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theharrowing · 4 months

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Carnival of Terror 🎪 3: Sink for me

The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

🎪 Namjoon x Female Reader x Seokjin, Jimin x Taehyung

🎪 word count: 7.9k

🎪 choose your own adventure, friends & strangers to lovers, carnival and circus au, dead dove, horror, possible minor & major character injury & death, supernatural elements & magic realism, nsfw, 21+

🎪 warnings: general feelings of discomfort and creepiness; time does not make sense; memories of a past with two enigmatic men; answers that only lead to more questions; an allusion to sex; mc likes to take handsome men by the hand & be led places idk; more hypnosis; mc is susceptible to coercion; mention of drug use.

🎪 note: all of the above details and warnings are subject to change as the story progresses & the readers vote. check the master post for an updated version of the details.

🎪 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🎪 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

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WELCOME BACK TO THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE WORLD!

We left off wandering the Hall of Mirrors, searching for what has become lost.

You stumble around the Hall of Mirrors, entering one of the rooms off to the right, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the music that seems to twist and bend much like your multitude of reflections. A giggle dances through the air that you could swear belongs to Jimin, but as you chase it, you find a dead end.

Still, you continue to chase. Room after room, dead end after dead end, you hear the giggle trailing away, always out of reach. In each new room, you search for a mirror that sticks out just far enough that you can slip behind it, into another passage. The one you pass through now has a black satin curtain in its entrance, and this new room is full of smoke that cloys your senses instantly, and it is dimly lit.

Realizing that the room is too small for any of your friends to be inside, you spin on your toes and exit the way you came in. As you flail your arm out to catch the satin curtain and shove your way back the way you came, you barrel straight into a chest clad in red velvet and gold buttons, letting out a deep, "Oof."

The body takes a step back, and you realize all at once that it is Kim Namjoon, leader of the Illusions show, standing before you. He looks at you with a soft, almost sad familiarity and then blinks it away with a bright smile.

"Why, hello, ducky," Namjoon says, voice much deeper than you remember, sending a chill through you.

From any distance, Namjoon is handsome, but this close, he is magnificent. You almost fail to believe that he is real, and rather than respond, you simply blink several times, feeling more enraptured when his smile widens, revealing dimples.

"Oh," is all you can muster, spellbound by Namjoon's beauty. You swallow thickly, attempting to return to your wits, and blink several times, averting your eyes. "S-sorry. I should watch where I'm going."

"No need," Namjoon responds, taking a step to fully loom over you. The music continues to swell and drag in a way that you find disorienting, and you sway ever so slightly where you stand, reaching for the edge of the doorway to steady yourself but only finding velvet to grip onto. He continues, "You are right where I hoped you would be."

His words don't fully sink, and you squeeze your eyes closed before opening them again, only to find that Namjoon's presence feels far larger than just a moment ago. You mutter, "Huh?" and look around, trying to remember whether the room the two of you are in looks familiar; after a while, each mirrored room looks the same, but there is something about this one that feels…off.

"Do you have any idea why I would be searching for you?" Namjoon asks, standing far too close for your well-being and making no move to back up.

You detect hints of a musk and maybe something floral coming from him, but the scent of the fog machine is still too strong. Come to think of it, the smell is far sweeter than you remember it being a moment ago.

"No," you respond in a bit of a haze, right hand holding onto the sleeve of his jacket like a lifeline.

Once again, you close your eyes tight, and in the darkness behind your lids, everything seems to stop. The music, the sweet, cloying smell, everything dissipates. When you open your eyes again, Namjoon is holding out a hand.

"A little bird told me that you had lost something important. Seokjin is currently not in his tent, but we can wait in mine. Come with me?"

You take Namjoon's hand, which is warm and soft, and he leads you through the mirror maze, room after room, without any uncertainty about where he is going. All the while you keep a lookout for your friends, but you never find any of them. Strange, you think…would they really have left without you or Yoongi?

And then you hear it: Jimin's giggle. Somewhere behind you, it trails away, and you twist in an attempt to yank back toward it, but Namjoon continues forward. With a stumble to your step, you continue along, muttering, "Wait…Jimin…" but he is undeterred.

"You will find your friends," Namjoon says as he pushes through a large black wooden door, revealing the outside. The afternoon sun is far brighter than you remember, and you lift your free hand to shield your eyes. Namjoon looks at you, causing you to look at him as he adds, "As soon as you are meant to."

You want to ask what he means by that, but he continues on, dragging you throughout the carnival grounds. People crowd every path and booth, but somehow, as you snake through them, nobody seems to notice the two of you. Strange, you think, since Namjoon is one of the two most recognizable men on the grounds.

Namjoon leads you to the large tents in the center of the space, walking straight toward a part of the red and white striped tarp that you swear has no entrance. But then he grabs onto an edge and pulls it back, and sure enough, you are able to enter.

This tent is different from Seokjin's. There is a large bed just to the right, which you quickly avert your eyes from. Trunks, chests of drawers, and armoires fill the space ahead in various sizes and colors. Most are wood – some worn with chipped red and white paint, and some that appear newer with fresh stain and shiny hinges. Others are brass and appear dinged up and tarnished.

Further ahead and to the right is a large folding screen over which clothing appears to be draped. There is a large metal rack on which more velvet jackets hang in reds and greens and blacks.

A thick black pole is in the center of the room, holding up the tent's highest peak, and draped around it appears to be various ribbons and rope. To the left, ahead, is a small desk with a chair on either side, and you quickly make your way to the smaller seat on the side closest to you – the one that appears to be for guests.

"Thirsty?" Namjoon asks, and you nod, muttering, "Yes," despite not being terribly thirsty.

You sit on the small wooden chair and notice piles of books stacked on a shelf behind the desk, running off onto the floor. Namjoon approaches the desk with a glass of water that he sets in front of you, and when you lift it in both hands, you are surprised by how cold it is.

"Tell me," Namjoon says.

You take a drink, waiting for him to continue. But as you look over the glass, you notice his deep, sharp eyes watching you, and you swallow a large gulp, practically gasping around it as you set the half-empty cup on the wooden desk and ask, "Huh?"

Namjoon smiles ever so slightly. "Is this your first time at the carnival?"

Something simmers through you, starting at the top of your head and trickling down to your fingers and toes. An answer rests at the very tip of your tongue, but for the life of you, you cannot find it.

Is this your first time at the carnival? You frown.

Vaguely, you can imagine more trips to this very carnival grounds – familiar faces greeting you, familiar tricks mesmerizing you. But they feel out of grasp, like a dream.

"Yeah," you mutter, brows knit. The answer feels wrong but you know that it has to be true.

Namjoon studies your face, expression otherwise blank. He blinks and cocks his head, then says, "That's a shame."

You agree that it is a shame. Deep in your heart, something is missing. Lost, perhaps. It makes you sad.

In the silence, your mind wanders. Hall of Mirrors, Tunnel of Love, the ferris wheel, and the game booths. Laughing and playing and holding someone's hand. But whose? These memories do not belong to today. They don't seem to belong anywhere.

Namjoon cuts through your thoughts, sitting up tall as he says, "Ah, here he is."

You turn in the small wooden chair to find Seokjin entering the tent. He wears a deep green velvet jacket with long coattails and a black top hat, which he lifts from his head as he bows in greeting.

"I hear you've lost something, ducky," Seokjin says, lifting his gaze to you as he speaks the nickname that gives you chills.

Seokjin's eyes are piercing, dark pools. You feel equal parts unsettled and intrigued, and when he blinks his gaze to Namjoon, it feels as if marionette strings that had been holding you taut are snipped, causing your body to relax as a deep breath escapes you.

"Shall we have a look?" Seokjin asks as he tosses his hat to the bed and begins to walk over.

You swallow thickly and turn to find Namjoon standing from his chair and moving to sit on the corner of the desk nearest you. His lightly floral musk returns, tickling your senses and making you acutely aware of how your pulse quickens as you do your best not to dwell on how he towers over you.

Seokjin has a seat across from you and places both hands on the wooden desk. Then he begins to dance his fingernails over the wood. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. You watch intently as his fingers move, feeling the rest of your surroundings slip away in a deep fog.

"Do you trust me?" Seokjin asks. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

You sink back into the chair, body relaxing as you mutter, "Yes."

"Good." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "Tell me the last place you saw that which you lost."

"Hall of Mirrors," you respond somewhat sluggishly. "Jeongguk…Jeongguk told him to get lost."

Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "Who, my dear?"

You blink and a single tear falls from your right eye. "Yoongi."

"Hey, Namjoon-ah," Seokjin says softly.

Namjoon hums – a sound so pretty and deep, you feel the urge to drown.

"What were you asking our little ducky before I arrived?"

Once more Namjoon hums, followed by a chuckle. Although you feel glued to the spot, something in your chest tugs in the direction of the sound.

"I asked if this was her first time at the carnival."

"Oh, how fun!" Seokjin says with a clap, causing you to gasp despite your eyes continuing to stare at the place where his fingertips had been. "And what did she say?"

Namjoon's presence feels close – musk overwhelming your senses, causing your eyelashes to flutter. There seems to be a hint of a pout when he softly utters, "She said yes."

Although your eyes are glued to Seokjin's hands returning to the desk, Namjoon's face is in your mind. His smile is sharp, eyes glazed over and brow pitched in pleasure, and his hair is disheveled. He looks younger somehow, and absolutely heavenly, and for the life of you, you cannot figure out why you are imagining him this way.

"What a shame," Seokjin responds. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

"It is what she asked for, after all," Namjoon says.

You want to ask what he means, but your mouth won't move.

"This is true." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "This is the first time she has chosen to remember everything. We have to be more careful this time around." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

More fleeting images flash into your mind, this time of Seokjin's hungry stare and wide smile. For the life of you, you cannot figure out why you are thinking about these men in this way.

"Ducky?" Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

Your mouth moves around unvoiced sounds before you finally mutter, "Yes?"

"Do you know what it feels like to lose something dear?" Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

Of course, you do. Yoongi was ripped away rather abruptly, after all. But why is it not him you imagine?

"Yes," you respond, picturing your hands running over crushed red velvet, fingertips digging into the fabric.

Seokjin's voice is close and soft as he asks, "Can you sink for me?"

Two warm fingers tap the underside of your chin, and the room melts away. Darkness engulfs you, and although you can feel the looming presence of the Kim brothers, you cannot otherwise perceive them.

Your body is weightless, hanging in the balance of nothing and everything. The passage of time means nothing, and although you can hear the utterances of two deep, familiar voices, you cannot make out any words.

Suddenly, you place your hands in front of you and begin to move them as if you are playing invisible piano keys. A slow, somber melody sings in time with your movements, making you sway and sigh.

"Ah, there he is," Seokjin says. "You can return now."

You gasp as you blink and return to the tent, looking at Seokjin's eager stare, then over to Namjoon's knees, and back to the desk.

"What was that?" you ask, remembering all of Seokjin's questions and the images of both men that feel strangely familiar.

"The mind is a fickle thing," Namjoon responds, tone low – almost sad.

"What did you do to me?" you mutter, palms gripping onto your knees. "Why was I imagining— why was I thinking about—"

You knit your brow and shake your head. It feels foolish to admit to these two that you were picturing them in a way that felt intimate, and even more foolish to blame them for your wandering thoughts. You are certain that you have never met these men before today, and yet something about those visions felt so right.

"About what?" Namjoon asks.

One glance at Namjoon stirs something uncomfortable inside you. His voice is soft and kind, but his expression is nothing short of dangerous. Namjoon stares down at you like a predator that has caught his prey, and you sit frozen in place.

"Here he is," Seokjin says.

You quickly turn your attention to watch as Seokjin slides a card against the desk, toward you. Although the card reads The Fool, there is no longer the image of the skeleton, but a man with short dark brown hair, dressed in blue and playing an organ.

"Ah…and I have found something else," he adds with a smile.

You cock your head to the side, and Namjoon leans too close for comfort, whispering, "Close your eyes."

A chill rushes over you, deep and familiar. It is as if you have heard those three words uttered in that voice time and time again, and you are filled with a longing so deep it takes your breath away.

Without question, you close your eyes.

And when you open them again, the cloying fog and droning music from earlier return. In one hand, you grip onto soft crushed velvet, and in the other, you hold onto a card.

Namjoon smiles sadly and places a hand over yours, causing you to let go of his jacket. The two of you stand where he found you in the Hall of Mirrors, and you are too gobsmacked to ask how.

"See you around," he says with a gentle frown that lifts into a smile.

Namjoon walks off to the right, and your right leg makes a move to follow, but then Jeongguk jogs over from the left, and you freeze. He halts in place when he sees you, then shakes his head, panting as if he is winded.

"There you are," he says.

You wonder how much time has gone by, and you even begin to reach for your phone before you realize you have no idea when your group walked into this attraction. Would perceiving the passage of time assuage any of your confusion? Part of you is too afraid to look.

"Hey," you say, lifting your empty hand to wave. "I was looking for you."

Jeongguk sneers and rolls his eyes, making you feel guilty.

"Look, Jeongguk—" you begin, but he shakes his head and lifts his hand, cutting you off.

"You didn't know."

"Still," you insist. "I'm sorry."

You really are, and you hope that he can hear the conviction in your voice. What Yoongi did was pretty fucked up, but you still really want to find him. You wonder if the three of you could arrange to still see one another once you leave this place or if that would just upset Jeongguk.

"We should find the others," Jeongguk says. His eyes fall to his hands, which are gripped into fists, and he opens them and stretches his fingers.

"Or," he adds, causing you to lift your gaze to meet his. There is something mischievous in his eyes, giving you goosebumps.

"Or?" you ask, feeling the urge to take a step back and put space between the two of you. Only the room behind you is a tiny smoke-filled dead end; you have nowhere to go.

"Or I could get back at him," Jeongguk suggests with a smirk, taking a step closer.

You step back instinctively, pushing on the curtain with your body but not causing it to open.

"Could find out what he sees in you," he continues, making your anxiety spike.

Jeongguk licks his lips, and you follow the movement. What would it be like to lose yourself beneath him? Would he be as eager and persistent as Yoongi? Take his time and pull you apart slowly and steadily? Or would he rip into you like a wild beast?

Truth be told, you are curious to find out, although you are unsure where these feelings are coming from. You blame it on the way your mind wandered while inside the tent with the Kims.

Not to mention, Jeongguk is gorgeous – the entire friend group is. Had Yoongi told you about his and Jeongguk's relationship, you would not have hesitated to try to initiate something between the three of you.

Jeongguk takes another step, this one closing the gap between you, and you step backward again, leaning against the black curtain enough that your weight begins to push it open. One more step, and you will surely stumble back into the small room.

"What's the matter?" Jeongguk asks, peering at you with a hunger that makes your heart go haywire. Since when has Jeongguk thought about you in a way that merits this type of expression?

"I j-just think—" you begin, and Jeongguk snickers, lifting a hand to delicately rub his knuckles over your cheek.

"Nobody needs to know about it," he practically whispers. "Just us."

Jeongguk leans forward, and you gasp, worried that his lips may touch yours. But the unmistakable sound of Jimin giggling causes him to stand straight and take a step back. You are surprised that you are not the only one hearing the sound this time.

"Maybe later," he shrugs, turning in time to watch as Jimin and Taehyung run into the room.

The two of them look disheveled, sweaty, and a bit dazed. Jimin runs a hand through his dark hair, saying, "Oh, there you are," and Taehyung struggles to peel his gaze from the floor.

"What were the two of you doing?" Jeongguk asks teasingly.

If the lighting weren't so dim, you wonder if two of them may be blushing.

"I could say the same for you," Jimin quips back, causing your anxiety to once more reach its peak.

"Us?" Jeongguk asks incredulously, turning to you with feigned surprise. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Dream on, Chim."

And although you are glad Jeongguk is brushing off the accusation, there is something about his dismissive attitude that makes you feel sad. Of course, you know that even if he is not kidding, you have no reason to feel this way.

"Wanna go play some game booths while we wait for Yoongi?" Taehyung asks.

You perk up and look between the three of them.

Jeongguk shrugs, muttering, "May as well."

"The next tent show is at three," Jimin states, pulling out his phone. "We still have a little time."

They all turn to you, and you nod and say, "Sounds good."

And although nobody is saying anything about what has transpired, there is something in the way they watch you. Something in the way nobody is willing to outright mention the elephant in the room despite being aware of its presence.

You wonder if Jimin and Taehyung knew all along what Yoongi was up to. And you wonder why nobody said anything.

There is also the question of how it is not even 3 pm yet. The illusions show was at 1, and that felt like a lifetime ago. How have you made it from that show, through the Tunnel of Love and the Hall of Mirrors – with everything in between – in under two hours?

This is precisely why you were in no hurry to perceive time. And now that you are, your fingertips begin to tingle, and you attempt to breathe through the urge to spiral.

Jeongguk glances around, trying to decide how to exit. Although you have no reason to feel confident about these halls, you say, "I think it's this way," and lead the group to the right, through to various rooms the same way you and Namjoon walked earlier.

At the large wooden door, Jimin sighs and asks, "A fucking dead end?" But you place your hand where Namjoon had and give it a gentle shove, revealing the back exit.

"Whoa," Taehyung mutters, voice deep and low. "How did you find this?"

With a shrug, you say, "I had a feeling, I guess."

You meet Taehyung's gaze and find him watching you intently. So intently, in fact, that it gives you chills. There is clearly something on his mind, but Jimin takes his hand and yanks him toward the game booths before you can question it.

"What kind of games are you good at?" Jeongguk asks just a little too close, making you flinch.

He stands to your right, mouth tugged into a lopsided smile. When he is not playing timid and coy, his demeanor matches Yoongi's so much that you feel conflicted and curious to know more about this other side of him.

"I'm not really good at any of them," you admit with a fake smile.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Figures," then takes your hand and pulls you toward Jimin and Taehyung.

Although your hand remains limp, you allow him to somewhat listlessly hold your fingers as you stumble along. He trails you over to where Jimin and Taehyung throw darts at colorful balloons that are attached to a wall, and you briefly worry about one of them seeing the two of you holding hands – if that's what one might call this. But this day has gotten weird enough as it is, and you no longer have any fight left in you.

Each booth and attraction blasts its own music, all similarly upbeat organ songs made for the carnival. That mixed with the constant sounds of customers and attendants yelling and shouting overwhelms you in the hot sun, and you stumble a little more as Jeongguk drags you along.

"I like playing the games with guns," he shouts over his shoulder.

"Guns?" you mumble back, likely too quiet for him to hear.

It feels strange to imagine Yoongi dating someone who likes guns. Then again, you are unsure whether you know much about Yoongi at all.

Jeongguk approaches a booth with rows of what looks like wooden horseback riders along a horizontal hillside. Stools with cracked red leather seats line the booth with metal water guns that rest on poles, all pointing to a circle with three holes straight ahead, beneath the rows of horseback riders.

There is an adult and two children sitting on stools to the right, shooting constant streams of water into their designated holes, making a horseback rider run along the length of the booth. One of the three holes seems to light up at random, and you have to aim the stream at whichever is lit up in order to make your horseback rider run forward. This is not quite what you imagined when Jeongguk said guns, but you are glad nonetheless.

"Two, please!" Jeongguk says as he takes a seat furthest to the left.

You hesitate before sitting immediately to his right.

"It's hardly a game of skill," he says, rolling his shoulders back as if preparing himself for the next round. "Just aim for the correct hole."

Although Jeongguk's tone is playful, it feels condescending. When you fail to respond, he nudges your arm with his elbow, forcing you to scoff and crack a smile.

"Aim for the correct hole," you parrot back unenthusiastically. "Got it."

The attendant hobbles over and takes Jeongguk's money, then he reaches to switch on something under each of your guns. A bell rings, followed by a cheer, and you turn to watch as one of the children stands up excitedly while the other child and adult continue to get their riders to the finish lines.

"Step right up to the races!" the attendant shouts while the winning child points to a brown and white stuffed dog hanging from the wall of the booth. As the attendant hands the dog over, he shouts, "Win the race, win a prize!"

The three players leave, and two more walk up, taking their seats to the far right. You turn your attention forward and stare at the rows of wooden horseback riders while waiting for your turn to play.

This game seems easy enough, and you wonder what the caveat will be. Will your horse be just slightly faster or slower than the rest? Perhaps your stream of water will be weaker than the others. Or, perhaps, moving the gun will prove to be challenging and this will be a game of skill, after all.

"Ready?" a familiar voice asks.

You look up to find Hoseok standing before you, head tilted to the side with the long black ears of his hat hanging around his face.

With a shrug, you mutter, "Sure," and Hoseok chuckles quietly as he walks to the far right side of the booth where a tall black stool waits for him.

"Racers, start your engines!" he shouts as water streams shoot from everyone's guns.

The gun is an old metal contraption with two handles on each side. You grip onto the handles and aim for the hole on the top and center of your circle, assuming the game may start there.

A loud bell rings, and the hole that you aim at lights up red. Above, you see the second wooden horse from the top begin to trot forward, assuming that one must be yours. But then it stops, and you look down at the circle to notice the hole on the right is lit up, so you attempt to move the stream to that hole but overestimate to the right and to the left of it before getting the aim steady.

It goes on like this, aiming for the top, then the left, then the top, then the left, then the right. As frustrating as it is to keep up with the changing light, you begin to actually have a little fun.

Then another bell loudly rings, and Jeongguk stands from his stool triumphantly. You are not too far behind, but one of the players to your right comes in second place, and you pull up in third.

"Not bad," Jeongguk says, settling down on his seat. "Once more? Aim for a bigger prize?"

"Alright," you mutter, not that you are at risk of winning anything in the first place. But if Jeongguk wants to walk around with a large stuffed animal for the rest of the day, that is his prerogative.

Hoseok returns, asking what prize Jeongguk would like, and Jeongguk hands him more cash and says he wants to win another round before choosing one. Hoseok agrees, and you stretch your hands and then practice the movement of aiming the gun without overcorrecting each time.

"Let's see ya get second place, this time," Jeongguk says close enough to make you flinch.

The way his voice becomes low and inviting is definitely a problem. Goosebumps cover your arms, and you find yourself instinctively raising your shoulders as if to protect yourself.

"Let's see you get second," you quip back, facing Jeongguk in an attempt to sound playful while rolling your shoulders back in order to relax.

Although Jeongguk rolls his eyes and says, "You wish," a familiar softness has returned to his gaze, which you are happy to see.

The second game is much easier, and although you make third place again, you are right on the tail of second, coming in almost at the exact same time. Jeongguk asks if you would like to try again, and you nod excitedly, never taking your hands off the metal gun handles.

When the bell rings, signaling the start of the third game, Jimin and Taehyung approach, asking whether you two are ready to go to the next tent show, to which you both grunt in response. This time, it is only you and Jeongguk playing, and although his aim is much steadier, you are not too far behind him.

Jeongguk gets first place for the third time in a row, and you come in at a reasonably close second. This time, the attendant who comes to offer Jeongguk his prize is Jack, clad head to toe in white.

"Take your time and choose," he says, eyes trailing between Jeongguk, you, and the two standing behind you. "I will escort you to your seats for the next show."

Jeongguk seems to be eyeing up a large stuffed toy that hangs from the ceiling. It is a white rabbit with pretty pink accents on its nose and floppy ears, and it is droopy and round, as if it will sit up on its rear end if placed correctly.

“It’s too big to carry,” he grumbles before looking at smaller trinkets down below, on a shelf along the left wall.

“I can hold onto it for you,” Jack offers as he walks to the rabbit and begins to take it down.

Jeongguk sounds elated as he asks, “Really?”

Jack shrugs, then turns with the rabbit in his hands. “Sure. Wanna touch it first?”

As Jack hands over the large rabbit, Jeongguk outstretches his hands. It is cute the way he inspects it, moving it side to side to make its ears flop before hugging it close. He nods, seemingly pleased, and hands it back to Jack.

"I'll have it in one of the tents until it is time for you to leave," he says, holding the rabbit in one hand while motioning with the other, saying, "Come with me."

You trail along the outside of the booth as Jack walks to the far right end, then he opens a little wooden half door and steps out. The attendant who ran the game earlier returns and begins to heckle passersby to come play. Meanwhile, you follow Jack to the back of the booth, along a path that only employees seem to use.

"Are the four of you having fun today?" Jack asks over his right shoulder.

The others respond positively, Jimin sounding particularly excited. You hum in response, mostly under your breath while you graze your fingertips over the beak of the little duck keychain that hangs from your hip.

You would have more fun if you knew where Yoongi was, and you worry that the more you move throughout the carnival grounds, the less chance you may have to find him. But his friends don't seem all that concerned. Perhaps they assume, as you do, that once he decides to come back, Jack or Hoseok will likely return him to you.

Jack approaches the largest tent and pulls back a flap. Although there is light coming through the tall wooden bleachers, your eyes have to adjust to how dark the space is. You step in first, leaving enough room for the others to join, and waiting for Jack to drop the tent flap and lead the way.

It is strange the way you seem to have preferential treatment, but you do not feel the urge to ask why. Something about it simply feels right, and you would hate to ruin the moment by asking too many pesky questions.

Much like before, you are led along the wall of the tent, then to a well-lit path to seats at the very front of the show. Jack stands with his hand out, motioning for you to take your seats at the edge of the stage, and as you do so, you notice that the rest of the crowd is already in place, waiting patiently for the show to begin.

The moment you sit in the fourth wooden seat from the aisle, a bright spotlight shines in the center of the space, and raucous organ music begins to play, causing you to jolt in surprise. You follow the spotlight, which dances in circles along the floor before trailing up to the ceiling where Seokjin stands in a little metal basket high up near the peak of the tent, holding the large wooden tentpole in one hand while he waves with the other.

“Come one, come all!” Seokjin shouts, voice filling the large space. “Welcome to Carnival Bizarre! The greatest show in the world!”

The crowd cheers, and you find yourself smiling up at the man, feeling something in your tummy stir. You could swear he is looking down at you, and in that moment, you begin to clap.

All at once, the spotlight and music cut, leaving the tent in quiet stillness. Audience members continue to clap, but most stop, replacing the movement with gasps and mutterings about what could be going on.

And then a small spotlight shines in the center of the floor, where Seokjin stands beside three chairs. Now that he is much closer, you are certain that he faces you, although whether he can actually see you is hard to determine.

"Who here has been to a hypnosis show before?" Seokjin calls, twisting his body to look toward the hands that rise throughout the crowd.

For a split moment, your hand begins to lift, but then you keep it sitting in your lap, certain that this must be your first time. You glance around, noticing that about half of the hands in the crowd are raised.

"As most of you are aware," Seokjin shouts, "hypnosis is not a trick of the mind, nor something that removes all autonomy from the person being hypnotized. While I may guide you along paths and suggest what you see, everything you conjure is your own, and you are fully capable of leaving the hypnotized state at any time."

All of this must be a disclaimer that Seokjin legally has to make. After all, you clearly remember feeling completely helpless and out of control of your own body while under his spell. But, to his credit, you also never made an attempt to fight for control.

Seokjin asks, "Can I have three audience members volunteer to participate?" and the crowd goes fucking wild. People shoot up from their seats, waving their hands around maniacally, shouting and cheering to be the one Seokjin chooses.

Slowly, you lift your hand. There is a pull to be on the stage – to be by Seokjin's side. And as you cautiously rise from your seat, hesitating with each movement because maybe this is something you should give a little more thought to, a spotlight finds you, causing you to lift your other hand to shield your eyes.

A delicate hand taps your shoulder, and you notice Jack standing in front of you. He holds his hand out, palm facing up, and you squint into the spotlight as you take his hand and step over a short barrier separating you from the stage floor.

Two others come onto the stage, but Seokjin's eyes are only on you. Nerves kick in, your cheeks burn hot, and the spotlight threatens to make you break into a sweat. How the Kims wear thick velvet jackets up here is a mystery; your thin everyday clothes feel obstructing and far too thick.

Seokjin smiles and holds a palm toward the leftmost chair, and you take a seat. You are grateful there are several feet of space between each one, and you settle down with your hands on your knees. You attempt to look toward the audience to see if you can make out the silhouettes of your friends, but all you can see is a bright white light and vague hints of shadow.

A slow, somewhat gloomy song plays from somewhere in the background. It is a subtle string arrangement with each cord hanging impossibly long before blending seamlessly to the next, and you find your body swaying ever so slightly as you listen.

"I chose you three on the basis of never having been to a hypnosis show before," Seokjin informs. His voice booms through the space, and from where you sit, feels all-encompassing and electric. "It is natural to feel some nerves, but you are in good hands. You can back out and return to your seat at any time."

There is a pause that feels as if it stretches on far too long. Under the hot light, knowing so many eyes are on you, you feel antsy.

Finally, Seokjin continues. "I want you all to focus on the music and take in a nice deep breath for me…"

You breathe in nice and slow, in through your nose. A long, shrill note is held in the accompanying song, causing you to sit somewhat alert, listening for what comes next.

"...close your eyes for me…"

Your eyelids flutter closed.

"...and sink."

Two fingertips tap the underside of your chin, and despite the bright spotlight, all goes black. You hang in the liminal space of weightlessness, searching for the source of the string arrangement that continues to play. Now that it is just you, the music, and Seokjin in this space, you hear it much more clearly.

"Take deep, slow breaths for me while your body fully submerges," Seokjin says.

You could swear he is only speaking to you, somehow speaking through you, in this dark space only. And you do as you are told, gradually relaxing and falling deeper and deeper into this state of total relaxation with each breath.

"We all have something in our past that we dearly miss," Seokjin says. "Something that has been locked away, for one reason or another. Nothing traumatic or scary; nothing that is locked away for good reason. But something we seem to have…lost."

Seokjin snaps his fingers, and in a wave of thought and feeling, you are tangled in between two bodies, sweat covering your skin, exasperated. Hands caress your hair and face while others cover you in thick blankets. And although you do not see any faces or hear any voices, you know who these bodies belong to. Seokjin and Namjoon.

You remember the thick, rough feeling of canvas tent flaps against your palms; the bitter, earthy smell of incense and burnt wood; the taste of absinthe lingering in hints of black licorice and anise on your tongue.

Summer after summer, choosing tails to protect yourself and make yourself forget.

Summer after summer, finding your way back to these two lovers who only call themselves brothers for the sake of the show.

"How incestuous," you tease in a distant memory as hands undress you and lips suck at your skin.

"Shut up," the deeper of the two voices growls in that tone that tells you that you have definitely done it this time – you're in trouble.

You remember crying because you regret choosing tails. Every single time, you regret choosing to forget.

"You'll be back," the brighter of the two voices promises as lips press softly to your forehead. "You always come back."

"I want to remember next time," you plead, hands desperately grasping for crushed velvet and hints of skin.

The music swells around you – a crescendo of strings building and building, causing hot tears to stream down your face. You can sense the men but you cannot see them, and you desperately search the dark. You desperately need to find them.

"Now do you remember?" Seokjin asks, voice greeting you in a low whisper.

"Yes," you say, perhaps aloud, it is hard to tell.

"Good," Seokjin responds. "Very good."

You feel elated. Jubilant. On top of the world.

Seokjin says just one word, "Dance."

And dance, you do. You throw your hands in the air and twist your body to the music, sweeping your limbs into a tendu, an arabesque, a pirouette. Never have you felt so happy to remember in all your life, and you twirl and twirl and twirl, never becoming dizzy. It is distant, but you think you can hear a crowd cheering.

"Now stop," Seokjin instructs, and you could swear the music stops in the exact second your limbs do, as well.

You had been in the middle of spinning, and your arms remain raised over your head in fifth position with your right leg raised in an arabesque. And although you remain stationary, hung in space, you cannot detect the weight of your own limbs.

"Return to me after the next show," Seokjin whispers softly in your mind. "Until then, follow the rabbit and do as he pleases. Seek pleasure and ensnare him for us, okay, ducky?"

"Yes," you whisper back, feeling the urge to cry. You continue to stand, frozen in the same position in deep, never-ending darkness.

That is, until Seokjin commands you to, "Open your eyes."

Your eyes open, and you find yourself in the center of the stage, with your arms and right leg raised. You do not tremble, but you are suddenly aware of the weight of your body. Strangely, though, you are unable to move.

Seokjin shouts, from somewhere behind you, "Everyone, give a round of applause to our lovely little ballerina!"

You wish you could search for the source of his voice, but all you can do is stare ahead at the bright white light and faint silhouettes of audience members who clap and cheer.

"Thank you, ducky," Seokjin mutters close to your left ear. "You may relax now."

With a deep exhale, your limbs fall. You sink into a slouching position before rolling your shoulders back and having a look around. The other two participants are sitting in their seats with their expressions wide, staring at you. On your cheeks are damp, heavy streaks from tears.

"This concludes the hypnosis show!" Seokjin shouts, and once again, the crowd goes wild. "We will see you back here at five and seven!"

With hints of memory returned, you spin on the balls of your feet, eager to talk to Seokjin about what you saw and felt. But Jack is here to place a hand on your arm and gently guide you back toward your seat.

"Wait," you mutter, voice desperate and perhaps a little too loud. "I need to—"

"Exit the tent first," Jack interrupts. "You can find your way back to him after the next illusions show."

Your friends are to the left of where you face, and Jack very sternly guides you in that direction, away from where Seokjin stands waving and smiling at the audience members who file out of their seats, toward the exit. You look over your shoulder, desperate to meet his eye, but he seems to look in every direction but yours.

As you approach, the three men come into view, and they are all clapping with their eyes on you. Jeongguk, in particular, appears to be seeing you in a new light, and the longer he stares with wide, curious eyes, the more antsy you become.

"Wow!" Jimin shouts as Taehyung says, "That was so cool!"

"Thanks," you mutter, eyes falling to the white tent floor. You walk along the edge of the stage, then join your friends in the walkway as they shuffle toward the exit with Jimin and Taehyung in the lead.

From behind, to your left, Jeongguk says, "I had no idea you were so flexible," in a tone that begs to entice, causing your cheeks and neck to burn hotter.

You want to smack Jeongguk on the arm for being so forward, but you keep your eyes ahead, determined to get out of this tent and decide what to do in the meantime. The rest of the audience members file out of the space slowly enough that you sway into each heavy step that you take, able to see the sun shining in from the wide mouth of the tarp but unable to reach it.

"I want to go back into the Hall of Mirrors," Jeongguk says, quiet enough for only you to hear.

"Why?" you ask, turning your head but not enough to see him.

"You know why," Jeongguk responds.

The crowd ahead stops, and Jeongguk steps close, pressing himself against your back. The warmth of his body behind yours makes you sigh.

"We shouldn't—" you begin, but Jimin turns briefly with a huff and shakes his head, just as impatient to exit as you are.

"Come on, don't be shy," Jeongguk says directly into your ear. "Let's have a little fun. I brought molly. We could roll in there."

The absolute last thing you need to do in a place like this is get high. But the idea is inviting.

"Alright," you say. "But I don't want to miss the shows at five and seven."

Two warm hands grab onto your hips, rubbing up to your ribs and back down, letting go only when the crowd begins to move again.

"You have a deal," Jeongguk says. "Let's get some water, pop some crystal, and lose the others."

Lose may not be the word you want to hear, considering you still have not found Yoongi. But you are feeling impulsive, eager, and curious. Something about the scenes you visualized during hypnosis has all of your nerves on edge, and you want to touch and tease and taste. You want to let go and sink into pleasure so badly, it is all you can think about.

Seokjin urging you to follow the rabbit plays on in your mind, and you think back to the prize Jeongguk wanted to win. But what did Seokjin mean about ensnaring him? You wonder if you were just imagining that part.

There is a persistent buzzing in the back of your mind, and although there are only two men who can answer the myriad questions you have, you decide it is best to go into the Hall of Mirrors with Jeongguk and worry about seeking answers later.

Time seems to be running at a stretched and slowed pace, and you have until 5 for the next show. You are in no rush.

달리 표현할 수 없어 Can't put in other words 우린 마치 처음부터 We click so well just like 알아온 것 같이 딱 맞지 We knew from the beginning Do you feel the same? My darling, come closer 함께인 것 같이 알아 나도 As if we're together, I know 이건 정말 미친 짓 같지 This is so crazy Do you feel the same?

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apologies for the long gap between chapters! i was STUCK unsure what i was doing/where i was going with this, mainly in terms of pace. it took some time, but i have a lot figured out, so hopefully it is smooth sailing moving forward!!! chapter 4 is already fully outlined, pending the results of the upcoming polls!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! COMMENTS AND REBLOGS MEAN THE WORLD, AND LIKES ARE APPRECIATED, TOO!!! STAY HYDRATED AND I WILL BE BACK TO TORMENT YOU SOONER THAN LATER, I HOPE! 🤍 POLLS WILL BEGIN TO GO UP IN THE NEXT 12-24 HOURS FOR CHAPTER 4!

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Carnival of Terror is a Goosebumps-inspired fic, copyright theharrowing 2023 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

#namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x seokjin #namjin #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts horror #bts circus #choose your own adventure #fic: carnival of terror

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xoxiu · 11 months

Text

my house of stone, your ivy grows - yoongi x reader

chapter one table of contents masterlist

summary: yoongi carried himself with a sense of pride within himself and his belongings. he worked hard to get to where he was- ethically or not, it made him the man he is today. his latest toy, a young college girl from america, will become his magnum opus. he just needs to work out the kinks.

tags/warnings: mafia au, kidnapping, daddy dom!yoongi, smut, autistic!reader, spanking, stockholm syndrome, little!jimin, vminhope, drug mention, namjin, fluff, domestic discipline, age gap

The library was unusually quiet for how busy it was as Kiwo sat in her unofficial designated spot by the tall glass windows. Every day she would sit there, basking in the sun and trying to find some sort of motivation to study or work on assignments. She had chosen her Philosophy major in hopes it would be easy, but those hopes were quickly crushed by the realization that she was required to take Korean lessons. While she was familiar with the language, she still struggled to grasp the proper grammar and structure. She would constantly be thankful that all her classes were in English but felt isolated from her classmates and fellow students due to the language barrier.

She could almost hear her mother's voice in her head, scolding her for choosing a school out of the country. Kiwo winced as the sharp words re-entered her mind.

Meanwhile, Jeon Jungkook was sitting a small way away from Kiwo, video chatting with his friend and fellow mafia member Min Yoongi. The two were people watching through Jungkook's back camera on his phone, making up some sort of weird scenario and inferences about the people around them. It was just a way to waste time and have a little fun.

"I bet he cries at the smallest of difficulties," Yoongi remarked, referring to a young man with his head on his laptop keyboard in frustration.

"Oh, definitely," said Jungkook, "He might be doing just that right now."

"Willing to guess he would beat his girlfriend, too."

"Hyung-" Jungkook's sentence was cut off with a laugh, drawing some attention towards him from his nearby peers. He quickly coughed to cover up his lausaidghter, and returned his attention to his phone.

"Wait, pan back to the left again," Yoongi told Jungkook. Jungkook turned his phone slightly left and waited until Yoongi spoke up with what he wanted to see.

"Her. Wow," Yoongi softly breathed out. Just a table away sat Kiwo, who was still watching the birds and cars passing by outside. Yoongi had gotten a glimpse of her face when she had turned at the commotion Jungkook made and instantly became intrigued with the young girl.

"She's just, wow. She can't hear me, right?" Jungkook lightly tapped his earbud, indicating that he was the only one that could hear Yoongi. Yoongi nodded in affirmation and continued to watch the girl. He noted how the sunlight made her brown hair a softer caramel color, and how her pale skin almost sparkled. Her cute puppy eyes made her almost seem like a real-life doll.

"She definitely has on OnlyFans, hyung," Jungkook said, "I mean, most American girls do."

"If she does, I would subscribe to it," Yoongi only half-joked, "But she seems too classy to have one."

The two were silent, watching Kiwo from the phone screen. After a few minutes, she made eye contact with the camera, and Jungkook made frantic typing gestures with his fingers to not look suspicious. Her gaze eventually went towards her computer screen, but Jungkook still put his phone down, leaving Yoongi with a black screen.

"...Do you have a tracker?" Yoongi timidly asked. He knew the chances of Jungkook having an AirTag on him were slim, but Yoongi held hope that he could somehow come into contact with the mystery girl. Jungkook thought for a minute, before realizing what Yoongi was implying.

"Hyung, we can't just tag her just because you think she's cute," Jungkook jokingly scolded his elder. "Besides, how would I even do that? Just go up to her and be like 'hey, want this AirTag?'"

Yoongi shook his head, not bothering to reply to Jungkook. He knew it was a long shot, but it has just been way too long since his last relationship. He was starving for love and was willing to do anything to get it.

Eventually, Jungkook sighed, indicating he was giving up to his hyung. "I can put mine on her," he said. They all had personal trackers on their person, allowing any of the members to see their exact location in case of an emergency. Before Yoongi could respond, Jungkook hung up the call.

He stood up and removed the AirTag from its band on his arm. While sliding it up his sleeve, he walked by Kiwo's table. He stood to the left of her, pretending to just be looking outside. Jungkook looked over at her opened bag hanging on the chair behind her, and stealthily hid the AirTag in one of the inside pockets before walking away.

Yoongi sat at his computer, staring at the location Jungkook's AirTag was at and waiting for it to move. He couldn't stop thinking about the girl, and how sweet and innocent she looked. Closing his eyes, he desperately tried to remember her face. He soon realized that the memory of what she looked like was fading, and grew upset and anxious. He wanted to see her again badly.

With his eyes still closed, he started to picture what their life together would be like. How she would take care of him after long days out working. Making him and the rest of Bangtan food and making sure they are also well-fed. He smiled at the thought and soon opened his eyes. The location had moved ever so slightly, and Yoongi zoomed in to follow the route the girl was taking. She was quickly navigating the college campus eastward. As he walked, Yoongi quickly realized she was heading toward university dormitories. She must have been rather young, perhaps a first-year student, to be living in a dorm.

Kiwo eventually made her way to the international student dormitory.

Kiwo dropped her backpack with a heavy sigh as soon as she entered her room. Her roommate, Jasmine, sat at her desk as she read one of her various textbooks. She looked over at Kiwo as she entered.

"Long day?" Jasmine asked, putting away her book.

"Is it that obvious?" Kiwo asked, plopping down into her bed face down. She felt exhausted after the tedious walk uphill and thinking about the overwhelming dread of her classes. She rolled over in her bed to check her phone and grew sad when she saw there were no notifications.

Her friends back home rarely kept up with her after high school. She would message them first to only get left on read. It felt isolating to be ignored by the people you grew up with while you're far away in a foreign country. Kiwo remembered on graduation day how excited her friends were for her to be going to South Korea, but now it seems they couldn't care less about it nor her.

Closing her eyes, Kiwo tried hard not to cry. She felt so alone and knew there wasn't much else she could do about it. Eventually, she fell into a deep sleep.

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #mafia au #bts little space #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #vminhope #namjin #my house of stone your ivy grows

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