moving to the other. 

And the matching sigil branded across our ankles, shackles tying us to the forsaken hell the brothel was, now felt like a chain precariously close to snapping. 

And from taking me away from (Y/N). 

The safety net we’d been for each other for years now seeming like it was fraying and falling apart. 

But I’d do everything to keep her from plummeting, keep her from falling, from getting hurt. 

Because now her safety net would be both of us, a stronger fibre that wouldn’t fray and would cushion her. 

Be there for her. 

TAE POV: 

The clink of boots in the hallway makes me pause over the papers I’d been rustling through, eyes scanning the list of names and shipments and dreary in-between names and lists for countless people entangled in the long business of rooms and prices and titles. Of references and rolls of parchment of clientele, several ones scratched out, others underlined, ink seeping into cream. 

Pausing as they approach, travelling down the hallway, the sounds of clothes rustling; a jacket being shucked off at the door. 

Moving down towards the drawing room, my eyes barely tearing away at the approaching footsteps, hand curled around the fountain pen, watching as the ink steadily drips back into its well, fingers slightly stained. 

“Taehyung—burning the midnight oil? Thought you were asleep.” 

I sigh, tossing the pen onto the table, staring down at the names sprawled out endlessly in front of my eyes. 

A stretch of script and parchments spilled over the wood, some still in tight rolls yet to be unfurled, yet to see if names and clients repeated, trying to spot a discrepancy in them, to spot where dates and appointments overlapped. 

The dull throb in my legs remained, an ache that seeped into bones, after a near full day of riding from tavern to tavern, to sprawling manors to winding backstreets and alleys. 

Feel the slight twinge at the low of my back as I tilt my head back to track the movement of a tall, slender figure walk closer, eyes softer than I’d seen them in a long time. 

“Might be. Paperwork is just so tedious.” I groan, sighing at the hand that brushes away curls from my face, his own peering at me, the world upside down as he grins, peering past me. 

A confused furrow to his brows, lips twisting into a frown as he takes in the detail. 

Snatching up the nearest open roll of parchment, held open by paper weights. 

“Why’ve you got old client lists from the brothel? How on earth did you even get your hands on them?” 

Ask no questions hear no lies. 

My lips curve up. 

“Why sneak into my house when you have a much more lavish furnishing that dear father provided for his legitimate son?” I ask, diverting his attention away. 

Less knowledge for him was better. 

See full lips press thinly as his brows rise with how unimpressed he is. 

“Answering a question with a question. You’re hiding something. And the paperwork is for something big isn’t it? Plotting away into the dead of night.” He muses. 

I shrug, nose catching the scent of incense and perfume still clinging to his clothes. 

“Come right from the brothel Jin?” 

He nods, a rugged weariness to the sharp, elegant lines of his face. 

At times it was hard to associate myself to him, to the clean precision of his face, to the way he carried himself. Then I remember the paths he’d chosen to go down, drifting closer to my own, remember a warm smile and tender heart under rich fabrics and a barrier crossed that penetrative stares didn’t want him to. 

“Long night of appointments. I had quite a few massages to get done… a few errands to run but they’ll run over tomorrow.” He sighs, gaze still occasionally drifting past me to peer at the scrolls, eyeing the fresh ink blots and stains and marks made. 

Distracted by the sight until he ultimately leans over and peers at the maps I’d had drawn up by a cartographer, different coloured inks marking trails and paths, overlapping layers of what was the entire town laid out across the large sprawling desk. 

“This isn’t a loot. This isn’t your stupid amusement of having fun and hearing elite snobs sob for precious jewels… Tae what on earth are you upto?” 

Though his concern comes from a well meaning place, though it comes with good intentions and his voice is soft; a deep roughness that comes with fatigue laced with worry, it’s something I can’t risk ever burdening him with. 

Not when he worked at the brothel. 

Not when so many of the maps marked out several routes to houses and establishments that connected the owners and suppliers of the brothel. 

Not when one of those maps were dedicated solely for the greedy, always growing hunger for wealth, that Lim had. 

Several routes, several entrances and exits all carefully laid out. 

Her comings and goings recorded. Monitored to a fault. 

She’d been the big spider, the one I needed to monitor the most closely, the one who was dangerous, the one who grew by preying on the ones roped into the business, by consuming their wages and payments and wracking up large debts against them. 

“Leave my playing and merry ways to me will you brother~ looks like you could do with a massage or a lie down.” I remark lightly, pushing my chair away from the desk and plucking the papers from him, steering him away from it. 

My amusement. My merriment. 

My business. 

Leave it as mine Jin, don’t get entangled in something you won’t be able to free yourself from later. 

“For people needing massages… (Y/N) will definitely come tomorrow morning.” He remarks offhandedly, eyes sparking when my body stills. 

Legs unmoving and hand curling around his forearm, no longer nudging him out the drawing room. 

Face smoothening out impassively when I find my gaze fixated on him. 

Waiting for him to divulge but he doesn’t, waiting for an answer, for information but he just stands there. 

“And why’s that Jin-ah?” relishing in the spark of reaction I get at the endearingly familiar term, his chin tilting out as he stares at me. 

“Well you’ll have to ask the pretty lady when she’s back from her joint appointment with Jimin.” 

The words stinging just as much as they had when Jimin had first crooned them. 

Our client would like to hear her later. 

Our client. 

Our client. 

A joint appointment.  

And the thought of her being taken so thoroughly, of bedded between Jimin’s infinite aching raw hunger and another person’s made jealousy sear through my body. 

Made my body want, made me want to draw her away, to pin her body against the tiles and to have my name spilling from her lips as my hips canted into hers. 

The jealousy and anger and lust that had bubbled into every crevice of my body, had made it thrum with this caginess, with this consuming urge to be the one coaxing out the sounds past her lips and being the only one hearing them, the one whose skin and lips they reverberated against. 

Wanted to feel my body caging hers, the weight of mine pressing to the soft curves and keeping her from writhing away, keep her pinned; taking everything and all that I had to give. 

I wanted her. 

But I didn’t want the first time I took her to be at a bathhouse, at a place where she’d already done service, already done appointments. 

Didn’t want my first time with her to be shared, her pleasure as only my pleasure to take, my body the only one that made hers arch and twist with ecstasy. 

Joon. 

Some Joon was going to get to witness the pure vision she was consumed with ecstasy and overwhelming release alongside Jimin. 

Jimin. 

Not siren. Hoarder. 

Hoarding her away from me. 

Following him out the drawer room and watch as he begins the climb up the stairs, feet slow and unhurried, gaze full of laughter and grinning at me trailing behind him. 

Moving sluggishly towards the large master bedroom, tugging off his shirt, broad back on full display as he makes quick work of loosening his breeches, clambering under the weighted quilts. 

I watch him get comfortable, head sinking against the pile of pillows. 

Sighing with contentment. 

“You know… I’ve seen more of her than you.” a lilting remark made before he twists to snuff out the lantern, lips curving in a grin before he blows. 

Room snuffed into darkness; the dim candlelight enough to see the smug countenance on his face, a shadowed expression hidden under the sheets as he gets cosy. 

Laughter pealing and warm. 

Chasing away the stale emptiness that this house often echoed with. 

I step away, my own lips curving up, as I head back out into the hallway. 

Maybe I’d forgive his teasing jibe. 

And maybe I found myself drowsily slumping down over the coverlets besides him hours later, eyes aching and body stiff, chasing the comfort of childhood sunlight and the sweet scent of the fruity soaps he still favoured decades later. 

And tonight… tonight the house felt a tiny bit like home again. 

------ 

The apothecary opens late. 

Late enough that the hawkers have begun their journey through to the streets lined with markets, calling out for customers, luring them in to their wares, peddlers spreading out and eyeing anyone who seemed to carry a heavy purse and clustering towards them, voices ringing out with booming voices. 

And a lone figure finally… finally approaches the store’s opening, jacket clutched as he rushes forward, keys jangling as he undoes the locks, bell ringing as he hurriedly steps through. 

I push away from the bench, straightening the rim of my hat as I move forward, shielded by the sun’s growing strong rays as I move past the awning, grinning at the sight of the keys still wedged in the final lock, plucking them out before heading in. 

See his eyes widen as his head turns, alarm melting into sheepishness as he gives me a smile, hand rising in greeting as he lifts the hatch to get behind the counter to grab one of the many aprons lining the hooks, deftly tugging it on, fingers knotting the tie and straightening his hair and the thin spectacles he draws on. 

Rummaging for the shop’s orders and the habitual list of tasks he always wrote up before closing every night. 

“It’s not like you Namjoon, to open up so late, to be so… dishevelled before the workday’s even begun.” I tease as I make my way to the counter, eyes scanning the glass jars of poultices and dried herbs, eyeing the baskets of flowers spilling over from overhead pots, vines and leafy shrubs spilling over. 

“Late night… I had company staying.” He remarks, humming as he rifles through drawers for a fountain pen, almost dropping the pot of ink he draws out, the glass jar clutched between long fingers. 

“Oh? Were they pleasant?” I ask conversationally, eyes drifting across to search for any familiar ointments or salves… trying to see if he had any bottled, much like the last ones I’d bought. 

It’d worked wonders, I’d felt the tension seep away from the knots in her body, from the curve of her shoulders. 

Caring for someone in such a way was… new. 

But it was thrilling and exciting and brought a dangerously new warmth that curled around me, encompassed me in this fiercely tight sensation of what I wondered a loving embrace would feel like. 

“Very much so.” And when I focus on him there’s a grin curling at his lips, deep groove indents on either side, eyes creased with warmth. 

My head cocks, eyes narrowing on the sight of splotches of colour peeking out from under his collar, the slightly dewy sheen to his skin, having ran to the apothecary, at the way whatever cream he’s used to try blur and hide it worn off from the unconscious dabbing at his skin, the back of his hand dabbing at his throat before rummaging for a handkerchief. 

Amusement bubbles up as I tug my own out and slide it forward, gesturing to his throat as he absently takes it and wipes. 

“You got a little… pretty bruise Namjoon.” Gesturing to my own throat, knowing that my shoulders carried personal mementos left behind by (Y/N), thin red lines where her nails had dug for purchase. 

For an instance remembering the shuddered cries against damp skin. 

Watch him flush, fingers curling around the mark and staring wide-eyed. 

Flustered and caught out. 

Watch his eyes track me as I lean forward. 

“Don’t worry Kim, I won’t share that your desire is satiated by intimate company under candlelight. Must’ve burnt the midnight oil to wake up so late and tardy.” I tease. 

Watching the pink climb high on his cheekbones, sheepish grin as he shrugs and nods. 

“Is there a reason why the town’s secret Kim came to see me though? Waited for me to open?” he asks, detracting the conversation away from me. 

The town’s secret Kim. 

A man’s secret son, sired impurely, surrounded by the hush of scandalised gasps and low murmurs that were never truly meant to avoid catching my hearing anyways. 

Secret Kim. 

A surprise how easy townsfolk forgot. 

I shrug, dismissing the thought, as I look at him. 

“Some of that ointment I bought last time… if it works as effectively on the lower half too.” I ask. 

See his brows furrow slightly in thought as he nods, stepping out to go rummage in the back part of his shop, disappearing from sight. 

Wait for him to head back, leaning against the counter and peer at his list in curiosity, eyes lighting up at a familiar name on the list of deliveries. 

Impatience bubbling as he returns, fizzing dangerously in veins. 

Pluck the small tin before pointing to a name on the list. 

“How much does a favour cost Namjoon?” 

“Favours come free Taehyung. Why?” sceptical and curious. 

I tap the finger on the list. 

“Mind if I tag on to your delivery to the Kang’s?” 

Sliding over the coins for the ointment, watching his wry grin at the extra payment as he takes it. 

“Bribing me?” 

I dangle his shop keys in front of him, laughing with delight at the startled expression that quickly overtakes it. 

“Consider it a favour for a favour. I saved you from being looted… you let me tag along for the ride.” I say easily. 

Fingers letting go of the loop when he nods. 

“Deal.” 

And with that, one more chess piece is moved. 

One more card is revealed. 

(THERE WE GO. SUPER, SUPER SUPER NERVOUS FOR THIS CHAPTER—FOR THE VMIN TAGTEAM SPICE, FOR THE MINIMONI SPICE… FOR THE PLOT WISE FOR TAE AND GAHHHH ALL OF IT. @Midiiplier LET ME KNOW MY LOVE!! I HOPE IT WAS EVERYTHING YOU WERE LOOKING FORWARD TO AND MORE. ALWAYS MORE COS I GOTTA KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF, GOTTA IMPRESS! THAT BEING SAID… EYES PEELED AS THE PLOT THICKENS AND THE STEAM GETS HOTTER~ DID ANYONE CATCH THE SMALL REVEAL WITH JIN AND TAE?? WAS IT WEIRD? LET ME KNOW EVERYTHING!! TAKE CARE AND STAY SAFE!) 

Borahae! 

PurpleQueenie <3