The morning after, sunlight spilled through the grand windows of Don Jungkook’s mansion, warm and golden against the carved dining table where breakfast had been laid out. Silver trays of bread, fruit, cured meats, and steaming coffee lined the table.

Jimin came downstairs, cheeks pink, body sore from the night, and from something even more secret. His eyes flickered nervously to Don Jeongguk, who sat with one leg crossed, sipping his espresso with the calm ease of a man who held power…and a memory he knew Jimin shared.

Jungkook was already at the head of the table, broad shoulders draped in a robe, his cold eyes on Jimin the second he walked in. His stare softened only a little as Jimin shuffled over shyly and slid into the chair beside him.

“Sit,” Jungkook said simply, though his large hand came down to slap Jimin’s plump ass as he passed. The sound cracked through the air. Jimin squeaked, face burning, biting his lip. Jeongguk smirked knowingly.

The three of them sat together, the tension thick. Jungkook poured himself wine—though it was early—and began tearing bread with his hands. “Gguk,” he rumbled, “you enjoyed yourself last night, right?”

Jeongguk smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes gliding over Jimin like he was dessert. “Very much. Your boy is…special. Soft. Tight hole. Sweet like honey. You’re a lucky man, kook.”

Jimin’s face burned crimson. His fork trembled in his hand as he lowered his gaze.

Jungkook’s blue eyes slid to him, hard and dangerous. “My boy,” he repeated slowly, his voice gruff. “Remember that, Jeongguk. He belongs to me. To Daddy.” His hand found Jimin’s thigh under the table, squeezing possessively, making Jimin gasp softly.

Jeongguk chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. “Of course, of course. I wouldn’t dream of stealing what’s yours. Though…” he smirked knowingly at Jimin, “…he certainly has the appetite to be shared.”

Jimin nearly choked on his drink, his lips parting in shock. His thighs squeezed together under the table. Jungkook noticed immediately and leaned down to murmur into Jimin’s ear, loud enough for Jeongguk to hear.

“You like that, baby? Being called a slut? You liked having two cocks splitting you open, didn’t you? Hm?” His hand slapped Jimin’s thigh sharply, making him whimper.

Jimin buried his face in his hands. “D-Daddy…” he whispered, his voice trembling, shameful and needy at once.

Jeongguk laughed. “So innocent…yet such a perfect little whore.”

Jungkook smirked cruelly and tilted Jimin’s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Look at me, doll. You’re mine. No matter what any man says, no matter who touches you—you belong to me. Understand?”

Jimin’s big doe eyes glistened. “Y-yes, Daddy. Always yours.”

Jungkook kissed him roughly right there at the table, tongue dominating Jimin’s sweet mouth. Jeongguk sat back, enjoying the view, chuckling.

When the kiss finally broke, Jungkook licked his lips and growled, “Good boy. Now eat. I don’t want you fainting when I bend you over later.”

Jimin’s blush deepened, his little body trembling with heat. Jeongguk rose after breakfast, buttoning his jacket. He kissed Jungkook’s cheek and then leaned down, brushing his lips against Jimin’s ear before anyone could see, whispering:

“Until next time, doll.”

Jimin froze, his heart pounding, his body betraying him with a shiver of desire.

Jungkook, watching Jimin’s flustered reaction, smirked darkly. He tugged Jimin into his lap, spanking his ass hard enough to make him yelp. “Little slut. You’d spread for anyone, wouldn’t you?”

Jimin whimpered, hiding his face in Jungkook’s chest.

“Good,” Jungkook growled. “Because you’re going to spread for me right now, breakfast or not.”

And with that, he stood up, scooping Jimin into his arms, carrying him toward his room while the guards averted their eyes—already too used to the Don’s possessiveness over his boy.