#namjoon x yn

Part 23.5 - Crisscross

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~~Part 24 - Fortification~~

Part 25 - coming soon

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);

Word Count - 6.3k

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‘You know, I don’t see why we can’t just gatecrash the bachelorette party.’ Jimin whined over the phone.

‘Mini, I love you, I do, but it’s girl’s only.’ You rolled your eyes and smiled into the phone. ‘Plus, you guys have to be there for Kenta. Be the life of the party,’ you lifted your shoulders,’ I don’t know… guy talk.’

He scoffed. ‘It’s wayyy better to shake my ass with our party girls, and I know for a fact there’s going to be shit talking. The soulmates are the life of the party, y/n.’

You shut your car door and talked on your way up Yuna’s steps. ‘So be the life of thatparty.’

You heard him grumble to Taehyung who was probably next to him.

Fidgeting with the spare key in your hand you sighed. ‘Okay let me do this, I have Kae-Lee, Ria, Lirrah and Jia with us tonight. So let me see where the night is headed, and if it’s cool with the girls, I’ll give you guys a sign to come through.’

‘What about Yuna?’

You snorted. ‘Please, that bitch would never mind the two of you.’

‘Okay. Let’s see if we can get this party started. If it sucks, we’re jumping ship.’

You chuckled at their lack of remorse. 'We’ll be happy to have you aboard.’

You jumped out of your skin as you heard a crash come from inside the house, then a scream.

Yuna!

'Gotta go.'

Ending the call and shoving the phone in your pocket, you hurriedly twisted the knob on the door. Finding it open, you pushed your way inside.

'You are one crazy bitch!'

The sound was that of a kitchen utensil hitting the floor, so you headed straight for the kitchen and rounded the corner to its entrance.

'What the fuck is going on here?’ You looked at the tray and crumbs of broken muffins strewn across the floor then between the two individuals that shared the same face, but couldn’t be more different.

'Oh great.’ Helen let out a cold spurt of laughter. 'Here to save the day, as always, y/n.’

Helen and Yuna had had their fair share of fights. You and Helen had enough experience getting in each other’s way, but something… seemed different this time.

She looked wild, and unhinged. A cold trail built up your spine, one that had your protective instincts rearing its head.

Pushing aside any fear, you walked to Yuna, giving her a once over.

'Are you okay?’You pushed her hair out of her face and noted the shock etched on her features.

'I’m fine.’ She gave you a hard look. That look would fool anyone… anyone that didn’t know her.

She was scared, and in pain, and this may have never been your fight, but you would always choose to protect her, even if she hadn’t asked.

Eyes blazing, you turned on the cause of Yuna’s distress. 'What the fuck are you doing here, Helen?’

'This is my sister’s house.’ She feigned nonchalance, but you could see she was rattled. ‘I don’t owe you an explanation.’

'What. Do. You. Want?’ You ground out each word. You had no time for games.

She opened her mouth to speak and paused. Chuckling incredulously, she turned her head to the ceiling, hands on her hips, 'You are really a thorn in my side, y/n.’ Looking back at you she crossed her arms, and pursed her lips. 'You have been for a long time.’

Helen Mei was strong, independent and cutthroat. She did her job well. She carried herself well. She fought the system, was brutally honest and would never back down from a fight. As a person, it would hardly be a struggle to get along with her, as Yuna’s sister she was less than tolerable. You had an inkling and a fear about her true feelings toward you, a friction between the two of you that could never be bypassed or erased. But up until the fight you had weeks ago, and now, you didn’t know how far her insecurities ran. Then again, it wasn’t an insecurity if it was true.

She continued without waiting for you to speak. 'It just wasn’t enough for you, was it?’ Her question didn’t sound rhetorical at all, as if she was actually looking for an explanation. 'It wasn’t enough to disappoint your family, disappointing your father,’ her voice felt like a whip cracking against old wounds, opening them up, 'to push them away, leave them high and dry,’ she frowned at you, 'you had to steal mine as well.’

'When I had none left!’ You flinched at her outburst and felt your throat flex with a hard swallow. You decided to bite your tongue against any of her words – this was a long time coming.

'My uncle,’ she said bitterly, 'God knows what made him just absolutely love you.’ Nausea roiled within you, a darker nightmare, trying to make itself known. 'My sister,’ she motioned to Yuna, 'still loves you, my parents…’ she offered a sad smile to the floor, her next words came out in a whisper, 'my parents are dead y/n.’

She looked up at you, her eyes accusing. 'They’re dead! I have no one. I only have me. Because of you!’

For the first time, in a long time, you almost felt remorse at pushing your parents out of your life. Almost. They were alive and well, but you centralized yourself in a maze that would take nothing but time to navigate and lead to sheer dissatisfaction. You never took their calls. You barely answered texts. Any advice you required from your father, any document requiring his signature was purely through conference call in actual professional meetings, and email. Ria could handle your father just fine, and perfected the skill so you had the privilege to dodge him.

You even kept your mom at arm’s length.

Not to say they hadn’t tried to reach out, to meet, to make things right, but you weren’t ready. You might never be ready.

Even Helen, for all the truth behind her temper, couldn’t make you regret your choices.

The canary was missing from its gilded golden cage, its small door wide open. It would remain that way.

'The only reason,’ Yuna stirred beside you, 'you are alone…’ she turned to face her sister fully, 'is because you are selfish, Helen.

Y/n has never told you no. When we were kids, she never only asked for me. She’s always included you. She’s never been anyone but herself… and yet you have hated her.’ Yuna’s tone was laced with contempt, 'You never gave her a chance.’

You resisted the urge to butt in. It was true that you captured more than your fair share of Yuna’s time, it was also true that you had tolerated Helen’s presence. It wasn’t mean or rude. Your energies didn’t gel, didn’t see eye to eye, couldn’t shake hands. That happened in life. But you had never asked Yuna to distance herself, or choose. You never would. Even now, you were willing to make sure Yuna stayed with her sister.

’…ried to distance her from you. I had to hang out with her and not you. I could not have you whining, and brooding and hating one of the people that’s always been there for me. In front of me.’

'What about me? What about me!’ Helen pointed to herself, 'As soon as I was out of the picture… I was out of the fucking picture, Yuna. You had no time for me. You didn’t even make the effort to say, “Hey Helen, come join us”.'

Helen looked less polished than usual. Her hair was unkempt. Her make-up, subpar, your internal monologue commented, as you took her in. Her eyes had a twinge of purple peeking out, as if she wasn’t getting enough sleep. Before you could berate yourself for being so callous as she had a breakdown in front of you, she cracked. 'That, I could have understood. You created a space between her,’ you tried not to make a face as she pointed to you, 'and me. That was fine. But every time we were together… we couldn’t talk. You shut me out. As if the best secrets were for y/n, as if your best moments and your memories were y/n’s first. Y/n this. Y/n that. I asked y/n and she said this. Y/n. Y/n. Y/n! She took my fucking place!’ Helen pointed to herself. 'I was supposed to be the Maid of Honor. Me!’

'I told you, you could have it.’ It was a long shot. It wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t take back all the years of personal vendetta she seemed to have against you. And as important as the role was to you, and to Yuna, you would give anything to fix this.

It also remained that you didn’t want to be hated so badly. Other people were other people, but for someone that had known you for years, to hate you, to this extent…

Helen squeezed her eyes shut as if the very sound of your voice would set her off. 'I don’t need your pity.’

Emotion clogged your throat, needing her to see that you had never meant for any of this, that pushing her out of Yuna’s life was never a plan and you hadn’t actually stolen her twin from her. 'If it will make you come to the wedding, I do not mind stepping aside.’

'No.’ Yuna squeezed my wrist. 'The Maid of Honor, is the bride’s choice. It’s not the sister or the best friend or the closest one, it’s the person they need the most in one of the happiest moments of their lives. And that is you, y/n.’ You sucked in a deep breath, unable to look at her, knowing if you even glanced her way, you would both start crying.

Instead you cleared your throat, and tamped down the panic you felt as the situation got more out of control. 'I can’t take back anything, Helen. Truly, I don’t know when this all started.’

'Of course, play dumb.’

You clenched your teeth. 'I don’t. As far as I knew, we were all friends, and then we weren’t. But now that I know, now that we know, it’s me and my presence, let’s start fresh.’ You implored her, trying your best to get through to her, honestly you wondered if a slap would wake her the fuck up. 'Yuna is leaving, Helen. She’s leaving. She won’t be near me for quite a while. You need to be there for her wedding and give her a proper goodbye.’

'Don’t you dare fucking tell me what to do,’ she charged at you, 'Don’t make it look like this is all my fault, that I need to be the bigger person.’

'Heli, stop it!’ Yuna surged forward and pushed her back. 'Just stop.’

'You’re always defending her!'

'And I always will! Because she has always put me above everything.’ Yuna’s voice broke. 'She picks up my phone calls and comes over when I don’t ask her to. Y/n sits down with me when I’m sad or fucked up or having a bad day. Y/n picks me up off the floor and dusts me off to move on. Y/n listens and fights and is never afraid to be honest with me. Helen, y/n does not make plans with me, y/n moves her plans around me, if necessary. I would do the same. That is how important she is. So between you and her…’ Yuna squeezed your hand, placing everything into her next words, ’it will always be her.’

Helen was dumbstruck. The last few years were the last few years, but this moment, this declaration – it devastated her.

You couldn’t see Yuna’s face, but you had a good idea of her level of determination from how sure she sounded. No remorse. No regrets.

'You’re my sister.’ Helen whispered. 'You’re my twin.’ Her face twisted into a mask of cruelty, her eyes betrayed her anguish, 'Yuna, I’m blood!’

‘Yuna –,’ you tugged on her hand to stop her from putting any more nails in the coffin.

'Blood has never determined family.’ You closed your eyes against Yuna’s statement. There was no coming back from this.

'I have always given you the benefit of the doubt, Heli. But y/n has never given you a reason to hate her. You just have. And then you built on it and built on it and generalized and harbored so much of these negative feelings. But I have given you enough compassion… at some point, it’s your character… and I can’t deal with it anymore.’ She sniffed and turned her nose to the floor. ‘I mean, I offered you a muffin and now they’re on the floor.’ A pause, then a painful whisper. ’Says a lot.’

The tension was thick, almost suffocating, but you couldn’t run, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t stop her either.

'You are still my sister. You are still invited to my wedding.’ Yuna turned away to face the counter behind you. She stretched her arms across it to support herself. ‘I would very much like you there.'

You curled your own arm around one of hers and felt the tension bleed out of her.

Never taking your eyes off Helen, you watched as tears cascaded down her face, the wild panic in her gaze, a person that was well and truly lost. Her lips tightened, and she shook her head before whispering, 'You’ve made your choice.’

Against your better judgment, you wished to hug her, to hold her and reassure her that despite your role in Yuna’s life and how deep it went, she was Yuna’s twin, her sister, always would be.

You resisted the urge to suck in a harsh breath when she met your gaze. 'How does it feel? Princess!’ She spat the word, as if it was a slur. 'How does it feel to have everything?’

She swiped at her tears, removing evidence of her pain and her rage.

You didn’t have everything. More than most, you would admit. But not everything. You wanted to fix this, but how? How?! With no answer, no solution, you let yourself feel the words she threw at you and took full responsibility. It felt heavy, insanely heavy, a certain pressure in your chest as Helen Mei looked at you, as if you had shattered her heart.

'Remember it.’ A chill went up your spine at her tone, all traces of sadness replaced with vehemence. 'Remember the feeling for when you have nothing left.’

You watched her leave and felt a tear roll down your eye at the curse she’d thrown so easily. You wished, if there was a law in the universe that bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, despite the countless individuals that had to go through it to prove it wrong, you wouldn’t be one of them.

———–

Orbit. Anyone would think it a funny name for a nightclub. Anyone that didn’t know the owner, that is. But everyone knew Braelyn.

She was the wild Barbie of her three sisters and made good in her role by managing a thriving nightclub in the middle of the idol circle of Seoul.

Hazlyn, aka Hazey, was the moon, Candelyn, aka Clandy, the Earth and Braelyn, more commonly, Bree, was the sun that the two older sisters orbited.

Kenta looked into all three women when y/n started associating herself with them. A single father, moved to Seoul with his three young daughters, adored them, loved them and left them an equal share of all his money before passing peacefully in his sleep. Despite being foreigners, not born, but raised in the community, the women made their own circles that the elite and the known wanted to be in.

Kenta had to hand it to y/n. Business was business, make or break, but bonds stood firm. She had a knack for earning the handshake and head nods of people with potential, because she exercised an ability her father never could; impartiality. Kim Y/n gave respect to both the doorman and the boss, and it took her very far in her line of work.

In his prime, Sung Y/l/n, would not be caught dead, doing renovations for the “middle class”. High-rise, skyscrapers, towers with glass that shattered light, that was how far he reached – a contradiction to his down to Earth daughter.

But y/n backpedaled when she took over. Kenta could hear her now, “the bigger picture can only be done one portion at a time”. Four years and three renovations later, renovations that y/n quoted for less than half her actual price, Kim Y/n had three trusted, powerful women in her corner, should a favor ever need to be called.

Hazey’s Bar, Clandy’s Cafe, Bree’s Orbit, all regulars for the rich and famous. It helped that the locations lived up to their names.

The bar was quiet, steady, a night cap, a couple of stories, a way to look back or contemplate. The cafe was the day, collecting snippets of people’s daily lives and routines, short conversations and the before or after, for work headaches and hard days. The nightclub was where the memories were made, reckless abandon, emotions spilling over quite literally, and housing a number of regrets that led a person to the bar a couple roads away.

It shouldn’t seem that deep. It already was.

As Kenta walked through the empty dance floor, a contrast to the sea of bodies that usually riddled it, he couldn’t help admiring the handiwork of his charge.

Y/n was no copycat. No one he knew would add textured wallpaper in a deep burgundy and pair it with black trimmings. It would seem gaudy… and yet. The overhead lights, blue and white, danced across the skeleton of the black roof trusses and exposed scaffolding painted the same color. She had no fear in showcasing her originality and she had a better understanding of people’s energies than she gave herself credit for. The nightclub screamed Braelyn – a dark Barbie that would stab with her stiletto as easily as she would walk the runway with it.

Y/n wasn’t psychic. But Kenta had learned the hard way to trust y/n’s gut and her receptiveness to energy.

At a meeting when she was eighteen, and he wasn’t her designated bodyguard, y/n had to meet one of her fathers old clients, a woman in her late forties that owned several upscale salons and make-up artists that were well sought after. Y/n usually showed respect. She did just that, save for the furrowed brow and the fidgety fingers, y/n addressed the lady with utmost civility.

Kenta and y/n had their cordial interactions, and had seen each other on a daily basis for at least a year till that meeting. Of course he asked his boss’s daughter if something was wrong when it was adjourned.

Y/n merely shrugged, and muttered “she feels… off”. She left straight after. Upon further inspection, by his own means that Kenta would never admit to having access to, the woman had an appetite for young boys. A sickening, downgraded version of Mrs. Robinson, in Kenta’s opinion.

Right then, despite the nine year gap between them, Kenta learned to trust y/n more.

'Which VIP room did y/n book?’ Huru flanked Kenta, as they walked through the empty club, courtesy of the owner who was just upstairs in her office.

Bree would cause a rebellion over the type of vodka that should be used in any Blue Curaçao cocktail, but she would never question security, especially for her high-end clients.

Y/n happened to be a paying friend, she was as high-end as it got, before anyone made it to the sister circle.

'VIP 3.’ Kenta pointed it out. 'It’s the one on the far end, at the edge of the stage, where the DJ will set up tonight.’

'Isn’t that too loud?'

Kenta’s lip curved upwards on the right. 'They’re going to be too drunk to care.’ Settling back into his signature poker face, Kenta decided to pry. 'Why are you here?’

Kenta did these alone. He had no actual reason to believe anyone from Bree’s staff or Bree herself, would invade Yuna or Y/n’s privacy, but he could never be too careful. He would do a necessary check of the room, liaise with Orbit’s security for the night, who would clock in anytime after 3pm to do their rounds, and confer with his team. He would touch all bases.

'Scoping out the area.’ Huru glanced up to the second floor and further. The ceiling was in the shape of a pyramid, the point at the most central part above the dancefloor. Huru definitely noticed that Bree’s main office sat behind an incline of the stained glass ceiling, a hidden third floor, an easy way to observe. He made no comment about it. 'I’ve never been to this place and I don’t have other jobs lined up.’ He met Kenta’s eyes. 'So why not?’

Kenta let it fly for now. He had a job to do. Entering the room he reminded himself to be thorough considering one of his favorite human’s and the love of his life would be partying where he stood. And he’d be damned if he didn’t keep them safe.

It was pretty standard, except for the pink… everything. The couches were pink. The champagne flutes and ice bucket were pink. The fucking bottles of alcohol lining the bar on the left, pink only. He almost smirked at the face y/n would make as she sipped on any of the pink stuff. Y/n was by far the most tomboyish person he’d ever met, and yet she pulled off the ice-queen thing perfectly. He smiled inwardly. She was anything but.

A sudden wave of protectiveness ensnared him. He would rather be on the job tonight. But his best men were adamant about him doing a bachelor party and he would not refuse his new found family.

It would be fine. His team would take over, and he would trust them. Zwahn, Yeon, Kiri, Xan, and Yoshi would lead. He’d sent Jinx back into training to get her ass handed to her by Sylo.

Xan was the most inexperienced and the youngest, but he’d be in the club, as the playboy looking for a good fuck. Zwahn was already filling in for a bouncer; Yeon by his side. Kiri would be bartending, and Yoshi would do what Kenta did, make sure everyone was in place. Kenta sipped water that looked like vodka in settings like these and chose the top floors to scope out everyone’s position. It was easy for him to be eyes and ears. He liked it. More importantly, Yoshi was at home in Kenta’s shadow.

Although…Kenta spared a side glance to the other male he had grown to afford a significant amount of trust, Huru had asked y/n for Kenta’s position already.

If recent encounters were anything to judge by, Kenta was almost sure, y/n would agree to it.

It’s not that he was against the idea. Huru by all means, could handle y/n’s protection. He had a black belt in taekwondo, knew his weapons on sight and could watch people without getting antsy. But Kenta had never just protected y/n.

Y/n at eighteen, was a quiet woman that worked hard with her head down and listened to her father. Y/n, at nineteen, because of a man drunk on power, had to become a fully grown mature woman, robbed of the perks a young adult life had to offer. Y/n at twenty something took over said father. Y/n by herself, ate less, barely had any social interaction outside of work and lost herself. Kenta forced food toward her when she forgot to eat or didn’t eat. Kenta carried y/n from her office chair to the couch and covered her with a throw blanket when she fell asleep at her desk. Kenta pulled y/n out of the crowds and hid her from view when she had a panic attack. He knew about Namjoon first. He knew about Hoseok first. He knew her favorite foods and her countless ill-timed reactions, her temper tantrums, any health problems, her past, her parents, her company growth, Kenta was not just a bodyguard and Kenta did not have a problem with another bodyguard.

He had a problem with anyone, including Huru, ever taking his place with y/n.

It was an immature thought, an insecure one. So he would assure himself. Regardless of who she picked or how many, the minute he wanted back in, she would allow it.

That was not at the forefront of his concerns, though. Kenta especially had a problem with Huru learning y/n’s secrets and about her mindless babbling, and her incoherent sentences when she cried at the drop of a hat. But not because Huru, robot-like as he was, wouldn’t react in the correct manner or show sympathy, of course there was that minor detail, but really, Huru paid too much attention to y/n. Huru took to y/n. Huru had never taken to anyone.

Y/n would never cheat, but temptation was a bitch and Huru cared a little too much than Kenta was comfortable with. Most importantly, though he would never admit it, he didn’t want anyone seeing y/n that vulnerable and developing a need to protect her. He knew firsthand.

‘I’m not keen on broaching this subject, but I have to.’ Kenta started his search on the lining of the door frame. ‘Why are you so invested in y/n?’

Huru averted his gaze, making his way to the opposite end of the room. Avoiding eye contact. Hmm. Probably one of the most human things he’d done today. Kenta wasn’t even sure the man’s lungs took a breath without controlled precision.

‘I –,’

‘Anddon’t bullshit me.’ Kenta cut him off when he started. 'I know you better than you think I do.’

And skirting around the truth did absolutely fuckall.

Kenta may have been the subordinate within the organization once upon a time, but this was his world now.

They had a mini stare down before Huru sighed, his body going lax. ‘She’s… intriguing.’

Huru and Kenta were mismatched. Kenta got into Sylo’s company the same year Huru branched out on his own. Huru was two years his senior and taught Kenta the ins and outs till he said his goodbyes. The only reason they actually got along, was because of their aversion to people and kissing ass.

‘As far as I know, no one, nothing, has ever intrigued you.’ Of course, in the beginning, Kenta didn’t take kindly to Huru’s superiority, and Huru wanted to smack Kenta upside the head for his disrespect.

Yuna had fun hearing the stories, a true writer in her own right, took crib notes of their original characters and character development. Kenta would have to keep an eye out for a bodyguard script some time in the future.

Huru’s lips curved slightly on one end, it was as close to a smirk as he’d get. ‘Can you blame me?’ As they circled each other in the room, and went about their business, it seemed incidental, but both men out of habit kept their backs away from each other, like two alphas seconds away from pouncing. ‘Considering how protective you are, trying to ask me something without actually asking… you understand that she’s worth the time. You care.’

‘She is important.’ Kenta agreed. He would never refute the simple fact. He got on his knees to check underneath the inside of the bar, and around the many shades of pink bottles.

‘She’s trouble and very stubborn.’

Kenta fought the urge to smile, but not from amusement. He just knew damn well how much trouble she could be. ‘She’s gotten under your skin.’

Kenta immediately scowled in disapproval after he said the words. Huru was dangerous and his controlling nature was a front for a dark obsession if ever he had one. He wouldn’t presume anything yet, but it was concerning that Huru didn’t bother to deny or hide it. ‘Regardless, I’m finding it hard to fathom your growing interest in her, going as far as to offer yourself up for my position.’

Huru liked the shadows, flexible ties or none at all. It’s why he traveled, moved coast to coast, and blended in. Being Kim Y/n’s bodyguard, was the opposite of blending in. It was also an indication of how far Huru’s fixation went. But how far was he willing to go, before giving up?

‘Am I overstepping?’

‘With me, no.’ Kenta lied. Huru didn’t need to know that. They were not so close that Kenta would confess his fear of losing his place with y/n. 'But I believe, with your skill and experience… It’s a downgrade.’ Truth be told, they weren’t close. In their line of work trust was akin to gold; Kenta and Huru knew each other’s abilities. Huru was an expert sniper, Kenta was specialist in hand-to-hand combat, one preferred guns, the other knives, should an intruder walk in, they would be able to handle him without words. That was as close as it got.

However,’ Kenta straightened up. 'You overstepped when you insulted the leader in front of his band and his wife.’

Jungkook, usually the most complacent of all seven members, was lethal in his curiosity. Huru, the PI, was already a known and unspoken, undesirable individual. Namjoon was Alpha. His pack, especially the most loyal, wouldn’t take kindly to any threat of their Alpha.

And so the youngest, instead of cornering y/n or comforting his leader hyung, came after Kenta, the source. The maknae was smarter and sharper than he was given credit for. He had no qualms in giving Kenta a play by play, and voicing his concerns over the interactions he’d witnessed within the board room.

Huru shot Kenta a dark look. ‘The self-righteous leader doesn’t appreciate what he has.’

‘And you feel you will?’ Kenta couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice. He felt a twinge of annoyance at the jab and felt protective over y/n and her relationship. Kim Namjoon was not under the impression that he was superior by any means, unless he was playing his part of RM.

'Don’t accuse me. I haven’t pursued her. But, make no mistake, Kenta, my woman, whoever she may be… is mine, I wouldn’t cheat on her.'

Well… fuck.

Huru and Kenta were both beyond beating around the bush and beyond lies. But hearing a confirmation made Kenta wary. Huru might actually like, y/n.

As Huru pulled up the blueprint of the club on his phone, Kenta sidled up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I trust y/n. But she is vulnerable, right now. The last thing anyone needs is a picture of what “can be”.’

Huru pinned him with a look. ‘At least, you agree I would treat her better.'

Kenta wanted to dispute him, but the fact remained, that Namjoon had cheated on her. Any defense against it would be a waste of time.

Sensing Kenta’s uneasiness, Huru dropped the eye contact once more and Kenta’s hand fell away. 'I won’t make her cheat on her husband Kenta. If you didn’t already know, she has stars in her eyes for the leader.’

Kenta frowned, not only at the condescension laced in the two words. ‘It’s that deep.’ Somehow a statement and a question.

‘Truthfully, no.’ Huru blinked. 'But she has a nice smile. And she makes me pause.’ a shadow fell over his features. 'It’s disconcerting.'

Kenta could imagine it was. Yuna did that to him. Sure, he smiled at the guys, y/n especially, he was himself with them. But it only happened over time, over experiences and memories and conversations. With Yuna, Kenta had never been able to get a good grip on his emotions. She caused a tick in his jaw, and his eye twitched under his dark sunglasses when she went above and beyond to piss him off. Like her best friend, Yuna didn’t do well with orders. And unlike y/n, who stayed away from men, Yuna got the blood raging under Kentas skin, to knock the teeth out of the mouth of every fucking prick she dated and do even worse to the sleazebags in the entertainment industry that tried to get into her panties.

Shelving his fury at past encounters that still enraged him, he could admit to himself that he wanted her. Every part of every minute, every day. He wanted to kiss Yuna and claim her and protect her in any way he could. Yuna was fucking frustrating and loud, she loved pink and shopping and she had high standards. She didn’t keep up an outward persona like y/n. What you see, is what you get. If she hated a cupcake, she would frown, if she loved a series she’d be content, if Yuna loved, she loved with all her heart, and if she hated, she had no trouble in making it known.

Kenta had exercised his emotions for the better part of his life, but Yuna steamrolled those fortified walls, causing him to feel something fierce, and he still didn’t know how to navigate the waters. He didn’t know how to be… normal. Hell, the idea of standing at the foot of that aisle in a tailored suit and polished shoes, and preparing for a waltz of all things, it all almost had him bolting to the hills when he had never considered it an option before. But he wanted Yuna. So he would do it all. He would figure it out. He would learn how to be a husband and someday a great father. He would leave his old life behind and transition to something new.

'Any other day, I would be very happy for you. But not, y/n.’ He was sincere in both his support and his underlying threat.

'Your disapproval is so heavy, Kenta.’ Huru’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘You shouldn’t be worrying about such things when you’re getting married in a day.’

Kenta ignored him. Everyone underestimated his role in Y/n’s life – they learned the hard way. Taking Huru’s phone, he swiped on the blueprints of the club and refreshed his memory, noting the entrances and emergency exits. He already had a visual on where his team would be positioned.

He pulled out his own phone to text his team… and stopped. Yoshi would be leading sooner rather than later. It would be prudent to allow him to take the lead.

'What if she’s not happy anymore, Ken?’ Kenta lifted his head to find Huru at the bar, a bottle of vodka that looked entirely too expensive to open in his hand. 'What then?'

Huru still hadn’t made eye contact for more than a couple of seconds. Kenta relied on eye contact. For once, he was unsure of Huru and his line of thinking, which made foreshadowing his actions impossible. 'Doesn’t mean you will make her happy.'

'You don’t know that.'

Kenta bristled. Huru was asking to get punched. 'I do know.’ He did. Without a doubt. 'I know y/n. I know she only has eyes for Namjoon.’ Done with the bullshit, Kenta bypassed the tension and set the record straight. 'She gives you time of day, because y/n likes puzzles. Her foundation of Kim Y/n is built on emotion. So your robot-like nature makes her want to poke, till you snap your teeth at her. She is being friendly and trusting because she trusts me. Do not break that trust. Do not make me regret ever including you in her life. You are not Kim Namjoon, Huru. You cannot ever overstep with Kim Y/n. He is her heart. He is a part of her.’

Huru stepped up to him. 'I have no intention of shaming you. You can trust me to take care of her. I will. I am capable of protecting her.’

'That’s up to her to choose.’

‘Now, whose bullshitting?’ Huru called him out. ‘She would say yes or no, depending on your decision.’

Damn straight.

‘Maybe,’ Kenta neither confirmed or denied it. ’But know this, she will stay in her marriage and she will only be whole with Namjoon. She’s forgiven him… It’s only a matter of time that they continue to build on an already solid foundation. All that said, there doesn’t seem to be any room for you in that picture. So if you do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything to fuck with her mentally…’

Kenta didn’t finish his sentence. Truly, he didn’t know what he would do. But it would be a bloodbath if Huru and Kenta ever came to blows. And in any battlefield he would be on the side of his family. The band. Namjoon. Hoseok. Yuna. Y/n.

‘You think so little of me.’

Huru didn’t sound offended. Kenta would be if the roles were reversed, but the stakes were too high for him to care. Anything Kim Y/n related was personal. ‘A bodyguard’s role is to protect, defend and evacuate,’ Kenta stood at his full height and let Huru read him loud and clear, ‘you are one wrong word away from identifying yourself as a threat.’

Huru’s grip on the bottle tightened, before he reined himself in. 'That’s that then.’ Huru turned on his heel and set the bottle down, and spent more than a few seconds, turning the label to face the front. 'Ken,’ he released a pent-up breath. 'I may be wrong. But… from what I gather about your ice-queen and the way she thinks … she’s forgiven her husband, as you say…but…’ The stark honesty in Huru’s gaze when he lifted his head and his words thereafter, turned the blood in Kenta’s veins to ice. 'Will she be able to forgive herself for staying?’

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Part 23.5 - Crisscross

~~Part 24 || Fortification~~

Part 25 - coming soon

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#bts aus #bts namjoon #bts au fanfic #bts angst #kim namjoon #bts au #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon x you #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon x reader #bts kim namjoon

Fri, 15 Apr 2022 16:55:50

Nerve || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

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Part 23 || Vindication

~~Part 23.5 - Crisscross~~

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); Borderline Smut;

Word Count - 4.6k

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During the course of the day, tensions settled somewhat since the meeting that morning. Having a wedding around the corner, being deep in planning and helping out, as well as feeling the aftereffects of the tempest of y/n and Namjoon’s relationship, Jin made the decision to have a huge supper at the dorm.

When ordering out, it was ideal to get food from one location. But since the band felt more like a band after the meeting earlier, Jin decided everyone should get their preference.

Chaos ensued during the decision making with seven different menus going around the room, but eventually Jin and Namjoon got everyone’s orders and had food on its way from no less than four restaurants.

Going their separate ways for the moment, Namjoon currently hovered near the entrance of the dorm with Jimin across from him. God knows how he was left to do collections, when he was the klutz.

‘How likely is it for a fashion emergency to happen at the wedding?’

Namjoon looked up from his phone. He was aimlessly scrolling through his texts and watching the time tick by. Secretly, he hoped the pizzas that were ordered would be delivered after thirty minutes, so they could get it free.

Y/n would make fun of him for being a millionaire and yet biding his time for free pizza, but old habits die hard and some things help keep a person grounded. For some it was memories that backtracked to the days ago where the position and lifestyle and financial standing was difficult, for some it was reminding themselves to save for a rainy day, like a trauma response to deal with the guilt of overspending, for some, like Namjoon, it was the Earth and the rain and y/n and a free pizza.

Namjoon had no doubt in his mind that Jin had his timer on his watch set as well.

'Well, the odds are pretty slim, considering how meticulous y/n and Yuna are about their clothing and that you and Tae will be handling the final touches of everyone’s outfits and approving before we leave our respective rooms.’ Namjoon watched Jimin scarf down his alcohol in one gulp as if it was water, 'but then again, anything can happen.’

Jimin shook his head, a frown playing on his features. 'I feel a bit useless. We just have the outfits to cover.’ He looked at Namjoon pointedly. 'Which, of course, is important. But once the ceremony is going on, and after, what then?’

Namjoon regarded his dongsaeng for a minute. He knew why y/n kept the soulmates free. They were a wild card and a soothing presence, Taehyung and Jimin, in that order. Which meant they could stand in, handle, inform, and save any situation, any issue, any problem that made itself known.

Jimin could calm anyone down, clear a fight, provide clarity, anything the wedding party would require. Taehyung was a charmer, he would handle guests, he would maneuver his way through the technical roles such as the photography and the music and still keep up a playful ruse.

'I think y/n is using you both as safety nets, should anything happen.’ Namjoon had no qualms in saying it out loud. 'She relies and trusts the both of you.’

Jimin grimaced. 'Hyung, I’m drinking right now. You and I both know, I don’t need a reason to be emotional.’

'Kinda late for that considering how the day has gone.’ Namjoon regarded himself and shook his head at the memories. 'I need a drink or two myself.’

'Don’t berate yourself, hyung.’ Jimin picked his glass up, and held it against the light, 'I’ll tell on you.’

Namjoon did not want that. He wasn’t a pussy. But y/n was a force to be reckoned with, and he’d already used his quota of overruling her for the day. 'It just feels premature.’

Neither of them needed to clarify what the leader was talking about.

'It’s life. Whatever has to happen next, will happen. We just have to… control our emotions. I wish I could switch mine off.’ Jimin added as an afterthought.

'Hey,’ Namjoon straightened his posture, 'emotions have always been your strength.’

'Yeah,’ Jimin’s expression dulled, despite the pep his alcohol should have provided. 'Things have been wack these days, I just want to drink and eat good food, and call it a night.’

Namjoon felt a crease from between his eyebrows. 'What’s the matter with you?’ Somehow this felt less about the band and more about Jimin. Even during the meeting, he wasn’t his usual, opinionated self.

Besides the meeting, Jimin didn’t hide his feelings, nor did he talk about them as if they were a hindrance. He was the most emotional of all the members. Clearly, something else was going on for the male to be so wound up.

'Nothing,’ his dongsaeng, shrugged, but he didn’t look Namjoon in the eye. A clear lie.

'Come on, Chim,’ Namjoon urged, 'you can talk to me.’

Come to think of it, Jimin was missing his sass and his attitude. It was that extra pop in his presence that captured attention and kept him on the fence of both his soft and hard personalities.

But tonight, Jimin’s bags showed under his eyes, he looked… dare Namjoon think the word, but Jimin looked thin, and somehow, if it made any sense to anyone at all, Jimin looked older, like a male in his late twenties, no longer Namjoon’s softest maknae.

No. This was a man that had something going on. That had nothing to do with any of his brothers.

Jimin opened his mouth to answer when – 'Namjoon,’ y/n called from above them, as she leaned over the balustrade, 'a minute please.’

'I’ll be up in a sec,’ Namjoon instinctively called back.

Wait. This was it… wasn’t it. This was what he did all the time. Y/n always had to wait, had to come second, had to be patient.

When y/n called or needed something, Namjoon didn’t always drop everything and leave. And she didn’t complain, nor did she ask for explanations.

This was why there was insecurity in her heart.

But, he looked at Jimin, his dongsaeng, who he’d just had a big fight with and was going to confide in Namjoon…

As if making a decision for his hyung, Jimin motioned to y/n with his empty glass, Jimin mouthed the word 'Later.’

Namjoon hesitated, 'Are you sure?’

A curt nod. 'Later. Promise.’

Namjoon was not convinced but he filed a reminder in his brain to circle back to Jimin once the night was over.

He trudged up the stairs to where y/n entered the home gym, through the door next to Jungkook’s.

When he walked in, y/n was pacing and immediately his adrenaline skyrocketed. He eyed her form, noting her hair, no marks, no physical hurt, no objects around her were broken, that was good… but something was clearly wrong.

But he didn’t show his anxiety. He didn’t dare show it. This was a response he’d have to handle.

For all he knew, she could be stressed about the wedding or Yuna or really anything in the world, it didn’t mean she was pissed at him, or that she was leaving him.

He shut the door behind him and closed his eyes for a second. Breathe, Namjoon. Breathe.

He cleared his throat and turned around to face his wife, 'Y/n?’

She stopped pacing, crossed her arms and nodded her head slowly, as if putting pieces together in her brain. That was nothelping.He immediately knew he did something wrong. But what?

'So,’well fuck that tone, 'I had to visit the office this morning.’ She motioned to him, 'as you know.’

He nodded, his eyes wide and biding the seconds through the suspense in the air.

'You see, Ria got some feedback…’ she narrowed her eyes, 'on the materials I was compensated for, some time ago,’ her tongue poked her cheek, 'and apparently these suppliers were visited by lawyers, big-shot, no-nonsense kinda lawyers.’ Fuck. Double fuck.

She walked slowly toward him and he resisted the urge to step back as her tone grazed over his body like a velvet cover on a sharp-edged knife. 'Do you think it’s fair… that you didn’t tell me about this?’

He wouldn’t bother lying. He wouldn’t lie to her. He didn’t do it when he cheated. He wouldn’t do it over something like this. 'We weren’t talking y/n.’

She threw her hands up in the air. 'So you’re gonna fight my battles for me. Like what,’ she narrowed her eyes, 'some damsel in distress.’ She spat the words, as if it was the biggest insult.

'It’s not like that!’ He protested. Fuck no. He didn’t like it when she was upset, but he would never ever disrespect her independence. 'They fucked up your order, I wanted to get your money back. That’s it.’

She ran her fingers through her hair, looking away from him and back. 'I would have taken the loss Namjoon. I didn’t ask for you to step in. You’ve never overstepped like this before.’ Her jaw clenched, as if reigning in her emotions.

He knew of the line she spoke of. He never meddled with the affairs of her company, just like she held her tongue about his idol life until they were behind closed doors. But he wouldn’t back down.

'You were already stressed out about me, y/n,’ he pointed to himself, 'I wanted to help and I knew you wouldn’t have let me.’

'So instead of offering help, you went behind my back instead?’ She spread her arms wide.

Oh. Stones. They were throwing stones. Okay. Unable to help himself he replied through his teeth. 'The same way you spoke to Heeyoung without informing me.’

A momentary pause. 'That has nothing to do with this.’

'Like hell! It’s the same situation.’ He stalked her this time. 'I wanted to save you without you knowing and I did. You wanted to protect our family without me knowing and you did.’

'Namjoon –,’ she moved back, trying to maintain distance from him.

He knew why. He was her kryptonite. He was always her kryptonite. His scent. His face. His presence. His cock. The unwavering, ice queen melted only with him. And he fucking loved it. She knew, she knew, he would always give as good as he got from her. But he was not in a mood to play. Not yet.

'Are you sure this is about the materials?’ He backed her against the wall and placed a hand above her head.

'What?’ Her eyes flashed. Fuck. He would never get over her. He towered her, and yet she tipped, her chin up, relentless and unyielding.

He got his cock and the brain cells connected to it under control somehow. 'Are you not mad about the article or about the discussion earlier and you’re just projecting?’

'Don’t fucking discount the validity of my feelings!’ A hard shove from her took him by surprise, but he didn’t go far. 'I’ve told you enough times that I am not mad about the article. And the decision about Maiya is done.’ She made a cut off motion with her hand.

'I feel like you’re lying.’ He believed her. He believed she believed what she was saying. But after the breakdown she’d had and the shortcomings he’d realized, he would rather make sure. And the only way to get anything out of y/n when she was in denial, was by pushing her.

It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t very healthy either. But he refused to go backwards.

'Oh for fucks sake!’ She grabbed onto his lapels and tried to bring herself to his height pushing herself to her tiptoes. 'Namjoon,’ she softened her tone, his name a caress, 'the party was fake. Everything you did… was fake. You told me. Jin told me. Yoongi told me. The maknaes told me. Even Kenta vouched for you, that the whole thing was fake. And I kinda knew.’ Tired, she sat back on her heels and looked away.

'But Maiya wasn’t fake. I was mad about Maiya and I hated that article because I know it wasn’t fake, she actually had your cock in her mouth and she flaunted it.’

She pulled away from him, and faced the window on her right. She hugged herself as she watched the city lights below her.

'You’re an idol Namjoon. You’re a freaking loved idol. Some women are actually crazy enough to kill me to make sure you’re available for the off chance that you could fall for them. There’s not much that can scare you about the media after six years. So the article.’ She clicked her tongue, much like his Yoongi hyung would, after a nonsense statement, 'sand through my hand.’

Meaning it had already fallen through the cracks of her fingers and would not be picked up again.

His hands found her hips, and pulled her body flush against him. One, because he knew her quick fuse was almost out, and two, because he couldn’t bear to not hold her in his arms. As far as he knew, she was in his imagination, a figment, a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

'I’m sorry, for accusing you.’ He placed a chaste peck on her exposed shoulder. 'I’m just rattled. I’m just,’ he closed his eyes ‘… Fuck!’

He hid his face in her hair. How did he explain? That he was being himself, as he was before the cheating, but still didn’t know if he was saying the right things, doing the right things, making it worse, pushing her away…

He felt her turn in his hold and placed gentle fingers on his nape. 'Scared,’ she whispered against his lips, when he opened his eyes to look at her. 'I know. I caused this. And I’m sorry it’s become this voice in your head.’ She placed her forehead against his jaw, 'but I am telling the truth. I am not mad about that article. Our family discussed things today… and made a choice. I have to accept that, even if it breaks my heart.’

He inhaled her scent, and reveled in her touch, she held herself to him, she held him to the Earth.

'We have the weight of our world on our shoulders, Joon. If I’m not honest with you, especially about my feelings, all of this is for nothing.’

He flexed his hand on her hip, enjoying the feel of her, the proximity, she responded by getting closer. 'I’m sorry for going to see Heeyoung behind your back.’

'I’m sorry for threatening your suppliers behind yours.’ His fingers grazed the edge of her waistline, the exposed skin forming tiny bumps of goose flesh.

'Oreos?’ She moved her head back and forth, brushing her hair against his jawline.

'Coffee.’ He replied instantly, feeling… safe and somehow feeling… claimed.

He felt her fingers lock behind his neck and he pulled her flush against him.

'So…’ she lifted her head, 'how much did it cost to get the studio lawyers to handle the legalities?’

He almost smiled at her stubbornness. 'If I don’t tell you, you’ll phone Ji-ho and compensate me accordingly anyway.’

She shook her head. ‘Arem will.’

Hmm. 'Arem paying RM.’ He snorted at the homophone and conceded. 'I’ll get you the figures.’

She tilted her head to the side and smirked at him.

'What?’ He brushed his lips against her forehead, curious to know what was going through his head.

'RM. Real Me.’

He scrunched his eyebrows. 'What about it?’

'I mean, it could stand for… other things.’

'Like?’

Her hand moved to cup his cheek, and she tipped up her head to speak against his lips.

'I feel it’s more like… Rail Me.’

He closed his eyes and let out a groan. 'I should get sainthood for having any sort of willpower against you.’

She peppered kisses along his jaw, ’… if you didn’t have willpower… what would you do?’

His hand splayed across her back, keeping her flush against him, his other hand cupped her ass. 'Are we really doing this?’ He growled. 'After our conversation yesterday? Are you sure? You have to be sure.’

'I am.’

He searched her face for any indication, anything at all, that refuted her consent.

'Y/n…’ He breathed.

'No. No more waiting. I’m doing what you asked.’

He wanted to listen to her, he wanted her, but he would not get this wrong, 'I don’t think you’re ready to sleep with me again, baby.’

'But that,’ she nipped at him, 'is up to me. Right?’

Her bite, as light as it was, made its way straight to his cock and he answered with it in mind. 'Right.’

Not waiting for any further explanation, she continued, 'So tell me, what would you do if you didn’t have willpower.’

He pressed his hand to the glass behind her and pushed her up against it, caging her in. A masculine part of him stretched languidly at his actions, that part of him watching, and waiting, and willing for more. 'I can’t hold back, y/n,’ he ground out, 'it’s been too long without you…’

'Namjoon.’ Her hands moved to tug on his hair. ‘What would you do to me?’

His fingers curled around her nape, and he responded with the two words that started this. 'I’d rail you.’

Unphased, she moved her hands to his chest, enjoying the feel of him, 'Jin will not be very happy,’ she rubbed her cheek on his jaw, 'with us doing it on the gym floor.’ Pulling back, she bit her lip, aiming to tease, and succeeding. 'Think of his carpets.’

'The carpets and my hyung,’ he hissed, 'are the last things on my mind… when you’re biting your lip the way you are.’

'You don’t play fair, either.’ He felt her leg curl around his calf. 'Do you have any idea how good you look in black?’

'Don’t throw stones baby,’ his freehand moved to brush a finger across her nipple, 'you’re not using a bra under this shirt.’

He elicited a gasp from her. 'Because I had a sweater over this.’

'… and now your nipples are poking through your shirt. What if I bit one of them right now?’ He whispered.

She clearly didn’t think through her response. 'Why don’t you?’

His eyes snapped to hers. 'Don’t push me. Your dirty mouth has been crossing lines even before today.’ He pulled back, trying to leash his harsh tone, 'I don’t want to hurt you, y/n.’

'Aww, but you said I had pretty lips yesterday.’

His pulse hammered, he could feel he thrum of it, because the fucking sass on this woman. His woman. 'They get you in your fair share of trouble.’ He didn’t bother to bring back the last time they spoke about her lips. Then again, the separation of the two subject matters seemed to help.

'You never had a problem with that.’ Desire coated her gaze, dripping from her words. He wanted to rip her clothes off and make good on his word for baiting him.

'I don’t. It makes sinking my cock into you much more enjoyable.’ He flexed the palm at her head, as it rested against the window. If he wrapped it in her hair, this would be over. She would be on the floor, legs spread and she wouldn’t stop him.

She leaned back, dropping her head against the glass, 'Joon.’ The mental image didn’t help him either, if the tightness in his pants was any indication.

She was so close. Her knee between his legs, just barely reaching his hard on. Her one hand on his chest, the other cradling his jaw.

He rubbed his jaw along her chest, 'Fuck, I miss touching you. And I miss being inside you.’

She shivered as her lips parted and her breaths became uneven.

He pressed an open mouthed kiss on the base of her neck and when her fingers clawed at his back, he felt it through his shirt. Y/n, as independent as she was, enjoyed submitting. That didn’t mean she would ever come quietly.

Biting the juncture between her shoulder and neck to reprimand her, her body arched against him.

'Baby,’ he whispered, trailing his nose along her jaw, and stopping directly in front of her lips. 'Tell me to stop. If this isn’t working and it’s not good for you…. tell me to stop.’

She answered by leaning forward to kiss his forehead and made her way down to his lips.

Her gentleness was just a ruse, he soon found out, when she teased his front with her nails. His hips jerked in a slight reaction.

He growled, ‘You’ll pay for that.’ He made her do exactly that when he moved his head and bit her nipple through her shirt.

Her back arched, inadvertently pushing her breasts closer. 'Namjoon,’ she inhaled sharply at the sting, but she leaned further into him.

‘Say my name just like that.’ Her hands moved to cradle his head as he sucked hard at the nipple that was between his teeth. She moaned this time, and the sound went straight to his throbbing cock.

This was heaven for Namjoon. His brain brought up a surge of memories of his wife being vulnerable and open and pliant, her moans and her screams, calling out his name like a mantra, the tears that were caused by the overwhelming pleasure and love they shared… Only he had that right, only he had that claim, no one was ever allowed to have her like this.

It only just occurred to him when he saw how easily she let him in, that her body would be pining for him as much as he was for her.

And if the rush of sensation would overwhelm her with pleasure, help her fight her thoughts and her demons, he’d be damned if he didn’t do a good job of it.

Truth be told, he wanted to reach between them and shove his fingers into her panties, but he knew she’d be wet and ready, and he would probably go insane. He was a law unto himself when Y/n was involved. His logic, calm, clarity… all out the fucking window.

So he fought for his control as he reached for her neglected nipple and played with the hard bud with his fingers.

She whimpered when he pinched hard and she tightened her hold in retaliation. 'Fucking tease.’

He felt his lips lift at the corners. God, he loved her, and he loved her breasts. He loved her ass and he loved y/n and he loved so many more things, but her breasts in his hands, in his hold, fuck they were so sexy, she was so sexy.

He let go and used both thumbs to rub across both nipples flicking hard.

'Fuck,’ she groaned, letting him do whatever he wanted, as he wanted, but not for long.

Y/n was not an easy lover, she would beg, and whimper, and give and give and keep giving, but she also knew when to bite, when to demand, and when to take when she wanted.

She tugged hard at the strands of his hair so he met her eyes and no one, not even the voice in his mind could dispute the fire and the need in them.

Deep inside of him, elation broke through the haze of arousal, because his lover, his wife, his y/n was coming back to him. This was all her. And she was allhis.

'Catch.’ She hopped, and he instinctively caught both her legs, crossing them over his thighs and pulled her further into the heat of his body.

He took advantage, the feel of her fueling him, and pushed his hard on at the softness between her legs, rocking his hips into hers in a harsh motion. ‘Fuck,’ he groaned. And he did it again when she cried out.

He loved her moans and her cries, it drove him in a way nothing else would in the bedroom. Chasing her pleasure, chasing her release, watching her come undone under, so uniquely satisfying.

As he rocked into her, teasing, their breaths mingling, his cock threatening to burst out of his pants, he realized how far this was going.

If he didn’t stop… but he couldn’t think, he couldn’t think of the logic that they were in the gym, at the dorm, that he was fueling a need they both held back from and craved for so long, there was no stopping if he continued. He ground against her core anyway, and her back arched harshly against the glass, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, completely lost in the sensations he was causing. She chased her high with his ministrations.

When she finally opened her eyes, he saw the frustration, and reveled in it, because y/n was no longer teasing. She was not toying with him. She wanted to cum. He resisted the urge to plaster a feral smirk on his face at the satisfaction.

She wrapped her arms around his back and surged forward, squeezing his backside with her crossed legs, stopping a hair’s breadth away from his lips, her tongue running across the bottom one, 'Kiss me.’

Thank fuck. She was breathless and needy and all his. He wanted to kiss her. To taste her. To mark her –

'Hyung, the food is – AH!’

Her legs dropped from around his waist, as they broke apart. Only his hands on her ass kept her upright against him, or she would have fallen flat when Jimin walked in.

'Fuck!’ He growled out in frustration, as the hyung of the maknae line walked out the same door before it could swing shut.

Namjoon was breathing hard against her forehead, and y/n was in no better shape, her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, her pupils blown wide with arousal. Neither of them went after Jimin.

The thought only came to him, when the momentary fog faded, whispers of their arousal still dancing around them.

He knew this fear, the apprehension he tried not to show. After dancing around each other for so long, would it be too soon to play a happy couple, would it be weird for any of their family to see them kissing or doing more than the hugs and the hand holding.

The last thing they wanted was to make anyone uncomfortable. ‘Steady?’ he asked her, but it came out more like a rumble.

She licked her bottom lip, a breathless, ‘Yeah,’ leaving her lips and he dropped his hands.

He nodded and swallowed hard, ‘Go on ahead, I, uh… I need a minute.’ He placed a hand on the glass in front of him, sinking into the cool touch at his fingertips as he tried to get his raging hard on under control. They were literally going to have sex in the gym of dorm.

A knowing smirk formed on her lips and she moved completely out of his arms to follow their maknae, but before she could take a step to the door, they heard Jimin from down the hall.

'Jin hyung! Y/n and Namjoon hyung are being ugly in the gym!’

He looked at y/n, at the same time she turned to him and their eye contact was immediate, Matching grins broke out a second later.

Y/n dropped her head onto his chest and he felt the vibrations of her laughter as she relaxed into him again.

He enclosed her in his embrace as warmth bloomed in his chest at the sound, her laughter curling around his heart like a blanket. This was y/n, this was his wife, this was home. The moment may have been ruined. But it would happen again, he’d have a lifetime to prove his love to her.

'Jin hyung’s gonna kill us,’ he murmured against her hair.

'Nope.’ She giggled, unrepentant, 'Jin’s gonna kill you.’

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Part 23 || Vindication

~~Part 23.5 - Crisscross~~

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#bts aus #bts namjoon #bts au fanfic #bts angst #kim namjoon #bts au #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon x you #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon x reader #bts kim namjoon #bts smut #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #bts jimin #park jimin

Sat, 09 Apr 2022 16:28:30

Nerve || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Part 23.5- Crisscross

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Part 22.5 - Yami Y/n

~~Part 23 || Vindication~~

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);

Word Count - 6.3k

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A/N - Additional Warning - The topics in the following update hit closer to home for some of us than I care to admit. Should the concept of future disbandment be a trigger, I suggest treading carefully.

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‘No, you’re incorrect, you fuck!’ You slammed the damned laptop closed after trying your password three times.

You glared in Jimin’s direction and your hand twitched for the stapler when you heard his loud convulsive laughter from opposite the table.

Instead of following through, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 'Jiminie,’ you placed a saccharine smile on your face, still not opening your eyes, 'shut the fuckup.’

For the life of you, you couldn’t remember your password. It was muscle memory for the longest time and the desktop showed up on its own some days. But today, when you actually needed to get into the work laptop, you couldn’t remember your password.

'What do you expect me to do, when you react like that. It’s entertaining to me.’

You frowned, but didn’t reply. A part of you was happy you made him laugh, but your more serious side needed to know what your executive assistant was up your ass about. Ria had been blowing up your phone all morning. The woman was supposed to be enjoying her Christmas holidays away from the snow in the bustle of Mumbai and yet, she was texting you at odd hours of the morning to check your mail.

A part of you felt ashamed, being a business owner meant that work didn’t stop and there should always be an open door for communication, but your last few weeks were a whirlwind to say the least and your first baby, your Arem, was being neglected.

The company was still standing, of course, you had the best staff, a loyal right-hand like Ria and a legal and PR team at the ready, but it deserved more attention when the new year kicked off.

'Close your eyes and do it.’ Jimin suggested from his sunk-in position in the office chair. His back was going to hurt later.

'Yeah, if it’s muscle memory, it’ll work.’ Tae backed him up from his position on the couch, at your right, his finger swiping aimlessly on one of his socials.

The soulmates had accompanied you to work, which wouldn’t even be an option if Ria just fucking told you what the issue was. The problem arose when you realized your work email wasn’t signed in on your phone. So work was the next best bet, because your work email was signed onto the work laptop. Usually you’d sync the devices, but it wasn’t working for some reason. And the only device automatically signed in…at work. Hence, your predicament. Technology was a blessing and a curse.

You threw your hands up in the air. 'I’m not usually like this! You know I keep lists and passwords and I know what’s going on.’

Taehyung shrugged. 'Chill, everyone forgets their passwords.’

You caught Jimin’s gaze and he motioned to the laptop with his eyes. Oh yeah. You were supposed to close your eyes and input your password.

Incorrect.

‘Fuck this!’ you pulled out your phone, having no choice but to get in touch with your IT department head.

Y/n [10.31] : Seo-Hyun, apologies for being an inconvenience on your holiday, but can you give me access to my work laptop please.

Seo-Hyun [10.32] : Do you ever take a break? Also, this is the third time this year I’m overriding on a day off. Did you forget again?

Y/n [10.33] : If you double up, I’ll get your department that expensive cappuccino machine you’ve been raving about.

Y/n [10.33] : Please.

Y/n [10.33] : I’ll explain at our annual meeting.

Seo-Hyun [10.34] : Give me a couple of minutes.

Y/n [10.34] : I’ll put the order in ASAP.

‘Are you sure you typed it in right?’ Tae asked, as you drummed your nails on the table in wait.

You nodded, feeling too antsy to reply. Ria was a professional. A cold, calculated, meticulous professional. She wouldn’t push if it wasn’t urgent, but also, if it was that urgent why couldn’t she just tell you.

‘Okay,’ Tae came to stand at your table, ‘how about, close your eyes, and as you feel the distance between the keys, open your eyes and make sure you press the correct one. So one key at a time.’

‘Come on, we’ll do it with you.’ Jimin leaned over the table toward you.

Tae clicked on the spacebar. ‘What’s your password?’

‘AremArc, shift, the first three numbers on the top.’

Tae and Jimin met each other’s eyes and then yours. ‘How the hell are you going to remember that type of password.’

‘It’s always been AremArc,’ you averted your gaze, ‘it was my dad’s, I just added the numbers.’

Sensing the change in your tone, they let the subject drop immediately. In all honesty, you didn’t have an explanation as to why you carried over your dad’s password. It just felt weird to notuse it.

Taehyung moved to cover your eyes with his hand and Jimin pulled your hands forward to hover at the keyboard.

‘Okay, feel it out.’

You rested the front of your wrists directly in front of the spacebar, following Jimin’s words, you typed without thinking.

You knew the Arem had a capital letter, Jimin helped with that, the Arc had another and then Tae held the shift button while you typed in the numbers.

‘Ah, you hesitated!’ Taehyung exclaimed.

Opening your eyes you watched your fingers hover over the numbers. Your ring finger felt right, as it rested on the ‘1’, the middle finger on the ‘2’ but your forefinger was…off. It was curved to match the ‘3’, but you didn’t remember curving the finger. Straightening it out, your forefinger met the ‘4’ and that felt right. A side glance affirmed that Tae still had the shift key down, so you tapped on the ‘4’.

Almost immediately the desktop came into view.

‘Well,’ Tae straightened up and crossed his arms. ‘We see why it was such a mission before.’

‘Thank you,’ You muttered ruefully, trying to hide your smile as Jimin reached over to fistbump his soulmate.

Looking back at your screen, you watched as a mouse moved on the screen of its own accord and a white pop up box requesting the change of your password was ticked. Seo-Hyun’s teamviewer did it’s thing and you panicked for your phone to tell her you got in.

'Check your stuff,’ Jimin reminded you, ‘it’s almost time to leave for the studio.’

'Actually,’ your doors swung open, revealing Seokjin, 'we just decided to crash here.’

One by one, they found a place in your office, as if they’d been here a hundred times and felt right at home.

You raised your eyebrows. 'I don’t recall giving anyone access.’

Unbothered, Jungkook plopped himself next to Tae, who returned to his original seat, Hoseok lounged opposite them, his arms spread wide across the back of the sofa and crossed legs on the table in front of him. Yoongi went to stand by your floor length windows, Jin came to stand by your chair, Namjoon sat on your desk on your right after pressing a light kiss to your hair and Ji-ho, your favorite lawyer, placed his books on your desk, evidently claiming the office chair, next to Jimin.

Your question might imply such, but you were far from annoyed. Your family was allowed in any of your spaces at any time, but you were confused as to how they got in.

During the holiday season, only you and necessary personnel knew the codes to get in and out, unless you trusted someone enough to share them.

None of the band members had codes to your company, not even Namjoon, because business was business. They were idols, a band, your architecture firm was not on their daily route, not even Hoseok and Jin.

Hurudid have access… depending, because it would be futile to not give him a code considering he frequented Arem to update you and he was capable of acquiring any access codes on his own. Why fool yourself and waste either of your time?

The only other person who had access to any location you frequented and reason to make calls and perform actions without clearing it with you was – 'Kenta,’ Jin tapped your chair and answered your statement.

That one word puts you at ease. Kenta would have been subtle. Satisfied with the answer, you leaned back in your leather chair, and rested your elbows on either side, like a lady in wait.

'Why the location change?’ Jimin voiced your next question.

‘I don’t come here often.’ Ji-ho answered, as if that was enough explanation. ‘I love your view, y/n.’ He walked around the office, stopping to scan your shelf, his finger brushing across your Map of the Seven 7 Album before rounding on you. 'Can I visit you anytime?’

Namjoon gave him the side-eye.

Ji-ho played up his serious persona, but even you could see the glint in his eye.‘You know,’ he put both hands in his pockets, blatantly ignoring Namjoon’s gaze, ‘if ever paperwork needs signing… or have a heart to heart or… something.’

‘Okay, let’s cut to the chase.’ Every single member smirked as Namjoon turned fully to Ji-ho who held his hands up in surrender.

Namjoon tried to be playful, you could see a smirk playing at the side of his lips, but it wasn’t genuine.

You could do nothing but shake your head at the situation.

Logically speaking, Ji-ho was a very handsome male, single, in a good job with impeccable financial wit and an open personality, but he would never make a move on you, he was very loyal to Namjoon and friends with him for a long time. But Namjoon, well… he was not logical when you were involved and even banter was a thin-ice sort of thing. Hoseok, Jin, the maknaes, even Yoongi, Namjoon would be fine with alone visits, but despite the deep friendship, Ji-ho was not family, he was not Kenta, and he existed outside the small circle of people Namjoon would trust blindly.

There was a difference with your husband. He loved deep, and he loved in levels. Love was love and trust was trust. Blind, unquestionable trust was a different tier.

Reaching over to lace your fingers through his, he looked down at you, a warm smile gracing his features, but his eyes were hard, serious, slightly protective even.

You were reminded all over again, of how deeply embedded he was in your existence, how there would never and could never be anyone else. The past was the past. It had to be. You had a future to build with this man.

Ji-ho made his way to his seat and placed three different booklets in front of Namjoon. Within those seconds, as a unit, the energy in the room shifted. It could practically be felt, the way the band stood at attention, despite their relaxed stances.

‘Wait!’ Seokjin stopped Ji-ho just as he opened his mouth. 'I brought bubble wrap.’

True enough, Jin pulled out a piece of bubble wrap from his coat pocket.

'Why do you need bubble wrap?’ Ji-ho asked with genuine confusion.

'For y/n.’ Jin passed it over. 'Bubble wrap relaxes her.’

You giddily, made grabby hands and started popping them one by one, quietly and in sequence.

'Okay. So. What does everyone know?’

'Wait, wait,’ Taehyung interrupted Ji-ho, 'Jin hyung, we’ll be using swear words.’

It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t lost on anyone that Taehyung was not asking for permission.

'Since we’re being honest, hyung.’ Jimin came to his soulmate’s aid.

'Namjoon?’ The man in question turned his chin toward the leader.

Your husband looked down at you and you shrugged. Swear words and blunt talk did nothing for you or to you. You preferred it.

Namjoon pressed, 'Are you comfortable with that?’

You assured him. 'I’ve thought worse.’

'And said it.’ Jimin muttered under his breath.

You kicked him under the table and felt satisfaction at his soft 'Ow’.

'Hyung,’ Namjoon addressed his Jin, 'no language barriers since this is an open and honest discussion.’

Seokjin sighed. 'I need bubble wrap too.’

'Okay,’ Ji-ho, started, 'again,’ he looked around the room, searching for any opening mouths and add ons, 'What do we know?’

The answers came fast.

'That Namjoon hyung cheated at a bar sometime in October.’ Jungkook stated.

You didn’t even flinch, neither did Namjoon. Props to both of you. Either it was getting better, you were stronger, or maybe it was because of who stated it, Jungkook held no malice in his tone. He’d just stated a fact.

Smart move. Coming from a hyung, it could have been taken as disappointment, from a maknae, as judgment, but Jungkook was one of the maknaes that provided clarity instead of further confusion. Fact was fact. That’s all it was now. Namjoon had cheated. It was time to move on.

'That the bitch signed two NDAs one of which cannot be used against her and the second has a partial loophole to work with.’ Hoseok looked to be sucking on a sweet in his mouth, the round shape of it being pushed to either cheek when he spoke, 'She also submitted photos via her brother, which we got on video feed from Heeyoung.’

'Maiya makes herself look put together,’ Yoongi has his back turned to everyone, hands in his pockets as he watched the skyline before him, 'but she’s had a hard life, a hard past and despite her job, she makes it look like she comes from money, which we all initially thought, but she’s struggling and she’s taking care of her problematic brother.’

'A brother who was down the wrong path and caught in such, and is still on the run.’ You felt Jin’s hand by your head, on the back of your chair. 'She kept blaming a roommate that she supposedly had and now can’t be found. A bullshit story if we’ve ever heard one.’ Jin derided without humor, 'Why lie if you can’t do it properly?’ He asked no one in particular.

'Her lawyer fell off the face of the earth after leaving a prestigious company and has probably washed her hands of her brother’s case. So,’ Jimin clicked his tongue, 'no way out, no end in sight. A bar, an idol, money, … five seconds of fame.’

'So she’s broke, desperate and sees Namjoon hyung as an opening,’ Taehyung stands up, and walks around Hoseok’s couch, 'she wants to wash her hands off the situation once she signs the NDA and gets her money and payment from the company for keeping her mouth shut, maybe to save her brother to pay that lawyer, or buy a new life altogether…’ he stops next to his Yoongi hyung. 'But then she gets vindictive when we dismiss her. Greedy. Manipulative.’

'But we have y/n’s NDA,’ you felt Namjoon’s pride in you, his tone holding nothing back, 'with an acute connection, but a connection nonetheless, which we enforce.’

And ruin her.

You blinked at the intrusive thought. Blowing out a breath, quickly and quietly so as not to draw any attention from the men beside you, you pushed the negativity away. Yes, you hated her. You wanted to wring her fucking neck, truly and probably go to far. Even then, you might not feel remorse. In reality you weren’t capable of such cruelty, but that didn’t mean you weren’t angry.

'Alright,’ Ji-ho clapped his hand together, 'everyone’s on par.’

He pulled forward one of the booklets and entered lawyer mode. 'Well, let’s not beat around the bush, the brother is going to be taken into custody, we know this. He can’t clear his name. And he’s racked up quite the rap sheet.’ He picked up what looked like a criminal record and scanned it quickly before putting it back. 'Unfortunately,’ he looked up at you and sighed. 'There is nothing that can be done to save him, from what I know, because there are no witnesses on his side, the owner caught him fair and square and the video feed wasn’t working.’

Steepling his fingers, he watched as Yoongi moved to stand behind Jin, leaning casually against the wall, hands still in his pocket.

You understood. Some felt closer to others. Some felt more protective of others. It was why Jin leaned on your office chair, his forearms crossed over the back as he loomed over you. Yoongi behind him.

Hoseok and Jungkook were up and both leaning on the back of a single seater couch, crossed arms, facing you.

'We have to remember that it’s deep in the holiday season.’ The lawyer leaned back in his chair as Taehyung, last to form the protective circle, sat on your desk, his feet on the space of Jimin’s chair. It was a laughable situation. There was enough space, but everyone practically hovered over one another and it felt… right. 'The best I could do from my side was get a signature from our CEO on a written document stating the threat of her being sued and that she could be required to pay’ he reached over to open the second booklet, 'financial damages and related costs, as we have stated.’ He put the page down. Most probably a mock up of her NDA.

'Why can’t things be simple?’ Hoseok rolled his eyes in impatience.

You tilted your head to the side. Your Hobi, lovely Hobi, filled with so much love. The person that would eventually feel the full force of that love, would be truly blessed.

'If only.’ Taehyung derided after his hyungs annoyed statement.

'So now, we just have another pending issue.’ Jin asked pointedly, his arms crossed, making him out to be the hyung with the most business sense and legal knowledge.

'Well, yeah, I can’t call a court in session in the middle of the holiday, hyung, especially one of this magnitude. It’s not like we’re on a remand list. This is new.’ Ji-ho held his own against the oldest irritation. 'This band, even a minor picture, of someone unknown, a random fact that could be taken negatively, would cause uproar. Your fans are… passionate.’

You dropped your face to hide your smile and popped another couple of bubbles slowly.

Internally, you cheered Ji-ho on. The boys were very protective of their ARMY. Rightly so. But being a part of them, having your own hidden stan Twitter, having read Tumblr fanfic and seen reactions first-hand, some of them were borderline problematic and delusional.

The good ones made up for it. Yeah. Some of the soft stans were so loving and pure. Some of the hardstans were the most honest and savage. They made up for it.

'So, I will enforce this as soon as I can, and I will in no way back down, or settle for any sum of money because,’ he looked at you and Namjoon, 'it’s the two of you. Regardless of the shortcomings you see in yourselves, you are two upstanding citizens in society. You, y/n, represent yourself, a progressive female that develops the community and country, and you represent Namjoon, as a backbone of the band, his family and the leader that he is. Namjoon I don’t need to explain to you who you are.

Because of this, a case like this would draw a lot of attention. She would not look good of course, but neither will we.’

You liked how he said 'we’. As a company you would face this. Together.

'The question,’ Ji-ho stood up, and walked to the center of the room, addressing all of you at once, 'will be why are we going so hard, why are we pushing for this.’

'But first,’ he looked at Yoongi, 'What are NDAs?’

The man looked mildly startled, but replied after clearing his throat. 'Non-disclosure agreements.’

'Yes, but what do they stand for.’

'They’re a barrier.’ Namjoon narrowed his eyes, following Ji-ho’s prompting. 'They safeguard, doing their best to keep them in place as well as state consequences of crossing those barriers.’

'Exactly.’ A curl of his lip on one end, and then poker face. 'If we enforce this NDA, the consequences for Maiya Song will already be taking place.’ He motioned with his hands, from one position to another. Moving from one side to the other. You blinked. Like crossing a bridge.

Jin straightened up so fast you felt a draft by the movement. 'Which means there’s no barrier.’

His tone had your eyes widening.

'Which means she can reveal that I cheated.’ Namjoon mimicked his hyungs tone.

The realization was heavy, and caused internal panic to start building within you. Because how the fuck could you be so stupid.

Ji-ho stood in front of your family, unnerved. 'I am here with paperwork that I will get to processing in the new year, and I will take her down. I needed all of you, because I am asking the seven of you… to think about this again.’ You watched his eyes move to each face. 'Because once Namjoon is labeled a cheater, there is significant risk for not only him, but for this band.’

The silence that descended on your family… was deafening.

This was… this was new information. You wanted to laugh. Hysterically so. The bubble wrap discarded on your desk you viewed the small samurai sword set in front of you.

Yoongi had gifted you those. For the longest time, Yoongi kept you at arms length. It was who he was. Because he cared about his band, he cared about his brothers and his music. No one had the right to ruin that.

But here you were, getting justice, for a fucking blowjob, being vindictive, letting them go through with this when the world could turn against them.

They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t get it. Namjoon was not a bad person. Namjoon was the best human being. He was so much more than just a leader and a millionaire and an idol. He wove dreams from threads as delicate as spiderwebs, he valued the world around him, his surroundings, his family, his parents and his brothers, his life, his heart, his soul was built on the monumental victories of sharing his feelings, of his words translating onto paper, to create new meanings, to create a safety net that held people to the Earth between life and death.

People needed to see that. People needed to understand. One mistake didn’t undo his rights. And that one mistake couldn’t steal six other futures.

You felt the sting at the edge of your eye. Your throat tightened at the thought of any of their realities being altered.

The mere potential of someone pushing them into early retirement, the alarm that made wee-woo fucking sounds in your brain sounded out at the thought of the band nolo her being a band.

No comeback. No more harmonies and concepts. No tours. No concerts. Separate ways.

You looked up at Namjoon, almost hyperventilating, in his separate lifestyle he’d choose music, composing, mentoring, producing like Yoongi, but none of it, absolutely none of it would go smoothly if he was labeled a cheater.

'Well, we’ve had a good run.’ Jungkook pulled you out of your thoughts.

The last person you expected to say something like that.

'Excuse me?’ You seethed. Clenching your fists to keep from growling at the maknae.

He met your hard stare, unflinching. 'We have.’

'No,’ you stood up and pushed your chair back with enough force to send it backwards. 'Hello. This,’ you pointed at everyone, including him, 'is the band. The fucking band, we are talking about. I don’t need to say the full fucking name for any of you to know what I’m emphasising.’ You felt Namjoon’s hand at your back and closed your eyes to take a deep shuddering breath. Tears spilled out of your eyes. You couldn’t pinpoint why. 'This changes everything, Ji-ho.’

'I can’t believe we didn’t think of this.’ Jin whispered next to you as if you weren’t shouting.

'Realistically speaking,’ Namjoon mumbled, 'as cocky as it may sound, I have pulled in the industry. I would be the known face, and she would be the outsider.’ His voice grew loud. 'Therefore my supposed story is more believable.’

Ji-ho shook his head. 'You’d still be under scrutiny. Everything would change. You would not be the desired, saintlike, grounded, humble male that everyone sees of you.’

'You will hear words like, 'I knew something was wrong with him.“ You scoffed, willing yourself to stop leaking fucking tears when you weren’t crying. Frustration was a helluva bitch.

'Somethingis wrong with me.’ He plastered his body against yours. 'I cheated on my wife. I did the wrong thing. I deserve anything I get for it.’

You attempted to shrug out of his hold as he grabbed a tissue to wipe your cheeks. 'This isn’t just about you.’ Grabbing the tissue from your husband’s hand, you turned back to Ji-ho. 'Don’t do it.’

'Now, y/n,’ he offered you an apologetic smile, 'unfortunately, your say in this, has to be put aside. I need the band’s consent. Management will be on your asses as soon as I get this paperwork to them, you all know this.’

Yoongi pushed off the wall. 'Why does it sound like you’re convincing us to not sue her?’

Was he out of his mind? The most ruthless of the group. The most protective. Was he actually considering going through with this?

'I adore y/n, hyung. But this isn’t just about your band. This is the intent of the message you carry across in your songs, this is the validity of your statements, these are profits, and finance, and stocks. It’s tourism and globalization. This band is not just a band.’

No one could dispute his statement.

'This is a family first, before a band.’ Jin stood tall, taking his place as the solid head of a structure. 'We understand where Ji-ho is coming from. So, everyone… thoughts.’

Taehyung waved his hand. 'Sue the bitch.’

'Y/n deserves justice.’ Jimin didn’t look up, his finger tracing a pattern on Taehyung’s pants.

'Hey now, wait –,’ you protested.

'We’ll survive,’ Hoseok raised his eyebrow at you, 'we can do other things.’

They were being so nonchalant, so agreeable. What the fuck!

Jungkook nodded to Ji-ho. 'Do your thing, hyung.’

'Guys, stop!’ You shouted, but no one seemed to be listening.

'Priorities change.’ Yoongi added. Somehow the two words said so much.

'That’s it!’ You banged the table. 'Are you all crazy? We can’t have anyone knowing exactly what happened.’

'Baby,’ Namjoon soothed, crowding you with his presence, his scent, his hand on your thigh.

He was calling to you so calmly. As if you weren’t in a frenzy, as if the consequences be damned.

You broke out of his hold and walked up to Ji-ho threateningly. 'Fuck that bitch. And fuck her brother and fuck what happened. Whatever. It’s over. She doesn’t have any other leverage, since she handed the pictures. The NDA is still in place to make sure she keeps her cock sucking mouth shut and she has her money.’ You breathed hard as you offloaded on the lawyer who looked taken aback. You didn’t care. You didn’t give a fuck.

Raising a shaky hand, you pointed a threatening finger in his face. 'You will save this band. And you will save my husband. We are not risking this.’ You closed your hand into a fist and turned away, hands on your hips. The emotions churned inside you as you held your head. Feeling a fresh wave of vindication, you whipped back to him. 'Let her go. Let her brother go. Fuck her lawyer and her case. Screw her plans, fuck her life, and fuck her fucking lipstick color, just fuck it!’

Namjoon grabbed your arm and pulled you into his hold before you could say anymore. Shaking like a leaf, you hid in his jacket, in his warmth, wanting to scream at the new developments and downright refusing to accept the end of one of most glorious eras you had ever had the blessing to experience.

You dared not peep at Namjoon. You knew what you would find. Sadness and resignation only, as he held you so close to his heart. His arms around you were so tight, it was as if he wanted to keep you there forever. He started rocking from side to side and kissed your forehead.

'You’re going to court Ji-ho.’

You attempted to push out of his hold, your panic rising again, but he held strong, he held you to him. He was making himself clear, he would be making this decision. He would not listen to you.

'Namjoon,’ you tried shoved at his chest and tried to protest, but it came out muffled.

'No.’ He held strong at your neck and met your eye. 'I’ve wronged you. And you have done enough for me and this family. It’s time for us to show you how much we love you. It’s time for change.’

'ARMY’s –,’

’– will understand.’ Jin completed for you.

You looked above Namjoon’s shoulder blade to see your comfort human offer a sad smile.

You closed your eyes and stopped shoving, burying yourself in Namjoons hold.

'I am human, y/n.’ He sounded like he was reminding himself as much as you. 'And if your true love can accept that, and make sense of it, then my real fans will. If it comes out.’

'Joon, please.’ You whispered into his shoulder.

'Shh,’ he rocked you again. He kissed your forehead again. 'Shh.’

In any other setting, with anyone else, you would never let anyone see what power Namjoon had over you, but you couldn’t care, this time, power dynamics were the least of your problems.

'Unless…’ Yoongi murmured.

Your eyes snapped open to the male behind Jin.

'Unless what?’ Jin voiced your question.

'Namjoon makes a statement instead.’ Yoongi looked behind you, silently asking Ji-ho for his opinion.

'Take the ball completely out of her court.’ A deep respect laced the words that came from behind you.

'No.’ You shook your head stubbornly. 'As admirable and as brave as that is. We’d rather not go that far.’

What was the use? The consequences racing through your mind was for a 'what if’ situation. If Namjoon put out a statement, it would be a sure thing.

Namjoon shifted you back, keeping you at arm’s length. 'You trust me right. Right, y/n?’

'I do.’ The words left your lips, as your fingers dug into his forearm. You were under scrutiny. Such a question, in such a setting, a moment’s hesitation would have been warranted, and it would have made a world of difference.

But the fact that you could answer, as you looked into your husband’s face and held onto his hands, in front of your whole family, without doubt – it was a testament to the strength of the foundation of your marriage.

Namjoon leaned forward, an arm curling around your waist, a thumb and forefinger tipping up your chin. 'Will you leave me,’ he breathed against you, 'when the world thinks bad of me?’

The refutation was instant. 'No!’ Your hands curled into fists on his jacket. 'We’re in this together.’

A slow smirk graced his face and uplifted your heart. He brushed his nose against yours and… you crumbled. Closing your eyes, taking in the feel of him, his unshakeable resolve wafted over you. That easily, the fight was lost to you.

'Ji-ho.’ Your husband lifted his head and said after a moment. 'A statementif things go south.’

'I’ll inform the authorities about her brother. And send the letter thereafter.’

You could feel Ji-ho move, stopping directly behind you. You felt a gentle hand on your hair a second later.

'Sleep with one eye open, Ji-ho.’ You threatened lowly.

Namjoon’s lips twitched.

No one said anything as the lawyer sighed, gathered his stuff and showed himself out.

The ones left, were family only. This was the necessary circle.

Namjoon met his hyungs eyes and then each of the members in turn, a silent message that bared so much understanding, passing between each of them, his knees buckled and you yelped, grabbing a hold of whatever material you could between your fingers as Hoseok and Jungkook caught him and Jimin pushed Ji-ho’s discarded chair under him.

'Joon,’ you whispered in concern as he dropped his head in his hand and covered his eyes with his palm.

You stood next to him, petting his hair, his face near your abdomen. No one said anything.

He finally looked up, after minutes of silence. 'I’m sorry.’

'No.’ The person you least expected, came toward his fellow 94-liner. 'No more apologizing.’

Hoseok looked ready for war. It did everyone good to see that the most optimistic one, was finally on the same page as the leader.

'I don’t know if she will reveal it.’ Jin had a Jungkook attached to his back. You almost smiled, the maknae would go to his comfort place too. 'And if she does there’s no guarantee that our days as a band will come to an end. But we always knew it was numbered.’

'Our ages.’ Yoongi stated, his focus back on the skyline.

'Our schedules.’ Taehyung suggested.

That reason would come from him because he would go into acting full-time.

'Our lives.’ Jimin muttered. His leg up on the chair, the other resting below. 'We can finally have workable, breathable, lives.’

'And we’re adults now. It’s not always going to be hopeful and happy.’ Jungkook reminded everyone. The maknae had to know though, he would always be the baby.

'This could be a real outlook for everyone actually.’ Jin nodded his head as the wheels turned in his head. 'We’ve grown up, so why can’t our message?

In fact, our message only gets carried across as it does, because we’re being true to ourselves. Like what’s happening in our hearts and brains and our lives. It would only make sense to be true to ourselves and our journey by expressing it through our music.’

'We can all express this change through our music.’ Hoseok admitted, following his hyungs train of thought.

'There was a fear before of not being able to date or show significant others or get married because of the fan base and the demographic and the desirability,’ Taehyung looked up, and met Namjoon’s eyes, 'but you took that step hyung, and we are still thriving. We have packed schedules for at least the next two years and plenty of comebacks individually and together. We won’t fall apart yet. And we have time to put ourselves across and build our Plan B.’

'We are allowed to step out of the boundaries they had for us.’ Jin’s determination carried itself across. 'This is life and it will not always be great but we will learn from it. And maybe someone could save their marriage or think differently or remember to forgive when it’s necessary.’

'This band,’ Yoongi finally looked at you, 'is what it is, because we make our own path and take risks. And some of them were worth it.’ Seeing the tumultuous emotions on your face, that you felt inside, he looked away before continuing. 'And besides being a band, we are a family. We want wives. Kids. Lives. Soon.’

'No more running.’ Jimin stated, more to himself.

The wording confused you. Running? From what? From… who?

'I find it easy these days.’ Jungkook said from behind Jin’s back.

'What’s that, Kook?’ Jin asked over his shoulder.

'To not care about anyone’s approval and disapproval.’

Jungkook struggled a lot with himself and his fans. He didn’t want to embarrass anyone or feel embarrassed. Being himself was one thing, but for such a long time, he gave what was asked and showed only what was wanted. To say those words and be confident in himself… it was a feat.

You felt Namjoon’s palm at your back and the side of his face placed at your stomach.

Instantly your brain whipped up one word, 'submission.’

Namjoon, Kim Namjoon, the leader, the idol, the rapper, was holding onto you for strength, in front of his band.

You didn’t push him away. You were slightly confused with his actions. But you would never push him away. He needed comfort. His family was saving him from his own mess. He’d need all the strength you had to offer.

So you settled both your hands in his hair instead. His other arm pulled you closer to him straight after.

'Kook’s right.’ Taehyung reaffirmed his only dongsaeng’s words. 'When was the last time we looked for approval?’

'The only people that matter… are in this room.’ Hoseok crouched low, and Namjoon turned away from you to meet the eyes of his fellow 94 liner. Hoseok swallowed hard before saying his piece. ’'Even when this rain stops, when the clouds go away, I stand here, just the same.”

'Hobi –,’

’Iam here.’ Hoseok touched Namjoon’s knee. 'Your best friend. I will be here through it all. We will do this.’ Once Joon nodded, Hoseok stood up and checked on each member. 'Everyone here needs to remember that there are always second chances, no matter what happens, and with whatever does happen, we can get through it together.’

Head nods, affirmations, high-fives were met all round and you bent forward to place a kiss on Namjoons head.

To others, it would seem dramatic. But to the band, to the ones that had experienced Hoseok and Namjoon first hand, it was a shift.

No one, no one ever, fucked with their family. Even backed into a corner, they would adapt and stay strong, and they would fight, should the need arise.

You always knew this day would come. But for it to be so real and for such a reason…

'Not that this is relevant at all,’ Taehyung lifted his shoulders, as if what he was about to say was no big deal, 'but y/n… what’s wrong with Maiya’s lipstick shade?’

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Part 22.5 - Yami Y/n

~~Part 23 || Vindication~~

Part 23.5 - Crisscross

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Fri, 08 Apr 2022 16:57:19

Nerve_24.5 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

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~~Part 24.5 - Divide~~

Part 25 - coming soon

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);

Word Count - 1.8k

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A/N - Usually don’t do author notes but I owe it to anyone waiting for an update. This bonus is short, and basically the starter of what I’m planning to do in Update 25. It’s all I can post until further notice.

When I do rewrite (yeah I scrapped my draft) and finalize Update 25, as soon as its given an all clear by an available beta, whether it’s a Friday or not, it will be posted.

Needless to say, if you understand how ‘still waters’ work in the Nerve Universe, it’s always a lead up to something stormy and devastating - which is why the next update has to be up to standard.

Have a good weekend. Dms and Asks are open if there are any questions.

xoxo Dee

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'So much for starting your new life on a good note,’ you muttered as you swept up the crumbs and broken muffins on the floor.

‘It doesn’t change anything.’ Yuna sniffed and wiped her cheek, which you thought was redundant considering another tear rolled out of her eye straight after. 'It was a long time coming.’

You didn’t go to her, or hug her, or hold her, just yet. You didn’t know if you could. This mess needed to be cleaned up before anything else. The muffins. The physical one. It was easier. Then you needed to decide if this bachelorette was actually happening. The biggest question was whether she internally would hold this against you. Maybe not now. But when she calmed down, and thought about what she just did…

You spoke before you could stop yourself. 'Yuna, I’m sorr –,’

'Oh fuck off, y/n!’ She spluttered. Squeezing her eyes shut, her face screwed up in anguish, she dropped her head in her hands. ‘Just, shut the fuck up.’ She sobbed quietly, not bothering to hold back. ‘This isn’t your fault!’

Dropping the broom, you knelt down in front of her and took her head on your shoulder.

Her arms came around you and she held onto you tightly. ‘You have nothing to apologize for.’ She mumbled as she buried her face into your neck and cried.

Her family, her sister… and her broken heart… you didn’t know what to say to comfort her. Usually you would have the right words. It wasn’t the first time she cried in front of you, nor would it be the last, but you had no idea what to do. How did you comfort Yuna when this whole situation was because of you?

Indirectly, it was your fault, but the damage it caused felt as heavy as if you intended this to happen.

Truthfully, you didn’t think things would turn out this way. You didn’t actually pay attention to Yuna and Helen’s relationship. Yuna did her best to keep you both as separate as possible. Sometimes Helen dropped by, stayed over, or called and texted. You wouldn’t pry or comment or ask, and only heard about Helen in passing or face to face. The tension was always present, the mutual respect always given. There was never a need to dive so deeply into the root cause of it. Maybe you should have thought, maybe if you put more effort…

This whole blowout was unnecessary. When Yuna left for Spain, you would be in your corner of your world and Helen in hers. When Yuna returned, if she returned, she would juggle as she’d always done. You wouldn’t delude yourself into thinking she would return after only one project.

Your best friend was too talented. Offers would line up, and for all you knew, as painful as it was, Kenta and Yuna would be on the streets of Barcelona for the better part of their newlywed bliss and then some. But you wouldn’t let the separation cloud your mind just yet.

You couldn’t blame her for leaving. Just like you couldn’t blame her for trying to balance her twin sister and her best friend. Unlike her, Yuna was your one and only. No sisters. Thank fuck for that bullet considering the fucking circumstances. You had brothers now, but even there, the limitations existed.

Yuna knew about work, and Namjoon and the creeps and the real feelings you felt about others and about yourself. You wouldn’t deny knowing a lot of the same about her. She told you everything. Sometimes words weren’t even necessary.

When she finally calmed down a bit and pulled back, you pushed her haphazard hair out of her face and asked about the matter requiring the most urgency. Looking into her swollen eyes, red nose and blotchy face, you asked, 'Should I cancel?’

You wouldn’t explain. She already knew what you were talking about. You wouldn’t blame her if she did cancel. To hell with all of it if she wasn’t going to enjoy herself.

'Fuck no.’ She swiped at her nose, and you handed her a tissue to do it properly. 'I’m going to get drunk. And be with people that actually care about me.’

‘Shedoes care, Yu,’ you reminded her. You wouldn’t defend Helen, but she only reacted the way she did, because she loved Yuna so much.

‘Shut up,’ she rolls her eyes and groans, her fingers on her temple.

You hover in front of her, waiting for a proper answer.

‘I know she cares,’ she sighs, ‘but she’s taken it too far.’ She met your eyes. ‘Heli let her jealousy get the best of her. Her love for me wasn’t enough for her to ever give you a chance. And to be fair, it might make things a lot easier for me. Instead of hanging on a fence, I chose a side.’ A tight squeeze around your fingers had you looking down. ‘I know I chose the right side.’

You stood up and swallowed hard against the emotion in your chest and reminded her about the subject at hand. 'Are you sure about the party? It’s easy to cancel, babe. Bree would understand. I can give the guys the VIP room for the night since they were just gonna hang here.’

She stared at the floor, not saying anything.

You decided to sway her. 'Maybe a romcom, or a cartoon? We’ll order take out, make some popcorn, ice-cream, and hot chocolate. We can pig out in our jammies, even play some good music and have a dance party.’

You could see a softness creep up on her features. 'As tempting as that is, we already do that a lot.’ She let out a heavy sigh and looked up at you again. 'Let’s get drunk. Let’s have fun with the girls, talk a little shit, and let me do this right. I can’t let her ruin this for me. I love her, y/n. I do. And I love you, too. But tonight is my night.’ She tipped her chin up, her eyes flashing a fire that was inherently Yuna. 'You know me. I just need a little make-up and to slip on one of my sexy dresses, and I’ll be good to go.’

That was true. Yuna was strong. And badass. She may not always slip a mask in place like you, but she knew how. But that wasn’t the point. She was one of your favorite humans. You hated to see her so hurt. And she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. You could always rearrange plans. 'You don’t have to force yours –,’

'Please,’ she clutched your hand and tugged. 'I already feel like shit that my own twin is so fucking blind she can’t see how wonderful you are. I don’t want to sit here and wallow. I know it’s unhealthy to push it down, and I know you always say we should feel these things and let it take its course.’ She implored you with her eyes. 'But I don’t have that time, y/n. And I won’t make the time. I’m getting married in a day. I will make it the happiest day of my life. We will make it the happiest day of my life. Tonight’s my bachelorette with the few friends we can afford to let in and keep. Helen will still have her head up her ass and I’ll still feel less whole and like crap next week when I pack and bitch about it. But this is now. Let me do this. For me. So, please.’

You purse your lips and swing her hand back and forth. 'You have a knack for dialogue.’

She smirked at your teasing. ‘I know my strengths.’

You caved. 'Go take a shower.’ You moved away from her and picked up the broom. 'I’m going to clean this and text the girls.’

'Hey.’

You looked back at her as she stood up. She was already looking less like a watermelon. Tired, maybe a little drained, but Yuna nonetheless.

'This isn’t your fault. I know you. I know you’ll blame yourself. Accept responsibility. Yadda Yadda.’ She rolled her eyes again. ‘But don’t. This is not on you.’

You nodded, not wanting to drag this any further or cause an argument. 'I’m fine. Go, freshen up.’ You breathed a sigh of relief when she tipped her head in return and made her way out of the kitchen.

What was the point of disputing her, really? You knew she didn’t believe you. She knew that you knew that she didn’t believe you.

It was bad. It was Helen and Yuna, from the fucking womb… separated. The whole situation was fucked up.

But she would take time to get ready. She wanted to enjoy her night and you would do anything you could to make that happen. Either way, she wouldn’t win against your insecurities and thoughts. Over the years, she tamped them down, trampled them, did her best to defend you against them, but she never won.

You cleaned the rest of the muffins up and threw them away. Because that was all you could do. Paying little attention to the mess, you moved on autopilot as a vindictive part of your brain made itself known.

Even if you begged the bitch, you doubt she would listen. And yes from this point onward, she was a Grade-A bitch. You gave her the benefit of the doubt before, not anymore.

At the end of the day, she was a good person. Probably. But even you had some pride. Just because you were nice and tolerant, it didn’t make you a pussy. You, the fucking princess, had your fair share to deal with, at home, at work, in your marriage.

You had no fucking time to separate a pair of twins. Yes, they shared a womb but that was about the extent of their closeness. Once they were out, their lives were very much detached from each other.

But that anger wasn’t enough for you to alleviate the blame. Of course you would blame yourself. It felt like your fault. Helen made it clear, it was. There was nothing that could convince you otherwise.

At least, you would be getting drunk.

Yuna was right, as unhealthy as it was, sometimes you just needed a stiff drink and to say fuck it.

And that was one more thing your brave best friend unknowingly reminded you; when a choice was made, as long as it made sense in your head and your heart, it didn’t have to make sense to anyone else.

You would do well to remember that the world was the world. Just the world. Brief. Transient. Fleeting.

They didn’t know your life. They didn’t dictate your feelings. They didn’t share your views and your experiences, therefore… they didn’t matter.

Only you mattered when the matter was about you.

Be it a heart-wrenching choice to cut off a family member or the intrepid resilience to stay in a marriage, you had to stand firm, hold your ground and stick it to it when the world retaliated. Because it would.

… you would rather have a glass of whiskey in your hand when that happened.

[open till the end of Update 25]

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~~Part 24.5 - Divide~~

Part 25 - coming soon

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#bts aus #bts namjoon #bts au fanfic #bts angst #kim namjoon #bts au #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon x you #kim namjoon imagine #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #nerve au

Fri, 22 Apr 2022 16:37:31

Nerve_25.4 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

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Part 25.3 - Cloak & Dagger

~~Part 25.4 - Killswitch~~

Part 25.5 - Cold-Blooded

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); Gun Violence; Gunshots; Smut(Indirect);

Word Count - 10.1k

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Please note the following chapter contains scenes of gun violence, gunshots, gunshot wounds, bleeding, trauma, scenes of a sexual nature and angst. Proceed with caution.

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Earlier that night in Club Orbit …

‘Walk, y/n.’ You flinched at the pain from the gun you felt dig into your side.

You licked your bottom lip, somehow pushing away the blinding panic and willing yourself to remain calm. ‘Where?'

Years of playing it cool would work to your advantage but you wouldn’t pretend to be badass in such a situation. Those were about people, names, power plays, mind games… You were used to being around guns– you had a whole team of people carrying them on a daily basis. You’d even shot one… once. But this…this was different because you were used to firearms being pointed away from you and not at you– especially not this close.It didn’t help that Maiya was clearly unhinged. You could actually die.

Despite the amount of pain you had been through these past few weeks, you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet.

‘Back the way you came.’

But that was back to VIP3, back to where your friends were, where Yuna was. Your eyes flashed at her. 'No.’ You put force behind your words but inside you were desperate.

’Don’t make me repeat myself.’ She pushed the barrel of the gun further into you, you knew you would have bruises on your side if you lived to see the morning.

You had no choice but to start walking. The last thing you needed was for her to shoot you in public and cause a scene. Not to mention the people around you, directly in the line of fire. Leading her to the girls was the last thing you wanted to do, but you would move out of the crowd and buy a few more minutes for your life.

Maybe she wasn’t bloodthirsty and she would just let them go. If not, there would be another way to get the girls out. You would find a way. Somehow.

Your feet took one step at a time and your mind played out scenarios. Thinking too hard and drawing blanks from the pace and pressure.

Before weighing the option, you tried to turn your body, putting your first plan into action, trying to give Yoshi a clear visual. If Yoshi could see, he would be able to alert the team. If you had the team, if you had Kenta, if you had access to any of them, Maiya would be a goner.

She gripped your hair and tilted your head back. 'Don’t even think about it.’ She hissed in your ear. 'Your team is occupied. I made sure of that.’ She pulled your hair harder and poked you again. 'Now, walk!'

Fuck.

'Maiya,’ you protested as tears stung at the back of your eye.

'Walk, y/n.’ She shoved. You had no choice.

Kenta. You wished you could telepathically communicate with your bodyguard, but even if he had been here, there was no guarantee that he would have been able to prevent this. She clearly had everything planned. She just admitted as much.

Namjoon. You whimpered as a vivid vision of him flashed in your head. You didn’t want to die. Yeah, he’d fucked up plenty. But he was the love of your life. There was so much you hadn’t done yet. So much ground to cover. In your life andwith your husband.

You weren’t illogical. Death was the endgame for everyone. It was bound to happen. And if it happened, it happened. But the aftermath would be devastating.

And your family…

You squeezed your eyes shut and choked back a sob. Your family who loved you. A circle of friends always ready to stand with you. A husband that felt too much and understood pain beyond that of the heartbroken… Namjoon wouldn’t bear it. And you could never do that to him.

Losing you would devastate him and his brothers. Losing you this way, because of Maiya, he would blame himself. And Kim Namjoon with his poet’s heart and selfless leader persona, would not share, would not open, would not let anyone see any of his pain… and it would be too heavy of a burden to bear.

———-

'Hey, what took you s–,’ Yuna broke off when she turned her head in your direction.

Maiya kicked the door closed behind her and you were both met with silence.

There were no lights and booming music to hide the fear and panic written all over your face. This up close, even the napkin couldn’t hide the gun

Ria knew immediately. Ria was privy to information. She had hard copies of Maiya’s documents and liaised directly with Ji-ho with your company lawyer, of course, Ria would know. She was more than a little tipsy, but you had a feeling that was not the reason her disdain was immediate when she recognized Maiya.

You panicked as she started walking toward you, her loyalty overcoming her sound judgement.

'Don’t, Ria,’ you managed to croak out a warning.

She stopped and looked at Maiya, who you saw smirk from the corner of your eye.

You shut your eyes tight and opened them again… you really appreciated Ria so much. So much. She deserved Arem, and so much more. No matter what happened next, she had to live to take care of it. You would only trust her with your company.

Look at you, already making plans… so ready to die, y/n.

'The waitress from earlier…,’ Kae-Lee made a face.

'That’s no waitress,’ Yuna stood up and swallowed hard. 'You’re Maiya, aren’t you?'

The question went unanswered.

You noticed Lirra tilting her head to the side. 'You’re familiar…'

Please, Lirrah. Please keep quiet. You need to stay alive. The absolute shitshow that would take place if you so much as bled in this situation… Please.

'You’re the woman in the paper. The one Namjoon was supposedly caught with.’

You huffed a breath.

Lirrah’s eyes widened. 'It was real,’ she breathed. ‘He really…’

Shame overcame you. A raw wound barely scabbed over. And her shock did you in, because despite the process and the progress, a part of you still couldn’t accept it. 'It’s hardly relevant right now.’ You bit out and implored her with your eyes. It was not the time for questions.

'Go to the bar y/n.’

You turn to look at Maiya as if she’d grown a second head.

She shrugged. 'I’m thirsty.’

Her demeanour was disturbingly calm. You expected her to be a bit more haphazard, antsy, maybe make a few mistakes, but she was so… prepared.

'I’ll serve you a drink,’ Yuna offered, her tone bordering utter disdain, 'as long as I get to lace it with arsenic.'

'Always the bold one.’ Maiya muttered, unphased by the threat. 'Ah ah.’ Maiya tutted while she pointed the gun at Kae-Lee, trying her best to inch her way toward you, banking on Yuna as a distraction.

She immediately lifted her hands in surrender, her breaths uneven and you watched as Lirrah subtly placed her body directly in front of Kae-Lee.

A part of you felt pride at the strong facade Kae-Lee tried to keep up, even with the fear you could clearly see in her eyes. Another part of you would always hold Lirrah up in high regard, that movement, spoke volumes.

'Don’t.’ Your voice was so commanding, you figured you would add a 'please’ at the end. You couldn’t help it. You would always be forceful when protecting the people you love.

'What’s that y/n?’ Maiya placed her cheek against yours. 'Are you begging?’ Her mocking tone turned into a whisper. 'Do it again, maybe I’ll let her live.’

You swallowed down your nausea at having her manhandle and threaten you. 'Let them leave,’ you tried to reason with her, 'let them go.’

'Why should I,’ she exclaims loudly, and spreads her arms, 'let’s all go out with a bang.’

'Where’s your team?’ Lirrah asked, darting her eyes back and forth between you and Maiya.

You were almost overwhelmed with the immediate guilt, you promised to keep them all safe.

But it wasn’t your team’s fault either.

'She hid the gun and did exactly what she’s doing right now and if I so much as squeaked wrong, she would shoot.’ You had to defend your team. They were yours. You would always defend them. 'She also made sure to keep them busy. She probably –,’

'Fuck this thing is itchy.’ Maiya took off her wig and tossed it. 'I said I wanted a drink.’ She poked you with the gun.

You winced but did your best not to show anything further as you moved.

You got behind the bar, and got busy pouring her a tequila.

She positioned herself in a way where she could see both you and the girls, gun aimed squarely at your head this time.

'Listen.’ You passed her a tot glass.

She took a sip and spat it out, and you closed your eyes in disgust as some it splashed on you. She ignored you and the harsh breath that Yuna sucked in and picked up the bottle. 'This is definitely notworth the price.’

‘Bitch.’ Yuna surged forward, only for Ria to grab her by her waist.

You heard Ria warn Yuna not to make this worse.

'Maiya.’ You tried to get her attention again.

She twirled the bottle, studying it, squinting to read the tiny writing. 'Imported. Hmm. Have you tried local? You know it’s way better?’

'Listen, Maiya.’

'Actually never mind that.’ She placed the bottle down. ‘Just pour me something else.’

'Maiya!’ You banged the table.

You squeezed your eyes shut at your outburst and opened them to find her giving you a dead stare.

Without looking she lifted her hand and fired a shot.

'No!’ You yelled and reached out at the same time the girls screamed.

Thankfully, the bullet seemed to have lodged itself to your wall, your weird textured wallpaper a force to be reckoned with.

In that split second, you also noticed her hand jump, the momentum of the gun catching her off guard and the sound clearly jarring her as much as it did to the rest of you.

She was inexperienced and playing it cool.

Not to say you had any gun experience either, but you had no intention of shooting her. If it came down to stopping her you would do it with your bare hands. Any knowledge you could file away to add onto your pros was worth it.

'You’re in wayyyy over your head, Mrs. Kim.’ Her voice was deadly quiet as you got your heart rate under control and chanced a glance to the girls.

Ria held onto Yuna and Lirrah almost enveloped Kae-Lee, Ria and Yuna also stepping forward to close her in. They were operating on instinct. They were scared and they didn’t deserve this.

'Let them go.’ You motioned to them. 'They’re all famous, they’re all worth something and you would have a whole lot more to deal with if you hurt them.’

Maiya regarded you calmly.

'I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t know what you want, although I’m very sure it has everything to do with me.’ You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. 'But they,’ you pointed to your friends, 'they are notme.

That’s Lirrah, over there. You know her,’ your tone implying she lived under a rock if she didn’t,’ she’s the nation’s darling, an idol set to collaborate with the band, she can’tget hurt. The entire country would be after you. Kae-Lee is an internationally acclaimed artist, she is just visiting. But even the locals know her and respect her. And hey if you let Ria go you won’t have to deal with any red tape from me,’ you gestured to yourself, 'she’s been wanting the CEO position for a long time. And Yuna, Yuna Mei, has a damn good lawyer for a sister, you would not just go to jail, you would be ruined.’

And she would be. Helen was a lot of things. She was manipulative and hard-headed, envious and conniving and for all intents and purposes she absolutely couldn’t stand your existence, but she loved her sister. It had all stemmed from the depth of which she loved her sister.

The studio’s lawyers would be the least of Maiya’s problems if Helen Mei got involved.

You watched her the whole time, and some sort of flicker passed through her face when you mentioned each name, and the reasons why she needed to let them go. It was hopeful. Partly because Maiya may be doing what she was doing, but deep down, despite everything, she was probably a good person and you needed to capitalize on that.

'I will stay since I’m the one you really want. They have absolutely nothing to do with you,’ you reiterated. 'Let them go.’

Maiya swallowed hard and from the incentive in her eye, you could tell she had made a decision.

'Come,’ she ordered you.

Your forehead creased in confusion.

’Now. Before I change my mind.’

You rushed to her side, not following and very confused, but if it saved the girls, it would be done.

She grabbed you as soon as you were out from behind the bar and placed the gun to your head.

'All of you out.’ She ordered the room. ‘Any funny business and I blow y/n’s brains out right here, right now. You have to the count of ten to walk out those doors.’

They stood frozen. You couldn’t blame them. This could be a trap or a joke.

'One.’

Again no movement.

'Two.’

'Guys!’ You scolded them.

That spurred them into motion. Yuna got to the door first, pulling it open. Kae-Lee turned toward you to say something but she was pushed out by Lirrah, who twisted her face into a grimace when she also looked back at you. ‘Go’ you mouthed. Ria was next and Maiya was already at the count of five.

'Y/n.’ Ria looked at you, distressed and helpless.

You shook your head calmly, willing her to listen to you. ‘Trust me.’ You felt your emotions bubble up. Thankfully, she stepped out the door, and only looked back for Yuna to follow her.

'Go.’ You grit your teeth pushing away the tears that threatened the back of your eyes.

'No way I’m leaving you alone with this bitch.’

'Yuna –,’ Ria tugged on her hand.

At least Ria was being rational. When they got out, they could alert your team, get Kenta involved, get the police here on time so that even if she did blow your brains out, she’d be caught. She could be punished.

You couldn’t fault Yuna, you wouldn’t leave her behind either.

But you weren’t Yuna, you wereyou in this situation, and as yourself, you needed her safe, you needed her out of this room.

You pleaded desperately. 'Fuck, Yuna–leave!!’

She winced at your tone, but only stood her ground further. Almost pushing the door closed on Ria’s face. 'I will not –,'

'I don’t have time for this.’ Maiya pushed the gun in her face.

‘No!’ You moved fast, placing yourself in front of Yuna. You closed her face in your palms. ‘I need you to listen to me,’ you spoke fast, being the mean one between the two of you for the first time. ‘Soulmate ask –’

‘No!’ She threw your hands off. ‘You don’t have the ri –,’

You touched your forehead to hers. ‘Please, please, please, please leave.’

A friendship like yours had very few limitations and a long time ago, the Soulmate Ask became a thing, a wish that had to be granted no matter the odds against it, something sacred, not to be taken lightly, and she could not say no, on account of her last Ask.

It had been a long day. You would think she didn’t have any tears left after the fight with her sister, but here she was, making your heart hurt. You would not relent. Yuna’s existence was threaded with hope, she was finally finding her way. She would never forgive you, in the same way Namjoon would never forget you. But those were small prices to pay as long as they were safe.

'I will not –,'

You pulled the door wide open at her back, expecting her protest, knowing Yuna, knowing her love, knowing her stubbornness, you shoved her toward Ria, who you knew would catch her and shut the door in her face.

You closed your eyes and placed your head on the door, willing yourself to be strong. If you lived through this, for once in your life, you didn’t know how you would fix things with Yuna.

Because you would never forgive her if the roles were reversed.

'Now, y/n.’

You opened your eyes to turn around and take a good look at the woman in front of you.

She leaned into your personal space and a faint sound of the lock clicking into place filled the air. 'It’s just you and me.’

You huffed and actually felt better now that there were no distractions and no impending doom for any of your loved ones.

Truth be told… this was a long time coming. And despite your panic over dying, some part of you needed this face-to-face, you needed clarity, closure, and to move on.

This may have not been your idea of going about it, but if moving on with your life required you to be shot, it was a chance you were willing to take.

———-

'So what’s the endgame here, Maiya?’ You sat opposite each other on the lounge sets. She had her gun aimed at you, and you had a whiskey in your hand.

A ‘last wish’ you called it.

She chuckled humorlessly. 'What makes you think you have the upper hand here, y/n?'

'I don’t.’ You were being honest. 'But I figure if you wanted to only shoot me, you would have done it by now.’ You moved your eyes to the door. 'In fact you would have done it out there. Made a scene. Namjoon’s wife. Blah blah blah.’ You rolled your eyes.

'It would be too easy.’ Her eyes were downcast. 'Too easy to just shoot you and watch you die.’

'Dislike. Apathy. Disdain. Those are normal, but hate?’ You shot your drink in one go and leaned forward. 'I haven’t done a damn thing to make you hate me. I should be the one aiming the fucking gun.’

You were a whole different person. You felt like Kim Y/n. Maybe because you were completely sober, or because of your anger at the actions of the woman in front of you.

'Yeah, you think so.'

Cryptic sentences with no context and no explanation. Did she actually believe herself to be in a movie as a villain? 'Well, get to it, then. If you’re gonna take this long you might as well shoot me now and get it over with.’

'Shut. Up!’ Her eyes flashed and she rushed to you, to hold your chin and push your head back. 'You think you know everything, don’t you, y/n? You’re so smart and capable and make all… the right… decisions.’ Her nails dug into your skin as she emphasized her last words.

You pulled your chin out from her hold, but did nothing else and said nothing more. You were waiting on her explanation. You would not feed her bullshit.

'Hmph.’ She straightened up when she got annoyed at the silence and paced the room, still keeping the gun in your direction.

You couldn’t place her. At face value she didn’t seem to be so deranged. Even now, she seemed to be hesitant. A lunatic would shoot and talk after.

Nevertheless, you just needed to buy time. The girls were smart. Everyone would converge soon enough, you trusted that. And Yuna, for all the resentment aimed toward your recent actions, would signal Kenta and Namjoon in a heartbeat.

'I named my brother.’ She said after a moment. 'When my mom found out she was pregnant. I was… terrified. I was terrified of getting a new brother or sister. But not,’ she paused and walked slowly around the room, jogging her memory, ‘because I was jealous or because they would take away all the attention or something.’ She shook her head. Then she snorted. 'It was about what that baby would have to go through…'

‘I didn’t grow up with warm bedding and food at the ready. I didn’t get new clothes or bought candy because of the odd craving. I wasn’t born into privilege like you, y/n.’ She bobbed her head, making a point. ‘Unlike you, I wore shoes even when the sole was worn off. I had to ration food, eat enough to stay alive. I had to fear for my life when I came home. I didn’t want a new kid dealing with all of that.’ She returned to her position opposite you.

'And I was right. I was so right. He had an asshole father. A broken mother. He was basically shit outta luck.’ She leaned back on the sofa, her neck resting on the edge.

You felt sorry for her. Trauma and toxicity aside, you never had to stress about the basic necessities.

'But the minute, the minute, he was given to me to hold, I knew I would always protect him.’

Her voice changed. 'That I would do anything,’ the lax arm holding the gun suddenly straightened out, 'to protect him.’

'I did whatever I could, y/n. I worked weekends and after school so I could get him what he needed, before they took him away from me.’ A sad smile made itself known. 'We had a small globe and when he sat on the floor, he only seemed to like certain countries and I used to promise myself I would take him places. Because mom may have given birth to him, but he has always been mine.’ Her voice broke.

And some part of your chest clenched in sympathy. She had it hard. And made it work. And she did her best…

You were actually quite surprised it took her this long to snap. Because desperation pushed people to do the unspeakable.

It was no excuse. Definitely not. But you were only human. And you were a very feeling human even if you had mastered not showing it to the world.

'I kept the house as long as I could before social services stepped in.’ She swiped away her tears. 'I missed him every single day and I begged and pleaded, just to see him or to know where he was but they wouldn’t tell me!’ She rushed toward you and got in your personal space. 'Can you imagine, y/n?’ Her voice soft and sinister, her breath on your face. 'Someone you consider your everything, someone your life revolved around… just, gone. Vanished into thin air.’ Her lips twisted to keep at bay an unspoken agony. 'And to act, like they never existed. Just gone. My baby brother, just gone!’

You battled to stay still, a violent part of you wanting to defend itself and just when you considered pushing her off you, she pulled back.

'But that didn’t get me down. Nope. Mihlan would never be alone, not like I was. He would have someone. I would make sure he had someone.

I worked my ass off somehow for a scholarship to study. I found him in college, got my affairs in order, a car, a house, a proper bank account, and then I fixed him right up.’

'It was all going so well. So well.’ She grabbed the back of your hair. 'But no,’ she whispered through gritted teeth, 'you and your precious little family had to come along, and ruin it. Your fucking band. Kim Y/n and her fucking fabulous life. Just when I had my brother,’ she placed the gun under your chin, 'you had him taken away from me, again. And I died, all… over… again.’

You had heard enough. You shoved her off and stood your ground. 'You?! YOU!’ You towered over her form on the floor, having landed on her ass. ‘The one that intercepted my drunk husband in a bar in the middle of the night. The one that kissed and gave my husband, the married leader of a band you admitted to being a fan of, the guy with the ring on his finger and my spit still fresh in his mouth, a fucking blowjob,’ you narrowed your eyes incredulously,’ and Iruinedyourlife?’

She was definitely shocked at your outburst because the gun dropped to her side.

'And it didn’t stop there. Oh no. Fuck no. You took pictures of that night. And distributed them, then blamed someone else. In fact, the light of your life that you talk so well about, you got him to do that piece of dirty work.’ You pointed at her. ‘You fucked a married man. You fucked with my life. You fucked with my marriage. And when I’m doing the right thing, to salvage what I have, you think you have the right to be upset?! Over something youcaused!’

You squinted at Maiya like she was downright stupid. She suddenly wasn’t all that threatening.

'That’s why you have a gun raised at me right now.’ You eyed the gun, feeling nothing but rage. Realistically, the situation was akin to that of you bringing a knife to a gunfight, but in this mood, her gun, any fear you had before, was little to nothing.

'What the fuck is gonna happen, Maiya?’ Cold disappointment coated your words. 'You’re gonna shoot me and then what? Jail, anyway,’ you answered for her. 'You’re already being sued. I mean, do you think for one second the people around me won’t make you suffer every single step of the way if you do. Any of those women that are out there, my friends, my husband…'

'God you piss me off.’ She spat at your feet. 'You’re so fucking entitled. No wonder.’

'No wonder what?'

She ignored your question. 'This is all your fault. All you had to do was leave your husband. I mean, wasn’t it enough that he got off on someone else.’

'Whatthe fuck is wrong with you? Why would you flaunt it?’ What type of blood ran through her veins for her to be so remorseless. The woman you first met in your office was nowhere to be found. ‘And why would you want me to leave him?’

'Because sometimes we have no choice. And you have given me no choice!'

'I don’t have a gun to your head Maiya! What was it that you needed? Money? Leverage? And despite what you think I had no choice in taking your brother away.’ You could offer her that. Whether she believed you or not. 'I tried!’ You had all this disappointment and all these dark feelings and you would not only blame the woman when it came to cheating but she took it a step further. And you could not forgive that. ‘Despite the fact that you gagged on my husband’s dick I tried to find your lawyer, I tried to save your brother, I tried. And you weren’t worth a fucking second of my time.'

She stopped and stared. 'Don’t bullshit me.'

An opening. Some sort of opening. Your brain finally worked itself out of the angry red haze and the wheels turned logically. 'I did.’ You swallowed hard, your foaming at the mouth temporarily seized. ‘I found out about your case. I know your brother’s history and I went to Gambit in person. Even spoke to thatbitch of areceptionist.’

‘Why would you go to Gambit after what I did?’

Your answer was archaic, but something you would never tire of saying. ‘Because I am Kim Y/n.’

She was lost in thought, zoned out, almost defeated as she stared at the ground. Even if she was rethinking her actions, it was too late for her. Her life was bleeding out from the cracks, consuming her. She would not recover.

‘I asked for Neenah,’ you offered further, ‘but I couldn’t find her. I still can’t find her.’

She looked up at you, her eyebrows furrowed. 'Neenah, what…'

'Yes, Neenah. Neenah Jae. I know about your lawyer. I wanted to save your brother. I wanted your brother to have some sort of lifeline, even if I did ruin you. Because that was inevitable. But she’s gone. She’s not at Gambit.’

'But, y/n, Neenah is –,'

You jumped in surprise, as you heard a loud thump from the other side of the door and voices being carried over.

She turned her head toward you and lifted the gun again. 'You’ve been playing me.’

Fuck. 'No, Maiya –,'

You recognised the voices coming from the other side of the door.

Thump.

’Move!’Kenta.A sense of relief overcame you. Kenta would handle things. Kenta was safe.

‘Get everyone out!’ Jin. Ever the nurturer.

‘The fucking door won’t budge.’ Zwahn.

'You’ve been humouring me this whole time!’ She stood up and placed both hands on the gun.

This was what you wanted to happen. You needed to buy time. But the timing itself couldn’t have been worse.

'I haven’t lied to you. I haven’t sprouted any bullshit.’

‘Namjoon, step aside. Hobi, help me out here!’ Yeon.

Thump.

’Don’t let her talk. She acts like she cares. She never cares.’ Maiya paced and repeated the words twice over, before stopping to look at you. 'You’re so full of shit, y/n. For a second I forgot that.'

A deranged look in her eye, she lifted the gun, somehow you knew she would follow through this time.

'Maiya, you don –,'

Breaking wood.

'You took everything from me, Kim Y/n,’ she sniffed and wiped the last bit of wetness on her face, ‘now, I’ll take you away from them.'

Because that was one of the worst things in the world, hurting the people you loved.

You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes as her finger started pulling back on the trigger.

You heard the door break down, you heard yelling, you felt a body weight brush past you, but it was all background knowledge, when the gunshot blasted through the air and the terrifying call of death was so close.

———–

A moment of suspended silence. Only a moment. Before you felt around your body. For holes, for blood, to check if you could still move your arms. Nothing. No pain. Your eyes burst open, and you realized why.

Maiya was detained by Huru, Yeon grabbing the gun from her hand. Kenta rushed toward you, as did Namjoon, and Zwahn. Then you looked down.

‘Yoshi!’ You fell to your knees and instinctively moved to check the arm that oozed red, the stain growing steadily against his white shirt. ‘Oh god, oh god, Yoshi, you idiot!’

He groaned. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Shut up!’ You held his head and watched Kenta rip off his shirt to put pressure on the wound and Kiri took over.

‘Stay conscious, you idiot! We don’t know which artery she nicked.’ Kiri scolded him as she tore his shirt to pieces and used the cloth to stem the blood flow.

‘Why would you do that!’ You yelled at him.

‘Don’t be mad, y/n.’ He complained as Kiri and Kenta manhandled him.

‘Then stay alive.’ Please. Please stay alive.

‘Hell of a fuck up for shooting if you lose the arm, Yosh.’

Yoshi coughed and flipped Xan the finger on his good hand.

‘It’ll hold,’ Kiri pointed to the tight cloth that she reamed around Yoshi’s shoulder and around his waist. ‘But not for long. We have to get him outta here.’

‘An ambulance is five minutes out.’ Bree announced from her position at the doorway, ‘and clubs almost cleared out for the night.’ She left as soon as she was done.

‘Are you okay?’

Huh. It took you a few seconds to understand the question, before you focused on Kenta. Kenta asked the question. Then you found your husband. And something inside you stabilized, just with his presence in the same room as yours. You could breathe.

‘Sweetheart are you hurt?’ Jin asked again.

Kiri immediately looked over your form.

‘N-no.’ You shook your head. You wanted to crawl into Namjoon’s arms and never come out. You didn’t have that privilege right now. ‘I mean, yes, yes I’m fine. Yoshi is the one who was shot.’

‘He took a bullet meant for you.’ Hoseok stated, his hand brushing your hair lightly. He wanted to make sure you were real, that you were actually okay.

‘You could have died.’ Kenta’s clipped tone dragged you out of the weird buffer mode you seemed to have fallen into.

‘There was nothing you could have done, even if you were here.’ You grabbed his arm. ’She had it all planned out.’

‘I’m right,’ Yoshi coughed and groaned, ’here.’

You caressed his hair. ‘You did more than what was expected of you.’

‘Ambulance is two roads away.’ Yeon rushed to Yoshi’s body. ‘Up.’ As a unit, Yeon, Zwahn and Xan, lifted him up and Kiri held his arm in place.

‘Go with him.’ You told Kenta. You knew him too well. He would want to go but also stay for you.

He met your gaze. A lifetime of promises behind those eyes. You motioned your head to the door. He didn’t need telling twice.

When Yoshi was out of the room, your mind reset itself.

‘Why?’ You heard Namjoon ask.

Detained by Huru, Maiya offered him no explanation.

‘Do you have no self-preservation?’ Yoongi’s hands were in his pocket. He looked calm. So calm. But his voice was deadly quiet. ‘I warned you, Ms. Song. I told you not to mess with my family.’

‘Well,she messed with mine.’

‘And yet you stillhave nothing to stand on.’

Maiya raised her chin in defiance.

‘You are done.’ Yoongi whispered to her.

Unperturbed, Maiya turned her attention to your husband. ‘Nothing to say, Namjoon? For old time’s sake?’ She said in a disgustingly sweet tone.

Your hackles raised, and you let go of Kenta and walked to stand next to your husband. He welcomed you with open arms.

She had taken enough pieces of him, enough from your lives. You knew where you stood now. You placed your hand over his heart and he closed his own over it. It would always be with your husband.

Whatever her plan, whatever her motivation, whoever her accomplices on the floor, you didn’t care anymore. Her brother was heading for jail. She would be soon enough. You could all move on with your lives.

———-

Namjoon was still reeling. He honestly didn’t know how he was holding it together.

This was all because of him. Maiya happened because of him. Today he could have lost y/n, she could be dead, all because of his mistake.

He squeezed her waist, taking deep breaths, reminding himself that y/n was breathing, she wasn’t injured, she was in his arms, she was right here.

And he would not look at Maiya. As far as he was concerned, the crazy bitch didn’t deserve the time of day… or night for that matter. And if he did look at her, he knew, he knew, he wouldn’t be able to control his emotions.

He didn’t know what he would do. Raise his hand on a woman for the first time, fucking strangle her, he didn’t know. But he didn’t want to find out either.

So he placed his chin on y/n’s head and breathed in her shampoo scent. She was okay. Kim Namjoon would owe Yoshi Ikeda his life, for keeping his heart, the centre of his world, safe from harm.

‘We’re done here,’ y/n told Huru. She turned away from Maiya and turned into his chest. He was more than happy to oblige her. Keep her there. Hold her. Protect her always.

‘I’m not.’ Maiya’s response, kicked his pulse into gear.

‘Cut your losses.’ Hoseok spat the words at her.

‘I have nothing left to lose.’

He wondered what more she could do, with her hands literally tied behind her back.

He almost wished he didn’t ask when he heard a small click.

‘What,wait where arrrree we…’

‘Just relax.’

His eyes went wide. That was hisvoice.What the fuck…

‘Car. Hmmmm, this is not… my car.’

‘Oh. You drive now?’

He chuckled. ‘I don’t even own a car.’

Namjoon watched in horror as y/n stepped away from him. His hands came up to hold her to his body, but he clenched the air when she took another step away.

His brothers mirrored the expression on his face, eyes wide, mouths hung open.

‘You’re driving me home the – mmh,’

She kissed him then and he… he didn’t push her away.

‘Sure.’ More kissing noises. ‘After.’

‘After wh - - mhm,’

Y/n looked at him then. The betrayal in her eyes cut deep.

‘You’re exactly like what I expected you to be.’

Groaning, the heavy breathing, the kissing noises, the sound of a belt buckle, hisbelt buckle.

He wanted to stop this torture, he knew he should grab whatever device she had in her hand and destroy it or even throw it in the deepest crevice he could find. But he was frozen where he stood.

‘Wait, I don’t know if we should –,’

‘Shh, it’s just once.’

‘I have a –,’

‘Hard on. You have a hard on.’ Her voice was sultry. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.’

Y/n’s twisted expression had him sick to his stomach, a tear dropped from her face as her eyes frantically moved from side to side, making him wish he could be anywhere but here right now.

He remembered Maiya’s whispers, her breaths against him, her insistent hands. He closed his eyes as he relived the nightmare with clarity.

‘Wait, ah!

That was when she pulled his cock out of his pants. He couldn’t say he tried to stop her, he may have protested, but he was a grown ass man who could have easily overpowered her if he truly needed to. And by the looks of things, he didn’t do enough. He would never forgive himself for it.

‘Mhmm, ah, ah, ah!’

The lewd sounds of her mouth working him and his moans made enough impact for him to shudder as the recording went on for a minute straight.

It was a blur, a haze, something he truly did not want to remember. And y/n did them both a favor by not asking for specifics. Now, she would never need to.

‘Ah, fuck!

He blinked hard, his chest caught, he almost felt like his spine was twisting out of his body. He just heard himself cum from a blowjob, and his whole band, his wife, had heard it all.

Y/n’s lips curled and she closed her eyes when she heard the end. She lifted her head up to face the ceiling, her eyes closed, clenching her teeth. He felt her withdraw. He felt her put distance between them and he hated it.

When she opened her eyes again, she wasn’t herself.

Marching right up to Maiya, Namjoon flinched as he heard more than saw y/n’s hand rebound off Maiya’s cheek – the echo of the resounding slap filling the air.

‘Y/n’, Huru moved to maintain distance between Y/n and Maiya.

‘You’re fucking smiling!’ Y/n screeched.

‘Y/n… ,’ Kenta cautioned, placing his hands on her upper arms and holding her off.

When had he returned? And who was with Yoshi?’

‘You have the audacity to smile!’ Y/n fought Kenta, actually pushed him off her twice trying to get to Maiya.

Kenta could easily keep her at bay, but with y/n he would never use more force than intended.

Namjoon’s blessing and curse was that he could see straight through y/n and right now, her yelling was a shield for blinding pain, pain she would do her best to push away before she let herself feel it.

‘What type of woman are you? He’s my husband, he wears my ring, and has vows that were made to me, and you not only played a part in breaking them… you actually made and played a recording of it all!You fucking sick –,’

‘Y/n, stop it!’ Jin scolded her. ‘She’s going to get what she deserves. She’s not worth it.’

Ignoring Jin for the first time in her life, y/n struggled further, enough to get Kenta to close his arms around her.

‘What did you do, Maiya?’ Y/n hissed. ‘Tell me! What did you do? Everyone here knows Namjoon cheated including me… I’m still here, I’m still standing.’

Maiya raised her chin in defiance. ‘I did what I needed to do.’

‘What’s that? Make yourself look cheap. Mission fucking successful. Let us know how we can contact you for your services.’

Maiya’s cold smirk sent a shiver down Namjoon’s spine. ‘Don’t you see, y/n, look at yourself, out of sorts, out of control, all I ever wanted was to break you.’ She tilted her head in triumph. ‘Mission. Fucking. Successful.’ She threw your words back at you.

Y/n’s hands dropped to her side and Kenta backed off to get a hold of Maiya again.

A mistake he shouldn’t have made. Because y/n surged forward, and Namjoon moved fast, wanting to keep her in check, wanting to hold her at bay, because that was his right.

‘Y/n-ah,’

But before he could Huru’s hands closed around her forearms. And Namjoon fucking lost it.

‘Nobody can break me! Least of all you!’

‘Y/n.’

‘How dare she – ,’

‘Y/n look at me!’

Namjoon wasn’t aware that he’d even moved. All he knew was that Huru’s hands were on y/n and y/n would have handled that, but when she looked at Huru, when she backed off…

Y/nnever backed off, not unless Namjoon was in front of her. Namjoon was her stability and her calm, Namjoon held her off by her waist or her forearms or manhandled her to behave, Namjoon stared into her eyes to get her to focus on him and kilter her world again, it was Namjoon’s right, it wasn’t Huru’s, it was his.

‘Get your hands off my wife!’ His fist connected with Huru’s jaw, the momentum behind the punch throwing the man off balance and away from y/n.

He was vaguely aware of y/n going silent next to him, her eyes wide in shock.

‘Namjoon-ah!’ He heard Jin yell.

But he couldn’t take note of anything else before Huru replied in kind with a punch of his own. Fuck. He felt his lip split open.

‘What the fuck!’

‘This is hardly the time.’ Yoongi’s voice was faint, but no less harsh.

Namjoon didn’t back down. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t just a fucking idol. He was a man that had been pushed too far.

He gripped Huru’s collar, ‘All you’ve done is cross the line.’

‘And all you’re capable of is making things worse.’ Huru used a defence technique to manoeuvre himself out of Namjoon’s hold and knee him in the gut.

Namjoon felt the air get knocked out of him, but he got Huru on the leg and grappled the man down to the floor.

‘Well this is fun,’ Maiya quipped.

‘Stop it!’ He heard y/n scream.

Huru used his strength to his advantage and switched their positions. He watched as Huru’s fist came down on his nose, almost in slow motion.

‘Get off!’ Kenta pulled Huru off just in time and Jin grabbed Namjoon by his shoulders and Hoseok helped him up. They held him off.

He was too riled up, too eager, pining for a fight and a sucker for punishment, and he almost went after Huru again.

And then y/n was in front of him, her back facing him, her arms spread out. ‘Don’t.’

‘Y/n,’ Namjoon growled, he wanted her out of the way.

She raised her hand. ‘Just. Don’t.’ Her tone dripped ice and hehatedbeing on the receiving end of this side of her..

Namjoon and Huru stared each other down, the obstacle in the middle too important and too much of a ticking time bomb.

Huru wiped the blood away from his eye with his sleeve.

Sticking his tongue out to kiss over his bottom lip, Namjoon tasted the salty metal of the open cut there.

‘You’d still stand by him after what you just heard,’ Huru asked incredulously.

She didn’t answer. Just looked toward Namjoon over her shoulder.

Namjoon didn’t know what he expected to hear. On one hand, the reinforcement that she would never leave him, would do him a whole lot of good.

But also, that recording, was a kill switch for any progress they had made and the rest of his marriage.

He had been through a lot in his life. Plenty of hate, words that should never be directed to anyone human, envy, he had been a joke, he had been called ugly, his own parents hadn’t believed in his dreams, but the man he was today could handle every single one of those, none of them had made him feel as helpless as he did in that moment. He wanted to cry, as he breathed hard, wishing he could read yns mind, willing her to give him some sort of sign

He didn’t regret punching Huru. Maybe the fact that it wasn’t head on and the fucker didn’t see it coming was something of a drag, but the pain he felt pretty was satisfying as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.

His throat grew thick as she looked back at the private investigator. He heard her swallow hard. ‘Thank you for coming to help me. Now, I would appreciate it if you got a handle on Maiya.’

Whatever Huru saw on her face, was inherently Kim y/n, because he paused, by the movement of his eye, Namjoon could tell he searched her face for a second, before his shoulders relaxed from the defensive posture. Namjoon watched Huru give a subtle nod. ‘You’re welcome.’

Namjoon bit the inside of his cheek.

‘Come on,’ Kenta gripped Maiya’s arm and motioned to Huru to take the other, ‘let’s get you a nice, cosy cell to sleep in.’

Of course the petite women wouldn’t overpower even one of them, but Kenta was doing his keeping the peace bit.

‘I have her.’ Huru took Maiya’s arm.

‘What?’

‘I have her. I’ll book her. You need to be here.’ Huru made a subtle movement toward the door. Yuna.

They all watched as Huru took Maiya away. Namjoon didn’t know what to do next.

He usually always had a game plan, he knew the next logical step, but this was…entirely foreign to him.

All he could do was stand there and feel the anger and the anxiety and the humiliation wash over him.

Could he approach y/n, or talk to her, could he take her into his arms, did he talk to his brothers, maybe see what page they were on, did he make sure Maiya went to jail, did he talk to Kenta about specifics, did he visit Yoshi or find out more about what happened, compensate Bree for her club, what did he do, what should he do besides wishing for the miracle that would turn back time and make sure that night never happened.

Most importantly, what did he do with himself? He felt like a shell of a man, having pissing contests, throwing punches, he was reacting like a child without a shred of self-control.

But he also didn’t want to look inward. He would have to admit to the shame, the embarrassment, the flat out humiliation of having evidence of him cheating on his wife thrown at his face.

But he couldn’t look outward either. He couldn’t look at his hyungs, or yn for that matter, truthfully he didn’t know what to feel. He was uncharacteristically numb.

He almost tripped over his own feet when y/n started walking, following the path out the door. To know where he stood with her, he’d follow her like a puppy. Solid plan. Fucking idiot.

She ran up to the girls. He heard her ask about Kae-Lee, who had apparently accompanied Yoshi to the hospital. Lirrah stood next to Jimin and Taehyung, who was, well, Namjoon expected her to be shaken, but she seemed to be watching y/n closely, as if studying her reaction and her movements.

She accepted a hug gracefully before Ria engulfed Y/n in a stronghold. Namjoon was surprised to see Ria show her emotional response, but then again almost everyone had alcohol in their system. He deserved the furious gaze Ria shot him thereafter. He deserved the anger and the offense on y/ns behalf and more. They hadn’t heard the half of it.

He’d be fucked when they found out. Sure, it’s not like it was new. But a recording… He cringed internally.

Y/n saved the best for last, and moved to pull Yuna in for a hug. Yuna looked at the floor. Her belongings in one hand, her free hand on her hip. She was visibly shaken. Namjoon had a feeling Kenta was never going to let this go.

Namjoon’s stomach dropped at the sight of y/n shrinking back at the rejection as Yuna stepped out of reach.

Y/n stretched her hand, but stayed in her spot, ‘Yuna?’

Yuna shut her eyes tight, ‘I can’t y/n.’

His wife didn’t speak, didn’t prompt, just waited, until Yuna opened her eyes and connected with hers.

‘I can’t.’ She shook her head to reinforce the words. ‘It’s too much.’

‘Yuna,’ y/n latched onto her hand this time, a desperate move. ‘You had to be safe. I had no choice.’

‘No y/n, you had a choice, and you made it without me.’ Yuna pulled away.

‘I needed you to live,’ y/n’s voice was forlorn as her face screwed up.

‘And what does that say about me? When we have been together all our lives. When our hearts are probably synced up at this point.’

Y/n couldn’t answer her. He could see it. She did something she shouldn’t have.

Yuna stepped forward and whispered her next words. ‘What would you do, y/n?’

Y/n shook her head, furiously, refusing to meet Yuna’s eyes.

Yuna nodded, disappointment practically bleeding out of her. ‘Exactly.’

‘Yuna, please understand,’ y/n pleaded quietly, sounding small.

His chest twisted painfully. He wanted to go to her. He couldn’t.

‘Listen, it’s a lot. It’s been a day. I’m glad you’re safe.’

Y/n looked up and reached out again. ‘Let’s ta –,’

Just,’ Yuna raised her hands, took a deep breath, tears welling up in her eyes, ‘just leave me alone. Okay.’

Namjoon watched Yuna walk away, toward the staircases that led to Bree’s office and y/n’s hands fell to her side.

He had no idea what that was about, but he was pretty sure y/n’s heart broke all over again.

He heard the sub vocal breath of air, a second before y/n turned her attention to him.

Her footsteps were light and deliberate, extreme control lacing every single action – she was trying to get a hold of herself. Y/n was a walking train wreck. They both were. But the only reason he wasn’t on his knees right now, pleading, apologizing, doing something, anything to fix this, was because of y/n. She was on the verge of exploding. She wouldn’t want the world seeing that. He would put her first. Always.

Namjoon didn’t look up when she stopped in front of him, he didn’t have it in him to meet her eyes. With what right, with what promise. What did he have left, even his dignity took a knock.

He had been stripped bare and the embarrassment of it was the least of his problems.

She raised her hand, stopped a few inches away from his jawline, and dropped it.

He did look up then.

His breath caught in his throat at what he found in his wife’s eyes.

Y/n was capable of extreme emotion. Her family and her friends would know that. Namjoon would know that. Y/n had been angry. Y/n had been sad. Y/n had been disappointed and downright cruel when the situation demanded it. But y/n was not showing any of those warranted signs.

Her lip didn’t quiver, her mouth wasn’t set in a harsh line, her nostrils didn’t flare, her face wasn’t set in harsh lines, y/n was almost expressionless, almost untouched, but Namjoon could see to her heart. It was a gift, and a curse, to see Kim Y/n’s soulful eyes… well and truly lost.

———-

It was fuzzy. But so stark, so clear at the same time.

This night had…actually happened. There were so many thoughts in your head, it actually felt like none at all.

Helen. Maiya. The recording. Yuna’s reaction was the tipping point. It was like a hand reached into your chest and squeezed, the grip, pitiless and unrelenting.

You knew you were not handling it well. Whatever had happened. You weren’t even processing.

Your husband stood in front of you and for the first time, in a long time, you didn’t know what to do with him.

The echo of voices, of people, of anything really, sounded so far away. They were all here though. Your guys, your husband, your friends…

Instead of forcing it, you grappled for control, focused inward, on the thrum of your pulse. Alive. You were alive. But at what cost.

None of it made sense. Not Maiya, not her reaction, not her plan or her gun or her reasoning. Break you? Break what? Not you. Not Kim Y/n. Never Kim Y/n. But y/n, her light, seemed to be extinguished.

You closed your eyes, and stepped away from Namjoon, something inside you unable to reach for him.

You clenched your fist and grit your teeth.

'Grit your teeth y/n.'

The voice of a man that proved to be a bigger lesson than your own father. You followed it. You recalled his words. You used them to cope.

'He doesn’t pay attention to me, Kwang.’

The older male stood in the mini kitchen in his office. 'And walking into work late in the afternoon, when a meeting was scheduled, more than a little hungover, is going to get you the school girl attention you’re desperately seeking for.’

He was disappointed. And that hurt. More than it should have.

'You’re being rude. You’re supposed to be on my side.’

He was supposed to understand. You thought he did.

'I could be a lot worse if I didn’t care about you.’

Your immaturity made itself known. 'You’re doing a helluva job 'caring’ about me right now.’

He clicked his tongue and walked toward you. 'Now lemme see,’ he leaned into your face and sniffed, and met your eye level, 'you smell like you’re bleeding whiskey y/n.’ He looked toward your body and made a face. 'And are these yesterday’s clothes?'

A part of you filled with shame. You pushed it away and lifted your chin. 'Yes.’

He rested his hands on his knees. 'You’ll leave as soon as possible, change and come back.’

It was an order. One the petulant child in you wanted to ignore. 'Dad wouldn’t care if it’s the same clothes. He wouldn’t even notice.’

'He would, if you reek of day-old sweat and alcohol.’ He straightened up and walked back to the cabinets. 'You’ll be back in time for the meeting.’

'He needs to see me now.’ You said in a soft voice.

You weren’t lying. He’d left a message at reception saying to meet him as soon as you got in. Kwang intercepted you before you took another step down the long hallway of the directors floor.

'So you stand there, focus on what he’s saying and act normal then leave to freshen up. This isn’t rocket science.’

That was going to be hard. You hadn’t had a lot of sleep. And you were slightly worse for wear in the hangover department. The sunshine was too bright, and you may know the Voyage project like the back of your hand but it was your father’s baby, not yours. You could care less about the snot nosed rich fucker that wanted to tear down a reasonable residential area and make it a retail area. It was about people’s lives and livelihood.

'The sun is too bright. I don’t want to see him.’

He sighed. 'You know you need to go home. You know you have to go to that meeting. You know you have to see your father. That’s the endgame, y/n.’ He turned around. 'You’re tired, bratty, and giving me shit when you know I’m right. So grit your teeth. Act like you have your life together and play the perfect daughter.’

You looked at your hands in your lap, your frustration tempting you to have a full blown meltdown. One thing Kwang never did was hold back on punches. And he was not wrong.

'Ninety-five percent of your life, you’ll get through by gritting your teeth.’ You heard him walk toward you again. 'Learn the skill.’ His voice left no room for error. 'And drink this.’

He pushed a mug toward you.

'Coffee,’ you whispered.

'Sniff it.’

You did. You always sniffed things. Food, beverages, coffee, it was the first taste before actual taste. You recognized the blend immediately. 'Smells like…Hawaii… Kona.’ You were ashamed. 'One of my favorites. You remembered.’

He sat down on the couch next to you. More relaxed, and sporting the whole 'What am I gonna do with you’ energy. 'What are friends for?'

The term made your lips twitch. 'We’re friends?'

'Of course.’ He smiled.

At the time he was a savior. A listener. A supporter. Someone you would easily dial in a desperate situation at any time. Someone whose office you would walk into and easily shut the door so you could bitch about someone or something and he would look away from his computer and be there for you.

You cared for him. In a way that a little sister looked up to a best friend’s brother, without the romance trope. In a way where you could easily lean for advice and money and experience on a family friend much older than you. In a way where he saw all of you, all the bad and the good, all the dirt and the grime and the tears, and the whole caterpillar phase before helping to build a cocoon for a butterfly. But never, no matter the hugs, no matter the odd times and the trust, you never looked at him as someone you would fuck.

And yet…

'Grit your teeth y/n.’ You looked up from sipping your coffee, as his tone got serious again. ‘Don’t ever let them see you stumble. Because they do not like you and so they will always watch you. Give them a life worth watching.’’

He let you leave the office with one last piece of advice, one that helped you handle your father, your life, the incident with him and lead your actions to cause catastrophic change.

His grin, his words, his intentions, you learned later on meant, more, way more. By then it was too late to go back in time or steal any pieces of yourself back.

You opened your eyes.

Kwang had been the one to come up with your nickname. At the time he was carrying a torch that let you out of the darkness, and people like him, even with their misdeeds, etched their names in a person’s life.

He kept you strong until he didn’t. He was the beginning of Kim Y/n. It was a secret you would take to your grave.

To be fair, there was no way you could change the name that was whispered in your hallways and written in articles, and so you used it to your advantage. Like now. You would have to remain stable. You would have to cope. Or you would be forced to feel.

'Be ice… princess.'

And so you were. You are. You had to be.

Sat, 04 Jun 2022 20:36:25

Nerve_25.3 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Part 25.4 - Killswitch

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Part 25.2 - Havoc

~~Part 25.3 - Cloak & Dagger~~

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);

Word Count - 11k

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Back at Kenna mansion…

‘Annddd, go!’ Jimin tapped the virtual stopwatch on his phone.

They were all in the middle of Kenta and Yuna’s home gym. Arched feet, set elbows, relaxed shoulders, backs, ramrod straight, no indication of strain on either man – yet.Jungkook watched as Kenta and his Jin hyung battled it out to do the longest plank.

He would join in, just to show them up, and the adrenaline from his speed run on the treadmill would help, but this wasn’t about competing, it was about having fun.

A gym workout would not actually be classified as the ideal bachelor party experience, but Jungkook could not deny that he was having the time of his life.

The whole ‘last night of freedom’ thing was absolute bullshit. And maybe he would be called a pussy for not paying for strippers, being black out drunk, or having a crazy checklist of dares to strike off…but when Jungkook fell in love, he would just be happy to get hitched and build his life around a central point–a central person.

If it was up to him, he’d have played it safe–with a night in. Order some good food to share with his hyungs and even invite some close friends. If he really wanted to, he had the option to flex with a private rooftop party, great music on rotation, and top-shelf alcohol flowing the whole night as they partied. But he preferred the first option.

No doubt he’d been raised by the right people.

Jungkook moved his gaze toward his leader hyung, who currently did deadlifts in the corner. Taehyung and Yoongi hyung did their own controlled set of weight exercises opposite the mats. Hoseok lay flat on the treadmill, scrolling through his Instagram feed and joined half-heartedly in conversation. It was chilled.

Namjoon hyung had his bachelor party in his Rkive, streaming their old tracks in the studio, bottles of soju, and their band spread about the room. The band had exchanged memories well into dawn, then watched the sunrise from the rooftop of the studio. It was admittedly one of their top ten nights.

Kenta, who was currently breaking a sweat on the blue mat on the floor, was cut from the same cloth. He had little to no interest in any social expectation for him to get drunk and get a lap dance. Jungkook internally smirked, unless it was from Yuna.

Jungkook watched the vein in his Jin hyung’s forehead pop, the same time Kenta inhaled at short exhalation. A glance at the timer told him they were bordering 3.50. On a verygood day Jungook did five minutes, so they were obviously giving it their all.

Bated breaths, shaky arms, tight shoulders, one of them was about to give. Jimin’s eyes darted from side-to-side, wanting to catch the first sign of weakness, the first fall.

Seokjin let out a pained groan and fell at the same time Kenta’s body made a thump on the mat.

‘That was actually pretty good.’ Jungkook didn’t bother to keep the admiration out of his voice.

Anyone that had ever attempted a plank, would appreciate how much of a lifetime ten seconds were.

Jimin sat on his haunches, showing the two contenders the screen as they lay flat on the floor, trying to get their breath back. ‘4.14.’

Jin and Kenta met each other’s gaze and simultaneously barked. ‘Again.’

‘Absolutely not. I’m next.’

Jungkook huffed a laugh when Namjoon made his presence known.

Namjoon unwrapped his hands from his boxing wrap as he stepped toward the group.

‘Seriously though, Ken,’ Taehyung came up from behind Jungkook and handed the bodyguard his towel, Jimin doing the same for Jin, ‘only you would add a team work out session on a bachelor party agenda.’

Kenta wiped the sweat off his neck. ‘This is how I have fun.’ Kenta stood up and reached for Jin. ‘We are definitely doing this again.’

Jin straightened up and gripped Kenta’s hand in a challenging grip, ‘Anytime.’ A smirk playing on his lips.

‘What’s a good wedding gift?’ Yoongi asked out of nowhere. His eyes were closed, but there was a barely-there pout, indicating concentration..

Jin looked scandalized as he popped the lid on his water bottle. ‘You haven’t bought them a wedding gift yet?’

Yoongi shrugged. ‘I know Ken, I know Yuna, what do I get forboth of them?’

‘A llama,’ Taehyung said, dropping to the floor, next to Hoseok. His arms stretched out behind him on either side, tight from the repeated reps.

Jungkook loved that tightness in his own arms, especially when he stuck by his weight range and just decreased reps when it was no longer manageable. The exhaustion after a hot shower and the ache the next day was one of the best feelings in the world.

The adrenaline, high-energy levels, and a bit of mental clarity, those were all great, addictive in fact. Call him crazy, but it went much deeper than that.

Aches and pains were… well, an actual pain, but it was also a reminder, that he was doing something good for his body, that he was fighting, that he was alive and could do something about it.

Jimin snorted at his soulmate’s answer.

‘What am I going to do with a llama?’ Kenta did his own stretch.

It took Jungkook a second to realize the older male was genuinely curious with Taehyung’s choice, five more to ascertain that thiswas why it was so easy to include the bodyguard in their lives. He didn’t judge. He cared. He took time to peel back layers and mitigate surface level generalizations, and his sole purpose was to keep his people safe. Jungkook didn’t want to admit it, or make it real, but he was going to miss both Kenta and Yuna.

They were always available, around, texting, meeting up with them… one minute they’re always there, then they’re not. Jungkook wasn’t big on change, but it was life and there were bigger problems for them to deal with.

‘Llamas are cute.’ Taehyung mimicked Kenta’s stretch. Jungkook wondered if it was a conscious action. ‘Yuna likes llamas.’

‘I know she likes llamas.’ Kenta deadpanned. ‘But what am I going to do with a llama in Barcelona? She’s gonna be on set and I’m going to be her security detail on set, ergo no time for Charlie.’

‘Charlie?’ Hoseok lifted his head.

‘Delta,’ Taehyung teased.

‘Echo,’ Jimin followed his soulmate’s lead.

‘What? You’re the Alpha and Yuna’s Bravo?’

‘Of course not, Yoongi hyung.’ Namjoon scoffed. ‘Yuna is the Alpha.’

‘If I didn’t know you,’ Kenta ignored the soulmates and narrowed his eyes at his next opponent, ‘I’d consider that a sneer.’

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender. ‘I am in no position to sneer.’

‘Not with a wife like yours.’ Jin murmured, wrapping his own hands.

Namjoon pointed at Jin. ‘That and the fact that Yuna is fucking bull-headed.’

‘Watch it,’ Kenta warned, holding back the emotion in his voice. ‘There’s a reason my wife’s best friend is yourwife.’

‘She’s not your wife, yet,’ Hoseok reminded.

'Ehh,’ Kenta made a face, 'Semantics.’

Jungkook got caught up for a second, still unused to Kenta being so human and comfortable with them even after all these years.

‘Is that next? A pissing contest?’ Taehyung did a downward dog pose as he asked the question.

‘Just hyping each other up.’ Namjoon stood toe-to-toe with Kenta, their bond clear and complicated.

Like siblings, they would defend, protect and stand next to each other in solidarity, but Jungkook would bet his pinky toe, if his hyung had a chance and Kenta had good reason, they would both pack as much momentum as they could behind a punch.

Hoseok relaxed his neck muscles. ‘Both your wives would boast bigger dicks if they knew you were going at each other.’

‘Can we get back to Yuna liking llamas,’ Jin couldn’t hide his bewilderment.

Jungkook was easily confused. Yuna was a girly-girl, in all aspects. If anything, he would expect Yuna to flaunt a teacup puppy, or a chihuahua, like Burdine Maxwell and Sharpay Evans. Weird animal choices were more his Noona’s department. Weird cartoons too.

‘She likes that they spit.’ Taehyung did a handstand against the wall. ‘She wants to train one to do it on command.’

‘Makes sense.’ Jin shifted his shoulders and approached the bag. Jungkook decided to join him.

‘It makes as much sense as y/n wanting a cockatoo so she could teach it swear words.’ Hoseok scoffed.

‘She’s already got Ria on that.’ Namjoon shook his head.

Jungkook hid his smile. His hyung may complain about Noona’s quirks and oddities, but Namjoon would always indulge her. They all would.

‘Okay!’ Jimin clapped his hands together. ‘We know how this is going. For every TTB Kenta does, Namjoon hyung and his supporters have to have a shot of alcohol – the winner’s choice … and vice versa.’ Jimin pulled out a pen and paper out of thin air like a true referee. He drew two columns and looked at the room. ‘Pick a side’.

‘Namjoon hyung.’

Kenta aimed a desultory finger in Taehyung’s direction and the younger blew a kiss back – smile wide and unrepentant.

‘Kenta.’ Jin answered, not looking up from the bag.

Jungkook held the bag as steady as he could as Jin hyung carried out his combination and stood in solidarity with his leader hyung when Jimin looked his way.

Hoseok, who hadn’t moved from his position on the floor, gave Namjoon a two-finger salute. ‘I’ll get drunk with you when you lose.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘Can I sit this out?’ Yoongi splayed out on one of the benches. ‘Drink for both sides? Play devil’s advocate.’

‘No, hyung.’ Jimin complained. ‘Be a sport, pick a side.’

‘Got the look down for the devil’s advocate thing, though.’ Hoseok muttered.

Yoongi lifted his head to assess each male and threw an unopened box of boxing wraps at Hosoek who caught it with one hand. ‘Namjoon,’ he acknowledged after a few seconds.

Jungkook would reallylike to know what swayed his hyung. Yoongi hyung may be the least unbothered, but he spoke without words, showed without action, and loved… beyond average capability.

‘What about you Jiminie?’ Hoseok twisted his head to look at him.

Jimin scribbled before answering. ‘Kenta.’

Namjoon’s mouth fell open. ‘Traitor! You didn’t even hesitate.’’

‘Sorry, hyung.’ Jimin did a what-are-you-gonna-do gesture. ‘Kenta can do fifty unbroken reps.’

Damn.Even Jungkook had to admit that the piece of information was pretty daunting.

Namjoon nodded, ‘It’s okay. It’s fine. I’ll remember this.’

‘I will be getting drunk either way.’ Jimin giggled. ‘Now,’ he tapped his book as he went along. ‘That is Jin hyung, Hobi hyung and myself for Kenta and Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi hyung for Namjoon hyung. Three for three.’

‘Four for three.’

Jungkook watched Jin stiffen and Jungkook joined him in turning his head toward the entryway..

Oh. Him.

Huru leaned casually, against the door jam, hands in his coat and nodded at each of them in greeting.

‘I don’t remember inviting you.’ Kenta crossed his arms.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes in confusion.

‘No,’ Huru started his approach, ‘but I owe you an apology. For earlier.’ He cleared his throat and offered Kenta his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

Kenta narrowed his eyes. 'How did you even get past my security, and my codes.’

'I taught you those codes, Ken,’ Huru pursed his lips, 'come on.’

Jungkook noted the way Huru made it sound like an absolutely stupid question, but he also knew just how good Kenta was at what he did. So Huru, was a step up, but how, when he couldn’t complete his Noona’s job.

Kenta’s tongue, poked the inside of his cheek, emanating annoyance he didn’t bother to hide. 'Okay, so you’re here, and you’re sorry… for what?’

Jungkook’s lips twitched, Kenta would never be easy. Especially if whatever Huru had done, warranted a face-to-face apology.

Huru flicked his gaze to Namjoon. ‘For all of it.’

Maybe it was the look Huru afforded Namjoon or the rippling adrenaline of his exercise, but Jin hyung decided to make his presence known.

‘It’s not my place to say, because I don’t know and don’t wish to know what this is about,’ Jin moved to sit down next to Yoongi, ‘but Huru doesn’t strike me as someone who cares to apologize unless it’s absolutely necessary.’

Jungkook looked at his Noona’s personal bodyguard. He had a thunderous scowl on his face. Whatever Huru was apologizing for, it clearly didn’t deserve forgiveness if it got a rise out of Kenta, because Kenta was low maintenance.

‘Then again,’ Jin leveled Huru with a hard stare, even if he did want to sound indifferent, ‘if you don’t want to, you can turn him away and continue with your night. It isyournight.’

‘Come on, man. You know me.’ Huru urged his long-time acquaintance. ‘I’m even apologizing in front of your new family.’

No one else would intervene. Jin was the oldest in the room, but he didn’t know Huru. None of them knew the private investigator. They would have to trust Kenta’s judgment and tamp down any curiosity involving whatever this was.

A long, long stretch of silence, as every male in the room sized each other up. Two sides, instincts older than time itself, carrying the scene in front of them. Jungkook watched his hyungs, careful eyes guarded, their energy akin to hackles being raised along their spine. But neither of them gave anything away.

The shift was palpable when Kenta finally met Huru’s handshake.

Trust was a gift, freely given in their family and Kenta had long ago earned his place. Needless to say, their reaction to betrayal would be just as extreme.

'Can you hold down your liquor?’ Yoongi questioned, above holding back his overt interest with the newcomer.

Ah yes. Yoongi hyung hadn’t officially met Huru.

Huru turned fully to face the man Jungkook considered one of the most dangerous and respected individuals in his life. 'I like a challenge. If there is one.’

Yoongi smirked. 'Then consequences be damned.’

Jungkook couldn’t help the shiver that raced up his spine. Anyone that didn’t know Yoongi, that was accustomed to his expressions and moods, would mistake that smirk for a welcoming, playful one.

Jungkook knew better.

Yoongi already didn’t like the man. He was being icily polite. And Taehyung, from the looks of it, made himself quite clear with his lingering stare and immediate dismissal. Vibe check – a resounding ‘fail’!

‘Alright then,’ Jimin attempted to bypass the tension in the air. ‘Four for three.’

Everyone geared up to watch as both men stood below their respective bars.

‘You can go as fast as you can, but if you take more than a ten second break in between a rep, we’re considering it your limit.’ Jimin dropped his book and pulled up his phone. ‘Yoongi hyung, you’ll count Namjoon hyungs reps, Huru, you will count Kenta’s and I will time any break in between.’

Jimin brandished feral excitement. `Gentlemen, take your positions.’ He looked like he was having the time of his life, zoning in on a newly found persona. 'Forget that we have a lot riding on this. And don’t think about the bragging rights about having the best body or physique. And especially, don’t think about your team’s livers.’

Concluding his pressure-inducing motivational speech. He looked at each male and the supporters surrounding them.

'Kenta?'

Kenta gave a short nod. Ready. Waiting. Very at home with anything physical.

'Hyung?'

Namjoon did the same. Serious. Composed. Always willing to give it his best.

'Lift.’ A second. A beat. 'Anddddd go!'

———-

'We’re doing that again.’ Namjoon repeated Kenta’s words from earlier, as he slammed his shot glass on the table.

He was not kidding.

53 - 40 wasn’t a huge window to close on. Kenta was formidable, in his training and discipline and his overall core strength, so for Namjoon to get close to that, even with the struggle; it wasn’t something to look down on and he knew he could push further.

'You’re on.’ Kenta relaxed against his cushion, a satisfied victory smile plastered on his face. 'You can visit with y/n. Or when we’re back.’

'I was close.’ Namjoon reminded himself more than the bodyguard.

'You were. You’ve got grit. And mentally, you're… redoubtable.’

Namjoon arched his brow. 'Big word.’

'Figured you’d appreciate it.’

'I want in on the next one.’ Jungkook sat on the table next to Namjoon, one foot on the chair back and the other on the seat. Seokjin’s maknae was tipsy, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Kenta raised another glass to Jungkook, ever-willing to take on the golden maknae.

They were on the dining room table. Fifty-three different shot glasses sat in front of them. They had to make do since some of them were in sets of six, twelve and fifteen.

Namjoon could feel the effects already. He could drink, socially, and for the enjoyment of it, but it had been a few weeks.

He was doing his best to keep his mind away from the last time he blacked out.

His saving grace was that this time he was with his band. He trusted them implicitly. And Kenta, for all his tolerance and patience would give Namjoon a much needed black eye if he stepped a toe out of line.

The evening went by pretty quickly. They finished their workouts, had quick showers, and everyone was in a pair of sweats or shorts. They ordered a few noodle dishes, some stir-fry, and grilled pork from a nearby restaurant and got to polishing their glasses soon after.

Namjoon had learned a lot about Huru and Kenta. They interacted for a short time, Huru wanting to branch out on his own, and Kenta joining Sylo, but kept in touch for eleven years.

Huru checked in now and then, a postcard, an email, a consult. Sometimes Kenta joined him on jobs. The stories were amazing – something out of an action movie.

Namjoon suspected it before, but now he knew, he stood no chance against Huru’s physicality and experience. The man was too honed, had a razor-sharp wit, a knack for technology and weaponry, and he seemed genuine in his care for Kenta… and y/n. But caring was one aspect of the job, and caring too much encroached on Namjoon’s territory.

That made having the private investigator around a hazard. So Namjoon, and his band, would be polite, respectful, some of them friendly in their own capacity, until he fucked off.

Good thing Huru didn’t stay too long in one place.

'So how are youactuallyfeeling?'

Namjoon swerved his head in the direction of the couches.

Jimin asked Taehyung the question, both of them splayed out on the carpet, Taehyung’s head on Jimin’s knee, Jimin’s head on a throw pillow.

They were both… not completely out of it, but getting there.

Jimin wasn’t required to drink as much as Taehyung, since he was on the winning team, but Jimin liked alcohol and enjoyment. It was his nature to work hard and party hard.

'How the fuck am I supposed to know that? I’m just here, on this fluffy red –,'

'Orange.’ Seokjin corrected him from the couch.

’ – orange carpet, feeling gooooood.’ Taehyung made a classic frog face. His eyes were glazed over and a sense of calm clouded both of Namjoon’s dongsaengs. It was good to see them carefree, after… everything. 'And you?’ Taehyung turned up to face his soulmate.

'Didn’t you hear? I’m on my way to rock bottom?’ Jimin leaned back to face the ceiling. 'Want anything while I’m there?'

Namjoon met Seokjin’s eye, then Yoongi’s, and Hoseok’s. There was no way he was imagining it now. Something was definitely up with Jimin. They, no, he, Namjoon had been too preoccupied to notice.

'Jiminie, rock bottom is pretty far down.’ Hoseok poked tentatively. 'What brings you there?'

'Ah, Hobi hyung. You would understand me.’

'Always.’ Hobi moved off the couch to sit on the floor next to Jimin’s head and handed him another throw pillow which the younger promptly clutched to his chest.

The alcohol was talking. Kenta met Namjoon’s eyes and cleared his throat. 'Uh, Huru,’ he stood up, and waved at his old friend sitting next to Hoseok, 'help me out.’ Kenta motioned to the kitchen.

Huru, seemingly not as dense as he made himself out to be, afforded them some privacy. Namjoon acknowledged Kenta with a head nod. Some types of gratitude couldn’t be put into words.

'It’s a lot.’ Jimin circled the outline of the chandelier on the ceiling with his small forefinger. 'This life and that I’m wasting it and that I’m going to look back with regret.’

Namjoon rested his large hand on Jungkook’s thigh to settle his maknae when he would have moved.

'Jiminie.’ Taehyung sat up, a sober level of concern causing an adorable pout to form. 'Are you okay?'

A deep breath. 'The world is spinning. And it all seems impossible.’

'I’m okay.’ Jimin sighed. 'I mean when you think about it. Rock bottom isn’t uncomfortable. It’s just hard, you know.’ Namjoon watched his dongsaeng smile sadly. ‘That feeling deep in your tummy where it’s uncomfortable and you long for something, and usually you don’t know. But how helpless it is, when you know what the problem is and can’t do a damn thing about it.’ A tear rolled down his cheek.

‘Jiminie,’ Jin hesitated, as he asked. Namjoon couldn’t fathom what would make his maknae feel so defeated.

‘I can’t tell you, hyung. You won’t get it.’

Jin’s expression shifted, Nmajoon knew it was partly because of the subtle blow that he wouldn’t understand and that Jimin hadn’t come to him before, and partly because he seemed to be calculating matters, weighing options the way Namjoon did before making a decision.

‘Try us.’ Yoongi. Two words. His meaning was so clear, as if he’d said a thousand words, tagged their consequences and reassured him that they would always be there for him.

'Hmm. You’ll judge me. But that’s okay.’ Jimin tucked his hands behind his head. ‘You’ll see. I’ll be on my way up in no time.’

Was Jimin making an attempt to come out or something? Was that the issue? If so, there was no issue at all. Taehyung was bi, y/n was bi, Namjoon wouldn’t put it past any of his maknae’s to have experimented. Jia, Yuna’s assistant on set, was a lesbian and Yoongi always expressed having no lines drawn between genders when love was involved. The world had progressed. Jimin had to know they would never judge him for anything.

This was about something else.

‘What are you talking about?’ Jimin closed his eyes and Taehyung shoved his shoulder hard. 'Tell me.’ Tae whined.

'Jimi –,’ Taehyung was ready to protest when Yoongi cut him off.

'Taehyung,’ Yoongi reprimanded sharply. ‘When he’s ready. When he’s sober.’ Yoongi reached over to brush his fingers against Taehyung’s skull, not wanting his dongsaeng to pout. 'If he doesn’t tell you, who is he gonna tell? Hmm?'

'Okay,’ Seokjin stood up and took the bottles away from them. 'That’s enough alcohol for both of you. Jungkook get Kenta back here. He shouldn’t have to excuse himself in his own house. And Jimin, I know you’re not completely out of it, but the next family meeting will be about you.’’

——-

‘Want a beer?’ Kenta opened his fridge and grabbed a six pack.

‘Sure.’

Sometimes a beer was just a beer. Kenta popped off the lids without an opener and handed one over.

Kenta wasn’t sure at first. Maybe it had been too long, too far apart in their lifestyles and choices. But now he was sure. This Huru, was not the one Kenta knew.

Huru was different. There was no way to compare, but if Kenta remembered correctly, using a memory he would put money on at any point in time, Huru used to be reserved, with a quiet intensity. He had dark humor, cared to a certain extent despite his cynicism and did his best not to partake in societal expectation or reveal aspects of personality.

This Huru apologized, showed emotion, shook hands… If Kenta was being rational, the man could have a brain tumor causing a drastic personality change, which correlated with the whole stable job, stable lifestyle narrative.

But looking for the best in people and making excuses for them was y/n’s area of expertise, not Kenta’s.

He took a swig of his beer and waited.

Kenta didn’t particularly want Huru around, not for work, small talk, especially not around his new family. He only pulled Huru aside to give Jimin some room. The man had been doing his fair share of handling his own shit, for three years no less. If he thought it was time to explain to his hyungs, Kenta would duly give him that.

'I want to apologize, again.’ There was that apology. Again. ‘For earlier. I didn’t mean to overstep. I know you’re looking out for her. But, I promise, despite my attraction to her, I wouldn’t break a marriage by going after a married woman.’

It did seem… far-fetched. Too much drama. In their line of work, simple was better and drama was a nuisance to factor in. But so was love. That four-letter word put a huge dent on any five-year plan. Kenta wouldn’t indulge ‘love’ though. Not in the Huru aspect of things.

‘Whatever decision she makes. Yoshi or myself,’ Huru conceded. ‘I will respect it and I will stay out of her way.’

‘Youwere talking through your ass.’

That quick, Kenta got a half-smile, making it seem like their earlier altercation was something to move past.

Huru was not obtuse enough to think all was forgiven, but at least an easy stance from Kenta’s side would make the asshole stop apologizing.

‘But I appreciate the apology.’ As Namjoon would say. Appreciate the apology, it was in their capacity to give – accepting it was Kenta’s choice. ‘If they knew what it was about, you wouldn’t be here right now.’

Sharp eyes regarded him as Huru took a swig of his own beer. He hadn’t lost the quiet intensity. ‘Why didn’t you tell them?’

‘For the same reason you used the word everything as a substitute for the context.’

‘They’ve made up their mind.’ Huru leaned a forearm on the counter behind him. ‘They don’t like me.’ Boo-hoo. The relaxed stance was a good touch, and would work on anyone else, but Kenta knew how deadly the male in front of him could be. How far he could go.

‘When have you ever cared about what other people thought of you?’

‘I don’t.’

Kenta raised his eyebrow.

Huru sighed. ‘I’m diverting routes, Ken. I’ve done the dark and mysterious thing for ten years now. I have multiple properties, enough money to retire and enough experience to pass on what I’ve learned.’ He closed one eye and looked at his beer bottle. ‘Some stability wouldn’t be so bad.’

Kenta didn’t know what Huru saw, when he stared at the bottle, but he had a pretty good idea. Beers were chilled. It had a certain energy of friends circling a worn-out wooden table in the backyard with the barbecue set up, and a bunch of stories to go around talking about as the sun set. A sight kenta dare not imagine, until Y/n, Yuna and the team Sylo hand-picked him. ‘And I support you. Like I said. But do not look for stability with y/n.’ Dismissing the sadness he felt for a male that didn’t deserve his sympathy, Kenta drew his line in the sand. ‘Even if you are considered for the position. It’s mine when I get back.’

‘I thought I wasn’t stepping on any toes.’ A playful sentence, with an undertone of mockery.

‘You aren’t. My position in y/n’s life doesn’t change.’ Kenta leaned on his forearms, relaxing his body to show how at ease he was with his decision, counting on Huru’s brain to piece together what he would be losing. ‘Your position however…’

Huru’s smile didn’t fade. ‘We’re friends.’

‘You are currently not being a nice friend.’

‘You wound me.’

‘I stick by my statement.’

Kenta had to hand it to him – Huru was a good manipulator. He felt a soft smile bubble up, their old friendship shining through after so many years.

‘So this is what they do at bachelor parties, huh.’

‘Never been to one?’

A subtle shake of his head. ‘I don’t make friends.’

‘I wonder why.’ This felt normal. Acerbic comments, sarcasm, teasing, telltales of an old friendship where they stitched each other’s wounds and washed away dry blood.

Huru said nothing.

Kenta followed Huru’s line of sight when he was quiet for longer than a minute. ‘Is my kitchen faucet interesting?’

A frown presented itself. ‘They're… human.’

Kenta blinked. He wouldn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘And you’re not?’

‘You know what I mean.’

Slowly Kenta rebuilt his guard, one piece at a time and reminded himself not to be careless. He could not afford to be careless. Not because of who he faced, but the men he would step in front of. Y/n would never ask, but Kenta, if the choice was in his hand, would never say no.

‘What?’ He asked, unperturbed as he threw away his empty bottle. ‘Your vocabulary doesn’t span wide enough to describe any of the men out there?’

‘Taehyung and Jimin, are the most social, most youthful, optimistic and fun, but they hide pain, and would rather use their sense of humor as a coping mechanism. Seokjin is the oldest, physically impressive, striking as an individual and keeps his team together, fed and functional. Hoseok is like a blanket. Comfort and warmth, but capable of ripping it off you in the early hours of the morning to wake your ass up and smell the coffee. Yoongi is the mentally imposing and mean-looking one. He makes it look like emotions are arduous and unnecessary, but he feels deeply. Jungkook is the mockingjay. Everyone wants either to kiss him, kill him or be him.’ Fucker was quoting Hunger Games. ‘He loves as deeply as Yoongi, he pushes as much as Hoseok, steadfast like Seokjin, playful as his ‘’soulmate’’ hyungs, and smart and patient like his leader.’

Kenta didn’t prompt him for Namjoon – Huru was obviously saving the best for last.

‘Kim Namjoon. Controlled. Calculated.’ Huru made a dismissive movement with his bottle. ‘Not when y/n is concerned. He commands every room he enters, captures attention easily, delegates without contest, and is trusted beyond reason. Which is why his cheating scandal was such a blow.’

‘Gotta hand it to Jackson, that’s a pretty good song.’

Kenta wasn’t trying to be disparaging. It was actually quite terrifying how well Huru read the band, in such a short time. Body language, pitch, tone, grip, breathing pattern, musculature, EQ and IQ… Huru wasthatgood.

‘You listen to pop music now.’ Huru played along.

‘I’ve lived in the world too long not to embrace it.’ Kenta popped off the cap of another beer and decided to cut the crap. ‘This isn’t going to sway me Huru.’

‘I’m not trying to.’

‘Yeah?’ Kenta looked down his nose, purposely pulling rank. ‘That’s why you’re at a bachelor party that’s none of your concern? Trying to get acquainted with the band, learning them, getting a foot in?’

‘I already have a foot in.’

‘Where? A grave?’ Because that’s where he’ll be forced to put Huru if he fucked with his girl.

‘I get it Ken.’ Huru pursed his lips, maintaining his bored tone. ‘Y/n has an inferiority complex. She has a soft heart under all that strength. She loves her husband and her family, and that love is a primal thing with teeth and claws if she is ever put in a position to fight for them. Old wounds and a resentful past she still hasn’t healed from. Borderline daddy issues, plenty who love her in their own way, but only one man who loves her as she needs it…’ Huru lifted his gaze to Kenta’s, a clear challenge. ‘Who fucked it up for himself.’

It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that Namjoon was not out of the picture, but Huru continued.

‘You want her safe, but also taken care of. And it goes well beyond the job description.’

The ripple of tension made itself known as Kenta clenched his jaw. ‘Still not helping your case.’

‘I can learn.’

Fucking stubborn – he took a swig of his beer, before the left his mouth. ‘Yoshi doesn’t have to.’

Internally, Kenta dared Huru to say something about Yoshi. Anything. About him being too young, too nervous, too inexperienced. Despite his workout earlier, he buzzed with energy. And Huru incited Kenta’s protective instincts on a level beyond control. Talking, being honest, reminiscing… it was worth shit at this point.

If Huru needed Kenta’s point to be made, physically, Kenta was willing to indulge him.

‘I promise not to push.’

‘I promise,’ Kenta steeled himself, ‘we will no longer be anythingif you shove your experience down Sylo’s throat.’

Huru straightened up, a snake uncoiling its body. ‘She means that much to you.’

Kenta kept his face expressionless as he stared his former friend down. So much darkness, so much obsession, so many wars, nightmares and memories… and nowhere to put it.

‘Ken,‘ Jungkook cleared his throat.

Huru broke away first and Kenta answered, ‘Kook?’

‘Jin hyung,’ Jungkook motioned to the lounge with his head, answer enough.

Huru made eye contact with Kenta, indicating this wasn’t over before exiting to the lounge.

Kenta blew out a puff of air as he watched Huru round the corner. Things could have been different. They could have worked together. They could have always been friends. Turning to face Jungkook, he regarded the youngest member of the band. His face a polite mask, his lips tight, strands of his black hair barely blocking the frown lines marring his forehead. ‘How much did you hear?’

‘Almost everything,’ Jungkook breathed.

‘Quiet footfalls,’ Kenta mused.

‘I’ve always been light on my feet.’

Of that, there was no doubt. Jungkook was made for the spotlight, for the world. Things that were nearly impossible for others, came almost naturally to Jungkook. Almost. Where he lacked or fell short, he made up for with resolute determination.

The maknae swallowed hard. ‘Does Namjoon hyung know?’

‘No.’ Kenta crossed his arms. He wasn’t defensive because he wanted to keep the Huru issue to himself and feared Jungkook’s loyalty ran too deep. Kenta was just slightly irritated; he put the maknae in a position where Jungkook had to choose.

‘Does Noona know?’

‘He went above me to ask your Noona. She has no self-preservation.’ Kenta couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice.

‘I think we can trust her on this one.’

Even Kenta couldn’t help the warmth that crept in his chest seeing how easy it was for Jungkook to trust y/n’s judgment, but he shook his head. ‘Not when she thinks it’s only a year. I have a feeling when I come back, it’ll be harder to remove him. Especially if he gets close to her.’

Jin would hand Kenta his ass for involving Jungkook in politics such as this, but the kid trusted him and he would be damned if he so much as bruised that gift.

Jungkook placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’ll take care of her, Ken. We’ll miss you. But we love her. We’ll be extra careful.’

‘I know. But that shouldn’t be your responsibility.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Jungkook frowned, his nose scrunched in annoyance.

Kenta’s face spoke for him within these walls, with these people or it would have never prompted Jungkook to question the wheels turning in his head. ‘He’s not going to drop it. Even if he doesn’t get my position. He’s looking to stick around here.’

‘Is that a bad thing? Is he such a bad guy?’

A tic on his jaw from clenching too hard, Kenta transformed his answer to a question. ‘What do your instincts tell you?’

Confusion took over Jungkook. At having been asked, or being given say or maybe because Kenta was one of the few people affording respect to the maknae, in an area he clearly had no expertise.

‘That he needs to be kept at arm’s length.’ Jungkook licked his lip. ‘But I also know Noona can take care of herself.’

Kenta felt his own lips curve. ‘You’re spoiled Jungkook. She’d give you the world.’

A slow smile. ‘I know.’ The sheen behind the smile diminished. ‘You should let him,’ he bit his lip. ‘Be Noona’s bodyguard, I mean.

Intrigued, Kenta aligned his back with the counter and made no move to disregard the maknae’s idea.

Seeing that he had Kenta’s undivided attention, Jungkook let loose on his theory. ‘He’s done this whole ‘lone wolf’ thing for a long time, right?’

A nod of confirmation.

‘So, why now? Why Seoul? Why with Noona? Why in your place?’

Kenta thought about it for a minute. Coincidence was coincidence, but with so many factors – It was almost perfect.

‘Let’s say he’s not bad. That he actually wants to, I don’t know, do the stable thing.’ Jungkook counted his fingers one by one. ‘He does his job, protects Noona, gets close to us, in the end you’ll come back and make things right again.’ Closing his fist, he mirrored Kenta’s position. ‘If he’s bad and has alternative motives or whatever, like you said he won’t stop. Thing is, we won’t know if he’s not close to us.’

Jungkook was brilliant, if not a little reckless. Because if Huru did have alternative motives and anyone actually caught that, he was capable of death and far worse. But Jungkook was right. As idols, keeping an eye out wouldn’t be hard, because they’re supposed to look good and do whatever it is that artists do. Keeping an enemy close.

Kenta had to admit, he hated it because he might not be around to help them and he was the one that had brought Huru into their lives.

‘Why not watch it play out?’ Jungkook added when Kenta’s silence stretched too long.

Kenta narrowed his eyes. ‘Ever consider a career in espionage?’

‘Not really.’ Jungkook’s lips twitched. ‘Seems interesting though. Think I got it in me?’

‘I think you, Jeon Jungkook,’ Kenta swung an arm over the maknae’s shoulder, ‘can rule the world, if you wanted to.’

There.The stars in Jungkook’s eyes. Y/n was right.

‘Come on, let’s get back. I want to kick your ass at something.’

Jungkook shifted his body, his hands going into his pockets. ‘I’m an amateur at pool.’

‘Pool it is then.’ Kenta agreed and marched them both out the door.

Jungkook stopped him just over the threshold. ‘What about…’ Jungkook motioned his head.

Kenta kept his displeasure at bay. He didn’t want the maknae worrying about his family or his Noona. There was already too much on his plate. ‘Let’s watch it play out.’

They were out the door, almost to the lounge when Jungkook spoke again.

‘Hey Ken?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Can I use your Glock?’

‘No. Nice try though.’

———-

Namjoon watched as the guys split into teams of two to play pool. He was content to stand aside with Hoseok and switch when the time came, seeing as they were odd as a collective, but how he wound up with the dick next to him, he didn’t know.

‘Huru.’

‘Namjoon.’

‘I see you don’t have a knack for honorifics.’

‘Neither do you.’

It was a petty exchange, but Namjoon was not going to admit that.

He focused on his family, doing his best to ignore the shadow on his left.

Jimin and Taehyung sipped water quietly at the bar. Taehyung, having pulled Jimin’s barstool in front of his own, rested his head on Jimin’s shoulder; his concern for his soulmate evident.

Jungkook stood next to Yoongi, who was currently doing his shot. They had one ball left. However, Jin and Kenta, the opposing team, standing on the opposite end of the table, only had the eight ball.

‘You know, I’ve been on a winning streak all night. I don’t see why it’s gonna change now.’

Yoongi lined his cue stick, got down to eye-level. ‘Only insecure opponents try to intimidate the other team.’ He pulled back… and Namjoon watched the white ball hit the green, bounce off the edge and shoot into a corner pocket.

‘Yes!’ Jungkook lunged for his hyung, hugging him in excitement.

Yoongi straightened up and shot Kenta a lopsided grin. ‘You were saying.’

‘It’s not over.’ Jin reminded smoothly.

Jin had that ability – to stay cool under pressure. Well, they all did. And it was a particularly scrutinized trait in Namjoon, because he stood at the forefront of it all. But Jin had quietly honed the ability. His confidence unwavering in any situation, in the face of whatever life may throw at him. A game of pool wasn’t any different.

‘Okay, okay,’ Yoongi gently pried the maknae off him. ‘We haven’t won yet.’

‘You know,’ Namjoon chewed over the thought in his mind. ‘Kook used to be more shy.’

Hoseok snorted next to him. ‘Y/n would kick your ass for calling him out on that.’

‘Character development.’

They craned their necks to the left, simultaneously.

‘Are you trying to make a joke?’ Hoseok asked, barely concealing his astonishment.

Huru shrugged. ‘Was it good?’

Namjoon had to agree it was. He didn’t say so.

Hoseok nodded his head. ‘It’s fair. Practice though. Oil your parts a bit more.’

Namjoon drowned out Huru’s voice. The less he knew, the better it was, so Namjoon couldn’t rationalize and be fair – which was an automatic response to emotion in his brain.

Yoongi had missed his shot. Jin, Kenta and Kook took their turns skirting around the eight ball until finally Jin got it in a middle pocket.

‘Told you,’ Kenta goaded, getting the rack to set the balls up for the next game, ‘winning streak.’

Namjoon couldn’t be mad. Kenta was very rarely playful and relaxed. It seemed like the band, and the uninvited guest were good company. The night was not over yet.

He couldn’t wait to go home to y/n. Things were finally getting better. She hadn’t kissed him yet. But they were hugging, holding hands, touching some part of each other when they were in the same room – she was letting him in again.

He loved when she was open with him. She talked animatedly, and her eyes danced and she showed her true emotions. Yeah. Namjoon missed her and missed her safe place.

‘Joon?’

‘Hmm?’ He looked up to see everyone staring, Jin holding out a cue stick for him. ‘Oh, sorry.’

‘Missing y/n?’ Jimin teased as everyone maneuvered themselves. Jin took the barstool next to Jimin and Taehyung, Kenta leaned against the sliding door near the balcony and Jungkook stood next to him.

Namjoon dropped his head, trying to hide his reaction to the good natured teasing.

‘Hah! Hyung, that was a guess!’

‘Shurrup.’ Namjoon placed his hands on either side of the snooker table and looked up. ‘Who’s my partner?’

‘Me.’ Taehyung jumped up and down on his stool.

Namjoon lolled his head in Taehyung’s direction. ‘Are you sober?’

Namjoon’s wild card maknae raised his hand in front of his face. ’I’m holding up four fingers.’

‘Convincing.’

‘And I’m yours,’ Hoseok clasped Huru’s hand in ‘broness’.

Namjoon laughed internally. Hoseok was overdoing it a bit.

‘Let’s make this more interesting. Every pocket,’ Huru chalked the tip of his cue stick, ’gets to question anyone in the room.’

‘What? Like a ripped off version of Truth or Dare?’ Taehyung rested his chin on his own stick.

‘That’s not fair to the people who aren’t playing.’ Kenta pointed out, his expression unreadable.

‘Not if we give our question freely to another person.’

‘This has no rules and no foundation,’ Jin argued.

‘Indulge me,’ Huru glanced at each of them in turn. ‘I am the odd one out.’

‘Let’s try it.’ Hoseok declared. ’Let’s find a footing and if it doesn’t work or if any lines are crossed, we stop.’

Namjoon met Taehyung’s penetrating gaze. Maybe it wasn’t that deep, but they would never back down from a challenge.

Huru flipped a coin. 'Call it.’

'Heads.'

'Tails.’

He removed his hand from the coin and looked up at Taehyung. 'Tails.’

Taehyung’s boxy smile made itself known and Namjoon chuckled when it was aimed toward him. 'Yeah, you can break.’

His shot was hard, and the balls scattered across the table, one making it into a corner pocket.

Grinning in triumph, Taehyung rested his cue stick on the floor and zoned in on his first target.

'Kenta. Which famous person, not in this room, and not your wife or y/n, do you wish was your BFF?'

To Namjoon’s astonishment, Kenta actually snorted. 'Famous’ is a broad concept, Tae, and I don’t like having friends. I barely tolerate you people.’

'I resent that.’ Jin said as he opened a beer for himself.

'The only reason you’re around is because your broad shoulders won’t fit through my doorway.’

Jin wiggled his eyebrows, in a truly embarrassing fashion. 'So you notice my broad shoulders.’

'Firstly, you’re not gay,’ Yoongi pointed out to their eldest hyung, 'and Ken there must be someone in the idol industry you would like to get to know better.’

Namjoon watched the bodyguard think, which was a sight on its own considering he always had a wall up.

'HUTA,’ the bodyguard replied, after a moment. 'Honestly, he’s been around for a long time, he’s got killer abs. It would just be pretty cool to get to know him.’

HUTA was a veteran in the industry. Their sunbae. His physique was… to die for. Literally. Kenta definitely had 'workout regimen’ at the top of his list there. Namjoon wouldn’t generalize but band’s had their own energies, their own rep, and HUTA’s bandmates were very much liked and very much respected because they were just that great to be around.

'Abs? That’s your selling point. Are you sure you’re not gay? There’s still time. Yuna would understand.’

'Tae, you know how hard it is to get sculpted abs.’

Namjoon grinned at the fact that the self-imposing, wall of steel, bodyguard, wasn’t offended at the question of being gay, just complaining about not having abs. This was why Kenta was so great

'Depends.’

Kenta pointed his finger in Huru’s direction. 'If you have sculpted abs, you can’t have an opinion.’

Huru held his hands up in surrender.

'Okay move on,’ Hoseok said, 'before Jungkook takes off his shirt and you all have 'the best abs’ contest.'

Jungkook muttered an 'I would win tho,’ which earned a whack on the leg from Hoseok’s stick.

Taehyung missed his next shot. Huru got a ball in on his turn and got into a debate with Yoongi about whether he believed in karma and why it mattered so much.

Of course, Yoongi believed in karma. They were living proof that karma bit hard. Their band had always been a sure thing, a phenomenon, as y/n would say, 'a thing of beauty written in the stars’.

Huru missed his next shot, then it was Namjoon’s turn. Unfortunately he was too wide, but he salvaged his miss with a graceful set up for Taehyung’s turn.

Hoseok hit two in one go and since they were making rules as they went along, he was allowed two questions.

'Jimin you want one?'

'Yes, please.’ Jimin did his signature eye-smile.

'Go first.’

'Jin hyung, who are you most grateful to have met in your life?'

Jin squinted. 'Someone from this room or…’

'Outside this room.’

'Easy. Y/n.’

Namjoon leaned forward, 'Seriously?’ He raised his eyebrow at his hyung, 'Why?'

Namjoon wasn’t an asshole. He didn’t suspect anything. He was just intrigued. Y/n incited a protective streak from all his band members and Jin constantly babied her, made her feel loved and cared for, like a guardian more than a brother, but still balanced the brother role and the brother-in-law role.

Jin blatantly looked at Huru. 'I have my reasons.’

They let it drop. Namjoon would have to remember to ask about it later, because his hyung wouldn’t talk about his feelings with a stranger, one too eager to step into their lives.

'Oh-kay,’ Hoseok piped up awkwardly, 'Kenta, this is a bit darker, but… if somehow you had to choose someone to shoot you, and the options were only open to our inner circle, who would it be?'

'Y/n.’

Hoseok’s smirk fell away, and Namjoon went ramrod straight. 'You didn’t even hesitate.’

'Because I love Yuna more than her.’ It was a fact, a statement, one they all knew. 'And I trust y/n to do what is necessary.’

'You would ruin her.’ Namjoon accused. Y/n was brutal and harsh when it was required, of course he was privy to her soft side most of the time, but she was not a killer.

Kenta faced him head on. 'If you were in my place, would you ask any of the band, or y/n?'

Namjoon considered it… and relented. ‘No.’ He would ask Yuna or Kenta. He would never do that to his band. He would never hurt y/n that way. Never again.

'Thought so.’ The bodyguard leaned turned to the balcony, deep in thought.

'Okay, guys, these are theoretical.’ Hoseok buffered as he set up his next shot.

He got it in. Again.

'Huru,’ he turned to his partner, who looked like he was waiting for attention, 'have you ever been heartbroken?’

Namjoon froze. He felt Taehyung next to him pause in whatever funny thing he was doing with the chalk, and somehow heard the collective inhale of his band. Because Hoseok was the expert in heartbreak, Hoseok was nursing one, and Hoseok might never be able to recover from it.

'I have.’ Huru nodded his head. 'High school sweetheart. The long-distance cliche.'

'Where is she now?’ Jimin asked, sharp and fully functional.

Huru turned back to him. “Why would you assume I know where she is now?'

Jimin leaned back on the bar, his arms spread out on either side. 'Because I know who I’m talking to.’

A slow, slow smile grew on the PI’s face. 'She’s in the States. Married with two kids. Accountant. She’s a housewife. Fairly normal.’

When Namjoon thought he was done talking, Huru spoke again. 'I might have to add onto the list of heartbreaks soon.’

Jimin pounced. 'Why? Got your eye on anyone?'

Instead of answering Jimin, Huru turned to Namjoon. 'Ever been heartbroken Namjoon?'

Something shifted.

Namjoon could usually calibrate, isolate, localize, his emotions, his decisions, his pros and cons, and he very easily read through the lines of the last twenty seconds using his high IQ, but he suddenly felt very very… primitive.

'Ah ah, no pocket, no question.’ Hoseok dismissed Huru with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Jin and Yoongi both glanced his way, but he didn’t meet their eyes. Namjoon followed Huru with his own eyes, as Hoseok missed his next shot, and Taehyung nailed his, with Namjoon’s set up.

Namjoonfelt his hyungs trying to ground him.

'Kook, I’ll give you mine.’

Jungkook, who was more focused on his drink, turned to the Huru.

'What’s the most worthwhile place you’ve visited?'

Huru pondered over it. 'India.’ Before anyone could ask why, he explained himself. 'The tranquility. Like every country there’s a lot wrong and a lot right. But the one thing, the majority of the people get right, is their faith. Faith. Hope. Prayer. It’s quite fulfilling.’

Namjoon didn’t know whether him being an atheist had anything to do with the situation, but his mouth opened before he could stop it.

'Funny.’

Huru frowned at him. 'What?’

Well, no turning back now. 'I get the opposite of the peace, love, zen vibe from you.’

Huru regarded him, but said nothing and Namjoon didn’t know whether to feel relief or irritation that his snide remark didn’t escalate anything.

Taehyung lined up another shot when the silence got too heavy and hit it in. His band members worked well under pressure.

'Tae, can I have this one?’ Hoseok requested

'Sure, hyung.’

'Joon.’ Hoseok’s eyes implored Namjoon as his lips moved, 'What has someone said to you that instantly made you think less of them?'

A connection. A puzzle piece. Hoseok, his best friend, through and through.

Feeling smug, hoping he looked the part, Namjoon turned to Huru to answer, 'Do you want me to lie and say I feel the same?'

He watched the recognition bleed into Huru’s face. Wasn’t that the first thing the private investigator ever told him, in his wife’s boardroom no less.

Namjoon checked his surroundings, feeling the support, as he found hidden smiles on everyone including Kenta.

Unfortunately, Taehyung missed his third shot – his luck seemed to have run out. When

Huru nailed his next shot, Namjoon imagined a cage around his body… willing and waiting for a next attack.

'Jungkook. Which hyung has influenced you the most?'

Steel cage. Mental steel cage. Not to keep anyone out. But to keep himself in.

The maknae scowled. 'I can’t answer that.’

'There is definitely one of them that influences you more than the others.’ Huru pressed further.

Chains on the door. A lock.

Jungkook bit his bottom lip. 'Namjoon hyung.’

Huru smirked, expecting the answer. 'You wish to be like him someday?’

Jungkook nodded slowly.

Huru rested a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, and spoke in a mock whisper. 'Just don’t follow in allhis footsteps.’

Namjoon glowered at Huru. Wishing the floor would cave in right where the asshole stood.

No one moved and no one said anything. This was unchartered territory. Was it a fight? Was the temporary truce broken?

Thankfully, the asshole missed on his turn and it was all Namjoon thereafter.

Two in one. As if he would let the opportunity pass by.

'So Huru,’ Namjoon circled the table and walked toward him. 'Tell me about the time you trusted someone with an important task and they let you down.’ Namjoon made eye contact with him, and held it. 'How did that feel?'

To his credit, the private investigator didn’t play dumb.

'This may come as a surprise, Namjoon, but if a person does not exist, or falls off the face of the Earth, you cannot find them. No PI in the world can find them.’

Namjoon shrugged. 'Or you’re just not good at your job.’

Huru stepped forward, just shy of Namjoon’s personal space. 'Aren’t you being a tad disrespectful?’

Namjoon snapped. 'Sorry. I don’t know how to give respect to a man that tries to get with my wife.’

‘Oh no,’ Yoongi murmured with a blank stare, as the rest of the men converged on the two, ‘when we were all just getting along.’

‘I care about her.’

‘Look around you.’ Namjoon made a circular motion with his finger. 'Every person in this room cares about y/n, but they aren’t pulling the crap you are.’

Namjoon was done with this shit. Why was he here? Why was he stirring the pot? If Huru was as emotionless and easy going as Hobi and Kenta explained why the fuck was the bastard playing cat and mouse with Namjoon? ‘I don’t understand what the hype is about. You’re supposedly quiet. Observant. Understanding. Smart –,’

‘I’m definitely smart enough to know the difference between the mouth of my wife. And that of a random stranger.’

‘What the fuck – ,’

‘I don’t need to explain myself to you.’ Namjoon registered Taehyung’s voice and realized he cut him off, but still his dongsaeng flanked him.

‘Because you can’t.’

Namjoon was fuming, but he was smart enough to discern how much the private investigator enjoyed toying with him. Huru portrayed emotion well. The underlying cruelty in his words, conceited air about himself – it was all there, but didn’t carry enough weight.

Huruwanted Namjoon to be angry. But why?

‘I don’t know you, Huru.’

‘Exactly. So how can you automatically assume I want to get with your wife.’

There was a momentary silence as the words sunk in. It couldn’t be denied that the whole situation was a wrong place, wrong time sort of thing. Where they both got off on the wrong foot and rolled with it.

‘Namjoon be reasonable.’ Jin sidled up to him, pulling the cue stick out of his hand. ‘This isn’t about you or y/n and it’s not the time.’

Namjoon bristled. His hyung wasn’t against him. He knew that. But it still annoyed him to no end that he was the one being told to ‘be the bigger person’. Namjoon knew what he would find when he met his hyung’s gaze. A quiet smolder, one that burned bright to defend his band, and blistering hot when aimed at a threat. But outside Jin was calm, because the asshole hadn’t actually done anything. Verbally bitching sure, but even rabid dogs foamed at the mouth. Physically, Huru was waiting on Namjoon to make a move.

Huru was not a friend or an acquaintance. Raising a hand on Huru, meant criminal charges, legalities, a bad reputation, a lot more shit on his name and he wasn’t riding on a lot after his scandal. He had to remember that this wasn’t Kenta. Any outlier, left or right of the bodyguard Namjoon would shake hands with at any time, was disputable.

Namjoon inhaled, focused on the hand at his back, one of the two men that would surf the lava of an erupting volcano if only asked. Exhaling slowly, he turned to walk away.

‘For a leader, you’re very insecure.’

Namjoon turned at the direct insult ready to fucking swing, but instead of Huru, he faced Jin’s back. ‘That was uncalled for.’ Jin took a step back, forcing Namjoon to do the same.

‘You don’t know us.’ Yoongi pointed out and used Huru’s own words against him. ‘So how can you automatically assume anything about his leadership qualities?’

‘Back off.’ Kenta told Huru as he took a stand between Jin and Huru. A roadblock.

‘Do you really think Y/N would cheat on you?’ Huru ignored Jin and moved around him.

‘Would you shut the fuck up! Where’s all your inhuman control and patience?’ Kenta hissed at his friend.

‘Keep my wife’s name out of your motherfucking mouth,’ Namjoon said through gritted teeth.

Frigid cold in his veins, pulsed dark and deadly, Namjoon wanted to hit Huru. And if he did it once, Namjoon knew he wouldn’t want to stop. Fuck his odds. Fuck the logic of it.

‘It’s a simple, genuine question, Namjoon.’ Huru cocked his head to the side. ‘Do you think she would cheat on you?’ He laughed,’ but then again, that’s how a cheater thinks. You have to watch your back, for when she’ll get her revenge, when she wants to even out the playing field.’

'Don’t you dare talk about y/n that way!’ Namjoon barely noticed that Jungkook held onto him so he didn’t take another step forward.

Namjoon didn’t even entertain the notion of y/n cheating. He trusted y/n’s word. He trusted her with his life, his heart. She would never betray him.

'That’s the difference!’ Huru spat at him, as if reading Namjoon’s mind, 'She wouldneverdo it to you.’

'Don’t act like you know her!’ Hoseok shouted. Truce, bro-ness, benefit of the doubt, all out the window..

'Why are you here?’ Jin folded his arms and asked calmly, his nostrils flaring. 'Not even Kenta wants you here. Your job is done.'

'Not necessarily.’ The practical question bl

Fri, 20 May 2022 17:33:58

Nerve_25.0 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Part 25.1 - Wildflower

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Part 24.5 - Divide

~~Part 25.0 - Dissidence~~

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);

Word Count - 4.6k

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A/N - Ah! Finally!! Apologies apologies, I did the most on this five-part update and took TIME. It was,,, fun.

But anyyyyywayy, 25.0 update tells all, so there’s no actualsuspense about what went down, however,,, the night of bachelor and bachelorette parties are supposed to be drunken and fun and carefree,,, right? sooo what happened and how it happened and with who,,,hmm

Thank you for waiting,

xoxo Dee

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‘Here’s the last of the footage.’ Bree handed Kenta the hard drive housing Orbit’s camera footage.

He thanked her absently and examined the rectangular box in his hand. The drive looked easy enough to work with, so backtracking wouldn’t be a problem.

Lifting his head up he watched as his team recouped in the small boardroom. He’d focus on the footage later. ‘We won’t be long, Bree.’ He added as she turned to make her way out the door.

‘No worries. Take your time.’ She offered a warm smile. ‘I’ll touch base with my staff and then keep Yuna company.’

Kenta appreciated it. He gave a curt nod and shut the door behind her. He kept his hand on the door. Something solid to keep him steady.

Yuna had stormed into Bree’s office for sanctuary when shit hit the fan. He heard her exchange with y/n and hadn’t seen her since. He didn’t go after her because she needed time to cool off and he needed to collect his team.

It had been one of the most fucked up nights of his life. Top five. Definitely. Huru and Namjoon, Y/n and Maiya, Y/n and Yuna, Yoshi …

He pulled out his earpiece and ran a hand through his hair. The most fucked up part, was Maiya’s trump card.

Yuna, Y/n, Yoshi… He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One thing at a time. One. At a time.

The tension rolled off him in waves. He knew his team could feel it too and he would not waste his time hiding it.

He couldn’t sit. So he made his way to the head of the long table. Placing the hard drive on the table he removed his jacket and hung it on the chair and folded his arms across his chest to survey the carnage.

Yeon and Zwahn stood up against the wall on his left, one foot across the other, both hands in their pockets. Their heads hung low, silent, despondent and disappointed in themselves. Kenta hated to see some of his best hanging their heads in such a manner but he held back his need to assure them.

Kiri sat on the chair at the other end of the table, dressing Xan’s wounds. A black-eye, a few bruises, a busted lip, nothing serious enough for Kenta to rein in his displeasure. Did Kenta want to fuck up anyone that ever dared to lay a hand on his team? Of course. But the kid didn’t have to know that.

Kenta closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Yoshi was at the hospital. Kenta would head there soon enough. He would have postponed this meeting if Yoshi was alone, but Kae-Lee jumped in the back of the ambulance and promised to keep him updated. Kae-Lee knew how this worked and Kenta wouldn’t kid himself – Kae-Lee knew Yoshi best.

‘Done?’ He asked Kiri, when she finished taping up the gash on Xan’s forearm. She nodded in answer, closed the kit and pushed it to the side. She swallowed hard but her gaze didn’t waver and she didn’t flinch or let any fear show. Her spine made Kenta damn proud to be her mentor.

He looked at each of them. Yeon, the most senior member who worked with Sylo and Huru, probably with more experience than all of them combined. He was supposed to be leading his own team, but he chose to work with Kenta instead. Actually that was a lie. Kenta all but dragged him away from the precipice he was heading toward. Where Huru and Kenta had a weird mentor mentee bond, Yeon and Kenta formed a kinship over violence and the darkness that came with it. Yeon had killed, tortured, and lived in nightmares. Kenta knew firsthand that taking a life changed a man in a way nothing else would, so killing multiple… it was something Yeon could never come back from. Kenta never pried into those encrypted files and Yeon never shared, but everyone knew, under all that apathy was a firestorm, uncontrollable and utterly terrifying.

Zwahn was a wild card recruited by another one of the senior members. He’d protected his fair share of celebrities worldwide, and knew the consequences of small mistakes. Zwahn lost someone he loved when he was younger. His detail was an art perpetrator in his prime, son to a well-known museum director and had his fingers in sorts of pies. Artifacts, jewels, ancient texts… Unfortunately, the young man’s life was less valuable than the goods he was transporting. Zwahn tried to save him, but he carried his own set of injuries from the blast and woke up from a coma three weeks later, a former shell of himself.

Kiri, having left under honorable conditions, was fresh out of active duty. In exchange for the military paying for her medical degree, she had to do four years of active service and found a new passion in the field of guns and combat. She had it hard with her family; they expected the Doctor, the name, the money, the stethoscope and the pride of saying their daughter was a doctor. Kiri was a warrior for defying all of that and then some. It would never be Kenta’s story to tell, nor his right to know, but Kiri was non-deployable during her pregnancy and despite taking precautions, lost her baby. She left the military soon after, never said a word about the father or who he was and as far as anyone knew, she hadn’t had a boyfriend either.

Anyone could put two and two together.

Xan was… a lot. Kenta was not hard-assed or exaggerating. Xan had a hot head, a hot temper and wanted to prove himself in every task thrown his way. He wasn’t sure of himself. He was too young and life hadn’t handed him his ass like the rest of the team. Kenta knew why Sylo saddled him with Xan; Sylo wanted them to cool him down, strap some weights to his feet and remind the young man that the ground was stable, that he needed to crawl, walk, run and then jump when he was ready. It had been a hard year. Not to say Kenta would ever give up on him, the kid had remarkable potential, but he needed a wake up call. Badly.

And the baby of their team – Jinx. Kenta’s little minx. Yuna’s favorite. Y/n’s babygirl. And how could she not be. Jinx was her father’s daughter, Sylo’s one and only. She was smart, but as wet behind the ears as Xan. Temper. Tantrums. Attitude. Pride. Resilience. And she absolutely refused to be known as her father’s daughter. It was information only a select few were privy to. At the very least she didn’t lack maturity. Jinx would charm the world with her smile and be a dissident leader when she found herself.

Yoshi was, by definition, Kenta’s golden child. Despite his emotional intelligence, Kenta didn’t bother to hide how much faith he had in Yoshi. Five years in y/n’s team, eight in the industry overall, Yoshi was a young Kenta. Sort of.

He followed the rules and knew when to break them. He kept his emotions in check and physical responses under control but knew how to protect and defend. Yoshi with the stars in his eyes and the twinkle in his smile didn’t let the world get him down, moved forward even when life weighed on him and above all, respected y/n.

Yoshi didn’t have a savage past, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his fair share of life to deal with. Kenta’s second, at a moment’s notice would be Yeon. In a diastrate situation Yeon knew how to keep the team together, but only until Yoshi was fit to step up as next in line.

It was archaic. Heirs, the next in line, passing of the torch, and whatnot, but this was life, and death could happen anytime. Sylo had a second in command in Huru, who he’d call back at the helm unless he considered Kenta to lead the security company, the band had a second leader in Jin until Hoseok formally took the title, and y/n would give Ria power of attorney when the time was right.

This team, these people, they knew about hard life, they were strong, they were fighters and loyal to the bone. Maybe compared to what they had already been through, protecting y/n was child’s play, but despite their experiences, Kenta knew they took their job seriously. And y/n was easy to love, easy to want to keep alive.

'So,’ Kenta started, 'who’s going to give me the rundown?’

Silence.

He placed both his hands on the office chair in front of him. 'Don’t raise your hands all at once…’ he muttered.

When neither of them spoke, the frustration that coursed through Kenta pushed to the fore and for a second he forgot all about their lives and backstories and who they were.

'Y/n was held at gunpoint!’ He banged his fist on the table in front of him. 'Not only her,’ he spread his arms out, 'but the people associated with her.'

He straightened up and stalked each of them. 'Lirrah, a well-known idol, a loved, living, breathing representative of this country.’ He turned from Yeon to Zwahn. 'Ria, an architect, the COO of Arem Architecture and Design, a spokesperson for women’s rights and a UN Ambassador.’ He walked away from them towards Kiri’s chair. 'Kae-Lee, a concept artist, in-demand, known for her collaborations with other artists around the world, partaking in movies, high-end photography, and raising money for her local animal shelters.’ He stopped right behind Xan and looked to the floor. 'Yuna. Mei.’ He grated the name out. ‘Producer. Director. Screenwriter. Best-selling author, and motivational speaker.’ He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He had to steady himself. If he even considered any of the ways this night could have ended, any of the worst case scenarios, losing Yuna… No. He shook his head and walked slowly back to his place. 'And Kim Y/n.’ He raised his head. ‘Your boss! CEO of Arem Architecture and Design. UN Ambassador. A model for branded clothing lines and campaigns. An influencer, an activist, a spokesperson, one of the youngest female millionaires and still climbing the ranks.’ Kenta let out the coldest laugh. ‘Wife to Kim Namjoon, leader of the biggest boy band in the world, and she. Was held. At gunpoint!'

He was furious. But more so at the circumstances than at his team. Because there was only so much they could have done.

He already knew how things played out, what went down, but this was a formality. It needed to be done. They needed to understand that despite the stacked odds against them, it was life or death and this could never happen again. Failure in their line of work meant injury, slander or worse.

He inhaled and counted to ten before he exhaled. 'I know how capable you all are. I know how serious you are. I know most of what you’ve been through to understand that there’s a determination within each of you to carry out any task and protect to the best of your abilities. So I ask you again, what the fuck happened?’ His eyes darted to each of his members, and decided to start with the oldest. ‘Yeon?’ He prompted.

The inferno-infused male didn’t waste any time. 'I was at the back of the club, outside in the alley. Standing in as bouncer, and leaving my position, I dealt with a male being forceful with his girlfriend. I made sure he left and then got her a cab so she could get home safely. By the time I realized there was an emergency, the door was shut with y/n inside.’

Kenta nodded at the robotic explanation. No one could fault Yeon. Kenta would have broken the guy’s nose and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. None would ever raise their hand on a woman in front of him and not bear the consequence. He folded his arms again. 'Zwahn?'

The man in question licked his bottom lip, contemplating before answering. He even chanced a look to Xan before opening his mouth. Kenta could appreciate the loyalty.

'It was me.’ Xan answered for him, keeping his head down.

'What’s that?'

'It was my fault.’

Kenta narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. 'I’m sorry Xan, you’re speaking to the table, not to me.’

The younger male finally lifted his head and made eye contact. 'A fight broke out at the bar, between me and another male. I jumped him, his friends got involved and Zwahn had my back.’ Xan glowered at Kenta’s condescension. ‘Zwahn was busy with me. It was my fault,’ he clarified through clenched teeth.

Tamping down his fury, Kenta turned to Kiri and merely raised an eyebrow for her explanation when he met her gaze.

She blinked under his scrutiny and averted her gaze before answering. 'Someone got handsy with me at the bar. We were aware of him. But he was on something. He didn’t back down,’’ She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. 'I froze. Xan was defending me.’

That probably took a lot from her to admit considering she was very capable of defending herself. But freezing in the field, meant there was a war she had been fighting by herself. One she needed time for or help with, or she would lose.

Kenta would table that for later. 'Are you okay?'

A short nod, 'I am.’ Not even remotely surprised at his question.

Kenta took care of his team, whether he was angry or not.

Satisfied with her answer, he spared her. For now.

Unfortunately, work was work. She needed to talk, to take time off, to go to therapy, to be offered alternatives if there was a need, and if all else failed, she would have to leave the team behind. But that was a last resort and Kenta had no intention of losing anyone in his team. 'Tell me about Yoshi. Anything any of you know.’

'He was still on the second floor when I left’ Yeon made no move, and there was no indication of any change of tone, nothing. If Kenta didn’t know Yeon, he would think he didn’t care. But he was beating himself about this. Slightly curled lip, tense shoulders, a hauntedness in his eyes as he looked at the floor, yeah, Yeon would be going hard in the ring for the next few weeks.

'We were startled to see Yuna and the rest being rushed out of VIP3.’ Kiri spoke. 'When they spoke of Maiya and a gun, and we realized the room was locked and there was no way to get in, Yoshi was already heading to her. Vents.’

'Xan and I followed him,’ Zwahn motioned to the kid absently, 'while Kiri and Yeon stayed outside the door.’

'We thought about breaking the door, but we didn’t want to cause a scene. And you showed up not so long after. Then we actually did break the door down.’

'Yuna texted me.’ Kenta answered Yeons silent question. 'And I placed a hidden camera in the room when I scoped it out earlier.’ He hadn’t been able to keep tabs during the night. If Huru and Namjoon… no,this wasn’t about blame. He put his bachelor party behind him and listed out a set of bullet points in his brain, noting the different distractions and how well they were timed.

He thought back to the video feed on his own tablet that he checked out as soon as y/n left the club. 'When Yoshi got in, he hid, had every intention of disarming Maiya, but y/n lost her temper. Yoshi jumped in front of y/n.’ The whole scene played out in front of him, almost in slow motion when they’d busted through the door. ‘Thankfully the bullet didn’t hit any vital arteries. He’ll be fine.’

Kenta felt the need to assure them, and for good reason. He watched as relief swept across his team at the medical update. He kept it to himself until he had every facet of what happened here tonight, because guilt was a hell of an emotion to deal with.

'I have the video feed. We need to find the couple you had to deal with,’ He addressed Yeon, 'bring them in for questioning. 'He glanced at Xan, 'same for you. Sylo is back at the office. He’s going to be dealing with statements and reports. I need to go see Yoshi. Kiri I’m going to need you to –,'

'Do you think we wanted this to happen?’

He turned to Xan, hoping for the kids’ sake, he heard wrong. 'Excuse me?’

'You heard me.’ Xan stood up and faced him. 'This wasn’t our fault. And you know it. It’s not like we wished for some psycho jealous chick to aim a gun in Noona’s direction. Yoshi hyung jumped in front of the bullet, and that’s big of him, but we had actual real problems on our hands, we didn’t –,'

'Shut up.'

Kenta didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t shout. He just cut him off. The kid steamrolled through his speech and once he realized what he said, it was too late to take it back… or keep his mouth shut. Kenta could see the instant regret. He watched as Zwahn’s mouth hung open, and Kiri tugged on Xan’s arm, even Yeon arched his brow.

The kid must have thought it too late to back off, because he continued. 'She snuck in as a waitress. We can’t tell –,'

'Xan, shut up.’

'But hyung, I was defen –,’

Kenta got face to face with his youngest, most spoiled teammate and gripped his nape in an unforgiving hold.

'Be quiet!’ Kenta barked.

He dragged Xan by his neck, taking care not to inflict any more pain or brush across the taped up gash in his shoulder. Stopping next to Yeon, he let go.

'Look at Yeon.'

Xan stared at him defiantly.

Kenta grabbed his chin and turned his head toward Yeon. 'Look at him.’ It was the easiest example. 'How many years has he got on you?'

Xan swallowed hard. 'Fifteen.’

'Fifteen.’ Kenta reiterated. 'Has he given me bullshit excuses?'

Kenta’s eyes darted back and forth as he waited for Xan to answer and he couldn’t help but snarl at the lack of response. 'Has he?’

Xan shook his head.

Tugging the front of Xan’s shirt, Kenta took three steps and stopped in front of Zwahn.

'How many years does Zwahn have on you?'

'What’s this supposed to prove?'

'How many!'

Xan flinched, but answered a second later. 'Eight.’

Kenta repeated the number. 'You’re barely a year, Xan.’ Kenta let go of his shirt and pushed him backward. The shove wasn’t hard. Just enough for the kid to be reminded that he was in no position to question Kenta’s authority. 'Now, if a man, that’s eight years, okay fuck eight, let’s use fifteen, fifteen years your senior knows he fucked up and he’s keeping his mouth shut, what in the fuck, gives you the right to open yours.’

'The situation –,'

The kid needed a fucking backhand honestly.

'A ‘crazy lady’ walked in on your charge and her friends. She bypassed all of you. I’m not denying that you all had real issues to tend to tonight, but a bullet was shot, it was aimed at the person you needed to protect the most, and it’s being removed from your soon to be leader, as we speak.’ He stopped, affording some time for the gravity of his words to be felt and understood. ‘It’s a fucked up situation.’ He sputtered, wide-eyed in his discomposure. ‘There is no apology. There is no explanation. It’s done, Xan. You can’t make this shit up, and you can’t make it go away.’

Finally, fucking finally, the kid said nothing more.

Kenta knew he was crossing a line with his next words, but he couldn’t stop himself. 'What if y/n was your sister, or your mom –,'

'You don’t know my mom –,'

’… or a close friend,’ Kenta pressed, 'and they were being stalked, or hated or fucking universe forbid, attacked for being only themselves? Would it matter then?'

'It does matter, hyung.’ Xan’s voice lacked its initial level of defiance. ‘Noona does matter –’ Fuck knows when y/n gave him permission to call her that. ‘ – and I would do anything to protect her. But you’re not understanding how this played out. It’s all off. It was too perfect—almost choreographed. You need to understand.’

'No.’ Kenta wouldn’t let up. 'I don’t.’ Not tonight. Not now. 'My fiancée was in the line of fire tonight.’ He hissed. It physically pained him to admit such a thing. ‘Our charge, our detail, y/n, someone important to me, was almost shot. My teammate, my second-in-command, was actuallyshot. There is no understanding of anything.’

He turned away from his team, placed his hands on his hips and looked at the ceiling. ‘That I am being rational right now, instead of squeezing the life out of that bitch…’ He grit his teeth. Compartmentalising was particularly hard for him when Yuna was concerned.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looked back to find Kiri at his right.

'You need to take Yuna home, boss. I know we aren’t your favourites right now. But you need to assure yourself that she’s okay.’

His protest was at the tip of his tongue.

‘Kiri is right.’ Yeon pushed himself off the wall and came to stand next to him. ‘You’re still officially on leave. We’ll meet Sylo and do our reports. And we’ll check on Yoshi.’

‘I’ll check on y/n and make sure she’s home safe.’ Zwahn added.

‘She is.’ Kenta was notified as soon as two vehicles crossed the boundary of her house. Her family was with her. God, Y/n. For years he kept her safe, took care of her, and watched over her. The one day… onefucking day… Kenta swallowed hard.

He shoved off the heavy emotion and regarded his team firmly. He wanted to stand in front of them – a natural reaction. Sylo was not easy to handle. Their boss had a piercing gaze and his presence filled a room with a dangerous confidence that some mafia lacked. Sylo liked statements and face-to-face briefings because he read body language, facial reactions and read between the lines. But his team could hold their own. Sylo would never fire anyone in his team without first speaking to Kenta, because there was a heavy amount of respect involved. So that was not an issue.

In the face of their fuck up, their boss would be a bit more intimidating, but they needed to be honest and let Sylo be thorough with his report. Sylo would be the forefront for the allegations and semantics that would greet them from the studio and Lirrah’s and Kae-Lee’s managers.

Sylo would be a lot. They would have to handle it. He trusted that they could.

Kenta looked at Xan and thought back on his words. It was all too perfect. If everyone stayed in their positions, without the perfectly timed distractions, there was no guarantee that they would have caught Maiya out before she entered the VIP room. A fucking VIProom. She had Orbit’s standard uniform, somehow, a wig and a concealed firearm. Kenta couldn’t place all the blame on Xan or anyone else.

He needed to have a word with Bree about her security protocol. Concealed weapons and staff that weren’t actually staff was her problem. A pretty big one if not dealt with immediately. He would see to the matter himself, before he left for Spain.

'Give your statements. Vouch for each other.’ Kenta sighed and glanced at his team. ‘There’s a line of individuals that I’m about to piss off, but none of you get to leave this team.’

‘Xan.’ The kid didn’t flinch this time, instead he went ramrod straight, bracing himself for whatever came next. ‘You are not going to be promoted anytime soon. No solos. No stakeouts. Nothing fun. I might even throw you back into training.’ Kenta gripped his nape again and bent his head. ‘But you’re still one of mine. And you have earned the loyalty of this team for standing up for one of your own.’ He waited for Xan to meet his eyes. ’You have a long, gruelling road ahead of you. Smartass.’ Kenta looked away when the young male relaxed in his hold.

‘Kiri,’ he scanned her from head to toe, trying to gauge any physical injury she had too much pride to admit to. ‘We need to talk sometime next week. Before I leave.’

A barely perceptible nod was all he needed. He held his hand out and watched her hesitate before placing her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze. It was enough of a promise, that he would be with her through whatever happened next.

‘Yeon and Zwahn, steady,’ he looked at Yeon, ‘stable,’ he moved over to Zwahn.

‘Always, boss.’ Zwahn drawled, his dark sense of humour creeping up.

Kenta felt a bit sane, knowing this one thing was out of the way. ‘Do what you gotta do.’ He walked over to get his jacket, and pulled it on. ‘Question those individuals. Get Huru’s help if you need it.’ He handed the drive to Yeon and headed toward the door. ‘I’ll drop by the hospital on my way home.’ He called over his shoulder. Yoshi was non-negotiable. He would check on the status of his second with Yuna, and then head home.

He paused when his hand closed over the doorknob. ‘This is a first and last of its kind.’ He looked up so they could see his face and read him as clear as day. ‘You have never let me down.’ He twisted the knob and swung the door open. ‘Moving forward, let’s make sure you never do.’

He didn’t wait for an answer before walking out. He couldn’t. His world stopped when he read the text from Yuna. For work, he would agree that Lirrah, Ria, Kae-Lee would require protection. But Yuna and Y/n, his life revolved around them. He didn’t know when or for how long, but at some point, he realised he loved Y/n. As a person, as a sister, as one of his closest friends. Kenta didn’t know how to feel really, he just knew life wouldn’t be the same, that losing y/n would be like losing a part of his life – an integral part.

As for Yuna… He had never let anyone get as far as she had, reach straight into his heart and wrap around his fucking soul. His firecracker of a fiancée, did exactly that. Yuna’s fire lit up his world – any threat on her or her life, would eclipse any good part of him. He was beyond pissed but the fear of her loss clouded any functional part of him. He needed to get to her, before he did anything else.

Tomorrow he would handle the world, let himself feel the satisfaction of that bitch being put away for second-degree, at least. Then he’d find her accomplice—or mastermind. Maiya Song was not smart enough to sneak into Orbit of all places, uniform, wig, a weapon, and keep his team distracted; individuals that the public had no knowledge of being bodyguards.

Wheels turned and the friction caused sparks in his bloodstream with a million thoughts racing through his head, but he would get to the bottom of it. He had to.

Because losing Y/n meant losing Yuna and losing Yuna was as good as losing himself.

Taglist - @casnextdoor @jaysdimples @belliebelle @pinkcherrybombs @sweetjellyfishland @blushingatyou @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue @somewhereinthestarss @k-brownsugar @namsona17 @taejinxkoya @notsooperfect @zae007live @its-hopes-world @shina913 @bri-mal @piecesofapril11 @kissme-ornot @toriluvsfics@agustdmwah@lochness-butmakeitsexy @petalsofink @definetlythinkimanalien @masterpiecejoonie@gcintia@danietoww04 @roguesthetic @rjsmochii@amymikaelson@hello-kittyy@mschievous247@onlythehobi @deliciousdetectivestranger @daddypkj @callmemadhatter @rkivecenter @codeinebelle @creolesoul2seoul @nochelunaxx [open till the end of Update 25]

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Part 24.5 - Divide

~~Part 25.0 - Dissidence~~

Part 25.1 - Wildflower

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Fri, 13 May 2022 17:25:15

Nerve_26 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

-Prisoner - Raphael Lake, Aaron Levy, Daniel Ryan Murphy

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Part 25.5 - Cold-Blooded

~~Part 26 || Ascension~~

Part 27 - coming soon

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); (Not! Implied!) Smut; SMUT!;

Word Count - 7.8k

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The following update contains scenes of a sexual nature. To bypass the scenes skip through the portion between the following ’###’.

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‘You have got, to be fucking kidding me.’ Bree laughed and rested both palms in her office desk.

'It’s right in front of you,’ Kenta motioned to her monitor.

'I know that, Ken!’ She snapped.

'Hey,’ Yuna bristled, her legs stretched out in front of her on the chair across from her.

Bree sighed. 'Sorry, I’m just,’ she circled her head with her finger, 'it’s just surreal.’ Her eyes grew wide, 'it really shouldn’t be this deep,’ she clicked her tongue.

Yuna knew exactly what Bree was on about. Kenta had shown her the footage as early as 7am, despite the long night they’d all had.

He had gone to bed with her, both of them needing each other’s comfort, each other’s presence. But she wouldn’t put it past him to have waited for her to fall asleep and go off to do his own thing.

She couldn’t blame him for that either. Protecting y/n, solving mysteries, putting the puzzle pieces together, it was in his blood, in his bones. And he’d honed his skills to a phenomenal level.

So to have no answer, no end in sight from an issue that came across as a simple – a crazy lady with a gun, there was no way he had any sleep last night.

And for good reason.

Bree was losing her mind about the footage from her club last night. Kenta identified the entrance Maiya used, her route inside the club from change up, to the bar, and the two times she entered VIP3. Kenta logged the time, she had y/n cornered, her position, and tracked everything that had happened in VIP3 with his own hidden camera, that Bree didn’t have to know about, right up until Huru escorted her out later that night.

There were three major issues. Maiya had entered as a guest, and gained access as an employee. But how? When all of Bree’s employees had a bracelet with a chip that could be scanned for identification. She couldn’t have gained access to any of the back rooms, the change room, or anything else, unless she had one. And she didsport a silver bracelet in her hand when she left.

The server that was originally meant to be the waitress of VIP3 had unexpectedly called sick, that very day, and couldn’t show up for work.

But she had sent a replacement.

The third issue was that Maiya had approached the bar, the one that Kiri wasn’t attending, empty handed.

The exact same camera, facing her direction, showed her leaving the bar, with a device, and a bracelet.

'So wait,’ Bree chuckled coldly, 'You’re telling me,’ she held her fingers up, pinching her thumb and forefinger together as if trying to keep her peace from leaving her bubble, 'that the bracelet and the recording device, dropped out of thin air.’

Kenta walked toward the window of Bree’s office and looked out.

Yuna knew her fiance was ready to blow a gasket. But Bree’s incredulity was just the tipping point. He’d been tense ever since visiting Yoshi.

'Because clearly,’ Bree hit rewind on the footage for a few seconds, and turned the monitor forcefully in his direction, 'she has nothing but her phone on her. She doesn’t even have a coat. No pockets, no bag.’ Bree but her lip and lowered her tone. 'How the fuck…'

'The footage was spliced.’ Kenta shoved his hands in his pocket.

Yuna’s heart ached for him. He was beating himself up about this. But he couldn’t have known and he couldn’t have done anything even if he was there.

He was worried about Yoshi. And some part of Yuna was absolutely terrified that he was going to back out of Barcelona. It seemed like a selfish thought, but she wanted him to herself. He deserved a break.

But she also knew he was the best at what he did. He would be so double-minded about leaving. He would constantly be worried about Yoshi and his team, and y/n.

Yuna wouldn’t lie to herself either. Kenta was the best choice to keep her best friend safe.

Yuna shut her eyes tightly. Ugh. Kim Y/n.

Guilt was eating at Yuna for the way she’d treated her best friend the night before.

Her emotions had gotten the better of her.

And she felt even worse when she’d talked to Kenta that morning.

'You gonna see y/n, today?’ He asked without looking up from his tablet, coffee in hand.

'I had no plans to leave the house today.’ Yuna nursed her own mug, and read through updates on the group chat for the project.

'Yuna.'

Kenta didn't… scold her. Not the way he would scold, y/n. No, the tone he took with her was always so soft, but held a tad of reprimand, as if to say 'Yuna you know better.’

And Yuna did know better. But some things took time.

'Kenta.’ She replied, doing her best to push aside the nagging voice in the back of her head that agreed with him.

Yuna sighed when Kenta put his tablet down and crossed the kitchen toward her.

He circled his arm around her waist, and aligned her against his body.

Yuna straightened up, and though she had every intention of breaking his hold so she could think more clearly, and negate any chances of being coerced into doing anything she wasn’t ready for, her body sunk into his hold.

'I saw what happened last night,’ he whispered to her, his breath tickling her nape.

'So?’ Yuna bit back.

'You asked her,’ he dropped a tender kiss on the exposed skin on her shoulder, 'how would she feel, if she was you. But Yu, what would you do, if you were her?'

Yuna swallowed hard, doing her best to hide the breath that was knocked out of her. 'I would have given her a choice.’

Yuna gasped as Kenta bit her. Hard. 'Liar,’ he murmured against her skin.

Yuna blinked back tears. Because Kenta was right. If she was y/n, she would want y/n safe from harm. Removing her, and her safety, and any other weakness, would help her think, find a way through the situation.

Especially if she was the only one meant to be looking down the barrel of a gun.

Because collateral damage was a bigger burden to bear.

But Yuna would still be stubborn. She just needed a day. One day. Just to wallow in her self-pity before making things right. 'I’ll see her tomorrow.’

Kenta stopped with his ministrations. Yuna almost heard his jaw snap shut..

'Maiya played a recording of Namjoon and her. Of that night.’

Yuna whirled around, the shock jolting her out of her internal war. 'What the fuck?!'

Kenta nodded solemnly. 'She played it. In front of everyone.’

Ohmygod. Yuna covered her mouth with her hand. The pain and the humiliation. It was nothing short of a nightmare.

'And they were just about making things work.’ She leaned into Kenta and placed her head on his arm. 'What did y/n do?'

Kenta’s arms came around her. 'Y/n slapped her.’ Yes, y/n!

He placed a tender kiss on Yuna’s head. 'Had to hold her back from doing more.

Then I let go, which was what she was waiting for, Huru took over, then Namjoon punched him…’

'God, what the hell didn’t happen last night?’ Yuna pulled away. 'And what do you mean Namjoon punched Huru, for what exactly?'

'Well, Huru seems to have finally found someone he likes. Someone that gets past his cold robolike exterior.’

Yuna fisted her hands in his shirt. 'No.’

Kenta sighed, dropping his head. 'Yeah.’

'Are you fucking with me?’ Yuna bent her head and looked into Kenta’s face to make sure. 'Y/n? Kim Y/n? Married to Kim Namjoon, Kim Y/n?'

The situation would have been comical in any other setting.

'Holy, fuck.’ Yuna turned away and held her head. So much had happened. So much had gone down. And instead of being there for her best friend, Yuna pushed her away, giving in to a vindictive part of herself she told y/n to leave her alone, all when y/n needed her the most.

'How,’ Yuna burst into tears. 'How the fuck, does she go through these things?’ Kenta closed his arms around her again and held her to him.

'How, Ken!’ Yuna sobbed. 'She’s been through so much, so fucking much. How does she survive this? She looks at him like he’s her whole world. She’s discovered so much about herself, based on his existence, based on his work and music, and his whole… persona. How does she recover when all of that is shattered? Who does she go to?’

'We just gotta remind her she still has us, baby.’ Kenta swayed from side to side. 'She’s strong.’

'But just because a person is strong, it doesn’t mean they should be pushed until they break. It’s not fair! Fuck!’ He shook with the force of her frustration.

'Hey, hey, this is your soulmate we’re talking about, she is capable of… well anything at this point.’

'I know.’ She did know. Y/n never gave in. And she never gave up. 'I know she won’t leave him. We know she won’t.’

'So she’ll get through it.’ Kenta bent his head to nip at her lower lip. Grounding her in his own way.

'That’s going to be so hard.’ Yuna learned further into Kenta’s hold, fearing for her best friend, and what came next. 'And we’re leaving soon.’

Yuna knew y/n. She wouldn’t turn to anyone. She would confide in her husband, and her family, but none of them were Yuna, and they could never be Yuna.

'We’ll remind her that we are just a phone call away.’

Straight to the point, her fiance.

It’s not like she could deny it. She couldn’t walk away from her own project and she wouldn’t live with herself if she did. Not to mention, y/n, angry or not, would kick her ass. Literally.

That only left making amends. Yuna and y/n had to be on the same page. So y/n knew that her soulmate actually was just a phone call away.

'You always get your way.’ Yuna complained, knowing she was about to leave her house and do exactly that.

Kenta chuckled lightly. Understanding her. Knowing her. Foreseeing her next step somehow. 'Funny. I feel the same with you.’

‘Where the hell did she get someone with that type of knowledge?’ Bree paced and made gestures with her hand.

Yuna could tell, Bree wasn’t just mad about the fact that someone had bypassed all the safety measures she had in place at Orbit, but Bree seemed to be pissed on y/n’s behalf.

And Yuna couldn’t blame her. Y/n was very…dependable. It was easy to pick up the phone and dial your best friend. For a favour, a helping hand or an ear to listen.

Y/n seemed to be a human reminder that no matter what a person thought or felt, or did, and no matter what they were going through, they weren’t alone.

Yuna had her fair share of bouts of jealousy when people flocked to y/n for life advice or career advice and offered her shoulder to cry on when their hearts were broken. Yuna would be lying if she didn’t admit that she always had an insecurity about her position with y/n, but not because of y/n herself, or anything she did, but because y/n was such a better person than she was.

And she thought that many more people had better to offer y/n.

‘They had to have some sort of tech background.’ Kenta turned back to them. ‘Maybe tech, or even security… it’s very clean.’

His tone sent a shiver up Yuna’s spine. But he was right. Yuna watched Maiya approach the bar, sit down, nothing in hand except her phone as Bree stated, and a second later, her hands were full and she was leaving.

Whoever Maiya had met clearly didn’t want to be seen, but that would mean that this was deeper than it looked. Maiya was a pawn.

Almost too perfect.

Kenta had been repeating that since last night, because he’d had an inkling that Maiya was not the mastermind. The crazy lady with the gun was supposed to look like ‘a’ crazy lady with a gun.

'This puts my whole club at risk.’ Bree placed her hands on her hips and bit at her bottom lip. 'What do you recommend, Ken?'

Kenta didn’t answer immediately. And Yuna being Yuna, knowing Kenta like the back of her hand, understood that the tick at his jaw meant he was trying not to snap at Bree.

And with good reason. Bree was as much of a victim as anyone.

No one could have predicted any of what took place the night before.

'I think whoever got through your systems only did it for that specific incident. All the evidence points to it being planned. And as such, they or he or she or whatever, has no reason to do it again. As long as y/n is not in the club or her activities pertaining to Orbit are not broadcasted.’

A slow blink from Bree. 'Are you trying to tell me that this happened because it was a known thing that y/n was gonna be in my club?’

Oh no.

'It certainly made things easier.’

'I can’t believe you.’ Bree huffed a laugh. 'Y/n frequents Orbit even if she’s not sticking around to party, and you know that.’ Bree pointed to herself, lip curled up in a snarl. 'It happened in my club. MINE! My walk-ins can afford to buy me out, that’s how rich they are. And if they’re that rich, they’re thatimportant.

The safety of every woman in VIP3 last night was my responsibility and I get that! But I didn’t see this coming and neither did you! So stop trying to act like you’re the only one that gives a fuck!’

'Oh-kay!’ Yuna stood up and clapped her hands together. 'Let’s keep level heads, it’s no one’s fault. Y/n would bite your head off for insinuating it,’ Yuna side-eyed her fiancé. 'And, Bree, what you can do, is maybe invest in a new system, or even upgrade, because I can tell you’re not very satisfied with the off chance that anyone could get into your system when the mood strikes.’

'I’ll give you some recommendations if –,’ Kenta started

'Don’t bother.'

Yuna raised her eyebrows and stared Bree down until she relaxed her defensive stance.

'I mean yes, sure, you can.’ Bree finally gave in, but didn’t look back at Kenta as she addressed him. 'But it’s secondary to what you actually need to do right now. Which is to figure this shit out.’ She motioned to the monitor.

Speaking of… 'Did anyone get in contact with you to reimburse you for the damages? The vent, the stock at the bar where the team had their scuffle, and the door of VIP3, and whatever else…?'

Bree chuckled lightly. 'Yeah, in fact Ria called me to do that, on behalf of Arem and Jin did the same on behalf of the band, but Sylo already got on it by the time they called up.’

Yuna was glad. Bree wouldn’t claim on account of her being a friend. And she had the money to make up for whatever the costs were. But Y/n and Yuna always agreed on the inch spacing between business and personal life.

'Well then, if that’s out of the way, I think I’ll go and find my best friend now.’ Yuna pulled Bree in for a hug. 'I’m so sorry this happened at Orbit, Bree. I’m sorry about last night’s loss on account of’ throwing people out and shacking up in your office,’ Yuna looked up at the ceiling, '… all of this.’

'Shit happens.’ Bree pulled away and shrugged. 'I’m just honestly glad Y/n’s okay.’

Yuna thought the same.

Kenta cleared his throat just as Yuna was grabbing her bag. 'I apologise.’

Yuna almost smiled at the random apology. Kenta was like that. Once he knew the next step, and what needed to be done, rather get it out of the way.

'Noted. And ditto. I was… frustrated.'

A curt nod and Kenta was holding the door open for them to leave.

'I’ll keep you updated,’ Yuna heard him call over her shoulder.

'Appreciate it. I’ll touch base with the employee that called in sick last night, and let you know if I learn anything new.’

Yuna would have asked why the harddrive would stay in Bree’s office, but she knew her fiancé a little too well. A copy of his own would be stored away somewhere, he would have made sure of it.

———–

The Kims - the night before…

###

'Mmhhh,’ he moaned, and he leaned further into the sensations he felt.

Delicate fingers on his chest, and thighs encasing his own.

But y/n’s lips were the real reason he knew he had to be dreaming. She nipped at his jaw and left a trail of open mouthed kisses along his neck down to his shoulder.

He was helpless in need of his wife. She turned him inside out, with his love and his words and her touch.

He loved when she caressed his arms, and nipped at his lips when she kissed him, marked and played with him and peppered sweet nothings on his skin, making sure that he knew how much she loved him as he was, scars and all.

He loved being adored by her.

And it had been a long time since he was shown that kind of attention.

'Fuck,’ he bucked up into the warmth he felt between her thighs. She was open, and pliant and rubbing her core against his cock, and it was all too good to be true.

He had to be dreaming.

Some sort of double back from the events of the night and his mind’s way of providing a perverse sense of comfort.

'Joon, I need you.’

His eyes flew open and as heated as he was moments ago, he felt like he’d been doused with cold water.

It was real. His wife was on top of him, on his cock and she was fucking naked.

He panicked. 'Y/n, what are you –,'

He broke off with a groan as she scored her nails over his pecs and down to his stomach.

Fuck. It had been so long, too long.

His fingers fisted in the sheets. If he reached for her, touched her, gripped her thighs, or made any contact at all, he couldn’t trust himself, he would not be able to hold back.

'Baby, what are you doing?’ His sleep ridden voice was rough, even to his own ears.

'God you sound so sexy like that,’ she lowered her lips and kissed her way down to his navel.

'You need to move, y/n,’ he growled, 'we can’t do this.’

She stopped. Thank fuck. But only to lift her head and regard him. 'Do you not want me?'

What the fuck?

'Of course I want you,’ he replied sharply, 'but this…this-isn’t the right time.’

'But I want this.’ She dropped her gaze and trailed a finger below his navel, down to his cock.

Hell if she thought this conversation was over.

He lifted his body up, knowing full well he’d be able to carry her off him, and put some distance to get their heads screwed on straight.

She just needed a bit of space, then she would start thinking again.

She pushed him flat on his back and she rocked into him, making his cock jerk. 'I can do all the work, I want this, I want you inside me.'

It was all he could do not to grab her round ass and pull her onto his hard on – it would be so easy to find his way home.

This was such a bad idea. They’d both been through hell and back, in their lives and their marriage, and sexual deprivation at this point was an understatement.

'It’s not about the work, y/n. Fuck, baby, please you’re driving me insane.’

He couldn’t resist, as her slick entrance coated his cock and he grit his teeth, doing his best to breathe through his body’s instinct to give into what he craved.

He had to hold back. He had to. When she woke up, when she opened her eyes and her brain was less foggy, she would hate him. She would hate him for taking advantage and for giving in and not doing more to stop her. He couldn’t handle seeing that look of disappointment in y/n again.

'Touch me, Namjoon.’ She grabbed his hands and placed one at her waist and the other on her breast – it took everything in him to let it fall away.

She frowned at his hand then whispered softly, 'You want me? Right?'

A flash of pain tore through his chest. 'It’s not that simple, baby.’

'It is,’ she forced the issue. 'You think I’m beautiful,’ her pout almost did him in. 'You want me, I know you do,’ she took his length in her hand. 'This tells me everything I need to know.’

Throwing his head back at the feel of her fingers around him, after weeks of wishing and imagining and dreaming about this, he was embarrassed to admit he was so close to cumming right there in her hand as she stroked him.

'Y/n, please,’ he choked out, 'baby we need to talk about this. We aren’t ready.’

He was sure his cock was about to explode and he was losing his fucking mind.

'We’ve talked enough,’ her gruff tone doing all sorts of things to his dominant side. ‘I don’t want to talk. I want to make love with you.’

Warmth seared his blood at her words.

'I love you, y/n. And there’s nothing more that I want, then to be inside you, to claim you and remind ourselves who we belong to.’

'Then do it, make me wet, make me moan, make me cum so hard that my body shatters for you.’

His wife sounded so soft, and so lost and so vulnerable. It was all he could do not to gather her in his arms and hold her to him, to hide her from the world.

He shook his head, willing himself to be strong, not trusting himself to say the right words.

'Fine!’ The sudden coldness in her tone, had him gaining some sense of clarity. 'I’ll do it myself.’

At first he thought she meant she would touch herself. And though he’d seen it before and he would love to watch, he also knew what kind of torture it was for y/n to stroke herself to orgasm.

True to herself and her nature, y/n knew her body and how slow or how fast she needed to go to draw out her pleasure or give herself a hard and fast release. She knew her spots, how deep and the exact pressure necessary for her clit.

Namjoon was a fast learner.

Which meant that he could be doing the exact same thing to her, pleasure doubled – for her because he knew her inside out and for him, because he was the only one that did.

But his wife did him one better. True to her words from earlier, about him being hers, and only hers, she gave his cock an experimental squeeze that had him seeing stars for a second and he felt her move to position herself above him.

He blinked and when found his cock lining her soaked entrance, he had to muster whatever last bit of logic he had left to do what he did next.

'Y/n!’ He grabbed both her wrists and pulled her on top of him. 'You’ve had a fucking long night.’ He glared at her down his nose, and pushed aside the fact that her amazing breasts were flush against his chest. 'And you are not thinking straight right now. You need to stop!'

But to his surprise, her face screwed up in pain. 'I want you to touch me, Joon. I want your hands on my body,’ she whimpered. 'I want your fingers inside me and I want to feel you, all over, until there’s nothing and no one else.’ She didn’t cry, but he could tell she was at the edge. 'I need this. I need you.’

Her words reached into him and latched onto his soul, into a part of him that no one else could ever touch, could ever have access to. ‘I don’t want you to wake up and hate me, y/n.’ He cupped her cheek. ‘I don’t have that in me.’

'I’m thinking straight. I am.’ He heard her words, but he was still hesitant. 'I could never hate you. I would never.’ She whispered against his lips. 'We’ve already established as much. Whatever mistakes, whatever regrets we’ve had, you will never be one of them.’

He breathed hard. 'Y/n.’

She carefully lifted herself off his chest, and pulled him up with her. 'Please.’ All she had to do was whisper the plea, and he was mush, he was a goner – he obeyed her willingly.

Taking his hand again, she brought it to her breast, and squeezed the mound with his hand, and this time he reveled in the sensation. He loved his wife’s body. He loved when he could grip the supple flesh like he owned her, which in his mind he did. He loved showing her how much her scars and her stretch marks and any mark marring her skin wasn’t as relevant as the ones his fingers and his teeth made to mark her as his own.

He loved trailing his tongue through every nook and crevice and reveled in her whimpers and her soft sounds of satisfaction as he slowly brought her to the edge, making her lose herself in the pleasure he could give her.

By her reaction, when he pinched the hard bud between his fingers, the way she tilted her head back and left her body open to his eyes and his exploration, she would allow him to do as he pleased.

The need put him together, her trust ripped him apart and he didn’t have the strength to fight the need anymore.

Flipping her onto her back he grabbed both her wrists and held them above her head in one hand. He let her feel his strength, his body holding her in place.

He’d made some fucked up mistakes already. Broken promises that would forever change their bond and make who they were before all of this something irreparable.

But he would have to trust her.

She came to him, and asked of him, only something he could give her. And if he could help, make it better, in anyway, in any form, even if it was sex, even if some part of him knew it was a temporary fix, he would give it to her.

He reached between their bodies and used his freehand to play with the bundle of nerves between her wet folds. Her gasp was music to his ears, and he almost lost it when he slid a finger inside her to find her so ready for him. 'So warm, so wet, all for me,’ he kissed her cheek lightly when she replied with an 'only you’ and slid a second finger as she lifted her body to meet them. 'Are you sure, baby?'

He needed to ask one more time. It was a long shot, and he didn’t know how he could turn back now when his fingers were deep inside her, but he had to ask.

She kept her eyes closed as she nodded and he bent down to nip at her earlobe. 'Look at me, and give me an answer.’

Her eyes lit up with the type of ferocity he would welcome any day over the sadness and the pain. 'Yes, I’m sure,’ she lifted her head to bite at his bottom lip, 'now fuck me!'

In his head his pride struggled against its chains, and his ego sported a feral smirk.That’s his y/n.

Her demand blazed a challenge in his blood. It had been too fucking long since he’d claimed her.

He pumped his fingers and played with her just the way she liked it. Hard circular motions on her clit, and fast pumps with his fingers.

He felt her thighs quiver, and watched her face contort with a flurry of emotions.

It had been too long. For her and for him.

He hadn’t been inside her for months, the same way she had felt empty without him filling her.

She bit her lip to keep her moans at bay, but he hit her sweet spot to make sure that didn’t happen for long.

'Oh god, right there,’ She tried to struggled against his grip on her wrists but he didn’t let up. She wanted to lose herself in sensation and he would give her that.

'I love when you ride my fingers, y/n. So fucking beautiful.’ The temptation was too close and too much to bear so he bent his head and took a nipple in his mouth. She hissed and arched her body toward him as he rolled his tongue over the hardened bud and teased by grazing his teeth across the edges.

'Fuck, I’m close.’ She said as she continued to rock to meet his fingers.

He felt it, he felt her muscles contract around his fingers and just when she was about to go over the edge, he pulled out.

'What the fuck!’ She was furious enough to break off his hold.

He wanted her that way. He needed her to be angry. He needed to hear her. He needed her. He needed her so much.

Gripping her thighs, he opened her legs and positioned himself at her entrance.'You’ll come when I tell you to come.’ He ordered.

'Like hell!’ She lifted her body off the bed and raised her chin in challenge. 'I can easily get off with my own fingers if you won’t do the job, right.’

'Oh yeah,’ he kept his eyes on her and he ran his tongue across her neglected nipple, 'Then why did you come to me?’

Her mouth shut and her lips screwed up tight and her body followed his mouth when he pulled away.

He rested his body on his hands, ghosting his lips against her jaw, against her chin. 'It’s me, it’s always me. It’s always been me.’

She swallowed audibly.

'Admit it,’ he growled, as he held himself above her, making it clear that he would be inside her already if she would stop being stubborn.

This was the thrill of it. This was the intimacy and the love and the chemistry involved. A compliant y/n was not actually y/n and it wasn’t any fun.

But making her admit it, challenging her and pushing her and edging her, that got her off as well as him.

He peeked down between her open legs, her pussy called to him. The musk of her that was so uniquely y/n made him feel heady and out of sorts, but he waited it out. He would always wait for her. Because y/n would always give in, only ever to him.

His fingers circled his cock and he teased her entrance, coating the tip with her juices, knowing that the simple ministrations would drive her insane.

He knew when it happened, when she gave in. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t want to question it, nor could he describe the change. But somehow she was… softer, more… breakable.

'It’s always you.’ She met his eyes and the moment would forever remain etched in his mind. 'It’s only ever going to be you. I need you.’ She squirmed and pushed forward to meet his length, but he pushed her flat on her back, splaying his large hand over her abdomen.

Never one to just roll over and take it, y/n raised her hips to meet his cock. 'Now, please fuck me,’ her hands caressed his back and she let him feel her nails, to drive her point home, 'please let me come.'

He snarled at the slight sting. Fuck any right or any possible wrong in that moment, because he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He grabbed her ass and heard her cry out as he buried himself deep.

His forehead dropped to hers, and he stilled trying catch his breath, catching hers instead, and let her adjust to his size again.

He felt her fit so perfectly around his cock, her muscles adapting around him, squeezing him already. She was only ever made for him.

'I missed you.’ Y/n admitted, her face screwed up in a mix of pleasure and pain.

He hummed as he pulled out slowly, and slammed back in and he knew right then, that slow and easy was not gonna cut it. Not this time round. ’Fuck,there’s no way I’m going to last long.'

Her fingers found purchase in his hair, tugging lightly in exquisite pleasure-pain. 'Then you better get going.’ Her nose brushed against his.

He thrust once, twice, and then set a pace as she met his hips with her own. 'Harder,’ her own hands pulled him impossibly further into her body, 'yes, d-don’t stop!’

Her nails scored down his back and he thrust himself right to the hilt. Fuck.

His wife’s body, her plush breasts that she squeezed just the way she liked as he worked her pussy, her openness and vulnerability, it was all his. Only his.

'Oh god, yes. Oh fuck!’ His balls drew up and he knew he was almost there. But hell if he wasn’t going to take his wife with him.

He reached between their bodies again and stroked her bundle of nerves until she contracted around his cock, bringing him more pleasure than he could fathom.

'Namjoon,’ she arched up into his hand, her hips clamped down and he knew she was at that point.

'Let go for me, baby. I’m right here. I have you.’

She continued to hold onto her release, and some part of him knew it was because of instinct, because if she let go now, if she let herself feel, if she let herself shatter, there was no going back.

Sex with y/n was never just sex, would never just be sex, every aspect of her emotional spectrum was tied to it.

He knew he’d have to push her over. She clenched around his cock and he almost saw stars. Using iron grit to keep himself from cumming before she did. Combining his thrusts, and his fingers circling her clit, he bent his head and bit down on the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck.

Immediately, he felt her body give in for her and he watched as she cried out breathlessly.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her back bowed, and her arms held onto him for dear life as the force of her release clamped down on him.

The contractions around his cock were almost too much as he reared up and continued to pump in and out of her as she rode out her orgasm. And he would have held on a bit longer, somehow.

But y/n shifted, brought her lips up to his own neck, and bit down… hard.

And he snapped.

He roared and went blank with the pleasure of his own release and fell into his wife’s waiting arms.

###

———-

Present day

Namjoon awoke with a sense of warmth, a sense of stability he hadn’t had in a long time.

He’d found his wife’s naked form curled up against his body, her head on his chest, their legs tangled around each other with the blankets somewhere in between.

It was warm. It was heaven. It was everything.

He knew how he felt. The sex was the right move, because words were one thing, and promises were a step up, but the night before, with all the pain and the pressure and the rampant emotions, sex somehow… felt like that last step, that brought them together, that made it real.

But he needed to wait and see what y/n’s reaction was.

He stared at her sleeping form, watching her breath softly, and scrunch her nose and he could be kidding himself but he knew she felt safe in his arms, and he felt like there was a certain sense of peace across her features.

He didn’t have to wait long, before she slowly started to wake.

'Mmmmh,’ she opened her eyes and did a luxurious stretch, then snuggled back into him.

She rested her chin back on his chest and peeked up at him. 'Morning.’

Cute. Her voice was muffled and riddled with sleep. Her hair was tousled, bed head combined with a bit of hair pulling and lax, a contrast to the usual rigidity of her shoulders that conveyed her guards were up. To Namjoon’s eyes, she looked fucking gorgeous in this state.

'Hi,’ he offered a hesitant smile.

She frowned and lifted her head. He knew she could tell that the gears in his brain were already spinning. 'You’re worried about my reaction, aren’t you?’ She cut straight to the chase.

He gave a solemn nod.

They were well beyond the 'between the lines’ and words saying one thing and meaning another.

Instead of answering, she moved to straddle him, his hands easily closing over her thighs. And his cock twitched, but holding onto his self-control, he ignored it for the moment.

She gathered her hair and threw it over her shoulder, then placed her palms on his chest. A smile grew ever so slowly on her face and he couldn’t help but return it. Seeing Y/n happy, meant his world was somehow intact.

She giggled. 'That was actually pretty amazing.'

He had to agree.

Playing. She was playing with him. He didn’t know… how to feel about it. It was a good sign, that was for sure.

She stretched her body languidly atop his and he squeezed her thigh in a possessive hold. 'I missed you,’ she murmured, tickling the skin on his chest. She belonged in his arms. She fit so perfectly against him.

Shifting further up, she closed her eyes as her center brushed the tip of his cock. 'No regrets. I promise.’ She whispered against his lips, when she opened her eyes again.

The relief that surged through him threatened to bring him to tears. Unable to help himself, he switched their positions much like the night before, and covered her with his body. She giggled as he planted kisses on her forehead and all over her face then he stopped.

Did she think less of him, after hearing what she heard? Maybe she did and she wouldn’t admit it to protect his feelings. What if her feelings had changed at all?

Looking down at her, he berated himself, because if any of that was actually true, it would be his fault.

He wished he could turn back time. His wife, his y/n, his love, the light of his life, the song in his soul, he wished he could have done so much better by her.

‘Hey,’ she enclosed his cheeks in her palms, ‘Are you okay?’

The question surprised him. Was he that transparent? Of course he was, y/n knew better than anyone else, maybe better than he knew himself.

He still tried to play it off. 'Me? You’re the one that was held at gunpoint.'

'Humiliation,’ she started, her knowing eyes searching his face, her honest concern shining through her own, 'for someone held up in high esteem, is as close to death as one can get.'

He dropped his gaze, battling the emotions inside his body, not wanting to feel any of it. 'I deserved it.’

'No.’ Her response was resolute. 'That was taking it too far. I never asked about the details, because I thought I didn’t really want to know, that it would be too painful. But now I know why,’ she brushed her nose against his, 'it’s not fair to ask you to relive a nightmare.’

'You’re letting me off easy.’ He retorted. He ached inside. Through all the pain, through everything, she still protected him. 'Like you said, she had the ability to use it because I gave her the leverage.’

'You can’t suffer for the same thing twice.’ She ran her fingers through his hair, comforting him. 'What happened yesterday, was not you, it was not about you. You were just collateral damage. But it was damage.’ She placed a tender kiss on his jawline. 'And damage is one thing, we have to work on together. You’re never gonna be alone in anything that you do, Namjoon. Not while I’m around.’

Her words, her concern, her love… it did something to him. Y/n was the one that had been through hell the night before but here she was, checking on him. It was his stability and his strength and his solace she craved and came apart in his arms with a trust that made him want to savage any that dared hurt her, that dare try to take her away from him.

But her soft fingers held him with such a gentleness, that despite the very strength she looked for from him, his tears spilled over onto her chest.

He turned his face into her palm. ‘I’m so sorry, y/n.’ His lip quivered and much like the night before he let his wife see how much his mistake had actually cost him. 'I’m so sorry.’

———-

You held Namjoon as he fell apart and hid his head in your neck and your own tears threatened to spill over.

You weren’t completely out of your mind the night before.

Vulnerable, and raw and slightly off kilter, but you couldn’t hold back anymore.

It may have been unfair, the way you went about it, the desperation in which you asked, almost coerced your husband, but you didn’t regret it, and you could tell, he didn’t either.

Something…changed.

You had said plenty of words, made plenty of promises about being together, about staying together, but coming together again, that passion, the love, a puzzle piece clicked into place.

You had no intention of initiating sex at all. But Namjoon, with his lean, hard body, and muscular planes that all but projected a sense of safety – making love with Namjoon, was as much for him as it was for you.

Last night…

He knew exactly what to do when you gave the greenlight. He used his fingers and took control, reminded you that he knew your body and what to do to drive you into mindless pleasure, and he knew how to get you to submit to him.

In every aspect of your life you had it together, had the upper hand, even in your personal lives your husband let you lead the way, but Namjoon was in charge in the bedroom.

And you loved submitting to him.

Your pussy clenched at the memory of his fingers inside you, the pleasure, the pain, after weeks of ignoring your body’s natural response to your husband.

He stretched you, a beautiful pain that you luxuriated in and took advantage of your sweet spot as he plunged deep, only to be an asshole and stop you right there, just before you crossed the edge, causing you to almost bite his head off in frustration.

You could push Namjoon, fight him, challenge him, force his hand, but one thing he would never relent on, was his control on your pleasure. He’d made it quite clear.

There were no complaints. You knew your role, to be as y/n as you could be, and he knew his, to put you in your place, always.

You closed your eyes against the raw hunger you saw in his own eyes last night. The way he held your thighs open, his growls and groans, the shudder in his body when he finally surged inside you. His commanding voice when he declared he owned your right to cum.

You needed him between your legs, caging you in, holding you down, the wetness glistening on your thighs, the dirty, hot, sex of him plunging in and out of you. The gasps, the moans, the sounds of his flesh meeting yours, his cock brushing up against your sweet spot deep within your core, it ratcheted your need for him to a fever pitch.

The contracting of your inside muscles around him, the orgasm that ripped through your body left you limp, sated, exhausted after such a long while.

You were satisfied. And you knew why. It was an integral need in you, where your body hummed and your blood thundered when Namjoon was near you, like every cell in your body calling to him like a siren song. Sometimes all a woman needed was to rub her body over something hard, hot and male and God you loved being filled. To feel full. And last night you had, because you had only ever given that right to one man. And it would be his right for as long as you lived.

But even better than your satisfaction, was seeing Namjoon’s face tighten as he released into you and came apart in your arms. Only you were privy to that Namjoon. Only you. Unrestricted, unrestrained, Kim Namjoon.

And more so, he knew, he knew with every bone in his body and the very air he breathed, you were his, and his alone.

'I love you, Namjoon.’ You whispered when he was quiet for too long. 'I love you so much.’

You brushed away the treacherous tear that escaped your eye and went back to holding him to you.

'You are more than this mistake, much more. And we can only do better from here on out.'

He lifted his head, and his red rimmed eyes tore into you in a way no physical wound ever could. 'I don’t understand how you’re so strong.’ He shook his head. 'Last night, saving your girls, buying yourself time, and being able to get a handle on your coping mechanism, and now you’re in front of me, reassuring me, taking care of my heart,’ his voice brittle, ‘when I’m the one that broke yours.’

It was only ever yours to break.

He wrapped his arms around you and crushed you to him. 'I don’t deserve you, y/n.’

You let out a wet chuckle. 'No you don’t.’ You touched his forehead to yours. 'But you have me. You have me, Namjoon. You will always have me.’

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Part 25.5 - Cold-Blooded

~~Part 26 || Ascension~~

Part 27 -coming soon

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#bts smut #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon #bts au fanfic #bts angst #kim namjoon #bts au #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon #namjoon x yn #kim namjoon imagine #bts kim namjoon #bts aus #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #nerve au

Fri, 17 Jun 2022 18:54:21

Nerve_25.5 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Part 25.4 - Killswitch

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~~Part 25.5 - Cold-Blooded~~

Part 26 -Ascension

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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); Isolation/Panic/ (Implied) Self-Harm/ Graphic Depiction of (Implied) Self-Harm/Negativity/Anxiety/Angst/Self-Depracation;

Word Count - 9.3k

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Please note the following chapter contains a complete representation of OC’s current psyche, her mental state and the drastic measures she takes thereafter. PLEASE!! Proceed with caution as this whole update is a MAJOR trigger warning.

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The Kim’s - present time…

Silence stretched across the car, tense and taut. Your thoughts were scattered… and yet, together. Like a bunch of tiny pieces collected in a bottle. If only it was that aesthetic.

In reality it was probably like Monica’s closet in that one FRIENDS episode.

The lights, music and dancing. A gun. A gunshot. Anger. So much anger…then Yoshi. You shook your head. You didn’t want to think about Yoshi.

The visual of the trees outside the window as they whizzed by and Namjoon’s cologne, somehow kept you tethered to the present.

You couldn’t handle his presence, but still wanted him with you, near you. You needed him. You should keep him at a distance for the moment but battling that natural instinct withing you, was the least of your problems.

You were aware, but not really. It was like TV static ringing in your ears. The world was closing in, the air was too little, the space too small, the darkness surrounding you, enveloping your body, drawing you in, making you lean forward and fall into nothingness.

Your skin felt too tight, like a mannequin, immovable, emotionless, still. You were wound up, so unyielding and hermetic, so focused on keeping it together, that one wrong word, one wrong move, a specific touch would cause you to spill over

The thoughts pushed you forward, the pain held you back.

Maybe…

Maybe you could have done something different. Maybe if you didn’t get mad at her, or say your piece or maybe if you tried harder, or… something.

Would probably be the one shot right now.

Would that be any better? Probably not. But it definitely wouldn’t wrack your body with guilt, if you got shot by the bullet actually meant for you.

You tilted your head back and closed your eyes. The images behind them were blurred out and yet the damaged film reel seemed to keep spinning in your head, replaying it over and over, so you opened them again.

You couldn’t relax. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You were screwed up so tight you practically felt how ready you were to explode. But not really.

Your face was blank. And you felt more in control than ever. And you breathed easy, but you couldn’t breathe. Did that make sense? No.

Closing your eyes again, you took a deep breath in… See. Perfectly fine.

‘Wait, ah!’

Your eyes shot open as the remnants of the recording propelled itself to the forefront.

Blinking a few times in an effort to calm your heart, you wrenched your nausea and your anger and any other feeling you would not give yourself time to identify in a choke hold and shoved it down.

A laugh threatened to escape you. A classic reaction to the day and the night and events tied to it. This was so unnecessary. The whole fucking ordeal was just so absolutely un-fucking-necessary. Maiya’s face rose to the surface.

Lunatic. You would look like a lunatic if you laughed now.

No. You wouldn’t laugh. Or smile. Showing either, would make you cry.

The malice that washed over you, had you shifting your shoulders slightly. Stupid. Fucking. Bitch.

Your visceral reaction was justified. You would have done more than slap her back there.

Despite all your hatred directed to Maiya, some irrational part of you, oddly enough, was mad at the way Kenta and the team got the door down.

The timing itself was perfect.

Maiya’s induced panic because of Kenta closing in, pulling the trigger as such… but then again, she would have anyway and Yoshi would have dove in front of you regardless of the timing.

You were mad at Yoshi. You were mad at him for jumping in front of a bullet for you. So what if it was his job?

It shouldn’t have come to that!

It was drama. It was uncalled for. It was unnecessary.

'Mmmh, ah, fu –!’

You closed your eyes and held back a shudder from the fresh playback.

Was this a nightmare? If so, could you wake up? Could someone, anyone, shout or scream or do something, anything to wake you up so you could open your eyes to the sun shining from your bedroom window, and your husband next to you, still yours. Only yours.

You opened your eyes, but you could feel the thrum of your pulse, whether you imagined it or not, you didn’t care. The beat of your heart got louder and louder and you felt the internal war by means of a headache that threatened to split your skull in half.

Blinking at the fresh sounds of ‘Chicken Noodle Soup’, you notice your phone ringing in your lap. You barely have any reaction when you bring it to your ear upon seeing Kenta’s name flash across the screen.

'Yoshi’s fine.’ He cuts to the chase. ‘Bullet was extracted safely. But it was lodged into his brachial plexus. He’ll recover. It’s just gonna take some time and maybe a follow up surgery for any complications.’

'That’s good to hear.’ You sounded robotic even to your own ears. In the back of your mind you noted that Kenta was talking about the nerves in Yoshi’s arm – shoulder and spinal cord. Then it was serious and it really would take surgery to repair them. Multiple maybe. 'I’m taking full responsibility. I’ll cover medical bills and make it clear to Sylo he’s on paid leave until he makes a full recovery.’

'We have provisions for these types of things. But we appreciate it.’ He paused. 'How are you? Are you gonna be okay?'

Your lip quivered. You bit it, hard enough to draw blood, but it was enough to keep yourself at bay.

'Yeah,’ you breathed. You swallowed hard and added a clipped ‘Thanks.’

You ended the call without waiting for an answer. You couldn’t listen to his voice.

Kenta was safe. So safe. So safe that some vulnerable part of you would reach out for him, and you couldn’t have that happening. He knew your past. He knew you as Sung’s daughter, before he acknowledged Y/n Y/l/n. He’d held you through breakdowns. He’d kept you safe through any and all comers. By the sound of his voice, you could tell he knew you were in your emotional state… what else would you call this really…

Nevertheless…

You were no longer Kenta’s responsibility. And you would not be selfish or hurt Yuna anymore.

No one in the car had asked you anything. Yet. It was so quiet, they would have probably heard the other end of the conversation already.

And really, you didn’t have it in you to respond to anyone. You would have acted like you hadn’t heard. Even when they repeated themselves.

'Yuna –,'

'I can’t, y/n. I can't… it’s too much.’

'Yuna, please –,'

'Just, just, leave me alone.’

You had no reaction to the Yuna thing. Instinctively, you knew it was too painful to even analyze.

You couldn’t actually explain the logic that shielded those feelings, either. Because you didn’t even know if you wanted to fix things with her.

How? Why? She was going to leave. Her wedding was planned out already. So fulfill your duties, and let her be on her way.

Let her rip out half of your heart and take it with her. But she would be safe, better off, maybe even a bit happier.

Maybe everyone would be happier without you.

You shoved off the voices of your old self. They had no place here.

Your cheek touched the car seat, as you continued to stare out the window.

But really… would Yuna have pitied you? Would she have pushed aside her anger if she knew what exactly happened in that room? Would she have left you alone if she heard the recording or learned that it existed?

In any case, did you really even deserve her pity?

A tear cascaded down your face. Pathetic.You didn’t flinch as you felt the waft of the cold air against your cheek. You didn’t wipe it away. It was there, then it was gone.

It was water. It would dry up. Wiping it away, made it real. And right now you didn’t know what was real.

Truthfully… you wanted her to feel sorry for you, hold you together, be with you as you fell apart.

Selfish.You were selfish.Wanting to take away her right to be angry. She had every right to be upset.

Her proposal. Her sister. Her bachelorette party. God knows what other mess you’d bring to the wedding, y/n. Should you even go? Did you have a right to go anymore?

Anymore…

Were things going to change now? Yuna’s angry. She will hide it for the sake of her wedding, but for how long will she be mad? She was scheduled to leave next week. Would that cause distance? Would that give her clarity? Where she would realize she never should have chosen you in the first place, run back to her sister… And you would be alone.

Who else did you have?

Kae-Lee? Who lived halfway across the world now… practically a baby at her age. Ria? Who encased her heart in a concrete block. Lirrah? Whom you didn’t know at all, before tonight?

Look at you. Looking for a replacement because you’re all alone.

Because no one could understand.

You also didn’t want anyone to understand. Your pain was yours. You had every right to feel it.

You were confused. You were on the verge of a breakdown. You knew this. But you stood behind a pane of glass, watching the world move on the other side.

You wanted to laugh again. And you would laugh; if the numbness was any indication, it would be fucking hysterical. But if you made a sound, if you even opened your mouth, you’d be done for.

‘All you had to do was leave your husband!’

It would have been easier. This would have never happened if you left. It would have been easier if you fell out of love with him. It would have been easier to have never heard the recording.

It would have been easier if you were never cheated on in the first place.

How did you feel? Really.

No. You couldn’t answer that.

Did this put a dent on any of the progress you both had made thus far? Was this the end of you and Kim Namjoon? You didn’t know that either.

Was it an empty feeling, that also felt too full, too much, gut-wrenching and mind-numbing at the exact same time?

A part of you knew this was temporary. That in a few minutes or hours you would be able to think.That after a good night’s sleep you could take action. That come tomorrow morning you would still love Namjoon with every single fiber of your being.

But this was now. And right now, you felt. And if you could actually begin to describe what it was like under all the ice, you would admit that your heart had been completely shredded. It had been ripped out of your chest and you were staring at it bleeding out, becoming obsolete and bloodless.

You turned your head further away from any of the men in the car as another tear dropped from your eye. You didn’t want them to see your tears. You didn’t want to show yourself. You didn’t want to be seen. Again, you had no reaction to the tear whatsoever.

It never happened.

If it didn’t happen, you didn’t cry, you didn’t leak, you didn’t have a reaction, and if you didn’t do any of those things… you wouldn’t break.

You didn’t want to break.

But how. You were already broken.

———-

Pretend.

It’s okay, y/n. You can pretend. You can play pretend. You did it with mom. You did it with dad. You did it with Kwang. You did it at work. You did it for the world. You could do it in front of your boys.

You could keep a strong front. You could clench your jaw, grit your teeth and walk on your own.

Grit your teeth.

Your body felt foreign because it was working on autopilot. And that was okay. But the gnawing in your stomach and the pressure in your chest made you feel like you would keel over at any given moment.

It was okay.

You opened the door carefully and stepped out of the car. If you stayed in, one of them would have carried you and if one of them carried you…

Physical contact was a no-no. You were glass and glass would shatter.

The cobblestones felt cold, the ice on the ground somehow taking the edge off the throbbing ache in your skull. You take a shuddering breath, at the burn of the ice, as you take each step and carefully avoid eye contact.

It was okay. Pretend. Keep it together.

Taking a second, and keeping your eyes zeroed to the ground, you glance left and right, you realize seven pairs of shoes are within your radius. All seven of them had come with you.

Why?

No. If you asked questions. They would reply and it would be an opening and then… you wouldn’t know what to do or say and it would just – Shh, y/n.

You blew out a breath of air. Slowly. Shhh. You imagined some other version of you whispering the words.

Youjust – your freehand clenched at your side–you couldn’t do questions just yet. In fact, you couldn’t do questions at all.

No matter. The house was huge. They all had spare clothes. There was enough food. You just needed to get into the house and up to your room, straight through your bathroom and hide.

Then what?

'Y/n.'

No. Absolutely not. Jin could not get near you.

Shh. Shh. It’s okay, y/n. You felt yourself starting to panic. Breath.

He reached out and you took a sharp step to the side completely avoiding his hands. Then you started walking. It was okay. Pretend.

Don’t look up. Don’t look at his face. Don’t imagine the sting of rejection you would find there. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. He’ll get over it.

They can’t notice. You shouldn’t show them how this affected you. You didn’t even know how this had affected you. They just couldn’t see. They shouldn’tsee how fucked up it was how you didn’t have a plan of how to go about losing your fucking shit.

You blinked. How would you go about doing that?

What does one do when they hear a recording of their husband getting off on another woman?

How does one feel?

Do you wail? Do you scream? Do you pretend it never happened? Do you yell at him, bang your fists against his chest or deck him? Do you get a knife and commit murder or turn the knife on yourself instead? Did the embarrassment matter? Should it matter?

Maybe you should Google it.

'Y/n! Your feet!’

Nuh uh. You didn’t even flinch at his harsh tone. You walked faster.

Hoseok was a weakness. You loved him. It was that clean. That clear. That simple. That real. He was as real as Jin.

A number of voices called out to you in the background, your own thoughts too loud to allow them to break through. They picked up the pace.

Run.

But run where? Where to, y/n? You walked faster anyway, the icy burn on your feet keeping you afoot.

Yelling. You heard yelling behind you. What did they think you were going to do? Where were you going to go?

Die?

Hah. That was rich. You couldn’t do it when your dad locked you up in your room and turned everything important to you, into ash. You couldn’t do it when the only man that ever paid attention to you and made you feel seen, tried to get into your panties. You couldn’t do it then. You wouldn’t do it now.

But how you feel now… you might as well be dead.

'Y/n. You’re bleeding.'

No.Fuck.

‘Noona!’

You felt the wetness. Probably nicked it on something under the ice.

‘Y/n, sweetheart –,’

Aware that they were a few steps behind, you punched in your code to the door, muscle memory not failing you for once, you opened and slammed it shut in one go. ‘Y/n!’

You stared at the door. That was stupid.

They all had codes to this house. This was their leader’s home.

‘Baby!’ Namjoon called, much like the day he confessed and you slammed the door in his face.

You shoved your fist in front of your mouth to keep from crying out. Think.

Think. Think. Think, y/n! For how long would you run from this? They were at your house, there were seven of them, and none of them would rest without knowing you were okay. You knew this. Then why? They were running after you, why? You were running away from them, why?

This was your family. You didn’t do anything wrong. Some of these boys had seen the worst parts of you. Here you were allowedto have a reaction. But something in you refused to comprehend the logic.

You needed to think. But there were so many thoughts. You needed to breathe like your chest wasn’t hurting. You needed to stop thinking about Yuna and if she was gone. She would still be there for you tomorrow. Namjoon was yours. Namjoon was still yours. You chose to move past this. You couldn’t lose your mind right now. You had control. You knew this. You had to listen. You had to understand. You whimpered as you stepped over your threshold and walked into your house.

It was everywhere. You turned your head from left to right. Haphazardly searching your open lounge… for something. It was in your mouth and clutching at your chest and holding your body captive and you were running out of time. Whatever was happening it felt like the walls were closing in and you didn’t know what to and what to feel and you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t go to Namjoon and you didn’t know what to do and you couldn’t breathe!

A light caught your eye. You looked to your left through your lounge window, a light catching your eye. The pool house…

Your chest heaved and for a moment, a passing flicker, you acknowledged an old habit of yours. You blinked and flexed your toes. The ice at your feet. You looked down at the cuts.

You closed your eyes and stretched your toes, feeling pain.

The pool. You made up your mind.

The door opened. 'Y/n.’

It was too much. He was too much. Namjoon and his scent. Namjoon and his dimpled smile. Namjoon and his voice. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to yell and howl and act like the maniacal bitch you knew yourself to be capable of.

You also wanted to walk straight into his arms, into the place you considered your home and hide. You wanted to kiss him, hold onto him. You wanted to stay there and forget about everything.

And then there was no more thought as you made a break for it.

But he was bigger, taller, faster, he grabbed your hand and the rejection was so malevolent you had no choice but to turn around to swing at him. Your fist never made contact. It stopped a hair’s breadth away from his cheek. You breathed hard. You shivered at the intensity in Namjoon’s eyes as it already had an effect. Namjoon loved you.

What the fuck did you do with that information. You probably looked murderous. Enraged. Crazy.

Eyes wide you breath hard and notice the men behind him catching up. And Namjoon’s face. The trickle of blood on his lip. The agony shone in his eyes.

His fear. His bone-chilling fear that you would leave. His face desperate, almost begging. For what? What could you give him? Another blowjob? A frantic laugh rang off in your head.

What else could you do? What other move could you make when your husband looked at you like you would disappear at any given moment.

You could apologize.

You could call this a reflex reaction.

You could make an excuse.

You could pretend.

You could go about your night and the next day and be okay.

You could pretend.

You couldn’t pretend.

You felt your face crumple, so you walked backward. One step, and another and did another clean break.

More yelling as you pushed your way through the opening to the pool house, Jin had used a couple days prior.

You saw the endless blue under the moonlight.

You smiled.Gümüşservi. Turkish. The reflection of the moon on a body of water. Pretty. Pretty and cold.

You dropped everything, the phone, the shoes, your coat from your shoulders and before you thought logically about what you were about to do, or before you started to really wonder if it would work, and before you lost your Nerve – you jumped.

You blank out. Darkness as you kept your eyes closed. No more breathing, now for an actual reason.

Like pushing the off button on the computer, your body did a reboot. Your visceral reaction to the cold water is wrenched from your control as your body pushes back up.

‘Huuuh!’ You gasp for air as you break through the surface. It’s not cold, it’s not crisp. It’s fucking glacial.

In defense of the fundamental right your body had to keep you alive, you didn’t actually want to die. Your pool wasn’t that deep and you swam for therapy. Death by drowning was a long shot.

A deep inhalation and multiple smaller ones, kept you present, as your body tried to process the shock. Your dress pulled you down, the weight of the water drowning you with it. Inhale. Exhale.Inhale. Exhale. You weren’t controlling it. You didn’t need to. Your breathing was an automatic response for you to stay alive. You wouldn’t die. Your body didn’t want you to die. It wanted you to somehow adapt. It wanted you to survive.

There’s nothing but the frigid cold, the ice, the tight expansion of your chest doing its best to adapt to the new life-threatening environment.

The cold shocks your muscles and your teeth all but bite off your tongue as you bend your knees to sink your body again.

You brush the hair off your face and push it back. For a moment it’s all white noise, you see nothing, you hear nothing, you acknowledge nothing.

There are the thoughts.

There is the pain.

Then there’s screaming.

———-

You’re the one screaming.

You didn’t know you started, until you did. Once you did, you couldn’t stop.

It all crumbles. The walls. The guards. The protection. The pretending. It all falls apart as agony spreads through your chest. It was numb. It was so numb and tight like a noose squeezing your neck until all you would see was nothingness, but now it burned, blinding pain that broke you in half.

No. Wait. That was just your heart.

Hatred that she could pull such a stunt, do such a thing. Guilt that Yoshi was hurt. Guilt that Yuna’s night had been ruined after such a bad day. Rejection that she pushed you away. Betrayal that Namjoon was on that recording. Incredulity that she would have the fucking audacity to record it. Jealousy that she had what was yours. Possessiveness, pathetic possessiveness of the man that you loved that you wanted all to yourself. But you were not enough. You were not fucking good enough.

You grab your hair, to instinctively keep it together. The twinge of pain at your roots, helping some, but not enough.

You scream as the sob tears through your chest and when you have to breathe, your hands grab fistfuls of your hair to anchor you.

Your brain works in tandem as it rips open your past and remember your dad and feel a wave of disappointment of what could have been.

You pull back and inhale only for it to start all over again, this time as sniveling, mewling sounds leave your chest as you cry for all your life was worth.

It was always something. A layer and another and another. It’s your best friend and her anger and her loss of her sister and the loss of what could have been. If only.

It hurts and your nails dig into your hair and you cover your eyes and you want to stop but youcan’t.

Namjoon…

You can’t handle it. You can’t be strong. You can’t keep it together. You burst at the seams and it all twists inside you, angry and wanting attention and it’s all over.

It rips you apart, you feel like you’re in pieces. You’re about to collapse you’re about to die you’re okay with that and being done with all of this if you never have to feel like this again

You bawl until your throat is raw, until you’re heaving until your tears are dry even though you’re in the middle of a body of water.

It’s freezing cold. Closing your eyes, you focused your breathing in between the hiccuping and the whimpering that escapes you. Feeling the chill against your skin, of the heaviness of your dress. Your teeth chatter and your body shivers, as you experience the physical effects of feeling alive. F-focus.Your breaths came easy, now. On account of the crying. Focus on the cold.

You feel alive. Great.

Hypothermic.Maybe.Squeezing in your chest, from the extreme body temperature. All your focus was on the water.

The burn is excruciating and your fingers are white when you drop them from your hair. Everything hurts. The mental aspect hammers into your skull and the physical effects were fucked up enough for you to regret jumping in.

Then a pair of hands circle your wrists.

'Noona, please.’

'No!’ You wrenched your hands away from him. You had no intention of being that violent, or that hurtful. It just happened. You also knew you only broke free because he didn’t expect you to protest. 'I ha–ave, to be in, h-here,’ you shivered.

Jungkook. Jungkook could have your whole heart, and your soul and anything in the world he wanted because he was just that important. The fact that he was in the pool with you, in the freezing cold, said enough.

But you had to go through this. You had to stay a little longer.

He grabbed you again. Your upper arms and you struggled as much as you could.

'You’re going to get sick! Please.’ You closed your eyes and turned as far away as you could as the youngest pleaded with you, his words, his tone, cutting straight through you.

He didn’t understand and you couldn’t explain.

An instant later you felt another pair of arms on you.

You look up, ready to fight, argue, be a bitch so that they leave you alone, so you don’t close up.

But you realize all too quickly you can’t do a damnthing.

Here, in the pool with you, in the freezing cold water, in the middle of snowy winter, designer suit and all, was the one person you could never fight.

Yoongi.

Cold eyes, a contrast to his gentle but firm fingers. ‘You wouldn’t fight me,’ a deep inhale, the water cold and unforgivable, ‘would you Y/n-ah?’

You sniffle, halfheartedly pulling your hands away, tears still leaking out at random.

‘Come here.’ He drags you forward into his chest. He encloses you in his arms, before you have any time to protest.

You had never broken down in front of Yoongi before. You never wanted to give him a reason to not accept you in the family. You didn’t want to be seen as less. But his arms around you were firm and he gathered you in a tight hold. He pecks your hair and that simple action was your undoing as you closed your eyes and sunk into his hold.

'Go, Kook.’

'But –,'

'She’ll listen.’ A brush of his hands on your wet hair. 'I promise.’

You heard Jungkook make his way out of the pool, wading through the water.

'Get to the edge,’ Yoongi instructed him. ‘Yeah. Help him up, Tae.’

Feeling embarrassed, a little too lost, a lot confused, you pull away as Yoongi is distracted, but he seemed stronger than he looked, because you couldn’t budge.

'Shh, y/n.’ Your eyes darted from side to side as your forehead rested against his chest. 'I won’t let go. We won’t let go. We’re here for you.’’

You let out an involuntary whimper.

Because inside you, deep inside, where even you would never attempt to dive, you wanted help. You wanted your stubbornness pushed aside, you wanted to be fought for, you wanted to be held. You wanted to be put back together and held so tight that the pieces were no longer tiny shards with sharp edges, rather something less fatal to anyone else and less unfortunate to yourself.

You clutch his arms tight. And he holds you impossibly close as the rest of your tears flow freely onto his shirt…your makeup running and staining the immaculate, white material.

He didn’t seem to care.

You both stay there for a while, as your small sounds die down again and you get a hold of yourself. In reality it was just a minute, or so, before he broke the silence.

'I need you to come out of the pool with me,’ he whispers into your hair.

You shook your head immediately.

'You’re going to get sick.’ His soft tone turned harsh. ‘You have to change. You have to get dry and warm up and you have to survive.'

Still you didn’t budge.

'I know you find comfort in water. I know you find yourself here. And you have. You know you have. And now you have to deal with it the only way you can.

But you have to get out of the pool with me. Jin hyung needs to check on you, y/n. Hobi needs to see you. All of us. We need to…’ he broke off and inhaled. 'We just watched you go through hell and back, y/n. Please…come back to us.’

It was the 'please’. It was a whole lot more. But it was the 'please’ that did you in.

You pull away and give a slight nod. He takes advantage of the moment.

You’re being waded through the water to the nearest edge and hauled up by another pair of arms. You immediately start shivering again as you sat at the edge. Yoongi pushed himself up by his forearms and took a seat next to you. He was stronger than he looked. Jimin too, who threw his jacket over your arms.

They didn’t speak, but you would brace yourself for anything. Only crazy people did what you just did. It didn’t matter that it made sense to you.

You couldn’t go through the… phase, again. You did it twice. Twice was enough. You were not okay. You weren’t thinking. But there were better ways to deal than closing up.

‘That dress is Prada y/n.’

You lifted your gaze, looking directly across the pool to find Taehyung squatting down at the edge, his fingers brushing the top of the water.

He didn’t smile at his statement, but you could see why, the concern in his gaze was too evident. Nevertheless he was trying to help you find your footing.

‘I’ll take you with me when I buy a new one.’ Your teeth chattered and your throat hurt and you hated how small you sounded.

Jimin curled his arm around your waist and leaned his chin on your shoulder.

You sniffled. Feeling cold, icky and uncomfortable. But if you stood up, you would have to tackle the world.

‘I know I should say something nice,’ Yoongi started, unbuttoning his shirt and ripping it off before throwing his own dry coat over the cotton long-sleeve shirt underneath, ‘I should be telling you it’s all going to be okay. I should berate my ass of a dongsaeng,’ he motioned his head to the doorway, but you didn’t look, not yet, ‘I should express how sorry I am, but I know you and I also know the only thing I need to tell you, is what you need to use to put your world back on its axis.’

You didn’t make a snide remark about how you didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for you or that this was the most he ever said to you face-to-face. ‘Tell me,’ you grated. Your throat was hoarse, scratchy and it burned.

‘It already happened.’ He faced you. That was very Yoongi. Never hiding, always honest, unwavering in his support. ‘All of it…has already happened.’

Your lip quivered. ‘It feels… more real… this time.’

‘It was already real before,’ Yoongi reminded softly.

You said nothing for a solid minute. You didn’t cry, didn’t argue, just, nothing.

The lights were on in the pool house now, one of them must have switched it on. You stared at your pool. The lights on the water reflecting off the bottom in wavelike, incandescent patterns. Science said the triggered response in the brain induced relaxation through blood flow.

Made sense. Maybe that’s why you could breathe easier and why your body sagged against Jimin’s form and you felt Yoongi’s strength like a buoy.

He was right. You closed your eyes and thought about every moment you could manage to remember after Namjoon confessed.

You accepted his apology. Acknowledged that he had the balls to confess upfront. He dealt with every single one of the consequences–from you, his brothers…he never wavered.. You gave him an out, battled your own feelings, invested in prospects. You made him angry, iced him out, pushed him away, you all but shoved him towards better options, to be happy to choose a different path and you did your best to show him a life without you but he was unyielding..

He played his own game instead.

This pool was yours. This pool house was your design. But you already knew you weren’t filing for divorce. This wasn’t the last time you would see those waves reflecting off the light.

You lifted your hand and turned your head toward Jimin, caressing the side of his face, then pecking him innocently.

You turned to Yoongi… and did nothing, because Yoongi was uncharted territory.

He tilted his head to the side, a sad smile adorning his features. ‘It’s a good thing your neighbors are pretty far away,’ his finger tugged at a wet strand of hair.

Jin was physical contact, hugs and cuddles and Hoseok was banter, communication. What did you say to Min Yoongi?

You were beyond grateful. But this made you look, well, absolutely fucked up.

You were uncertain, unworthy, probably batshit crazy.

A breakdown was a breakdown. This was a mental collapse. Induced, sure, but a collapse nonetheless.

Yoongi placed his forefinger under your chin so you would meet his eyes. He frowned. ‘Humanness is heavy, isn’t it,’ You nodded your head as tears welled up in your eyes again, as he continued. ‘If I met the man that said those words, Rilke, I’d tell him of a Kim Y/n and how she carried it so well.’

He squinted as if visually attaining something in the distance. ‘Think of this as putting it down for a bit. Hmm?’

You felt a renewed ache in your chest. A beautiful one. There was nothing you could say, so you let him see your heart in your eyes. Thank you.

He eviscerated your fear that he would think you out of your goddamn mind and chalked the better part of everything that happened and your reaction to beinghuman.

No one would be able to fathom what Yoongi’s words did for you that day, nor the love you felt as you looked around the room.

Jimin at your back. Tae and a shirtless Jungkook in your eye line, your admitted favorites, Jin and Hoseok, holding back the man in the middle of it so that he didn’t make things worse.

But this wasn’t the worst. This was already a wound, scabbed over – was scraped raw, but it wasn’t new.

And there was no way, you could not learn from this. There was no way you would not see past this, to see it for what it truly was.

You moved to stand up, bringing Yoongi and Jimin with you. You nodded at Jimin when asked if you were okay to walk. Your legs were shaky, your body was cold and you were absolutely pissed, but you could walk.

‘Y/n.’ You inclined your head in Yoongi’s direction to indicate you were listening. ‘You can’t lose our respect. Ever.’ You turned to face him fully, wondering how he read your mind and how he could assure you, when you were as capable of making a mistake as the next person. ‘Kim Namjoon bows to no one. Remember that.’

You took a second to understand.

But he had. Namjoon put his head down and leaned against you at the office the day Ji-ho visited. He didn’t bow, this wasn’t medieval times where a King would bow to his Queen by genuflecting. But a leader, someone seen as the most powerful, the one looked up to and sought after, for him to tip and incline his head in the direction of an individual, it was a sign of respect.

And he did not just tip his head. Kim Namjoon had been inclining his head for years. To listen to you talk, to kiss you, to reach you, to ask for you, to hold onto you.

Yoongi said the words so quietly, yet they bulldozed any illusion of insecurity you had leftover.

Making your way to the rest of the guys, you rubbed at your eyes and your dress, still wet and heavy, dripped down with the weight of the water.

‘Chin up, love. You have nothing to apologize for.’ You blew out a breath and looked up. You relished in the courage Jimin instilled in you with his words, another layer of strength added to Yoongi’s. And it helped you stand firm when Jin and Hoseok met each other’s eyes apprehensively. You didn’t stop, not even when Namjoon’s face betrayed his emotions. Fear, confusion, anxiety, all very much notNamjoon.

But you would save him for last.

Waiting until Taehyung and Jungkook joined the rest of you, Jungkook using Taehyung’s hoodie, you hugged yourself to him without warning.

'I’m sorry, Kook.’

His tense body relaxed after a moment, and he brought his arms around you. 'You said you would give me anything I asked for.’

You could practically hear the pout in his voice.

'Forgive me, this once, just this once.’ You would never let it happen again. Not this way at least. 'I will still give you anything you ever ask for.’

'Then promise.’

You pull away to look up at him in confusion.

'Promise me you’ll be okay.’ He looked so sad, but so determined. Who were you to ever say no to Jeon Jungkook?

You wet your lips. Refusing to cry anymore. Astounded that you even had anything left. His eyes never left you, as he watched and waited for an answer.

'I promise,’ you replied firmly.

Only then did he nod and let go of you.

Turning around, you brushed your hand over Taehyung’s shoulder, a small acknowledgement, and you watched his shoulders go lax as you passed by him.

Stopping in front of your next victim, you blinked back more tears when he refused to meet your eyes. Lifting your hand up, you caressed the side of his worldwide handsome cheek. He brought his hand up to close around your wrist, but he didn’t push you away.

'Jinnie,’ you prompted. 'I’m sorry.’

'You have nothing to be sorry for.’ He still didn’t meet your eye.

Digging deep, you bared your heart out. 'I shouldn’t have pushed you away.’

He did look up then. And he was so mad at you. 'Will you ever do it again?'

You wouldn’t make promises you couldn’t keep. These men were too important for that. 'I’ll try not to.’

He sighed and pulled you into his arms. 'You don’t know how much we love you, y/n. We need you.’

Emotions were raw and rampant and made you feel so vulnerable. Enough to admit the same. 'I need you too.’

Looking past Jin’s shoulder you caught Hobi’s eye.

He tilted his head to the side and gave you a smile.

Breaking out of Jin’s arms, you all but hopped into Hobi’s. Stupid, frustrating man. Loving you so hard. Loving you so much. Always being a comfort.

He picked you up off the floor with his tight hug and whispered to you, 'Don’t ever scare me like that again. Don’t ever make me think that you’re ever going to do anything drastic. My heart couldn’t bear it.’

My heart couldn’t bear losing you.

The words were left unsaid, but you understood Hobi – he was yours.

What did you say? What do you reply? How do you not adore the man that Jung Hoseok was when he had put you first at every turn. Even now, when he should be mad at you, he was being… Hobi. Always so Hobi. 'I won’t.’

Putting you back on your feet, he brushed your damp hair back, and leaned down to take a good look at you. 'Okay?’ He searched your face.

You wouldn’t lie. You nodded and croaked, 'I’m working on it.’

Seemingly satisfied, he gently tugged at your hand and handed you off to the last man you had to square books with.

Stopping in front of your husband, you held your head up high and held his gaze, searching… for what you didn’t know, but when he gulped audibly and his nostrils flared, you found determination and you knew right then, he would take whatever you gave him, whatever it was, a punch, a slap, a low blow, he would take it.

You decided to be the loser in this staring game.

Crossing your arms, you leaned into logic. ‘Namjoon,’ you sighed, his name rolling off your tongue like a caress, ‘what was that back there?’

He blinked in confusion ‘Huh?’

‘What was that?’ You schooled your expression, and held your chin high. ‘Back at the club?’ You prompted with the logic that finally seemed to be switching gears in your brain, somehow balancing your emotional response and giving you a semblance of control to work with. ‘Maiya?’ You waited, focusing solely on your husband. ‘Come on, Joon. You’re smart. Call a spade a spade.’

He swallowed audibly. ‘A recording.’ He made it sound like a question, unsure if he gave the right answer.

You could understand his apprehension. Namjoon wasn’t used to being the object of scrutiny. And he had his own fears and trauma during this whole ordeal – the biggest one was about you leaving him, about losing you.

‘Exactly.’ You will yourself to be strong as you let this play out. You weren’t hiding your emotions, merely, reining them in. At least you were feeling them. ‘Why play the recording, why now?’

He knew why. You decided to say it anyway. ‘That was an ace, Namjoon.’ You clenched your jaw and set your lips in a firm line. ‘And I will be damnedif I lose this hand.’

Whatever was going through that bitch’s head, you were honestly so fucking over it.

Because she had his attention, then his cock, she took the money, caused a PR nightmare, traumatized what little friends you had, aimed a gun at you and actually shot one of your security team members and then had the audacity to play a fucking recording of him shooting his load in her mouth.

She’s pushed her luck too far this time.. And now, you were going to ruin her.

You would not make Namjoon suffer any longer for a mistake that you had already buried. She made the active choice to dig up that dead body and hold up whatever decaying remains up to your face – just to lord it over you. But there was nothing else that could be done about it. It was a desperate move on her end – and it was clear as day.

Really. The body was dead, soil turned over, a hole in the ground, a fucking mess, but it was still dead.

You leaned forward and cupped his cheek. ‘At first I thought I didn’t deserve you, Namjoon.’ You would admit that to yourself. ‘That I didn’t deserve this life with you and this family.’ You looked around at the faces of the names that had long etched its way into your heart. ‘But you know what I truly don’t deserve,’ your fingers gripped his nape, ‘it’s this shit!’

‘Thisbitch,’ you spat, ‘has been milking this whole situation, because yougave her the leverage to do it.’

‘I have had my hair pulled on live television,’ you growled, ‘I’ve been disrespected by reporters, I’ve been told I’m no match for you, I’ve been held at gunpoint, I’ve been embarrassed in front of the only people I actually care about respecting me and today I upset the one person that always gives me the benefit of the doubt.’ A stab of pain at the issue that was Yuna, that you would have to revisit tomorrow.

You pulled his forehead down to meet yours. ‘Baby,’ you whispered, ‘I’m not telling you this to blame you. I’m telling you this because I’m standing in front of you in spite of it.’ You took a deep breath, and let him see you, every part of you. ‘I am your wife. I am KimfuckingYn. And this family is mine. This life is mine. Whatever I’ve built for myself within this family, it’s mine to keep and to hold close to me. And you, Namjoon,’ you grazed your lips lightly against his, felt the tension leave his body, ‘Kim Namjoon, you are mine.’

‘I will be loved.’ You pulled away. ‘I will be shown off. I will be protected and respected. And we will get through this with our family.’ You placed as much venom as you could behind your next words, because it would be your last warning. ‘But don’t you ever, and I mean everfucking do this to me – again. Or, there will be no ‘we’.’ You scrunch your nose. ‘The back and forth and the push and pull and the will you leave or not. No.’

You shook your head. ‘No.’

‘No.’ You repeated.

You felt your forehead crease and your lip quiver and he crushed you to him when you launched yourself into his arms. ‘NO!’

‘Never again, y/n.’ His words were fierce. His hand in your hair is brutal and his arms around you, possessive. This was your hiding place, your secret keeper, your grounding when you were off-kilter, your smile when you were sad, your heart outside your body – your moon in the darkness of the night sky. ‘I promise.’

The relief seeped into you. You could already feel it.

It was distinct, something that had no word and no proper comparison.

Stepping into a warm house from a cold stormy day, pulling your blanket over you with a summer breeze wafting through the window, the sun’s rays cascading over your features, the heat spreading through your fingers from. Holding a warm mug, the relief of a hot water bottle against your tummy on the first day of your period…

Relief. Stark relief.

You needed that. The shock. You needed the restart. You needed perspective.

‘Fucking recording. That bitch.’ You spoke into his shoulder, breaking the thick, tension-filled atmosphere with your rage.

‘The fucking audacity.’ Namjoon shook his head.

You huffed a laugh, wanting to point it out first in condescension, now in comfort. ‘Didn’t sound like you had a good time at all.’

He pulled back. He looked uncomfortable talking about it so soon, but he braved it. ‘I’m sorry that you had to hear that.’

You regarded him for a moment, looked over at Jin who sagged against Hoseok, and went back to your husband. ‘Does she give better head than me?’

Taehyung snorted from somewhere next to you which pushed Jimin into a fit of giggles.

Namjoon’s eyes widened comically. ‘Wh, uhm, – what does that have to do with anything?’

You raised your eyebrow. ‘Well?’

You could have relented, but it was a bit fun to do this.

‘No.’ He answered. Then did himself one better. ‘You,’ he cupped your cheek, ‘Your mouth – is the best I’ve ever had.’

Good. You nodded, seemingly satisfied. ‘That makes me feel better.’

‘Well,’ Hoseok rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets, ‘this is not uncomfortable, at all.’

Jin snorted and turned his head away, knowing full well where and from who that question originated from.

You looked over at your family. Jin leaned on Hoseok, both of them relieved. Jungkook rested his shoulder on Yoongi, who stood next to Jimin and Taehyung, all of them reassured.

This was your family. And you had to believe they would not think less of you, probably never did. They stood by you today, even the most unexpected of individuals reached to grab you up, from the cliff you were dangling over.

This was so fucked up. This night and everything that came with it. But you would deal with it, one at a time, with your family by your side.

Starting with one of the most obvious ones.

You shook your head when you found your jacket and shoes and your phone next to it, screen cracked.

‘Fuck, I need therapy.’

———-

Namjoon watched as Taehyung carted his wife out, muttering something along the lines of her dress being unsalvageable. It was something normal and his dongsaengs were doing their best to be normal after watching her breakdown the way she had.

He wanted to jump in after her, but Jin somehow got through to him, reminding him that he was the last person she wanted to see while she went through her breakdown. Any other day, he would disagree. But not in this instance.

He felt almost lightheaded. Mostly because he was high on y/n’s words. She was not kidding. She had every intention of taking all her power back, the right way and she would pick up the broken pieces of herself along the way. He believed she would. He believed in y/n.

A hand clapped him on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts.

‘I don’t have to make a comment about how lucky you are, do I?’ Hoseok asked, as he watched Taehyung and Jimin argue with y/n to keep her expensive coat on, a one-of-a-kind, made by Celine, which Namjoon bought for her, at the soulmate’s strong recommendation.. Jungkook trailed behind, joining in but keeping a close eye on his Noona.

Namjoon licked his bottom lip. ‘No. You don’t.’ He closed his eyes and exhaled. ‘I don’t deserve her.’

‘Damn right, you don’t.’ Hoseok wasted no time. ‘But she just cannot get rid of you.’ Hoseok huffed and shook his head, a knowing smile gracing his face. ‘The same way, you would never be able to free yourself from her.’

Namjoon pounces at the cue, Hoseok proving time and again how well he knew Namjoon, how much of a best friend he truly was by giving him an intricate stream of words and thoughts to dwell on and distract and comfort. ‘To be free, you must be caged.’ And y/n was a gateway to endless possibilities in every aspect of his life.

He understood what Hoseok was implying, though. Y/n’s existence was ingrained in his soul. Y/n was that human, his person, and he was the one she would always adore. It was the biggest string of purpose tying them together, it held strong and faltered, not even once. She was made for him and him for her.

‘Don’t take this for granted, Joon-ah.’ His eldest hyung straightened up at Hoseok’s side. I do not ever want to see her like that again.’

Namjoon nodded, acknowledging his hyung’s unsaid words and the implication behind them. He would have no place with them, that was for sure. He would not be given a second chance.

That didn’t phase him. He had no intention of ever making such a mistake again. He still had so much more to do to fix this up and fix his marriage and help y/n fix herself. If she trusted him enough to allow that.

‘What’s the plan?’ Yoongi stood next to them, effectively completing the hyung line, standing in unassailable solidarity. ‘She can’t just rot in jail.’

No she could not. ‘Warrant for an apartment search.’ Namjoon’s mind started working. ’Find any of her pictures, copies of recordings, surveillance footage, if there is any.’ The thought made him sick to his stomach, but after the night they’d had, he couldn’t put it past her to have made one. And he would not take the chance of y/n ever seeing or hearing any of it ever again.

‘Charges?’ Hoseok took off his own coat and slung it over his shoulder.

‘Unlawful detention, possession of an unlicensed firearm, concealing a weapon.’ Jin rattled off a list he seemed to have already formed in his head as he folded up his sleeves.

‘Planning and premeditation of murder.’ Yoongi added.

‘She’ll rot.’ Hoseok quipped. ‘A few years at least.’

‘And if she gets out, ever, we rip the money she doesn’t have out of her.’

Namjoon would have cringed once upon a time at Yoongi’s blunt way of words. But he could not bring himself to feel sorry for her. It was not about the money. It was about the message.

Hearing that recording may have been one of the worst things in his life and one of the sickest plays he had ever come across, but it helped him realize how much he did love y/n.

From the get go he made no excuses to anyone else and he would not forgive himself. But he tried to stop her. God knows what actually went down and how he got from the bar to the car and back and made his way home, but he didn’t go willingly. He didn’t want to cheat on his wife. He never intended to.

And he may never excuse himself, it didn’t make any of it better, but he was better off than most cheaters – he had a fighting chance.

‘You’re both gonna make it, Joon. You’re both going to be okay,’ Hoseok threaded his fingers through Namjoons hair at the nape of his neck in comfort. That did it. Namjoon dropped on one knee, placed a palm flat on the floor and let his tears flow freely for the first time that night.

Jin’s statement was resolute as he came down on his haunches to be there for him. ‘We’ll make sure of it.’

Sometimes, it wasn’t the cosmos or the stars and the idea of faith that kept one going. Sometimes it was ordinary men, doing extraordinary things, feeling and forgiving and fighting without limitations, with only love, only family, only their brotherhood in mind.

The hyung line tethered one end, the maknae line stabilized the other and Namjoon knew, as he broke down, as he leaned on his hyungs for strength, he would never want to know what his life would be like, without his band, without his family, without Kim Y/n.

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Part 25.4 - Killswitch

~~Part 25.5 - Cold-Blooded~~

Part 26 - Ascension

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