#namjoon x you

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double dare, m | ksj, knj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader x namjoon
also yoongi x reader, implied ot7 x reader

summary:Kim Seokjin calls to issue a challenge. A (double) dare, if you will. He says you can’t take two dicks at once. Kim Namjoon, his roommate, argues that you can. Well, you never back down from a dare, especially when it involves Seokjin and Namjoon.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, low-key horny crack + chaotic energy; smut (fem reader, doggy, threesome, slight D/s dynamics, mild restraint, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, double penetration); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader, focusing on Seokjin and Namjoon in this one :D (coughwith some Yoongi)

journey (to the dick)’ au aka you as the main character in harem hentai and BTS is your (horny af) harem

“Yah!”

Smack!

“What? Ah, f-fuck!”

“I need you to get over here. There is a particular matter that needs to be discussed,” came the very serious, no-nonsense tone from your phone, speaking rather sternly for someone who called you three times in a row and forced you to answer in the middle of your, ahem, dick appointment.

You were holding the phone in one hand and your other was on the bed, fingers clutching the sheets, jerked forward periodically with firm, hard thrusts.

Someone was shouting behind the one on the phone.

“I told hyung that you could take dick in both holes and he doesn’t believe me!”

You immediately recognized that deep, sultry voice in the background. Still, you needed to address the accusation first.

“Kim Seokjin,” you panted. “What the fuck?”

You could hearhis exaggerated eye roll. Well, you couldn’t, but you could, you know?

“Namjoon thinks you can take dick in the pussy and the ass at the same time,” Seokjin spat as if that was utter bullshit. “And that’s just not possible.”

Smack! “Why–” Smack! “Would–” Smack! “You–” Smack! “Think–” Smack! “I couldn’t – mmm, fuck, yes right theeere, fuck, so deep and so hard, ugh, you’re so good…”

Seokjin continued like you weren’t in the middle of getting fucked right that very second.

“Because, okay, you could take some small dick, sure, but us? Us? Come on, you totally couldn’t.”

“That was absolutely absurd of you to say so, Kim Seokjin,” you snapped, your words curling into a lustful moan as a firm hand pushed the small of your back down, forcing you to your elbow, leisurely spanking your ass hard with his open palm, keeping you on the edge, so close to hitting your peak but not quite there, thrusting steady but rough.

The headboard was hammering the wall at the same deliberate pace.

The neighbor who lived on the other side of the wall was cursing again.

“Are you both going to be home?” you gasped out, all of your muscles tensing. Almost

Seokjin snorted. “Pfft, obviously, we are human beings who sleep, you know–”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hung up on him.

“I gotta go.”

Surprisingly, the deep, husky voice behind you actually responded.

Afterthis one.”

“You asshole, you are holding out – a-ah, wait, oooooooh, fuck!”

-

“I took a shower, Yoongi helped me clean all my bits, I dried my hair, went back home to put on a fresh dress and you’re fucking ASLEEP, KIM SEOKJIN, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Zzzzzzz – guh!”

Total chaos as you threw yourself onto Kim Seokjin’s lap, disturbing the perfect image of self-proclaimed Worldwide Handsome laying on the couch covered with a fluffy white blanket and squishy alpaca plush with a red neck scarf tucked in his inner arm, grabbing said plush and smacking him with it repeatedly as Seokjin lost his shit, flailing about and throwing his arms over his head, wailing at you to stop. His roommate, Kim Namjoon, was unabashedly cackling like a lunatic behind you.

“CEASE AND DESIST!”

“You–”FWOOP! “Bossy–” FLOOP! “Pillow–” BOOP! “Princess!”

“Namjoon, h-help!”

“Hell no,” Namjoon snorted in laughter. “I’m having a great time watching.”

“Yah!”

“First you doubt me, then you fall asleep on me, what’s next, you–”

Seokjin grabbed both your wrists, thinking he had won, already cheering for himself, only for you to plant your tits right onto his handsome face, his nose jammed right into your cleavage because of the sweetheart neckline of your red lace dress, hot breath warming your chest, brown eyes wide, grip on your wrists lessening in his shock. You yanked your hands out and clutched his head, sinking your fingers into his black hair, violently muffling his half-squeal, half-moan with your breasts, blaringly obvious that you weren’t wearing a bra because your prominent nipples were already hard and creating stiff peaks under the fabric, poking him incessantly in the cheeks.

You gasped as another pair of strong hands grabbed your forearms and made you release Seokjin’s head, forcing them up and your back to arch. A deep voice dipped down to caress your ear, not paying attention to Seokjin who did not detach himself from your tits.

He was making the most of it while you were distracted.

“Woah there, what do you think you’re doing?” Namjoon drawled, grip tightening, bending your arms back, elbows up, pressing your wrists to your upper back. “That’s not a punishment.”

You tried to breathe but Namjoon’s heavenly deep voice was taking your breath away.

“You know what punishments are.”

He pressed your head back, leaving your arms the way they were, and Namjoon’s sultry eyes appeared, half-lidded brown orbs completely visible because he had cut his hair very short now, dark gray-brown and spiked up, cocking an eyebrow at you. You whimpered at his gaze, suddenly feeling hotness on the curve of your breast, lips pressed to one of your nipples, and then wetness closing in, sucking you through lace and satin, the short flared skirt rising because of your spread thighs, but there was too much fabric between you and Seokjin’s hardness, the blanket and pajama pants and boxer briefs, so frustrating, about to lower your head to rectify that, but Namjoon’s palm pressed into your chin, fingers closing in around your cheeks, immobile.

“Where do you think you’re looking?”

Every time Namjoon smirked, one of his dimples peeked out at you. Ugh, so sexy.

“I… I’m s-supposed to be punishing Seokjinnie…” you gasped out, feeling said man’s teeth nicking at your nipple through your dress, his large hands closing in on your waist, pulling you closer, causing you to bend back more, unable to escape Namjoon’s grip and gaze.

Namjoon tilted his head, amused. “Yeah? Were you so, so mad that hyung wasn’t awake so you could show off how well you can take it in both holes?”

You didn’t want to whine and be pathetic, but Seokjin’s mouth and hands were all over your breasts and waist, pinching you through your clothes and sucking on the hard nubs, rushes of pleasure clouding your head and making you forget your defiance, remembering all the things Namjoon liked, like when you were so drunk on sex that you just gave into him, now whimpering and opening your mouth, your tongue sliding out, feeling him shift his palm, Namjoon’s finger leisurely tracing your lips. Your tongue followed, licking the pads of his fingers, rolling your body into Seokjin’s mouth, wanting to grab his shoulders but not letting yourself do so because Namjoon hadn’t allowed you to do so yet.

He liked you bad, but he also liked you obedient.

“W… Want it…”

You felt Namjoon’s other hand tangle in your hair, fingers molding to your scalp, sliding two of his long fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them, your eyelids fluttering as he fucked your mouth with his fingers, rubbing your tongue, pushing your arms down, your name growled by that deep, deep voice.

“Look at me.”

You fixated your eyes on Namjoon’s stern expression, shuddering as you felt Seokjin push the sleeves of your dress down, scooping out your breasts, moaning as his lips touched your skin, hot tongue teasing your hard nipples and you couldn’t tell him to do more or less, trapped by Namjoon’s fingers in your mouth and his hand in your hair, tugging at it lightly so you sucked his fingers like a cock, vision hazing out at the helplessness of it all.

Voluntary helplessness, to be clear.

“You want it? You had Yoongi-hyung fucking you earlier and now you want more? So dirty and so insatiable,” Namjoon taunted, not meaning it of course, because how could he mean it when he too wanted it all, knew you were insatiable and loved it as much as the rest of them, addicted to the feeling you gave him, pushing your head down, fingers still in your mouth. Seokjin raised his head, black hair, large brown eyes, pink lips lush and full and gorgeous, meeting the image of fingers sliding in and out of your glossy lips, your eyes glassy and reflected in his.

Namjoon pushed his fingers apart, opening your mouth.

Your tongue lolled out, swiping around his knuckle, staring into Seokjin’s eyes.

“F… Fuck…”

The oldest was dirty-minded but resistant in showing it, clenching his jaw, weakening as your fingers danced up his arms and you moaned his name messily between Namjoon’s long wet digits, tits pushed up by the neckline of your dress straining under them, knowing your sensuality was irresistible and infectious, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, pulling him closer.

“I still… don’t think you can take us both at once…” he breathed, staring into your eyes.

You smirked, Namjoon’s fingers sliding out, saliva smearing onto your chin, the taste of his skin on your tongue.

“Only one way to find out.”

And you leaned in and kissed those perfect lips, soft and passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, fingers splaying over his back and in his hair, his name trapped in the kiss, sudden hardness pressing to your back, breaking the first kiss and turning your head to be trapped in another, full lips commanding the lip-lock, two different hands on your breasts, Seokjin and Namjoon toying with them, the rush of pleasure only just beginning.

-

“Whose face am I looking at?”

“Obviouslymine,” Seokjin scoffed. “Do you even have to ask?”

You gasped. “But Namjoon is so handsome.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you want him to make you look at him, so that completely defeats the purpose of being forced when the default is you facing him.”

“Also, hyung thinks he’s the most handsome,” Namjoon chuckled, tugging your dress off, kisses across your chest as it left your body, hands travelling to push your panties down.

No,” Seokjin choked, affronted as you moaned and gripped Namjoon’s shoulders, enjoying his powerful grip. “I am not that self-centered. I just happen to like how Ilook very much. Namjoon is very handsome, capable, and intelligent.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

Namjoon shoved a finger inside your wetness, making you stumble into the sofa, raising your leg to place it against Seokjin’s naked thigh, almost falling if it wasn’t for your ass being suddenly grabbed by Seokjin’s firm hands.

“You are still clumsy, Namjoon,” Seokjin sighed, lowering you slightly to look over your shoulder.

You reached back and held onto the sofa, Namjoon’s mouth on your nipple and his finger in your soaked pussy, thrusting deeply to match his swiping tongue, maddeningly slow but rough, so dangerous, losing your mind at the leisurely pace, trying to buck your hips to get more but Seokjin’s hands were preventing you.

You heard the oldest huff and make a disapproving tongue click.

“Not like that. She likes it faster than that.”

Namjoon knew that. Obviously.

Your eyes widened.

He smirked around your nipple as one of Seokjin’s hands left your ass.

“Seok– oh, fuuuck!”

You gasped as you felt another finger enter your dripping pussy, another finger of a different hand, stretching your walls and a different pace, faster, your eyes rolling back, head hitting Seokjin’s shoulder, but either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, your moans in his ear, Namjoon matching the rhythm, oh, shit, they were fingering you together, Seokjin from between your legs from behind and Namjoon from the front, the backs of their hands slick with your juices, Seokjin’s other hand still squeezing one ass cheek and Namjoon’s other hand on your waist, his mouth on your breasts.

“Come on, I know you’re close,” Seokjin muttered, exhaling hard. “I can feel your pussy sucking me in, asking for dick already.”

He was not normally one for dirty talk, but sometimes Seokjin let himself got lost in the lust, lost in the moment of your throbbing walls and shaking body, moans of their names tumbling from your lips, filling up their living room with obscenity and depravity, thrusting in unison, loud and wet and heavy breathing blending with your sound, pushed to the edge, thighs tensing, electricity flashing throughout your nerves.

“Namjoon, Seokjin, fuck!”

Wet squelch, sweet gush of your juices soaking their hands, your eyes rolling back, yelping as Namjoon’s hand retreated and Seokjin stuffed another finger in you. You didn’t need to say it, one glance at Namjoon and he could see it, harder, hyung, she can take it, gasping as Seokjin obeyed and Namjoon’s wet fingers pressed onto your throbbing clit, wild howl at the contact, sparks of sensitivity because it was right after your orgasm, heat at your neck from Seokjin’s cheeks, his teeth finding your shoulder, biting it, maybe from his realization of how crazy this moment was or in the heated moment of wanting to feed you even more pleasure, but the sharp unexpected pain only hiked your moans, Namjoon rubbing your clit as Seokjin shoved his fingers into you hard and fast, the angle a little awkward but there was so much going on that it didn’t matter, already there once again, obsessed with the overabundance of ecstasy, I’m cumming, fuck, Namjoon, Seokjin, a-ah, clit engorged and pulsing strongly to Namjoon’s punishing touch, words jumbled and woven with breathless cries, orgasm crashing down and soaking Seokjin’s hand once more, thick and sweet and honey-like, viscous juices clinging to your inner thighs, painted with your high.

Namjoon leaned in, silencing your shuddering gasps with his mouth, deep kisses and swirling tongue dazing you, aftershocks flinching through your torso as he pressed his fingertips to your jerking core, lowering you from the crashing waves, whispering darkly against your lips.

“We haven’t even started.”

Releasing you, and you were already turning around, meeting Seokjin’s gaze and his panting smile, kissing it, sighing contentedly in his touch, just something about those lips and his large frame surrounding you, something about the way he shivered when you sucked his breath away and drank it, almost innocent, but not that innocent, because the second your wandering hand found the condom on the sofa and pressed it into his palm, his lips curved into a teasing grin, nipping at yours.

“Already?” he teased.

You reached between you and him, fingers ghosting his length, smirking at Seokjin’s gasp, gazing at him under your lashes.

“You get hard from kisses, Seokjinnie.”

“I – gah, d-don’t…”

But he didn’t mean it, of course not, because he was humping your hand that was closing around his hot, hardening cock, stroking him slowly from base to tip, spreading the pre-cum over the sensitive head, his jaw clenching at the feeling, desire and need clouding his eyes, pupils blown-out, ripping open the foil packet, heavier exhales, staring into your eyes.

“You want to look at me that bad, huh?” he breathed against your lips, fishing for it.

You gave it to him, exactly what he wanted.

“Mhm, Seokjin, I want to look at your handsome, perfect face while you fuck my pussy and Namjoon fucks my ass.”

He sucked in a breath, caught in his throat.

“You’re crazy, but so, so hot.”

Eh, you’ll take it.

You moved your hand and he rolled the condom down, yelping as you captured his lips again, addicted to his kiss and his soft cries, his hand and your hand guiding his stiff cock to your quivering pussy, already saturated with slickness, spread knees and lowering body, sinking down onto him, moaning into his mouth and he moaned into your throat, suffocating each other with your noises, rolling your hips and breaking the kiss, both of your faces pointed to heaven with the true heaven between your connected hips, pleasure at being filled and doing the filling, his hands on your ass to push you down.

“Hyung, spread her ass,” Namjoon ordered behind you.

You pitched forward slightly, wrapping your arms around Seokjin’s shoulders, gasping as you felt him tug outwards, sinking his fingers into your softness, your lips pressed to his cheek, his sweet voice murmuring your name, filling you with warmth despite being exposed so vulnerably.

You inhaled deeply, breathing in Seokjin’s clean scent.

Then you flexed your asshole, tightening and relaxing the ring of muscle.

Fuck, that’s so sexy.”

You gazed at him in your periphery, eyes widening as you realized Namjoon too was naked now, muscular body towering behind you, flicking open a bottle of lube and spreading it over his fingers, rubbing them together as they became shiny and slippery, catching your interested expression.

He smirked, dimple on display. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready since I walked in the door, Namjoon,” you smirked back, enamored with his seductive dark brown eyes.

He chuckled.

“Nah, you were ready the second Seokjin challenged you and said you couldn’t do it.”

Oops, he got ya.

You gasped hotly, feeling his fingers press up against your tight hole, tracing circles and teasing you, pushing into your ass in the opposing rhythm of Seokjin’s rocking hips, your hold on Seokjin’s shoulders tightening, hearing him gasp with you, watching two Namjoon’s fingers dip in and snake into the tightness, both of them inhaling sharply at the sound, wet squelch and your wanton cry, your hips rocking into it, pleasure shimmering all over.

“T-That’s still not a dick,” Seokjin managed to get out, still stubborn but mixed with awe regardless.

“Gotta stretch her out,” Namjoon chuckled. “Don’t wanna hurt our good girl, right?”

Well, if you weren’t in euphoria before, you definitely were there now.

“N… Namjoon-ah…”

“Shh, I got you, just enjoy.”

You arched your back a little more, Seokjin sliding down to accommodate, slowly thrusting and gasping at the sensation, turning to him and intense kisses, needing to occupy your mouth, fullness in your ass and your pussy, whimpering as your felt Namjoon’s fingers flex, nudging your muscles to relax, core throbbing, clenching around Seokjin’s stiff length instead, so good, oh, yes, it was so good, his kisses and slapping your hips down, wanting more, already chasing more, intoxicated by the feeling of both your holes being filled.

You heard the bottle of lube fall to the floor and the slick sound of hand on hardness.

Shivers up and down your spine.

“Say it.”

You broke Seokjin’s kiss, gasping.

“Tell us that you want it,” Namjoon growled.

Drunk on the idea, commanded by lust.

“P-Please, Namjoon…” you breathed, eyes hazy and half-lidded, staring at Seokjin. “Want you to fuck my ass as Seokjin fucks my pussy. Want you two to ruinme.”

The brown eyes beneath you widened, mouthing, you’re crazy.

You grinned, Namjoon’s fingers buried in your ass.

“Told you, hyung.”

His fingers pulled out, pushing the small of your back down with his palm. One a second to mourn the loss and then your eyes widened, the thick head of Namjoon’s cock pressed against your ass.

Wait, maybe you should have asked if Namjoon could be in your puss–

Too late.

“Oh,f-fuck!”

You clutched Seokjin’s shoulders, digging your nails into him as slowly, carefully, Namjoon’s girth entered your tight, tight hole, still tight even through he worked you up and stretched you out, the lube helping him slip inside, your mind going blank, realizing that maybe you went over your head a little, but too far to turn back and, to be honest, you didn’t want to turn back, the fullness already too good to regret it, gasping as Namjoon gripped your hips, holding you completely still as he bottomed out, hot breath on your shoulder blades.

Well.

Your mind wasn’t so blank that you forgot to speak.

“Still…” you panted, slowly grinning at Seokjin’s shocked and stunned face, his jaw dropped as he felt and witnessed it. “Think it’s impossible for me to take dick in both holes?”

“Y-Y-You…” he sputtered, choking a little as Namjoon began to move, his scrambled words mixing with your lustful moans. “Are absurd.”

It was almost too much, but Namjoon did not let you command the pace, instead firmly keeping you in one spot as he nudged Seokjin to move, guiding you both expertly, groaning when you pulsated around the two dicks, able to feel the reverberations from the closeness, body to body to body, trembling from the overwhelming sensation, Seokjin thrusting up from below, his handsome face tense, panting with effort.

“Oh, fuck… it’s so tight… fuck, I can feel it, I can feel his dick fucking your ass, that’s so weird…”

You weren’t quite sure what he expected to feel. What did Seokjin originally think he was getting into when he called you? He was the one who had been touting their superior size! What did he think it would feel like–?!

“A-Ah, y-yes, there, like that, oh f-fuck, like thaaaaaaat…”

You forgot about questioning Seokjin’s brain, refocusing on the feeling of the consistent thrusting and depth of the two cocks, an almost melodic rhythm and substantial fullness. There was a sweet spot, right, oh, there, Namjoon’s hand flat against your back, his deep grunts of effort paired with each smack of hips to ass and Seokjin’s crotch to yours.

Oh, huh, were those loud, pitched moans resonating off the apartment walls you? But the ecstasy too high, too real, too good, so good that you seemed to forget that it was already very late at night.

Surelytheirneighbors would complain – was that part of your brand now? oops – but it seemed that neither Seokjin or Namjoon noticed or cared, pants and moans and groans and chasing carnal pleasure, irrational, wild, heads thrown back, lashes fluttering and lost in bliss, stuffing your tight, wet heat from both holes, kissing Seokjin sloppily before turning your head to make out with Namjoon, his teeth trapping your tongue and sucking on it, gargled moan and shaking body at the mercy of his iron grip, snapping back to Seokjin’s pillowy lips, juxtaposition of hard and soft, crashing pleasure and coiled constriction, letting go, orgasm overtaking you in shudders, not realizing you had been so close, their names falling from your throat between fucked-out, loud, blissful cries.

SeokjinNamjoon…”

Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but peak in that gratifying elation, shivers up and down your spine, the lower half of your body throbbing and trembling, chin lowering only to witness Seokjin shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw, groaning out your name as he shot into the condom, jerking cock twitching inside you, vibrating front to back, no, that was Namjoon’s low hiss of your name, his fingernails digging in your hips he shot into your ass, your eyes snapping open, thick spurts of his orgasm so strong that you could feel his cock twitching deep inside, your pulse roaring in your ears, chest heaving, struggling for breath.

Feeling far too proud that they both came with you.

Namjoon’s sweaty chest hit your back, sandwiching you between that big body and Seokjin’s broad shoulders. Seokjin looked to be two seconds away from passing out from the ecstasy of orgasm.

Nice.

“Don’t… question me… again,” you snickered, panting heavily.

Seokjin mumbled and shrugged, incoherent.

“I think he’s saying you could do this, but not the reverse of him in the ass and me in the pussy,” Namjoon clarified, kissing your shoulders with an amused chuckle.

What?!” you roared.

“That’s n-not…!”

Welp.

-

“We still have unfinished business.”

“Yoongi, I just got DP’ed last night. Have mercy.”

“Mmm.”

Kisses on your neck, lowering the strap of your bra, wrapping his arms around you, purring your name.

“I guess you can buy me dinner and we can watch a movie instead.”

I have to buy?!”

masterpost

thursday’s child has far to go | knj

drabbles inspired by TXT’s album minisode 2: thursday’s child

warnings: language, slice-of-life + a mild existential crisis; starring Kim Namjoon and in his POV, ft Jung Hoseok as his running buddy and our resident optimist

acceptance. the fifth stage of grief

-

“Hey, you ready to go?”

“Mmmph, Namjoon-ah… I think I’m going to rest today. I practiced until late last night and I’m still so sleepy…”

“You should rest. Don’t push yourself too hard, Hoseokie.”

Tap, tap. Sneakers securely tied on, gray tank loose and moisture-wicking, breezy athletic shorts. Had his phone in one pocket, and, after some thought, shoved in some cash in the other. Should he bring his water bottle? Probably. Where are my wireless headphones?Ah, here.Wait. These were two different ones. Moreover, they were both left ears only. Ack. Where are the rights? He searched high and low, all over his kitchen counter, messing up the freshly cleared off real estate. He just needed one right to one of the lefts.

“Ah!”

Kim Namjoon plucked the white earbud out of his chopstick holder.

“… Fuck!”

Another left.

He cursed his luck that was mostly his own clumsiness and continued rifling among the drawers.

Moments later, he found two rights literally chilling in his freezer.

“Ah, right… this fridge makes weird sounds sometimes…” Namjoon grumbled to himself, closing the door and shaking the earbuds. He placed one in his ear after warming it up. Synced it to his phone. It crackled. Shit. He tried the other. Oh! This one was fine. He tried all three lefts until he found the pair it belonged to.

One was still missing its partner.

“You’re like me, little one,” he chuckled to the lone earbud, leaving them on his kitchen counter as he shoved a baseball cap on for his morning run. Keys, by the door. Nice.I’m glad I put this hook here. Right before leaving the apartment, he flicked the cap off, letting it fall to the console table by the door. Ah, it’s too hot. I’ll get sweaty if I keep that on. He stretched out his legs and arms, warming up for his morning run. It only took a moment and then he was off.

Namjoon left his apartment, remembering to lock up, leaving his water bottle in the kitchen.

He ran.

It was morning. A little cold, but with the sun on his face and the blood pumping in his veins, he ran to keep warm. He liked to listen to music on his morning run when he was by himself. It gave him a rhythm to move along to. The songs kept playing back-to-back, leading him along as he followed his usual path.

He ran.

When he ran, he felt alive. Any movement of his body, really. But there was something about running. Maybe it was the human condition, the way that running was both going towards and away from something. That was how it was for everyone, in some way or another. Still, something about the physical aspect felt freeing, the satisfying way his feet solidly hit the concrete and yet he felt like he was flying, on the wings of music and sunlight.

Namjoon ran and he missed Jung Hoseok.

He met Hoseok at school. They had been in the same year. It was crazy how positive and happy that guy was. He really was up for anything and he talked to everyone. Hoseok was a dance choreographer so he was already very active, but when Namjoon asked if he wanted to join him on his morning runs, Hoseok agreed, at least on the weekends. To keep his endurance and stamina up. Namjoon enjoyed it, the breathless talks and the after-workout breakfast at some random spot in the city before heading back on the bus. A lot of people thought Hoseok was all about fun, and he was, but he had an introspective side too. It was a duality Namjoon appreciated. Personally, he felt that he was lacking in that department.

Namjoon couldn’t be fun without someone else around him, so he ran.

It was good for the body. Exercise contributed to living a longer, healthier life, both mentally and physically. There were tons of scientific research all about it.

He ran, music in his ears, and Namjoon wondered if this really was helping him. He was pessimistic by nature. That was why he looked forward to his runs with Hoseok, the sunny optimist. When Namjoon believed in the worst, Hoseok believed in the best.

It was hard to argue with that heart-shaped smile, so he didn’t.

His lungs were on fire and Namjoon kept running. It felt like forever, but of course it wasn’t.

Nothing was forever.

Running was less fleeting than that feeling called love.

He skidded on his sneaker, gasping for breath at the park, suddenly feeling thirsty. Ah… Maybe he pushed himself too hard. He hadn’t even been thinking about it. He was following song after song, taking the longer route today. The front of his tank top was already soaked though. Even the back. The sun was climbing in the sky and it was getting warmer. It was about time to drink some water.

Namjoon looked down at his hands.

There was no water bottle.

“Oh… did I forget it?” he mumbled, scratching his head confusedly.

Maybe he could buy a water bottle from a convenience store or something.

Time to start running again.

He briefly thought about the nearest store and started jogging, feeling the heat of the sun on his back.

That’s weird. It’s quiet.

Namjoon frowned, reaching up to tap his earbud. Did he turn it off by accident? It beeped in his ear. Oh. They were dying. Of course. He hadn’t even checked the battery. He took them out and threw them in his pocket, looking around at the still closed shops, the few people on the street hurrying to their destinations.

He could hear the world now.

Namjoon decided a long time ago that the world wasn’t a bad place. It wasn’t great, but nothing was, so it wasn’t fair to judge the whole world by the actions of the few. But the world lacked sincerity. Maybe himself too. Everyone was always thinking about various things, always being tugged this way and that by insecurities and entanglement, and it was hard to be sincere. To be a real one, you had to throw away some compassion. Let go of other people’s thoughts, let go of your own, act a little thoughtlessly, and Namjoon wasn’t sure he could do that.

It made love hard.

He understood fondness. Caring for another. Being by their side if they needed it. But Namjoon didn’t understand love and maybe that was because there was a little magic in it and Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to believe in magic.

“What are you running from?” a voice asked.

He jerked to the side, yelped, and nearly fell on his face.

“Whoa, guy, are you okay?”

He had tripped on a straw broom and skipped sideways, crab-like, attempting to regain his balance. In his search for a store, he had gotten sidetracked in his own thoughts. He snapped his head up, sputtering apologies to a woman with a light cream apron, white headscarf, and raised eyebrows.

She held onto the now crooked broom, frowning at him.

“Are you running from something?” she asked again. “You were in your own world.”

“Wha – oh, no, I–”

You were in your own world.

Namjoon cut himself off, suddenly fixated on those words.

Is that it? Am I just too stuck in my own world and how I see it, stuck in how the others impact my world rather than opening up to integrate with the worlds of those around me?

He suddenly felt something hit him in the chest.

“Oh!”

It was a water bottle.

The woman shoved it into his pecs, clutching the broom with her other hand. “You look like you’re gonna pass out. That wouldn’t be good for business. You should drink some water.”

He looked up and saw it was a take-out noodle restaurant. Not yet open. It appeared that the employee had been cleaning before he barged onto the property.

“T-Thank you. Sorry about interrupting your work.”

She shrugged, letting go when he took the water bottle with a bow. “Just keeping the street clean. So, whatchu running from?”

He gulped down several large sips of water. Gosh. He needed that. Maybe he did look closer to fainting than he thought. His eyebrows knitted together at her repeated question.

“Pardon?” He frowned. “Why would you think I’m running from something?”

She cocked her head, looking at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Out of all workouts, running is picked up by those who always have something to run from.”

Confusion shimmered through him. “What is the evidence that supports that conclusion?”

She laughed, sweeping away leaves from the front of the store. “There isn’t any. It’s only my personal opinion.”

Now Namjoon was even more puzzled. “Huh? How can you come up with something like that?”

She shrugged, leaning on the straw broom, ruining the bristles. “Hmm, I guess it’s a thoughtless thought, then. Based on a weak sample size.” She grinned. “Personal experience, actually. I used to run when I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do when I grew up. Getting some big fancy career seemed daunting. But working at a restaurant seemed too simple, even if I liked it. So, I ran track in secondary school and university. I thought, maybe if I’m good enough… but I wasn’t that great, haha!”

She shook her head, brushing away some spare dust by her feet.

“I figured I would work here until I knew what I wanted to do.”

Namjoon held the water bottle, overcome by curiosity.

“Do you have a better idea of what you want to do now?” he asked.

The woman smiled wide, deep-set dimples indenting each cheek.

“Nope!”

She laughed, bright and sunny.

“And I don’t think I ever will.”

Namjoon stared at this pessimistic optimism, feeling enthralled.

She shrugged. “Isn’t it enough to feed people good food? Everyone’s gotta eat. I’ll stick with that.”

His stomach growled loudly, yelling for sustenance.

Namjoon placed his arms over his abdomen, wincing. “Ah, yeah…” he mumbled, embarrassed.

She laughed again, bright and sunny, waving the broom.

“Come on. You like noodles? Of course, you do. Everyone does. Guess I should feed you. If you pass out in front of the restaurant, it’s extremely bad for business, especially a big tree of a man like you. People will think I’m cruel for leaving you there, but if they thought about it, I obviously can’t move a huge guy by myself. Sheesh. People need to think more.”

-

far to go. drabble series

01 opening sequence — myg
03 trust fund baby — ksj
04 lonely boy (the tattoo on my ring finger) — kth, ft pjm
05 thursday’s child has far to go — knj, ft jhs
02 good boy gone bad — jjk, ft myg (collar!AU)

-

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

Nerve || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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Part 23.5 - Crisscross

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?’

Taglist - @casnextdoor@jaysdimples@belliebell@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[open]

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Part 23.5 - Crisscross

Part 24 || Fortification

Part 25 - coming soon

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Nerve || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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Part 23 || Vindication

Part 23.5 - Crisscross

Part 24 || Fortification

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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); 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.’

Taglist - @casnextdoor@jaysdimples@belliebell@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[open]

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Part 23 || Vindication

Part 23.5 - Crisscross

Part 24 || Fortification

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Nerve || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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Part 22.5 - Yami Y/n

Part 23 || Vindication

Part 23.5- Crisscross

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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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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?’

Taglist - @casnextdoor@jaysdimples@belliebell@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[open]

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Part 22.5 - Yami Y/n

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 taehyung    #bts yoongi    #bts hoseok    #bts jimin    #bts jungkook    #bts seokjin    #bts fic    #jungkook    #taehyung    #hoseok    #yoongi    

Nerve_24.5 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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Part 24 || Fortification

Part 24.5 - Divide

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 - 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.

Taglist - @casnextdoor@jaysdimples@belliebell@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

[open till the end of Update 25]

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Part 24 || Fortification

Part 24.5 - Divide

Part 25 - coming soon

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Nerve_25.4 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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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;

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); 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.

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

#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    #bts aus    #kim namjoon x reader    #namjoon fanfic    #nerve au    #jungkook    #seokjin    #namjoon    #taehyung    #yoongi    #hoseok    

Nerve_25.3 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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Part 25.2 - Havoc

Part 25.3 - Cloak & Dagger

Part 25.4 - Killswitch

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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 - 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

Nerve_25.0 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt-@casnextdoor

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Part 24.5 - Divide

Part 25.0 - Dissidence

Part 25.1 - Wildflower

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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 - 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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joonessence:

Dizzy // knj

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pairing: namjoon x fem oc

summary: Your crush on Namjoon isn’t even that big. You don’t think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, your eyes never follow him across the room, and you definitely don’t pay attention to the way his thighs look when he wears those jeans.

rating: M(18+)

tags: sorta unrequited-ish not really though hehe, friends to lovers au, smut but also fluff at the end, dirty talk, namjoon uses baby and sweetheart, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, kinda possessive joon makes an appearance, cum eating, choking but not really, that is probably all

wc: 6.4k

notes: my longest fic to date !! i hope you enjoy :-)

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You’re not really sure what you’re doing here, your intentions are fuzzy but you know one thing for sure; Kim Namjoon makes you dizzy, makes your head spin. 

These days, you can’t go twenty minutes without thinking, ‘I wonder what Namjoon is doing’ or ‘did Namjoon eat today?’ It’s almost pathetic. Scratch that, it is pathetic. Namjoon was introduced to you at the beginning of your freshman year in university by your first on-campus friend, Hoseok, as his lifelong best friend and confidant. Namjoon made the world’s best first impression on you, he was so smart and so humble and once you heard it, you couldn’t get his laugh to stop replaying in your head. Your small infatuation, if you can call it that, for Namjoon quickly turned into a pretty sizable crush, unable to remember a time where Namjoon wasn’t always on your mind.

That’s how you find yourself here, at that small gathering that Namjoon and Hoseok were throwing in their apartment. Through Hoseok, you made many of your close friends, namely Seokjin, who was a graduate student at the same university. It was Hoseok who invited you, but Seokjin had begged you to come, claiming something about these years being your prime and whatnot. Half convinced and half desperate to see Namjoon, you came but still, you don’t know why you’re here. It’s not like you coming would make any kind of dent in Namjoon’s evening. He’s always been a popular guy on campus, constantly surrounded by people, they seem to flock to him and his blinding, dimpled smile. So when Namjoon walks up to you and Seokjin with an extra drink in his hand, you have no idea how to react. 

Keep reading

And just like that I’m whipped.


In His Hands || knj

Genre:romance; fluff; boyfriend!namjoon x girlfriend!reader.

⤷Warnings:themes of insecurity.

Namjoon’s hands were your haven.

And you were simply entranced by them, from the meticulous sculpt of his slim fingers that rivaled the finest art pieces to how they entangled with your own so perfectly.

You loved nothing more than to simply admire them from afar, but once your eyes delved into the perfectly sculpted crevices and nooks of his appendages, little else mattered.

And though they often brought graceless destruction to so much around him, there was no place you felt was safer than when your hands intertwined with his. And when his thumb tenderly rubbed soothing shapes into your palm, there was nothing that could touch you.

So you loved to merely touch them at all times, and every opportunity to hold them within your own was never overlooked; much to your shy boyfriend’s dismay.

Even now, as your own hands delicately played with his lithe fingers, not even the glittering Cosmos could capture your attention.

The image of his deft fingers curling around his fountain pen as he wrote whatever lyrics he conjured was almost far too tempting to merely forget, which resulted in your thievery of his limbs.

It was only once the twinkle of your eyes faded from your lover’s view did he care for your play as you placed your palm against his, seemingly comparing the two.

“What’s wrong, little peach?” His voice spilled from his lips like a soothing tea, waiting to warm and comfort you after a long day.

Your brows furrowed as your fingers hesitantly slipped from his own and a soft sigh pushed past your lips. “Nothing.”

A frown fell upon his dewy lips whilst his broad hands pulled away from your grasp just to wrap around your own that hid from him within your sleeves.

“I know when somethings bothering you, peach. Don’t lie to me.”

Though his demands were delicate to your ears, you winced at his soft whispers, you hated it when his voice gently delved into the soft tone that made you want to open your whole heart to him, and never twist the truth in the slightest.

Namjoon was much like a truth serum, the softest moments with him could easily pour the truth from your lips, without much of an effort from your boyfriend.

“It’s just so stupid, but I’ve been thinking about our hands.” You awkwardly confessed only for a wordless nod and a gentle smile from your boyfriend, that urged you to tell him all that troubled you.

“And how beautiful yours are- just like the rest of you,” you gestured to his strong body, before a quiescent chuckle bubbled from him just to flutter your heart before he beckoned you into his lap, “and mine just don’t feel worthy.”

His strong arms tangled around your waist whilst his nose tenderly traced your cheek, and his fingers you adored so much filled the empty spaces between your own.

“Nothing from you will ever be stupid to me.” He assured you, tapping the tip of your nose with his fingers before he brought your hands between your chests.

“And you should know these are so beautiful.”

He praised ever so softly, as if a breath would shatter the hands his fingertips grazed, before he carefully pressed his lips to your smallest finger and dipped his lips to next, he kissed every imperfection and blemish ten times before repeating his soft kisses ten times more.

Once he drew his velvety lips from the back from your hands, the warmth he placed within your belly burned along with your curiosity.

“Why?”

His head fell back just enough to look into your eyes as his hands rested upon the small of your back and hips, as goosebumps followed the path of his fingers along your spine.

“Because each one of them are yours.” He stated, as if it were an answer so clear, written within classic literature as a fact of life, and you were baffled at just how perfect he was to you.

Your lips parted in the stunned silence he hushed you with, unable to comprehend an answer to his beautiful comforts; but you hadn’t need to say anything at all for him interlace his hands with yours, to emphasize just how immaculately they joined together.

“If they weren’t, they could never fit so perfectly with mine.” He whispered, his eyes never leaving your tangled fingers until his twinkling eyes looked into yours.

“Everything about you is perfect for me, little peach.”

Perhaps it was the sincerity of his eyes locked upon yours, or how his hand that wasn’t wrapped so tightly within your own gently tucked your hair behind your ear, but you were far too wrought with his words to form your own.

So you did all you knew to do, you wordlessly mashed your lips into his own that had simply been pleading with you to kiss them at last.

The hold he had upon your hand tightened as his other hand cupped your cheek with a gentleness you could only expect from Namjoon, as he sweetly returned your shy kisses.

He gave you all of his understanding and love until your fears were irrelevant, all the while your hand remained tightly enclosed within his.

Tag list: @holaaaf@yourwonderbelle@lolalee24

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist.Previous chapter

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Horror

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 8: The Hen House part 1

A/N. Y'all. Have you seen airport Yoongi 2022? Also, wrote this while on the road so forgive me if it’s sloppy.

FLASHBACK

Smoke filled your lungs, an endless circle of tobacco and the smell of fried eggs and grilling meat as you tried to push your sweaty hair to the side, the sun beating down on your bare fore arms, the prickling heat shoved at the forefront of your mind incessantly.

You just know you were going to get a tan in weird places with the way your shirt sleeves were haphazardly rolled up to your shoulders and the frayed edge tied to a side knot just above your hip bone.

If anything you looked like a poster girl for Rosie the Riveter minus the iconic red polka-dotted headband.

You had foregone wearing shorts, opting for jeans instead as you weren’t really all that comfortable showing a good amount of skin below your stomach and so it was sweltering hot as you attempted with a mild grunt to carry the multitude of colored boxes for a new resident of the Hen House - you think you’ve read one labelled Toysand you weren’t born yesterday to decipher what thathad meant.

With a blush, you enter the comfortable air conditioned lobby of the home, the receptionist smiling behind the desk before going back to jot down something on her clipboard, and you trudge up the winding staircases down to the east wing.

The Hen House, built upon an old abandoned convent back in the day boasted a sprawling ten-acre enclave lined with all kinds of trees and greenery, a massive lake just behind the structure where you mostly loved to spend your time lounging by the docks whenever you didn’t have anything to do, feeding whatever woodland creature graced you with it’s presence so you tended to pocket an assortment of nuts and bits and pieces of bread whenever you visit.

It was actually one of the adopted social services program for Kyung Hee, the university you were attending, extending help to women (and men) who previously worked in the under hood of Korea’s red light districts and were trying to turn over a new page in their battered, worn out books.

Initially you were hesitant, what with your swamped schedule but your professor had convinced you otherwise in exchange for raising your GPA so you had agreed without thinking too much of the consequences.

Passing through the hallways all while giving a wave or two to the relatively cheerful residents doing their own thing, you come to a stop in front of a wooden door.

Lightly nudging it open, you toddle through and gently place the boxes in a corner of the room out of harm’s way.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.”

Startled, you almost smack the tall intruder in his handsome face. “Oh fuck, sorry!” You bow as he barely dodges from your hands before he chuckles, bringing your flailing to a stop.

Your eyes land on the love handles peeking through his white cropped shirt.

Like a fish out of water, you blatantly ogle the dude, only to curse under your breath- first house rule, never ever check out the residents (at least openly) for several reasons, one of them being a violation of their dignity and privacy after everything they went through to get to this point.

But you couldn’t help it! He easily towered over you and he was huge, like he ate protein shakes for breakfast every morning.

Clearing your throat, you hold out a hand in greeting. “I’m LN YN.”

The attractive stranger nods taking your hand in his for a brief shake. “Kim Matthew, but you may call me BM.”

You give him a genuine, welcoming smile. “Well then, BM, I hope you like your new home. The people here can be a handful, and crazy, and sometimes pushes all your buttons and smoke like they’re sixty-five but they’re all caring on the inside.” You state plainly only to flush when you realize you were babbling.

You give a hasty bow, “Also, I’ll be in your care from now on.”

He grins, white canines glinting, the tear drop earrings he sported shimmers in the mid afternoon light streaming through the curtains as he pats your head consolingly almost amused at your little display and you look up at him shyly. “Likewise, YN.”

You have a strong feeling you and him would get along just fine.

.

BM, as it turns out, became your bosom buddy even if you hadn’t known him for long.

He was very well likeable and was basically good at everything, from cooking to building that cat dream house one of the matrons had always wanted, and writing poems that could rival Namjoon’s, you were starting to think all beautiful people were blessed by the gods themselves.

And BM was really good at writing. Like insanely good.

So it isn’t a wonder when one day, as you were raking leaves in the garden, he comes running out thrusting sheafs of paper against your face, getting you cross eyed as you tentatively take them from his excited grasp.

“I got in, YN!” He screams with giddiness and you stare confused only for your creased brows to unfurl, a giant smile lighting up your haggard demeanor.

BM had been accepted to Kyung Hee as a Literature Major under a scholarship.

The best part was, he would be sponsored to go to an Ivy League school of his choice as long as he kept his grades up.

“Woah, this is awesome!” You tell him, proud at his accomplishments as he basically lifts you up and twirls you around like you weighed nothing.

Having been a former stripper for a BDSM club, your friend didn’t have many options in his career, most regarding him with an underlying sort of disgust, a used commodity but it seems the Literature department of your university thought he had great potential ahead of him if they were willing to go so far as to let him finish a Master’s Degree abroad.

Once back in your feet, your beefy friend hesitates. “But… I’ll be moving into the dorms before the semester starts.”

You snort and smack him lightly on the chest, the only part reachable for your five foot, two inches. “Don’t worry about me, dummy. I go to the same university too. Dorm visitations are allowed on weekends. And it’s not like you can’t just text me to meet up or something. ”

He chuckles, but then his sharp eyes stray to somewhere behind you as he subconsciously grips your fingers in his. “Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” He whispers seriously and you shoot a look at the middle aged man tottering a few steps away towards the sidewalk, as if he had just been caught peering through the fence.

You freeze. Who was that? This was the third time in a row you’ve caught him staring at you.

Somehow, and you don’t know why but that behavior reminded you of the Bogeyman when you were younger.

You shuddered.

BM does not let you get home alone that night as he steadfastly refuses to let you drive alone. “I’ll just take a cab on the way back.” He says, tone final and you don’t argue.

Knowing your friend for over a year now, his instincts for bad things were usually a little too spot on, (like that time you showed him a photo of an apartment you were looking into leasing which thankfully you didn’t as turns out it was a trap house) having been honed by dealing with seedy and unsavory clients for almost half of his street rat years.

Maybe you should report that incident to the police just in case.

You give him a farewell kiss on the cheek and watch him walk the driveway, past the security who open the gates for him, and back into the shadows, only for you to stop in your tracks as you feel someone watching your backside (surely it wasn’t the gatekeeper) and not wasting any time, you run into the house almost colliding into one of the boys dogs.

“Woof!”

You heave a sigh of relief as the brown poodle clings to your leg, tail wagging. “Holly, you scared me! ” You coo only for her owner to come stumbling out into the foyer sleepily.

“Oh, you’re back.” He then frowns checking the clock on the wall and is fairly surprised that it’s around two in the morning. He pauses awkwardly by the foot of the stairs. “…Had a hot date?” Yoongi drawls albeit uncomfortably, though you can’t tell with the way his lips break out into his usual smirk.

You don’t know why that gets to you, it’s just a question, but it does anyway and with how tired you were the entire goddamn day and the lingering fear still rooted in your bones, a bit of light leaves your irises. “Eh.” You shrug neither denying or confirming and brush past him, leaving Holly yapping in the background and her owner stumped because it was the first time you acted like you he was a roommate and nothing more.

Not a member of your makeshift family.

Not the man who hung the moon and the stars.

Not the man who broke your heart countless of times as he and his brothers came home looking thoroughly fucked and sated.

Nothing.

Frantic footsteps follow you, “…are you hungry?”

You stop and he stops, his dog in tow, sitting her butt on the marbled floor. “I’m sleepy. Good night, Yoongi. ” Your tone borders on a heavy sort of finality and you trudge up to your room without another word, not caring a shit what he thought about you at the moment.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

.

The next morning finds you buried bone deep in volunteer work.

It was Sunday, and with no boyfriend or social life outside of your boys you had offered to clean the old lake shed at the Hen House.

It was a dusty old shack if anything, filled with miscellaneous stuff old residents had left and some rusty machinery which could fetch a notable price at some obscure junkyard by the roadside.

If only you weren’t alone (not discounting the receptionist and the cook who were always on duty) but the other staff had the day off and since most of the residents were capable of running the place anyway, they were left to their own devices.

You cough up a storm as the pile of books on the shelf topples, leaving you wheezing in a particle cloud of dust bunnies.

The shed may be grimy but it was pretty workable as it was small, big enough to fit at most four of you.

You huff, putting on a mask and hyping your spirits to do some shit cleaning because you were not going to leave this place without scrubbing every single inch, every nook and cranny until you were satisfied.

“Let’s do this, YN.”

It takes you approximately until seven into the evening to finish everything and you collapse in the now waxed and polished floor, muscles aching and moaning.

All things that could still be of use were boxed and taped up to be sent to the lost and found department just in case some of the residents wanted to ‘dumpster dive’.

The stuff that were practically trash was going to be shipped off to the junkyard tomorrow. Recycle and all that shit.

With a tired whine, you allow yourself to partially doze off to slumber, only minutes later, something cold taps your ankle until long fingers are grasping them and you jump up, shrieking in shock.

The old man you had seen with BM last night was here. Inside the shed. With you.

Shit!

Before you can even run out to call for help, a force yanks you back and you land on the hardwood with a thump.

You refuse to look anywhere but at him, thinking this was the way you were going to die and you’d rather not hold the face of your murderer in the afterlife lest you never find peace, only for him to practically bend abnormally close down to your level.

You gasp when you are left staring at milky white orbs and yellowed rotten teeth, “Save me.” The old man gasps and you scream.

END OF FLASHBACK

YOONGI POV

He hates you.

Well, he actually doesn’t.

He was annoyed, irritated, with the fact that you were hugging a man twice the size of the Sigma leader.

And he was a fucking dwarf compared to the guy’s bulging pectorals.

“YN?!”

He growls lowly, though the only people who heard were his brothers as you climb the big buffoon like he wanted you to climb his dick.

Something gnaws at his chest, straining, making his insides blaze with unbridled fury and bitterness as he witnesses how happy you looked, something he –they have never seen on you before.

And it hurts.

It fucking hurts.

“Guys, this is BM! He’s a good friend of mine!” You wave them over, glowing and positively beautiful that the twinge grows deeper, like a knife stabbed him in his lungs.

A friend? He’s never heard of this BM. Not until now. Dread fills his already fucked up emotional spectrum solely thanks to you.

Just how much of your life outside of them did they miss?

He glances at the others who mirror the same kind of trepidation as they all survey the gothic structure, the concrete seemingly intimidating even as they were used to grandeur.

There was something eerie about this place and if you had been working here for a long time right under their noses, he doesn’t even want to imagine what kind of horrors you faced.

And as you pull them all in to meet curious faces, he swallows, hiding his disdain as he realizes just how far away you were from them.

Fuck.

They fucked up.

Next chapter

Chapter taglist

@potaetopic@yoongiigolden@missseoulite@reallysparklychaos

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous chapter.

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Minor cussing, Implied self deprecration but very slight

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 4: The Fairy Godmother

FLASHBACK

Twiddling your thumbs inconspicuously wasn’t such a good idea after all as your employer’s sharp gaze pierces you right in your jaded soul.

You didn’t mean to sound so cynical and judging from his tells, Eugene wasn’t too happy with you, or at least with how you viewed yourself.

His manicured nails beckon you forward and you gulp, eyes darting to the pile in front of you– Eugene Lee Yang, tarot master and occultist, absolutely hatedit when his readings were disrupted but once you came in through his door looking for all the whole disgusting world like a damned drenched train wreck, eyes bugging out with tears leaking to your puffy cheeks, he pauses, red lips pinched looking for an explanation which you give.

You fidget in your seat by his raglan couch, the sign by the door right below the Yin Yang Quatro’s flashy neon label saying ‘Closed for business’, as you silently try to assess a quick look at the spread laid out on the table.

One death card and two other major arcana.

Whoever the client was, the universe was basically telling him or her to fuck off from the situation and just let things be.

Yikes.

“Baby girl, look at me. ” He gripes and you flinch, staring at his kohl rimmed eyes.

Your boss was a very hot man, and if he wasn’t gay you would have considered your options but he was happily married to a wonderful husband and you were stupidly in love with the seven banes of your existence.

Hence the tears.

“So you’re telling me, that those stupid boys left you to fend for yourself while you were sick in bed?” He hums when you nod your assent meekly, sharp jaw twitching with annoyance as his fingers tap lightly over his silk jacket. “Were they aware?”

You shake your head, “I mean I did send them a text but I was left on read. Maybe they were just busy or something. ”

Eugene snaps his narrowed gaze to you and you gulp. “Huh. Busy. So you were seriously completely alone?”

Another shake of the head. “Some friends took care of me back at my own apartment so…” You trail off unsure if throwing Taemin into the mix with his consent was okay.

Eugene may be fairly strict with the shop rules but when it came to his employees, you in particular, he was an overprotective mama bear and anyone–rather, any man’snamementioned by you was automatically on his watch list.

Your boss pretends to ignore the friend part for a moment, “I see. And you don’t think you deserve any of their attention when you’ve been nothing but a good friend and room mate to them?”

“That’s not–”

Eugene holds a hand up to shush you. “Not yet done speaking, doll.” He sighs. “YN, you know I despise little girls without any backbone. What, you don’t think you’re beautiful enough to be appreciated by a bunch of fuckboys? Bitch, you don’t need them. You don’t need their attitude. You’re a queen. Act like it. ” He sniffs daintily.

You give him a watery giggle and he smirks.

“Besides, if they so much as leave you high and dry one of these days, I will go to your house and castrate them inch by fucking inch.”

Nothing could compare to an angry Yang boss.

END OF FLASHBACK

“Who the fuck are you?” The Beta Tau Sigma member frowns, arms tightening around you as his brothers close in forming a protective ring around the both of you and your physical body peacefully settled on the hospital bed.

The visitor merely raises a perfect, delicate brow, canine teeth bared for a moment only to recede when his irises pierce yours, and as if a magnetic pull traps you, you subconsciously fly–float to the stranger. “ Eugene!” You bleat happily, arms looping around the man’s lean shoulders.

Today he was wearing a baby blue silk coat and long skirt, looking for all the world like a top runway model. His red lips land on your hairline. “Hello, doll.” He coos and everyone, the Min included, stands stock still as the dress you had been wearing shimmers in the light like an ethereal pixie.

“Holy shit. Was that YN?!” Jeongguk, the wide eyed buck that he was furiously looks to the space where you presumably stood and back to your body with mild hysterics until one of his hyung’s, Seokjin was it, lightly knocks him upside the head.

“But hyung she just–”

Seokjin frowns. “Yes we all saw. It’s just…difficult to wrap our heads around the thought that two YNs are here. ”

Jimin, having had dried his tears long ago speaks up with a much clearer voice directed at Eugene. “I’m sorry, but we’ve known YN since we were kids and I’m afraid we haven’t seen you around before…sir?” He hesitates contemplating whether he was using the correct gender noun.

A sharp laugh echoes within the cramped space of the hospital room, and the boys shift awkwardly, some seeming anxious at the tone the other man had taken.

You let go of your boss and reluctantly float back to the others, Yoongi snatching you up to his side, pushing you behind him with a grim stare at the newcomer.

You remember that Eugene isn’t dangerous to you.

But Eugene Lee Yang was dangerous to those he disliked.

And it appears your boys weren’t faring well in that department.

So with a grimace, you stick closer to Yoongi, ready to tug him just in case your boss decides to chuck his expensive shoes against someone’s head in his wrathful wake.

Of course he would be mad.

You couldn’t count the number of times he’d witnessed you cry over these men you were now trying to cover for.

With all the lip chewing you were immersed in, someone addresses the huge elephant rearing its trunk over all of you.

“That question aside, what is happening here–uh, sir?” Hoseok is quick to beat his brothers to the punch, although quite warily.

He wasn’t going to be disrespectful to possibly the only person who could give a fucking explanation to everything. He had a gut feeling that whoever this man was, was someone who could help YN and he wasn’t taking any chances just so YN can recover fast.

He didn’t think he could live another week without being blessed with your lovely smile.

He actually fucking missed you already even if you were right here in spirit.

Eugene quirks a brow but his lips curl up in a genuine smile directed at the resident sunshine, and although he knew that all of them contributed to a majority of YN’s sadness, this Hoseok was the least guilty from what he’s heard so far.

“Jung Hoseok I presume?” Eugene asks and the boy stammers out an affirmative response. “Charmed. Yes, well. Before I answer any of your questions, YN if you would?” He gestures to you and you reach for him despite Yoongi’s quiet protest.

He didn’t like you leaving him for some other man no matter who they are.

Two things happen simultaneously as soon as you touch the Yang boss’s hands.

You feel a heavy weight settle over you, as if you were being pulled down by gravity.

And then your bare foot touches the hard, cold, bleached tiles one after the other and you shiver with a soft squeak.

“HOLY SHIT YN?!”

A chorus of quaky gasps fill the air and then you are swept up into the nearest person’s arms, this time Taehyung’s.

You turn your smooshed cheeks from your holder and shoot a glance at the Yang boss with pure joy. “H-how?”

Eugene smiles at you gently. But then he sighs, the shadows appearing on his face aging him for a bit, a tick in his jaw forms and he rolls his eyes. “Doll, you know I’m magical. But that’s beside the point. ” He sharply claps his hands garnering command at everyone’s undivided scrutiny.

Eugene was like that. Commanding with his presence at every turn.

“Gentlemen, if you could, I would love to be invited to your home as we have much to talk about as regards YN’s current…state. ”

Namjoon, ever the leader steps forward almost in an unconscious manner as if to assert his dominance, “As long as it will help YN, we are willing to do anything. ”

Unexpectedly, the Yang boss doesn’t laugh, doesn’t mock them, only considers them for a moment and then looks at you. “I can see what you meant, darling.” You flush for some reason and they all turn to look at you but your boss clears his throat, and straightens. “We don’t have the luxury to waste any more time. For YN’s sake, I suggest we go now. Because as of this moment, I am your fairy godmother and she’s Cinderella. Once the clock strikes midnight, it’s poof. If you catch my drift.”

Faces pale at the insinuation.

Well shit.

Next chapter

GHOSTBUSTERS (M)

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose!Reader

Synopsis

For years now, you have loved the Beta Tau Sigma boys. But you thought it was unrequited. Until you were involved in a freak accident and your soul learns that that love may not be unrequited after all.

Main mlist.Previous chapter.

Warnings

Cheating but not really, angst, slight smut and sex dolls, frat parties, use of weed

A/N. To read the safe for work rest of this series, please proceed to my side blog @clutterfield.

YOONGI POV

The lights are low as the bass booms all over the large interior of the Beta Tau Sigma’s after party.

“Oh baby,” Yoongi moans as his cock throbs, pulses inside the woman’s throat, coating her tongue with his hot white release.

What was her name again? Jieun was it? Naeun? Fuck if he gave a damn. The only thing he remembered was getting high on weed and tugging some random chick to his bedroom.

And now here he was about to get laid but why the fuck was he feeling guilt gnawing like a vice at the back of his mind whenever he thought of your pretty face– he frowns as his dick goes limp too fast for his liking.

The woman’s tits come in full view as she attempts to go on all fours with the clear intention of submitting but then something snaps inside the frat member’s conscience and he stops here to her obvious disappointment. “Get out.” He remarks hastily pulling up his briefs and joggers, suddenly angry at himself, at the world for some odd reason or another and the woman squeaks, shocked and mortified as he none too gently drags her out and locks the door behind him once left alone.

He plops down onto his bed, black sheets still messy from a much earlier romp and he closes his eyes in frustration, slinging an arm over them, taking deep measured breaths to calm himself just as his therapist told him to do.

Grasping for his phone, he thumbs through the group chat and curses upon seeing that YN had asked if one of them could pick her up somewhere but didn’t receive any response. “We’re fucking assholes.” He grouses, throat raw as if wanting to cry.

Why did he want to cry anyway? Fuck, maybe he was too high on weed after all.

Where are you? He texts but after a few minutes, you don’t respond and his eyes flutter shut.

He doesn’t notice that the message failed to send.

SEOKJIN POV

“Where the fuck is everyone?” He gripes, in a sour mood as he balances a pan of freshly done tacos on one hand and his phone in the other.

He still had to check on the steak and his kitchen was already a fucking mess– some of the Sigma members had decided to crash his fridge and steal all the bottles of expensive bordeaux they could find and even graciously left stains on the counters -which he would be the one cleaning up for fuck’s sake!

A hand on his crotch surprises him enough to nearly drop the food tray and as he swivels to shout at the person, his lips are almost immediately assaulted with saliva and teeth, a little bit of spunk too. If he could guess, someone already shot their filthy disgusting load into her mouth.

He wondered why he ever allowed himself to eat her cunt once.

“Oppa, Yoongi-oppa was being mean to me…” Her nasally voice sticks to his skin unpleasantly and he shoves her off.

“Don’t fucking touch me. Who’s fucking girl are you anyways? Yoongi’s?”

Another pout and then Jimin and Taehyung jogs through the room, only to spot her.

“Yah, aren’t you Changbin’s?” Taehyung asks.

She shrugs, eyeing them like a feast and the two don’t hide their disgust. “Get the fuck out and go back to your boyfriend. ” Jimin grits his teeth and the girl huffs, heels clicking as she stalks out.

Seokjin merely raises a brow at them. “She’s been fucking everyone here I take it?”

Both maknaes nod and Seokjin sighs, pushing the tray for them to take. “I’ll be in the washroom scrubbing my mouth.”

NAMJOON POV

He remembers explicitly stating that no women were allowed in the house.

Not when YN was coming home any minute now.

They had forgotten to warn her that the Sigmas were having an annual gathering and he didn’t want to give YN the wrong idea that they disrespected her in any way.

She was family (well more than that…at least to him anyway as he couldn’t speak for the others), this was also her house and he wasn’t a fuckboy enough to subject her to what the fuck ever goes on when one of them brings in women.

He sees Jeongguk pass by, a pack of cigarettes in hand and he stops him. “Guk, who the fuck gave that hussy permission to be here?” He eyes Lee Jieun, all dressed up in the shortest little black dress, breasts hanging out and butt cheeks exposed laughing at the group playing poker by the pool.

Jeongguk squints and growls, “Why the fuck is she here?”

Namjoon steps back an inch, surprised at the younger man’s sudden intense dislike for her. “You know her?”

Jeongguk gives a grim smile, “Yeah, she’s the one who keeps on bullying YN at her workplace. ” He then stares at the leader curiously, “So she hasn’t slept with you, huh?”

“What do you mean she bullies YN?” Namjoon frowns, not liking where this was going. “And fuck no. I wouldn’t even fucking touch her with a ten foot pole. She screams STD for fuck’s sake.” He points out just in time as someone’s tongue touches hers in a horrific public display.

Jeongguk grimaces. “Well good for you, hyung. We were all drunk once and bam, my cock’s inside a loose pussy. I don’t know about the others but that’s how it went for me. ” He grunts. “We all had to get tested at some point because of her. Who invited her anyway? should I call security?”

“No need. I got this.”

Both men turn to see Hoseok, obviously having just woken up from his nap on the couch and heard bits and pieces of the conversation. “And Guk, is it true she bullies our YN?”

“Yeah, hyung. I had to step in one time. Looks like the bitch hasn’t learned her lesson at all.” He gripes.

Hoseok’s eyes turn murderous, the deadly quiet daunting. “Well. Whoever brought her in will not be part of the Beta Tau Sigma once I’m done.” He looks to the leader for affirmation, the latter giving his consent.

Hoseok smiles. This will be fun.

JIMIN POV

He furrows his brows. “Hey, Taetae, why is YN-noona asking us to come pick her up? Didn’t she take her car?”

Taehyung looks up from his food, mouth stuffed full like a squirrel preparing for winter. “Yeah?”

Before any of them can even respond to your chat, a piercing screech fills the air and they look out down below to watch as Hoseok grips Changbin’s slut to the gates. A couple of the guards take her from their hyung and shut the metal grates in her screaming face.

Jimin whistles impressed as the rain drowns out her screams.

He loved tits, adored them really and that cunt did have great globes but it couldn’t compare to YN’s soft tender ones, the only time he’d had a chance to touch them was when she accidentally fell on his lap and scramble off.

It was great. She was great. And he missed her.

Was she coming home now?

He would have to lead her through the side entrance so she wouldn’t be privy to the men around here.

Seven of them were enough after all.

TAEHYUNG POV

He hurriedly guzzles down the wine as Namjoon calls for a meeting downstairs.

With a swift look at his twin, they take the stairs one at a time in a leisurely pace, knowing that shit was about to go down.

He however tries to call you discreetly as he lazily watches Changbin plea for mercy from being ousted from the frat house much like his whore had been, and by the looks of it, he knew he won’t be changing his hyung’s mind.

His call goes through voicemail. Strange.

“Your girlfriend was bullying YN.”

Huh? What does that–

“No, she’s not my girlfriend, I swear! She’s just a past hook up!” Changbin bleats nervously. He was on his knees before them, and Taehyung gets even more confused when Yoongi pops out of nowhere, expression feral and decidedly more sober than the last hour he’d seen him.

“Your fucking hook up spiked my fucking drink with drugs you asshole. ” He grumps, wrist swinging a suspicious looking package before throwing it at Namjoon whose eyes narrow as he goes to sniff and inspect the box. “Weren’t we clear on what goes and what stays here? Recreational weed is the limit, none of the other fucked up stuff.”

“Sorry but can we go back to the bullying YN part?” Seokjin pipes up, gliding through the room like the Dionysus he was, eyes so intense that most of the men shrink under his presence.

Changbin seems to zone in on himself as the other guys exchange furtive glances. “I-I can give you a copy of the video someone took.” He offers feebly to save face.

The seven members of Bangtan freeze.

“Video? What video?” Hoseok grouses, ready to throw fists.

“Uh, some people from Uni caught Jieun and her friends throwing coffee at YN–Miss YN,” he corrects himself at the glare he receives, “a few times. I think they wanted to take it to the school board but I heard the board did nothing so it just fizzled out.” He gives them his phone and sure enough, the evidence is plenty as a few people crowd around it.

Bangtan growls when they hear YN hiss, clutching her hands meekly.

It is then that Jeongguk steps forward, cracking his knuckles. He was going to murder them. “Those old bastards, huh?”

Taehyung hums as everyone turns to him, “I know the school director. I can take those copies directly to him.”

Namjoon nods as he tosses the phone to Taehyung. “Do that, Taehyung-ah. In the meantime, what will we do with you Changbin?” He taps his chin in contemplation and as Taehyung beckons Jeongguk to go make copies of the vidoes, they hear a sharp slap echo and then the clanking of broken metal, signifying that someone’s ring had been snapped in half, probably by Yoongi.

“Dude deserves it.” Jeongguk huffs.

Taehyung thinks that was too merciful.

No one hurts you, their YN. Not even indirectly.

JEONGGUK POV

He was fucking spent.

Panting, his hand is thick with his release as he comes down from the best orgasm he had had in awhile.

He didn’t mean to look into it.

It was just there among the videos as he tried make multiple copies all at once.

You were in swim class, in a fucking one piece bathing suit, all pink and soft and peachy, lips tinted with slight gloss (how the fuck did you manage not to look like a drowned rat compared to others?), and he just lost it.

But once he’s come to his senses, he sees green. Why the fuck did Changbin’s phone have a video of you in swim class? Were there others like this being leaked?

If there was, it was a serious invasion of your privacy and he didn’t like it one bit.

HOSEOK POV

It was fucking three in the morning and Hoseok was embarassingly balls deep inside his sex doll.

After the debacle with Changbin and Changbin’s whore, he and the guys had a round of alcohol and now he was fucking horny as hell.

It’s not like he was depraved.

It was just that his sex doll looked a lot like you, his YN.

“Ugh, fuck, baby doll,” he mutters as he cums a whole load, mouth attaching to almost life like breasts – your breasts– hips eratic and wanting for more.

He spends the next few hours calling your name.

He wakes up in the morning sated.

And then he gets up, a horrific realization coming to light.

They had never checked in on you after all that had happened. Did you even get home safe?

He runs to your room and knocks on your door. No answer.

Fuck.

Fuck!

They were in fucking trouble.

Don’t. (m) | ONE-SHOT | KIM NAMJOON, 4.7k

Pairing:Reader x Namjoon

Summary:He was right. You don’t spend time like this with the others, you don’t sleep with the others. You don’t… And because your thoughts begin to bleed into a dangerous territory, one that resembles feelings, you pre-empt it. “You’re being reckless.”

Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language, smut (fem-reader; fingering; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; but this is v v angsty sex); mega mega ANGST; basically, I oscillate between having tortuous romanic feelings for Namjoon in this capacity or writing him as a god among men in smutty one-shots using his dimples as a plot device, unfortunately this time it’s the former and I will therefore make it everyone’s issue; there’s crying during sex except they’re the ones having sex and it’s actually me who’s crying ha; pwp, as in ‘porn with pheelings’ (the bad kind); if there are errors, I apologise in advance (I was crying, remember?) + please do proofread in your mind as you read haha; the reader is an (implied) escort; non-idol!AU - Chaebol!Namjoon.

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Dkfjlghdskfg ummm, this is very angsty and has a lot of pain in it :]

I was listening to Don’t(eAeon ft. RM) and I was like, huh, what if I wrote something based on that and the vibe of the song but make it 1000x more painful???? And because there is no one to stop me, least of all myself lmao, here we are! :D

Lastly, I would say happy reading but that would be a bit counterintuitive, oops

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-

Teheran-ro or Teheran Valley, as it’s colloquially called, has skyscrapers closer to heaven than the ground. Its windows, uniform and neat, blaze blue, yellow, phosphorescent white. The lights on the ground, headlights of expensive cars, the red tail lights of swaying buses, they follow a straight path up (or down, depending on where you look).

It’s Gangnam, it’s in your face, and it’s reckless.

You knew Namjoon was being idiotic when he picked the grand master suite.

And you knew that he was being totally ludicrous when he offered to walk in together, taking the elevators from the lobby up and up, rocketing to the right floor.

The doors, with in-laid gold, slide open, even the way the air smells here is expensive. You’re still deciding whether to be infuriated or not. He’s being thoughtless on purpose.

Still, you follow him as he shortened his strides, his hand near yours but never touching. Not under the prying eyes of the cameras on the ceiling, nor the unassuming guests meandering the hallways either. You weren’t one to risk an outburst, no, the room would be vast enough for that.

The room would be accommodating for a real conversation; for someclarity to the way Namjoon’s behaving.

It’s quiet, few words are exchanged with the hotelier. You stare at the back of his head, the neatly trimmed line where it fades into tan. There’s a mole at the nape, it’s small but it’s there. That helps focus you a little, helps you ground things into reality. It leads to the intimidating heft of his wool overcoat, the hem is closer to his ankles, its shoulders are a blunt slope.

The door appears rather unceremoniously, the hotelier explains that you simply need to scan a card. Namjoon is gracious and asks a few questions about the room, its theme, the construction. The hotelier manages them swiftly, also pointing out that there were various, personalised items awaiting him.

It’s an honour for someone of the Kim Group to be staying with us and his, uh, guest of course.

As the said guest, you try and hold back a snort as Namjoon laughs. That superficial laugh that he does when he has to represent his family. In this context, you’re nameless, akin to an acquaintance, barring the fact that it’s just you and you’re staying in a hotel suite that models as a decently-sized, luxury apartment.

It takes an age before the hotelier leaves. He’s giving you a brief tour of the space when you notice the folded bathrobe with monogrammed initials, the same gold cursive is found on the corner of the pillows. You see his initials and yours. The gold greets you as soon as you make it past the threshold, floor to ceiling windows giving way to the city. It’s prettier from above, you feel less of an ant.

“We have room service at any time, if you press the designated button here,” the hotelier instructs.

You were sure that he didn’t mean to be condescending in the information he imparts but it’s evident in his tone that he knew he had to pivot. Namjoon smiles politely. It’s polite because he doesn’t show teeth, so his dimples a pressed deeper, his eyes curving up in this faux display of satisfaction.

The bedroom is, by normal standards, huge.The bed rivals it, taking up most of the wall, flanked by floating nightstands, softly lighting its vicinity. Namjoon has shrugged off his coat, his suit is tailored, his tie is a deep burgundy. A final instruction comes in the form of a menu, for what, you didn’t care for. You were burning holes into Namjoon with your stare.

It seems that he can feel it too by the way he’s scratching the nape of his neck, his muscles moulding the sleeve of that expensive suit. He’s wearing the cufflinks you gifted him, it’s a personal gift, his initials were on it in a subtle emboss. The hotelier flits his gaze between you both, his smile is strained. Namjoon picks up the cue and thanks him, noting his name at the same time.

He leaves, disappearing round the corner with haste.

And just like that, you’re left alone.

Seconds transpire as Namjoon sheds his layers, not saying anything at all. You’re still in your coat, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“What?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at your face as he tilts his head.

“Why did you do that?”

He rests his elbows on top of his knees, webbing his fingers loosely, “it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

Namjoon was many things. He was diplomatic, discrete, intelligent. He was raised with all the right tools to take over a company and lead by example. He knew how to operate within certain boundaries and he was clear on yours. He was someone who would heed caution. It didn’t suit him to be so brash.

“I have other clients - this won’t look good for either of us.”

The distance between you remains, an impossible gulf of three paces. You stand, arms crossed, wary.

“I’m not like your other clients.”

He was right. You don’t spend time like this with the others, you don’t sleepwith the others. You don’t…

And because your thoughts begin to bleed into a dangerous territory, one that resembles feelings,you pre-empt it.

“You’re being reckless.”

He considers your criticism for a minute. You stare at each other, the space between oddly stretching. It’s adversarial.

“My father wants me to marry.”

You waver a little, startled by his candour. Marriage was inevitable, sure. It came with his responsibilities, neatly packaged, awaiting him when the time comes. The extravagance begins to make sense and Teheran Valley reveals its talons in the night. It’ll be witness to the last tryst before you part ways. It won’t be so bad, you think, this Presidential suite view on Seoul.

The truth sits uncomfortably between you, the fickle nature of this arrangement.

“That’s good then. You’re finally going to settle.”

Namjoon glares at you with as much vitriol as he could manage. You knew because he juts his jaw out slightly, the tip of his tongue resting on his molars.

“I want to marry you.

Stubbornness was also his trait. It’s how he’s managed to live under the oppressive shadow of his father. But that led to a lack of foresight and a lack of understanding of reality as it unravels. He’s always been like that, a bit naive and a lot more hopeful than most. Yet, he can still make you smile, despite it all.

“We can’t have that, can we?” You asked, closing the distance in slow strides, taking your time to shed your coat. The air conditioner bites your skin, his eyes survey your body, tracing it under the silken satin. Blue was his colour and he loved it on you.

His hands steady you as you straddle him, arms looping over his neck, leaning back to see him up close. Besides the tan, his skin is dotted with tiny moles, an irregular constellation that wouldn’t make him Namjoon without. There’s some stubble that you scratch, the pad of your thumb on the sharp bristles, they poke out of his smooth skin in jagged spears. They felt better between your thighs. And his eyes, the ones he hated for a while because of the shape, they’re hooded, I hate them.

But you could never muster the same sentiment. It’s different when you’re the admirer, you don’t have the capacity to hate as you would do if it was yourself. Your finger traces his jaw, a smooth slope, tapering at his chin, his features are harmonious, his hair, cropped short. It’s carefully styled now since he came straight from a meeting. It feels better when caught between your fingers, short strands tugged at his scalp, eliciting that deep, grunt that you tell yourself only you can bring out.

Your examination doesn’t halt just because he begins to close his eyes, tilting his head so, a silent hint for a kiss. He gets like this when you’re alone, he gets docile when he doesn’t have to be a thousand personas at once.

(Someone who’s good at his job, someone who’s a good son, someone who’s a good friend, someone who’s a good person.)

Namjoon’s scent is cool. It sits on his clothes nicely. Your nose skims his neck to make the most of the subtle fragrance. Clean and impeccably memorable. His fingers, a steady pressure, slender then curved on your hips, hold you against him, his lips lightly pressing on yours.

It doesn’t take much for you to close your eyes, giving in to him.

(It doesn’t take much when it’s Namjoon, in any case.)

As his lips initiated that shy kiss, he delivers a reverent murmur against them. He says your name, a breathy whisper, his fingers clutching at your back, wrinkling your dress, corrugating the spine of buttons, the fabric tightening around your middle. You sigh softly, pushing closer, grinding your hips to rid yourself of the obvious flutter in your chest. No one is capable of that.

Only him.

But that admissions stays within the walls. In this lonely suite in the middle of Gangnam, high up in a hotel in the middle of street that makes its visitors envious.

When you were young, you were drawn to places with bright lights. You wanted the big city, you wanted it all. But the series of choices you made shaped your path to curve away from the utopia you envisioned, and here you are, far too close to the sun and it burns.

This unbearable heat that, you swear, renders you instinctual. You grab at him, letting your body lead you away from your burgeoning feelings because it’s unfair.

It’s unfair that someone else will walk up that aisle.

It’s unfair that he’ll spend the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you.

It’s unfair that you look at him with love but can’t say it out loud.

It’s unfair that his kiss sticks in the back of your mind, its ghost whispering on your lips in moments of quiet insanity.

“Tell me not to do it and I won’t,” he murmurs, he says it on your mouth, the slip of his tongue is all too distracting, the strength of his arms holding you so that you feel like you’re not entirely boneless. And you think that he’s always been like this. Too pliant, too willing to let you have a say in his life. But the responsibility of making his choices falls heavy on your shoulders, you can’t decide for him as he can’t decide for you. It’s the way the shape of your life has panned out. Namjoon’s path is pristine and predictable, yours is jagged and tumultuous. You envisage that it’s fate’s funny way of bringing you to your knees when all you wanted was to rise up and live.

“I can’t let you do that,” you replied, shoving his jacket off him, the heat of his muscles is immense, it blazes through the cotton of his shirt. You’re surprised that you still sound put together as he tries to fumble at the buttons behind you. They’re clasped tightly on the dress, he almost growls out his frustration, half attempting to tear the whole thing. He deepens the kiss, curls an arm around your waist, lifting you briefly so that you’re on your back. He doesn’t stray for long, reuniting with you in mere seconds, the weight of him is forever pleasant, welcomed.

You miss it already.

(You miss it all the time.)

“Tell me, just tell me,” he begs, tugging at your heart as you yank up your dress. He kisses you languidly, trying to persuade, trying to make sense of it as you were. You shake your head, gasping slightly as he mouths on your neck, you see the pillows as you give him access, your skin burning from him.

“No, I can’t. I can’t,” you repeated, hearing the undoing of his belt, the audible rush of his shirt leaving his body. You wait for him because it never takes long, and he kisses you attentively, makes you feel important, wanted.And because he’s still Namjoon, he still remembers, he takes your words in spite of how they end up spearing you both.

“I know,” he mumbles, placing his hand under the space between your back and the bed. You’re still in the dress, clad in this satin midnight that contrasts with the white sheets. At least you know that the farewell isn’t desire, you feel it in the way you grasp at him, moaning softly as his tongue licks at your mouth. You feel it in the way he slides your dress up, his broad palms and long fingers on your thighs, still treating you with as much care as he did the first time.

Namjoon was still nervous then. He never told you but it was probably because it wasn’t like him to form affection for someone like you. It was meant to be a one time thing anyway, so usual for people like him that his colleagues wanting to get in his father’s good books arranged it for him. You met him under the blue lights of a VIP room. You met him in an underground member’s club. He was still wet behind the ears, his eyes darting to the exit.

I’m sorry, was what he said.

It’s okay, was what you replied.

He didn’t touch you until the fifth meeting. Even then he was fumbling and apologising with each touch. It started with a hand over yours, an accidental brush that had him withdrawing as if your skin was a burning plate. That was easily overlooked. You didn’t know why you kept seeing him. You didn’t know why you didn’t tell him that you never slept with your clients. He figured that out along the way, a small smile playing on his lips as you came out of the shower, your skin raw from the water.

What?You asked, towelling your hair with care.

Nothing,he replied, taking the towel from you and proceeding to do what you have done for yourself for as long as you can remember.

(He still does this on occasion. His fingers, usually brutish and responsible for his clumsy nature of breaking things, lose that edge, combing the wet strands near your scalp to the end.)

His fingers find you wet, you gasp in his mouth as he slides a digit in, his thumb rubbing and rubbing.

“J-joon.”

He kisses you to soothe. The heat ripples through you, transforming into this fortified sensation of pleasure, the satin of your dress turns meddlesome and restrictive. He notices, bracing you against him to curl his fingers over the fabric, pulling out of you once to rip it to shreds. The gasp that comes out of you is sharp as numerous buttons snapped from their place; he swipes them hurriedly. Your skin pebbles from your cold, your nipples turning stiff as you’re exposed. He takes a moment to look down at you, his fingers glisten from your arousal that you rub your thighs together, anything to allay the emptiness. He shoves his trousers down, his underwear too, and it’s bliss, the way your skin feels on his. He supports himself, just enough to look at you, his fingers entering you once more without much ceremony. You throw your head back, lost in it, fisting the sheets below. He drags his mouth along your neck, sending wet kisses that trail your jaw, the filthy swipe of his tongue in your mouth. Your hands yank at his hair, enough to make him groan.

So what if you tug a little harder?

So what if there’s some malice in that act?

His fingers pump inside you, taking advantage of the wetness that drip from your velvet walls. He crooks them in the right way, reaching that spot that has your toes curling, your arms pulling him down because you needed to kiss him, you needed his taste, you needed to know that he’s real.

No sooner than you began, he begins to talk, although his voice is strained, “I have a place in Jeju. It’s next to a small store,” he starts. You’re desperate for the friction to take you higher, your thighs quiver as he holds you down, the heel of his palm connecting harshly where it counts that your body shudders fully.

“W-we can’t,” you whispered, your hips moving on their own in tight swivels, so wet between your thighs that it’s audible.

And because he never listens to you when you want him to, he carries on, “I can man the place, you don’t have to do anything.”

It’s followed by a deeper plunge of his fingers, your moans dying on the crook of neck as you try and fight the inescapable sadness that plagues you as he talks of a future that is shapeless, a future that bears the texture of wishful thinking.

“We shouldn’t,” you faltered, feeling too warm, too good to think straight, “youshouldn’t talk about that.”

He kisses you again, harder this time, you feel him going faster, it sounds lewd, how his fingers piston inside you, so much so that you’re moaning in his mouth, close, so close. Neither of you talk for a while as he brings to you the edge, knowing how you liked it, knowing everything about you.

It’s even possible to think that he knows how much you wanted that.

He keeps going after you came, until you’re pushing him away, wanting something more substantial, wanting the feel of him inside. And when he’s kneeling on the bed, sheathing himself before pushing in, you think that this is one of the last times you’ll be together, like this. The thought gives you an ache in your chest that renders your breathing to be choppy, holding onto him with a kind of desperation in the form of your nails on the muscles of his back.

“You don’t want to?” He asked, starting a slow rhythm, but there’s force behind his thrusts, filling you to the hilt. It’s not disconcerting, it’s right. Neither of you cared if you come away a little battered or bruised, if this is the last time, you wanted it to feel real.

As real as how much it hurt.

You don’t answer simply because you can’t. Namjoon is exceptionally well-versed in your body, he knows the cues you inadvertently give, down to the cadence of your breath when he’s doing something right.

“With me?” He asks, his voice shaking as you clenched around him. You shake your head, holding your breath as he bottoms out again, you feel so full that your legs start to shake. The pleasure makes you wade through it, finding a semblance of enjoyment despite the severity of his questions. Sweat makes you both slippery, the heat radiating off him is addictive, his lips, plush and flanked by dimples every time he genuinely smiles, his laugh, how it starts off small then grows into something unlike his speaking voice, you kiss him to push those feelings away.

It’s not that I don’t want to, you think.

But instead you hear yourself saying, “It’s not that simple.”

He grips your hip with one hand as he curls his arm above your head. Like that, your effectively caged, snug between him and the bed. His thrusts quicken to at point that you’re nearly unable to keep up, your moans mixing with how he groans as your inner muscles pulse over him. Resilient as ever, he slides his tongue against yours, biting your bottom lip, sucking and licking it that your toes curl in pleasure.

“Itis,” he insists, his kisses turning tender all of the sudden, you reel from it, tugging at the shorter hair on the back of his head, nipping at his bottom lip this time, your legs hitching higher. He moans in your mouth, his hand at the back of your knee, stretching you open that you shiver as the side of your knee meets the bed, your hips angle in a way that sends sparks along your body.

“You’re asking for things that I can’t give - you’re father’s not going to be happy.”

His hips stop for a second, he lets out a frustrated grunt, pushing you up further till you’re pushed to the pillows, he dips his head, his kiss is soft, too soft for these circumstances. Something takes a hold in your chest, the warmth is almost too much to contain, your arms around his neck, your chest pressed agains his, the hard planes of his muscles over your soft skin. He gives you another kiss, one on the corner of your mouth, starting to thrust again, groaning as you tightened in response.

“I’m not happy.”

You sighed in his mouth, eyes shutting for fear that when you open them, the tears will come and never stop. The pleasure becomes confusing because apart from the physical response of your bodies coming together like this, everything else hurts.

“Can we pretend?” He asks, letting out a shuddering breath. You’re close and you feel that he is too.

“We are,” you replied, holding onto him.

We always have been.

He groans as you tilt your hips, allowing him to go deeper. You gasped as he braced you against the bed, the air is heady, thick with anticipation.

“Up to this point, I haven’t been. Tell me you’re the same,” he says.

You almost indulge him but its superseded by the feeling that you didn’t want to unearth things you wanted to keep from him. It angers you acutely that you dig your heels on the back of his thighs, pressing him down, pressing forcefully, having him so deep that your words fail you. Everything is so wet, your sweat on your skin, your arousal mixing with his, dripping onto the sheets.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” you reprimand, sighing as he grinds his hips, prolonging friction. You encourage him by rubbing his neck, squeezing the muscles on the nape, he closes his eyes, leaning again, capturing your lips.

“Stop holding back,” he responds, pinning your wrists above your head. You inhaled sharply, totally restricted as he pulls his hips back only to plunge them again. You whimpered, tucking your head, seeing where you’re connected, the sight making you moan.

But it’s never that simple for you. It never has been and you decide then to say it, to make him face reality.

“Use me.”

Because that’s what I can do for you.

“W-what?” He falters, sounding bewildered.

But it doesn’t take much for him to figure it out. He always does when he looks at you in the eye.

“That’s what -”

The realisation makes you push through, gritting your teeth as he delivers a brutal thrust in anticipation of what you were going to say, he bares his teeth, hissing as you shiver, it travels down your core, your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice. His eyes blaze a warning.

“Don’t fucking say it - don’t.”

If he was going to be insistent, if he was going to dream up these fanciful scenarios, if he was doing this knowing how hard it was for you too, you could look him in the eye as he pleads with his.

“That’s what you’ve paid me for.”

He buries his face against the crook of your neck and you cling onto him, letting the pleasure wash over you in ripples.

“It’s not like that anymore.”

You dig your nails on his back, the cord snapping suddenly as you came. It’s painful at the end as you take him over the edge too. You bury your feelings as you muffle your moans agains this mouth in this messy kiss, full of yearning. What he said may be the truth but it doesn’t matter. Neither of you talk as your bodies sought to expel all that was left unsaid, your hair sticks your neck, your temples, he groans as you shake, sensitised from the slew of emotions that you never expected this evening. It’s final, you both knew that.

A while later, when he pulls away from you, carrying you to the shower, and handles you as if it was all other times, you still don’t talk. You stare at each other in the dimness as Gangnam, with all its luxurious possibilities, limits your freedom to the suite. He tangles his fingers in your hair, you grasp at his arm, and you kiss because you simply couldn’t fathom it.

And when morning comes, you’re tired, your dress is in a heap with his suit.

Arrangements are made for new clothes. There’s room service and you eat in silence, eyes avoiding each other in the light. There’s a staleness in the air as you check out, body and mind weary. His lingering touch, as he leads you all the way up to the door of your apartment, leaves you with a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix. But it’s the image of his back, his frame clad in a grey suit, his powerful strides reduced to a timid lope. His hand at the side of the elevator as he gives you one last look, those eyes that you’ve come to love so much were red, like yours.

That’s what you remember.

Months later, you’re in your apartment. The news reports of his wedding. It’s extravagant and his wife is beautiful. You don’t lower the volume, facing it head on while you think back to the first time, when he slept on the chair of the hotel while you were in the bed. Then you think back to when you grew comfortable with each other, learnt each other’s wants and needs. You think back to that one night, he said something and blamed it on the slip of the tongue. To be fair, you were both tired, drunk on the atmosphere of Jeju, coddled in the sheets, the villa yours for two weeks to pretend to be whoever you wanted to be. It was three words delivered quickly, breathlessly. You felt bad for not saying it back, mindful of what it all meant, this temporariness of what you had together. Yet after, you were softer with him and his acceptance of your guarded affection signalled that he knew.

Perhaps it’s because it had been there all along. From the moment you laid eyes on Namjoon, your face feeling all too warm under the blue lights as he rattled on about introductions. He was apologetic that he had to leave a some sort of monetary consideration after the end of the evening. Despite nothing happening, you talked and you forgot who you were. The difference was that it wasn’t a sense of escapism, all the armour you wore was hung on the hook at the door of that hotel for the duration of the night. You learned that those things didn’t matter to you so much when you saw his sleeping face, cramped in the way he slept on the chair. All that really mattered that night was that when he fell asleep first, you fell in love first. That was the last thought you had before eventually falling asleep too.

You wanted to be different to him. And it did end up being like that because he made it feel okay to revisit yourself beneath all the layers you scaffold over yourself. One time, as you laid side by side, holding hands, you told him about your dreams of wanting more than what you have.

It’s silly, never mind. I’m sorry.

It’s not silly. Tell me all of it, I want to hear it.

Persuaded, you told him all of it and he listened. He made it feel real.

As the news nears the end, an image of him appears on the screen. Namjoon smiles that polite smile you’re so familiar with, no teeth and it doesn’t reach his eyes. You watch until the next program rolls over, afraid of the stillness of your apartment. The night arrives and you lay in bed, eyes wide awake. You laugh suddenly, more of a puff of breath than anything, realising that fate was never more cruel than it was now.

You fall asleep like that, hollow and yearning. Those three words stuck at the back at your throat, waiting to be said to someone who’s no longer there.


masterlist (I) | masterlist (II)

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pairing: scientist!Namjoon x f!reader
genre(s): smut, angst, drama, mystery, slight horror
au(s): based on Frankenstein
word count: 460 words for the teaser
warnings (teaser only): mentions minor character death
rating:18+

summary:Kim Namjoon had always been a curious child, with a strong desire to understand the world. After a tragedy strikes his family Namjoon is left heartbroken. Grieving, he seeks to create a companion in the most unorthodox way. But what happens when the very life he created turns against the master whom she was supposed to love?

a/n: i’m still working on the hyung line classic lit stories! this one is quickly spiraling out of control, so I’m just sharing this to keep myself accountable bc I need to finish this damn fic. I’ve already written and deleted so much from it T_T this also very unedited

Taglist:@miscelunaaa@shameless-army@firesighgirl@sunshinerainbowsbts@seokjinger-ale​ (lmk if you still want to be tagged for the final story!)

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The rain pummeled against the window, striking the glass panes with such brazen force that Namjoon thought his whole studio would shudder and splinter underneath the weight of tonight’s storm. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he lets out a deep breath, one he did not even know he’d been holding for the past few years. It was done. 

A crack followed his sigh, like a bone being set into place, and then a great groan, and his creation sprung to life. Namjoon stood there, paralyzed, the awe beginning to melt away, and shock and horror setting in as he took in the sight of this new being. It was a woman, and yet it was not. For every feature he’d selected, eyes, lips, nose, and everything that was beautiful in its own right, fit together in the most grotesque of ways, and instantly his heart plummets. This was no human. This was nothing worthy of his love, or the labor he’d undertaken for the past two years. The empty void that had settled in his chest after his mother’s passing grew wider and wider, and Namjoon watches all his hopes and dreams become swallowed by the gaping vortex.

A bead of sweat trickles down his neck, escaping underneath his shirt, and Namjoon turns on his heel, running out of the room.

Panicked, he closes the door behind him, rushing across the hall to his own bed, drawing the scratchy covers over his head. His eyes flutter, willing for sleep to claim his restless frame, but it never comes. Instead, he lies awake, the pounding of his heart melding with the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, creating a haunting rhythm to represent the doom that has begun to loom over the house.

A loud crack jolts Namjoon awake from his miserable sleep - the lightning illuminating the room in a silvery glow, and there, at the foot of his bed -– the figure of the being he’d created! Round eyes, if they could even be called so, staring at him curiously, like a lost child. Mouth moving as though it was trying to speak, but no sounds escaped. 

Namjoon softens at the sight of the poor creature, looking lost and confused. He reaches out towards it, hands shaking, and nearly jumps when he feels two leathery palms take his hand in between them. His heart thrums at the gentle display, amazed at how soft-natured the creature was, despite its extraordinary appearance.

Tightening his hand in the creature’s, he realizes that he cannot give up now. This dream, this vision, it must be worth something. For the beauty of creation lied not in the dazzling appearance of things themselves, but their ability to provide hope.

“I shall call you ___.”

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#bts fanfiction    #bts au    #bts fic    #bts fanfic    #bts scenarios    #bts reactions    #bts fics    #bts imagines    #bts angst    #bts smut    #bts x reader    #namjoon    #kim namjoon    #namjoon x reader    #namjoon x you    #namjoon smut    #rm smut    #rm angst    #namjoon angst    #namjoon fic    #namjoon imagine    #rm fic    #rm imagine    #rm x reader    #rm fics    #rm imagines    #namjoon fics    #namjoon imagines    

becomingbts:

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights, the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she had believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

Genre:Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series, NSFW.  

Taglist closed!

13.3k (lol).

Warnings: Angst, toxic relationship, toxic behavior, mention of physical violence and yelling, abusive relationship, near death experience.

NOTE: Hello everyone! Welcome to the 13th chapter of Time Heals! This took a long time to come out but as you can see, it’s LONG LMAO! We’re going through Jimin’s diary (I almost cut this part in two because that was a ride) so expect to read a lot of things… We’re getting a bit of backside story! (Y/N) will have a lot of questions for Jungkook though haha! Please tell me your thoughts, I hope you enjoy it!!! Take well care everyone, love you lots hehe

part 12 - here - part 14

Keep reading

I just read something and I would like an explanation for all the things I’m feeling because I’m not good at identifying my emotions. Over 13K words and I’m ready to commit several murders. YNie is so valid. When you want something for years and you finally get a chance of getting it, you hesitate because what if it’s not what you truly wanted? That fear sucks all the good things out of someone. And YN has every right to feel that way. Her pain, hurt, jealousy, despair, even fear…all of it hurt me so badly. Her feelings regarding the diary and the situation itself destroyed me. The kind of pain when you cannot even cry. I couldn’t cry. I thought finding more about the boys’ situation would soften the anger I held for them but honestly? I’m furious now. I’m so confused, I have to wait for you to write it so I can decide what to feel because I’m fucking confused and angry and hurt. But one thing I know is that if I had that Yungsun bitch here, I would do some rather awful things to her. If I’m sure of something it’s that she’d be dying by my hands if I had the chance. I’m shaking. Fake tattoos? Fake personality? Fake identity? FAKE MEDICAL BOND? OH MY LOKI I’M GOING TO TEAR HER APART. Fucking psychopath “fell in love”. That bitch. Fuck, I’m so angry, damn it.

I shall not be making any comments regarding the idiot squad because I’m not sure how to feel. Although, I have softened towards Yoongi and Jungkook. Even though I read Jimin’s pov, I still think he’s a bitch but I think I’m kind of understanding all of them. Does not excuse their actions towards YN but at least I know why they’re so pathetically fucked up. I just remembered “hope shining through their orbs” when YN takes the journal and pardon my french but what? Since when are they hopeful that she’ll understand? Is this their way of being with JK more often? Or what? I don’t trust that hope tbh. Fight me on it, idiot squad.

Dolly, you fucking destroyed me here. I’m not joking, I’m feeling so many things I really should wait for you to write YN’s reaction so I can react as well. LEAD ME TOWARDS THE RIGHT PATH, MY LEADER! Damn, was it good. I’m still tingling. And shaking. And cursing a little bit but oh, well. I loved everything about this. Except that liar. I hope she’s in prison for at least identity theft, and at most almost destroying the bond because if the bonds are so important there must be laws against psychopaths who deceive bonded people. Wow I’m getting angry again. I better go.

You’re the fucking best. I love you. Take care, my sweet! Sending all the love and appreciation I can fit in this post! Mpwuah!

Genre: fluff? | enemies to friends to lovers au | college au

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader 

Warnings: my bad writing and my bad drawing,,, | English is not my first language

Summary: you’re starting your first year of college and you’ve never had a boyfriend before. Your brother Jungkook finds three love letters you wrote to your childhood (Jimin), middle school (Namjoon) and high school (Jin) crushes and sends them out. Little did he know all of them were attending the same college as you.

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Love. Was there something better than love? You honestly didn’t think so. The idea of loving someone and being loved in return was the source of your inner and more secret desires. Holding hands, whispering sweet nothings to each other, hugging and kissing, sharing a lifetime with your soulmate was all your heart had ever desired. Love was everything to you and, as a famous poet once said, love was so powerful it could move the sun and all the other stars. Love was the essence of the Universe.

‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’

You giggled again, tugging the book you were reading closer to your face. No matter how many times you had read that same passage, your heart still fluttered every time your eyes landed on it. You had underlined that exact passage so many times that the page was now slightly worn out. How many times had you wished to receive those words? You sighed, rereading the passage once again. In truth, you knew that passage by heart.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re reading Pride and Prejudiceagain?”

The voice of your brother startled you and you snapped out of your intense daydreaming. You closed your book and glared at him. “Get out,” you snarled at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and, uninvited, sat on your bed. “I will never understand how obsessed you can be with this Mr. Darky.”

“It’s Mr. Darcy!”

He shrugged, “whatever.” He then looked around your room and slowly whistled, “this is an A* mess. Weren’t you supposed to clean and pack everything up like…” he looked at his watch and then said, “fifteen minutes ago?”

You groaned, “I got distracted.”

“Well, I’m sure Mr. Dumpy-“

“Mr. Darcy!”

“-won’t mind if you actually start cleaning this mess,” Jungkook finished, shoving you aside with his foot.

You huffed and much to your annoyance, you knew that your baby brother was right. So you got up, but not without gently putting down your favourite book, and started shoving your clothes inside some random box.

“God, Y/N, why do you have to be so messy,” Jungkook groaned.

You rolled your eyes at him because, seriously, why did he have to act like the big brother here? But again, he was right.

“Why are you here anyway?” you asked while this time properly folding the clothes you decided to donate.

“I finished with my boxes half an hour ago,” he said with a grin, “and I had some spare time to use before Taehyung and Jimin arrive.”

At the mention of Jimin’s name, you could not help but blush furiously. You really hoped your ears weren’t as red as you thought. And yes, you might have had a slight crush on your childhood friend, Jimin.

“Jimin is coming as well?” you asked trying to sound nonchalant. Lucky for you, your brother wasn’t exactly quick when it came to matters of the heart.

Jungkook hummed, “yeah, I thought it would be nice since you guys are practically moving in together.”

You shrieked, “we are not moving in together!”

“Relax, Y/N,” your brother said, eyeing you like you just turned into a madwoman, “seriously, what’s up with you?”

How could you tell your younger brother that you have had a crush for your mutual childhood friend since the age of 10 and now that you and said friend were both moving to the same college you didn’t know how to keep your crush at bay? You couldn’t. Truth be told, you didn’t know how to act around Jimin without your brother and Taehyung being there as well. You were too scared that the boy would have found out.

“I’m sorry, Kookie. I’m just stressed with this whole college business,” you said, plopping carelessly on your small puffy chair.

Jungkook nodded, “it’s the end of an era.”

You didn’t mean to, but you started crying. You had tried so hard to not think about that for the whole summer and hearing your brother, who also happened to be one of your best friends, saying what you strongly tried to ignore was like a punch in the guts.

But it was the end of an era. You and Jimin were going off to college, leaving Jungkook and Taehyung behind. Your group, once inseparable, was splitting. No more movie nights, no more gaming, no more spending your days at the park chasing the ducks, eating ice cream together. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of that, to the best memories of your life. You weren’t ready to close the happiest chapter of your life. And certainly, you weren’t ready to embark into a more obscure, unsure and lonely chapter where your brother’s bunny smile wasn’t there to comfort you and Taehyung’s laugh wasn’t there to accompany you in the journey.

“No, Y/N, don’t cry,” Jungkook said moving closer to you.

You sniffled, “I’m not crying.”

Jungkook ruffled your hair, “sure you’re not.”

“I will miss the gang, you know,” you mumbled, deeply appreciating your brother’s efforts to comfort you. “It has always been the four of us and now we are going to split up.”

“It’s still gonna be the four of us,” Jungkook said with a soft smile and, seriously, when did he grow up so much? Where was your little brother?

“College doesn’t have to scare you this much, Y/N. It’s okay if you and Jimin will get new friends, our gang will just grow a little,” he said, patting your head lightly. You smiled at him, truly grateful for having him by your side when you needed him the most.

“Besides,” Jungkook said with a sly grin, “maybe you’ll manage to finally find a boyfriend.”

You groaned and pushed him away. “You are awful,” you said getting up from the bed. Jungkook laughed, showing you his signature bunny smile.

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll find your real life Mr. Dampy-”

“It’s Mr. Darcy!”

Jungkook shrugged again, “but seriously, how come someone as romantic as you never had a boyfriend?”

You arched an eyebrow, not quite sure why your little brother was suddenly curious about your love life. For a brief moment you were scared that your not-so-oblivious brother had caught up with your little crush and panic started clawing at your ribcage. You decided that the best tactic was to play dumb and play low, trying to be very careful not to spill any valuable information.

“It is a bit hard for a girl to find a boyfriend when she is surrounded by three very possessive boys,” you told him with an eye-roll.

Your brother chuckled, “okay, point taken.”

You snorted. Then, you started sorting out your clothes again, trying to decide what to bring with you to college and what to donate instead.

“But seriously, no one had ever caught your eyes?”

“Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”

Jungkook looked embarrassed and judging by his ears turning red, you knew that something was up.

“Kookie?” You sounded like you were about to tackle him to the ground to spill everything out of him. To be honest, you weren’t that opposed to the idea.

“Look,” he started, “it’s just that me and the boys are worried about you.” When you didn’t say anything, Jungkook groaned. “You’re always so happy whenever you think about love, we don’t want you to get hurt. Which is why Jimin is being appointed as your guardian.”

“What?!” you shrieked. You could feel all your blood draining inside of your body. Surely, he had to be joking. How were you supposed to forget about your crush for Jimin when he was going to be there every time you tried to talk to a boy?

“It was Tae’s idea,” he said, raising his hands in front of you. “Jimin agreed immediately and, honestly, I think you do need to be supervised.” He then noticed your face becoming painfully red and tried to placate your rising anger, “we just want you to have a good first love experience.”

You groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “And then you have the audacity of asking me why I never had a boyfriend! It’s because of you three.”

Jungkook had the decency of looking guilty, “I’m sorry, sis. We didn’t mean to ruin anything.”

You sighed, “do you realise I am the bigger sibling here, right? You don’t need to protect me, Kookie.”

Jungkook looked at his feet and muttered a quiet: “I just want you to fall in love with someone good.”

You tried to stay mad at him but, to be honest, you couldn’t. You know that your brother always had the best intentions and, if it meant you being happy, he would always try his best to work out a way to make that happen. Sometimes his plans had backfired, but his heart had always been in the right place. And that was Jungkook, always going the extra mile to help the people he loved and always trying harder whenever he failed. Truthfully, you loved him for that.

“You know I’m not really into that love thing,” you said, for the first time being truly honest with your brother. His head shot up immediately and the look on his face would have been hilarious if the situation hadn’t turned this dense.

“What? But you always read romance and dream about Mr. Darky-”

“Mr. Darcy!”

“-and you always talk about your wedding day. So, you’re telling me you don’t really like those things?”

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, “I do. But reality is different from fiction, Kookie. In the real world, there is no Mr. Darcy waiting for me and the thought of having a relationship is scary because I’m afraid I will be disappointed.”

You had never been so honest with someone before. You felt vulnerable and hoped that your brother wouldn’t want to carry on this conversation. Your heart ached enough already without the painful realisation that all your books and movies ever did was to make your expectations insanely high. Truth was, you were in love with the idea of love, but it was the kind of love that you could find in a book. Often, real life tended to disappoint you and if there was something that you cherished enough to not get it ruined by it, it was definitely love.

Before Kookie could say anything, your doorbell rang, and you took it as an excuse to exit the conversation. It was a coward move, you knew it, but your heart was feeling too raw for bravery. So, you ran downstairs to answer the door, leaving a sad but determined Jungkook behind.

***

“Is everything ready, Y/N?” Jimin asked.

You tried to not stare at him too much. Seriously, how were you going to survive college alone with him? You felt like dying. Like digging your own hole and bury yourself there without ever leaving it again.

“Yeah, it is. I have few boxes I want to donate first but aside from that I am good to go,” you answered.

Tae cooed, “aww, our baby Y/N is finally growing up.”

You shot him a deadly glare, “I’m the eldest! Show some respect.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” said Tae with a grin, “old lady.”

You wondered if it was socially accepted to murder a friend for being called old. You supposed not, but maybe if no one found out…

“Alright, children! I’m done.” Jungkook had just entered your house with a big grin on his face. Ever since he started working out, he became quite the show off, and what better opportunity to prove everyone his bulky figure than carrying all your boxed in your car? You weren’t complaining.

“Good job, Hercules,” you said, “now let’s go or we will be late.”

“Ah, you guys go ahead,” Jungkook said.

You looked at him confused, “Kookie? Is everything alright?”

Your brother nodded and smiled at you. “Yeah, me and Tae have something to do first.”

“We do?” said a puzzled Tae. Jungkook shot him a deadly glare, so he coughed and said, “ah, yes we do. Very important indeed.”

You narrowed your eyes at them. They were definitely being suspicious, and you did not trust the knowing look that passed between them, but before you could question them, Jimin called your name and the fear of being late overcame your curiosity.

_

“So, how is it going?”

You rolled on your back, resting your phone in between your ear and shoulder while packing your books in the bag. “It’s been alright, I guess. I met a guy, Yoongi, on the first day and now we pretty much always go to lectures together.”

Jungkook hummed over the phone, “nothing else?”

You frowned, holding the phone with your hand. “You’re being weird.”

You heard your brother nervously chuckle from the other end of the phone and if you weren’t sure before that something was up, you definitely were now. You decided that you would investigate later considering that you were done for the day and all you wanted to do was go back to your room and have a nap.

“Have you seen Jimin much?” he asked you.

You sighed, “not much. I guess we’ve both been very busy. It has only been two weeks since we started.”

Your conversation carried on for a little longer and when it came to say goodbye to your brother you felt a pinch of nostalgia hitting you, wishing that both him and Taehyung could be there with you. You weren’t being completely honest with him about Jimin, but you were not ready yet to tell him that you had been trying to avoid since you arrived there. You were scared that being alone with Jimin would cause your feelings to resurface and potentially ruin your friendship.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You were snapped back to reality by a guy approaching you. You stopped in the middle of the courtyard and blinked once, then you blinked again. Was that really…?

“Kim Seokjin?” you asked, not quite believing that the guy you had liked for awhile in High School was also attending your same college. Seriously, how small was the world?

Seokjin smiled at you, “I almost didn’t recognise you. You know, with the glasses and all,” he said waving at you.

You smiled, and you were quite sure you were blushing a bit. You had not seen Seokjin in months, and even before then you two weren’t exactly friends. Although Seokjin had always being very nice and charming to you, helping you out during Maths and always offering you a cookie whenever you had a bad day. Your crush for him had not been anything serious, you supposed. It had probably been the result of his caring attention and the fact that you had always wanted to believe in love so much that you portrayed your fantasies on the first handsome guy who so much looked at you.

You two started a conversation, catching up on each other’s life, on college. It was so easy to talk to him, especially now without your constant blushing and stammering. Jin made you promise to study together one of these days and, although your heart did not thump harder and no butterfly woke up in your stomach, you were happy. Perhaps this was the beginning of a nice friendship.

_

“I cannot believe that you really showed up hangover on your very first day,” you said to Yoongi, who in turn simply shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich.

“Surely is not that unreasonable?”

“Jimin! Don’t encourage him, please.”

You were sitting in the courtyard, technically studying with Jimin, Yoongi and Jin but practically you were all enjoying the sun and getting distracted. It was strange to be again in a group of four where your brother and Taehyung were missing, but Yoongi and Jin were slowly becoming good friends. It has been Jimin’s idea to study all together, he had suggested several times that although the gang would always be the gang, perhaps it was time for you two to expand your friendship group. So, you agreed and offered to ask Yoongi and Jin to come along while Jimin asked a friend of his, Hoseok, to join as well.

“Hello, you must all be the friends Jimin was telling me about.”

You turned around to look at the guy you could only assume to be Jung Hoseok and smiled at him. But before you could say yes, Yoongi mumbled something along the lines of “not sure we can say friends” but you elbowed him slightly and made room for Hoseok who, credit to him, did not lose his sunny smile after hearing Yoongi’s word.

“We are. Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and Mr. grumpy here is Yoongi.”

And so, your life started taking an unexpected but utterly pleasant turn. You were making friends, you were happy, and there was no talking of love and relationship. All was well.

_

You were late. Terribly, unmistakably, and horribly late. You knew you should have not run in the hallways, but seriously what other choice did you have? Later on, when you would think of this exact moment, you will agree that arriving late for a lecture would have been a much better option than running straight into someone. And not just a random someone, no. Because life could not be kind to you, so the Universe had decided that the person you would knock over on the floor was no one else than your Middle School crush, Kim Namjoon himself, the pain of your existence and your fiercest rival. And of course, he attended your same college, how silly of you to think otherwise.

“Oh no no no, I’m so sorry,” you said while helping him collect his belongings. You didn’t know what to panic for: still being late for your lectures or encountering your nemesis?

“Why am I not surprised that you are here?”

His voice was just as icy as you remembered it to be. Or rather, just as icy with you as you remembered. Because there was a reason why he had been your Middle School crush, aside from the constant banter and the fact that at the time you were really into enemies to lovers type of books. Kim Namjoon had a sweet and calm voice, almost hypnotising. And now, almost 10 years later, his voice was also ridiculously manly. And the butterflies that you thought died inside your stomach? They were suddenly back, storming inside your body. Because his voice was not only manly, but also insanely attractive. And your betraying heart skipped several beats when your eyes landed on him. Kim Namjoon was a sight to see. Not only was he now tall (the perfect height for you to lean your head on this shoulder), but also a man. And you were only human, after all. A very weak one.

“Can you stop staring at me?” he asked not so friendly.

You wanted to hide, far away, somewhere where you would never have to encounter him again. Of course, he caught you staring at him, your luck was embarrassing. “Sorry, I was just surprised to see you here.”

He scoffed, “you surely did not think you were the only one smart enough to be here?”

Yes, maybe Kim Namjoon was now more attractive than you would have liked, but you also remembered how vexed he made you feel. “Does everything have to be a fight with you?” you hissed in return.

He rolled his eyes at you, “only with annoying people.”

You groaned, “you’re just as obnoxious as I remembered.”

“I beg your pardon? You’re the one who clashed into me, knocked all of my things on the floor and then stared at me for 10 minutes-”

“It was not 10 minutes!” you protested. Seriously, he was so irritating.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this. Now because of you I will be late,” he said.

You gasped. Your lecture! You did not even respond to him, you simply sprinted away, hoping that the professor would allow you to enter the class (spoiler: he did not) and that you would never meet Namjoon again (spoiler: you did. Several times).

_

“And he’s so annoying! Why does he have to be friend with Yoongi? He’s infiltrating my group and soon enough they will get rid of me,” you said munching on your dumplings and pointing the chopstick at your screen where two confused Tae and Jungkook were looking at you. “He hates me!”

“Y/N, don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” Taehyung asked.

You shook your head, gulping down your last dumpling. “He despises me! Don’t you remember how he was in Middle School?”

Jungkook shrugged, “Namjoon-hyung was always very polite with me. I actually quite liked the guy.”

Taehyung nodded, “he really was!”

You groaned, pressing your face into your pillow, “I can’t believe you’re siding with the enemy.”

“You know what, Y/N? One might even think that you still like him,” said Taehyung with a smirk.

You frowned, “what do you mean ‘still like him’? What do you know?” You were now incredibly suspicious. How did he know about your, very much past, crush for Namjoon? As far as you were aware, no one knew anything about your love life.

Jungkook chuckled nervously, “he’s just joking. We must go now, bye sister!” And then he hung up on you.

Those two were up to something, and there was only one person that could tell you what was going on. It was finally time to find Jimin and put an end to your avoiding behaviour.

_

You were almost halfway through when you spotted Jin coming towards you, looking quite conflicted. You noticed his posture was strangely stiff and that he could not quite meat your eyes. When he said hello to you, his voice was tense.

“Is everything okay, Jin?” you asked. You watched him huff and fidget with something in his hand. An envelope. A pink envelope. A very familiar, pink envelope. Panic started crawling on you. It could not be real.

“I received this,” he said waving the letter at you, looking the very description of discomfort. “Look, Y/N, I am honoured, really, but I thought we were only friends. I didn’t know you felt differently.”

“Oh no,” you started panting, panic overwhelming you. You could not breathe; your world was spinning around you, and you could hardly feel the ground beneath your feet. “How did you-”

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Seokjin was now seriously worried about you.

You forced yourself to take in a couple of steadying breaths. “I did not send that,” you said with a small voice. You truly hoped this was just a nightmare, a cruel mistake at best.

Seokjin scratched his head, “but it has been signed by you?”

You laughed nervously, “I know. I have written it years ago. I never intended for it to reach you.”

“So… you love me?”

You shook your head, “no. Don’t get me wrong, at the time I thought I did but…I only wrote it to remind myself of how I felt. I don’t even know why you have it.”

He nodded, passing the envelope to you. “I think you should have it back then.”

You thanked him, taking the letter from him. “Seokjin?”

“Yes?”

“Are we still friends?” you asked hesitantly, not daring to meet his eyes.

He smiled at you and bumped your shoulder with his. “Of course we are. Although, I am a bit hurt that I was not the only one to receive such a beautiful letter.”

You froze, terror taking control of your brain. Not the only one?

“Namjoon seemed quite shocked when he read his.”

Oh no. No no no no no.

If Namjoon had received your letter, which was in itself already bad, then that meant that there was a chance that Jimin had gotten his.

_

You needed to find Jimin. Truthfully, you had no idea what to tell him. It was true, you did not love Seokjin, nor Namjoon, but how could you lie to your dearest friend? How could you look at him in the eyes and tell him that it had all been a mistake? But it’s not as if you could tell him the truth either. Perhaps, you thought, he didn’t receive his letter. Maybe, whomever sent them did not find the one addressed to Jimin. But who did send them? The only thing you could think about was that the box in which they were kept had mistakenly being put with the ones destined to be donated. And then the person who had found them had thought that they ended up there by accident when you were actually meant to send them out. It was your own fault for writing down the full address on each one.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, hoping that maybe if you could not see him then he would not see you.

“What is the meaning of this?” Namjoon asked. You opened up one eye to look at him handing you his blue envelope. Of course he saw you.

You sighed and took the envelope. “A mistake, that’s what is it. I did not send it out, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms on his chest, “maybe not, but you still wrote it.”

Ouch. You scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself. It means nothing.”

“It said you love me. It said, and I quote, ‘I tried everything I could to stop loving the way my soul calls to yours’-”

You pressed your hands to his mouth, not even caring about invading his personal space or that this was the first time your skin came into contact with his. “Ah, ah! Don’t want to hear about it.”

“Look,” you said taking a step back but still watching carefully in case he decided to randomly quote what you wrote at the age of 13. “I wrote this years ago and never intended for it to reach you.”

“You addressed it,” he stated.

“Sorry?”

He huffed, “you wrote my full address. It came to my house and my mother had to send it to me here. If you never intended to reach me, why did you address it and stamp it?”

You opened your mouth to protest but could not think of many things to say that weren’t ‘I don’t know’. So, you stayed silent.

Exasperated, you looked around. Everywhere, really, so that you didn’t need to look at his piercing eyes. That’s when you noticed Jimin walking towards you, a yellow envelope in his hand.

You don’t know exactly what happened in your brain back then, but you had no time to ponder your next move. All you could think about was making sure that Jimin would never find out about your feelings for him. And so, there was only one thing left for you to do.

You wrapped your arms around Namjoon’s neck, and you kissed him. Despite the terror that seeing Jimin had caused you, you could not help but notice how warm and soft his lips were, how firm his body was against yours. And how his hand unmistakeably grabbed your waist for a brief second. How his lips had moved against yours.

It all lasted so briefly before he pulled himself away from you. You did not hear him asking you what you were thinking, all that you could notice was that Jimin had left. Your plan had worked, for now. All you needed to worry about now was a flustered and angered Namjoon.

You raised a hand to silence his stream of consciousness, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”

“Pardon?”

He was speechless, and rightfully so. You even doubted you were making any sense. But somehow it did, in some deep and twisted part of your brain.

“Jimin,” you started to explain, “he has the same letter you and Jin have. I wrote them in different periods of time and, before you ask, I don’t know why I stamped them. Maybe a part of him wanted one of you to know, to return my feelings. I don’t love you, nor Seokjin for that matter, but I do love Jimin. And he is the only person who can never find out.”

Namjoon stayed silent for several minutes, trying to take everything in. “What is it that you are asking of me, exactly?”

You sighed, “if I could pretend I am actually in love with someone else, if I can show him that that letter belongs to the past, perhaps I can still save our friendship. You don’t owe me anything, Kim Namjoon, but what I am asking of you is: will you be my fake boyfriend?”

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Pairing: Kim Namjoon x f!reader (with a side of Hoseok x reader and Taehyung x reader)

Summary: Namjoon never wanted a Sugar Baby, no matter what Yoongi and Hoseok said. You never wanted a Sugar Daddy, despite the insistence from Jimin. Until your life takes a turn and you really need the money, fast. What was supposed to be a one night thing, a birthday present for a big time rapper and producer, turns into so much more when you find in each other what you never thought you had been looking for. 

Genre: Fluff, angst, so much smut, strangers to lovers, sugar daddy au.

Chapter warnings: TIME AND DATES MAKE SENSE DURING THE STORY! Keep an eye out for them. Drinking, mentions of being drunk, angst, jealousy, SMUT! 

WC: 12K

Previous| Series Materlist|Next 

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NOVEMBER 25TH | 10:15

“Are you alive in there?” Jimin was calling for you. “I’m coming in.”

You pulled the covers over your head as the door to your bedroom opened. You heard shuffling, then felt the pull of the covers off of you. Protests didn’t matter with Jimin, so you were left huffing and trying to grab for a pillow. 

“I could be naked, you know.” you warned him. 

“Yeah, well, nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Jimin was using his no bulshit tone, Busan satoori thick on his pouty complaints. 

You didn’t blame your best friend, you had been in bed for the past three days; skipping classes and barely leaving your room for meals. The trip to NYC had absolutely drained you, the jet lag only actually hitting you with full force once you made it back to Seoul. Plus, you couldn’t remember a night on the short weekend trip that you got more than five hours of sleep. 

Not that you were complaining, you still thought it had been one of the best weekends of your life. Even with all of the ups and downs and the way your last night ended. 

“I got you food.”

“What kind of food?” 

“The kind you eat, now sit up and talk.” 

You groaned loudly, eyes fighting to get used to the new clarity in the room from the blinds having been pulled open. Jimin wasn’t actually mad at you, he was merely a believer of tough love. And after being in bed for so long, you had to start reacting to life and getting back to your normal routine. 

Sitting against your pillows and headboard, you received the paper bag and coffee cup that Jimin had gotten for you from the cafe near SNU. 

“How was class today?” you asked while pulling out the cinnamon roll from the paper bag. 

“Everyone is going a little crazy with the expo coming up, most teachers are just letting us work on it.” Jimin sat across from you, folding his legs on his lap. 

“See? I’m not even missing much.” 

“Mr. Min asked about you.”

“Who’s Mr. Min?”

You didn’t remember having any teachers with that last name. Unless the jet lag had messed you up so bad you were forgetting things.

“Min Yoongi.” he said with a giggle. “He picked me up from class today, just to give me a ride home before going back to work.” 

“What a dedicated sugar daddy.”

“He is. But I think he was on a secret mission.” 

You ate a few more bites of your dessert and took gulps of the iced coffee. Jimin eyed you suspiciously before saying:

“I was under the impression Namjoon hyung sent him to get news from you.” 

“He could have texted me himself.” your shoulders moved up and down. 

Jimin reached for your phone on the nightstand beside your bed, trying to wake up the sleeping device. He waved the ‘NO BATTERY’ sign lighting up on the screen before going black again. 

“Oh shit, I thought I had plugged it in!” you cried out, pulling the charging cord and finding it dangling, not stuck to the wall like you thought. “Alright, my bad. I’ll text him later.” 

“Later? Alright, what happened? Last thing I know you’re texting me plans for a confession, and now you don’t even care about seeing or talking to him?”

“Of course I care about all that, Minie. I miss that goofy giant so much!”

“Then what’s the problem, babe?” 

You took a deep breath, scrunching up the paper bag after finishing your food. 

“I don’t know how to act around him right now.” you admitted. 

“Did he not reciprocate your feelings?”

“I never told him about my feelings.” 

Jimin’s small eyes grew round as he raised his eyebrows and pushed his plush lips into a glossy pout. 

The three days you spent in bed –and away from Namjoon– were enough to help you put things into perspective. You weren’t mad, nor upset with Namjoon. You understood that his ex showing up wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t interested in pursuing things with her. But you were put under the impression that things were still fresh between them, that maybe he wasn’t ready to start a new relationship, maybe he wasn’t even interested in one. 

So you told your friend about Aecha and everything you knew about her, as well as the few encounters you had with her, which culminated on her surprise visit to your hotel room and asking Namjoon to get back together. You left out all of what Namjoon had told you in bed that night, things much too personal for passing along, but Jimin still got the jist of things. 

“So you’re just not saying anything anymore?”

“How can I say anything? I’m not sure I want to get in the middle of whatever it is that’s going on between them.” you sighed. “Besides, if Namjoon feels something for me, he can tell me himself.” 

“I’ll support whatever you want to do.” he smiled softly. “But you won’t stop seeing him, will you?” 

“I don’t think I could do that even if I wanted to. I guess things will just stay the same.” 

“That’s better than nothing, I guess.” Jimin started getting up from your bed. “Now text him, or I’m going to start feeling jealous of all of Yoongi’s questions.”

“Oh, please, that man is a simp for you.” 

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NOVEMBER 25TH | 12:35

Bzzzzzzzzzz.” 

Namjoon jumped in his chair, reaching for the phone on the table in front of him. Only to see no new notifications on the screen and Hoseok laughing his ass off next to him. 

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Namjoon mumbled, eyes almost coming to a complete close. 

“She still hasn’t texted?” 

“She has, we’ve been talking nonstop.” he deadpanned. “That’s why I jumped when I thought my phone was buzzing.”

Hoseok fell into a fit of laughter again, having a great time at his best friend’s misery. 

They were both sitting in a private room of a restaurant they liked to go to every now and then. It was one they would walk past during the years when Cypher was only a dream and they barely had the funds to eat three meals a day. Ever since they grew big and successful, the two of them –and Yoongi, who should be arriving soon– made a point of coming back and having a hearty meal at least once a month. 

“Do you want me to text her? Maybe she’ll answer me.” Hoseok meant well, but his sly smile wasn’t helping. 

“Not the time for you to hit on her, hyung.” 

“I didn’t even mean it like that–” the shorter man tried bulshitting his way through, but Namjoon’s pointed look showed he didn’t even get to try. “Alright, I did. But I actually need to talk to her about sending me hers and that Jungkook guy’s portfolio.”

“Do you think you can fit them in for Seokjin’s mv?” 

“If they’re good.” 

Namjoon didn’t know anything about Jungkook’s work, just that he had a good heart and was mostly excited about music and filming. But he knew you, and he knew you were good at what you did. This could be an opportunity for you to start off the career path you wanted, the first step towards the success he knew you’d have. 

“So if I text her, I can ask her to come to the building and you can talk to her then.” Hoseok tried, and this time he didn’t have any ulterior motives. 

“I don’t want to have to lure her in to talk to her.” Namjoon scoffed behind his water glass. He really wished it was alcohol instead. 

“You know what I don’t get?” Hobi was saying as he fixed his slouched posture and leaned over the table. “Why are you so pressed about her answering you if you just told me this morning you weren’t confessing anymore?” 

The last conversation he had with Aecha that night in New York had put a damper in his plans to tell you how he felt, to ask you out for real. It made him realize that he had issues within himself that he needed to work on before starting a new relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and it wouldn’t be fair to him, to just jump into something now when he wasn’t ready. 

“Because just because I don’t think I can be a good boyfriend to her right now, doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing her.” 

“You mean you want to keep fucking her?” Hoseok felt into his chair again, eyes staring at nothing as his head leaned to the side. “Can’t say I blame you. I miss that mou–”

“Watch it.” 

“Yah, you two bickering like an old married couple already?” Yoongi was throwing himself into the last empty chair across from them. 

The elder looked tired, as he always did, but his lips were slightly red and his pale skin had a fresh purple bruise on his neck. Yoongi wasn’t even trying to hide the fact his morning had been a lot more exciting than theirs. 

“So?” Namjoon perked up at the arrival of his other best friend. 

“Jimin said your girl is fine. Messed up from the jet lag, not avoiding you.” Yoongi explained and Namjoon felt a little relieved. “Also, she forgot to plug her phone in, so she didn’t get any of your texts.” 

“Ah. Silly baby.” usually he was really good at masking his stupidly fond reactions to you, but he hadn’t seen you in three days.

“Yikes. Is that how I get about Jiminie?” Yoongi grimaced. 

“You’re worse.” both boys said in unison. 

The waitress came over with a new glass of cold water for the newcomer and took their orders. They had been over so many times that no one even had to look at the menu. After she was gone and they were left alone again, Yoongi sighed. 

“You might have bigger problems than a discharged phone.” 

“What is it?”

“You remember how Mr. Lee has a spot at Cypher, since he’s one of our main investors?” he started, and both Hoseok and Namjoon frowned. 

“Don’t tell me he wants to start working for us.” Hoseok scoffed. 

“No, not him. He wants the spot for Aecha.” 

“Absolutely not.” Namjoon was shaking his head. “What happened to her job?!”

“He said she’s trying to branch out.” even Yoongi didn’t believe that. 

“Well, tell her to branch out somewhere else.” Namjoon was starting to get agitated. 

It was obvious to the three of them just why Aecha wanted to be a part of Cypher. Now of all times. 

“We can’t not accept her, Joonah.” Yoongi said, even if he felt for his dongsaeng. 

“Yes we can.”

“Yeah, if you want to start taking in any artist, and not only the ones we like and believe in.” Hoseok pondered. “Are you ready to become –how do you put it– a producer whore?”

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NOVEMBER 25TH | 17:46

As it turns out, talking to Joon –even if through texts– did help lift your spirits quite a bit. You hadn’t talked about anything too serious, but you had made plans to meet tomorrow. He would give you a ride to classes in the morning and then pick you up again for lunch. And maybe, just maybe, you’d ask to come over to his penthouse later that night with the excuse of seeing Monie. 

You missed Joon today. But not seeing him until the morning would give you time to psychologically prepare yourself to see Namjoon. You’d have all night to make it clear to your head –and more troublesomely, your heart– that all that you felt for the man needed to stay locked inside a drawer until told otherwise. 

But the universe had other plans for you. 

Just after your shower, when you were still towel drying your hair and leaving the bathroom you shared with Jimin, the doorbell to your small apartment rang twice. 

“Minie?” you called, twisting the key to unlock the door. “Forgot the key– Oh, Joon!” 

“Hey.” he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly. He eyed your wet hair and the towel in your hands. “Did I get here too late?” 

A giggle was breaking out of you, and suddenly things were okay between you two. You opened the door wider for the big man to fit through, only now realizing you were wearing a pair of old Pokémon pajamas and you hoped he wouldn’t mind it. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” he sighed, letting you notice his heady shoulders and tired stance. “Wanted to see you so bad.” 

Step one: Controlling the butterflies in your stomach. Mission status: Failed. 

“And a little duckie told me you haven’t been eating right.” Joon said, showing you a takeout bag from one of your favorite restaurants you had gone together once before. 

“Little duckie? Is that what you call Jimin?”

He shook his head, following you into the kitchen. “Yoongi hyung calls him that. It’s kinda cute.” 

“That’s funny, Minie calls him kitty.”

“Okay, that’s starting to be a little too sweet.” he laughed, resting the takeout on your small counter. “Why won’t those two just admit their feelings and get this suffering over with?” 

Step two: Ignoring the pang in your chest. Mission status: Failed. 

You nodded at his words, wondering if there was more to the statement or if it was just wishful thinking on your part. 

“Maybe they are scared that taking that step might change things too much. Maybe they aren’t ready.” you said without looking at him, tearing through the plastic bags. 

“And it’s okay to keep things how they are, as long as they still have each other.” Joon said, absentmindedly. 

Again, you agreed with a move of your head, focusing on opening the lids of the takeout containers without getting burned with the steam. Namjoon had picked your favorite from the little italian restaurant in Hongdae; tomato sauce pasta and crispy chicken. 

“Fuck, that looks delicious.” you almost drooled on the spot. 

Namjoon’s low chuckle was right behind you, freezing you in place. His hands went to each side of you on the counter, chin resting on the top of your head. 

“Thought you needed something good to heal the jet lag.” 

“It’s great. Should I put it on a pan and make some sauce splashes, or is it okay if I just put it on plates?” 

“Aish, you’ll never let me leave it down, will you?” 

You looked up right in time to see his dimples poking at his cheeks. 

Step three: Not melting from his face. Mission status: miserably failed. 

“I’ll forget about it when you actually cook for me.” 

“I already told you I’ll make you that cereal ice cream you loved so much.”

Your nose twisted as you walked away from Namjoon to pick up the plates and serve your dinner. You already missed his warmth and at that point you gave up on your missions for tonight. It was a lost battle from the moment he stepped into the apartment. 

The two of you ate the delicious food on the small kitchen table, talking about nothing and everything. As it turns out, Namjoon was a big fan of Pokémon and even told you about his card collection. He said he kept it hidden, for reasons you could guess, but he could show them to you whenever you wanted. In return, you told him you had a couple decks yourself, but they stayed behind at your mother’s house. 

He was very disappointed about that, telling you he had some you could trade. 

After the food had been consumed, you got up to gather the empty takeout containers in a trash bag and Namjoon looked around with a confused wrinkle on his forehead and the dirty plates on his hand.

“Looking for something?” you laughed while tying the knot on the trash bag. 

“Your dishwasher?”

“You really don’t remember what it’s like to be a broke university student, do you?” you snickered. “Fame changes people.” 

“It’s alright, I can just wash it by hand. Like we’re back in prehistoric times.”

You laughed louder, fondly watching the man walk around your kitchen picking up everything that was dirty and bringing it to your too-low-of-a-sink and start washing them. And you were a weak woman. You see a tall man in sweatpants and white shirt, doing home chores, and you get a little silly. 

“Just leave it there, I can wash them later.” you were saying as you hugged his middle, face smushing against his back. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.” you kissed his spine, feeling how his muscles contracted as he moved. “Wanna show you something in my room.” 

That was an easy fight to win, as you heard the faucet closing and felt Namjoon wiping his hands on his pants, even with the perfectly good tea towel hanging just beside his head. When he turned around, so did you. Namjoon stuck to your back, much like you had done to him, and followed you closely into your bedroom. 

He sat on the edge of your bed without you even needing to tell him, the poor thing must have been so tired. You walked to your small study desk, unzipping your backpack that was all ready for tomorrow, producing a black folder. You gave it to Namjoom, who opened it curiously and flipped carefully through the pages. 

“Is this your work?” he sounded impressed, but not surprised at all. “Wow, this is really great.” 

You had prepared that folder with a few of your styling jobs you did in the past. They had been few and far between, but you weren’t as inexperienced as he might think. 

“At the end I added a few collages of pieces I think would look good on Jin.” you told him, helping him reach those pages. 

Namjoon studied the choices, nodding and pointing to his favorite sets and picks. 

“You got the concept perfectly. How did you guess?” 

“I can’t take all the credit, Hobi did tell me a little of the concept you guys are planning for the music video.” you received the folder back and zipped it up, leaving it on top of your too cluttered desk. “Will you bring it to him tomorrow, please? I’ll get Jk’s flash drive in the morning and give it to you at lunch?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Namjoon nodded, but all he could think about was: “When have you talked to hyung?” 

“You mean, today?” 

“No, I mean when did he get your number?” he tried sounding casual, even matching his words with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Oh. He asked me for it on Jimin’s birthday.” you said as you organized a little of the mess on your table. “You know, after the three of us…”

Had sex. Together. All three of you.

At the time it had been fun, and Namjoon didn’t regret it. If the situation was right, he wouldn’t mind doing it again, even. But right now his brain was conjuring up the memories of Hoseok laughing at his phone, being secretive about who he was talking to, and even the times he excused himself from the room to pick up a call in the hallway. 

“Joonie.” he looked up at your call, only now noticing you were standing in front of him. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of him too.” 

“Me? Jealous?” he scoffed. 

It sounded fake even to his ears. 

You bit down your lips to stop a laugh, pushing him back by the shoulders to have him sit up straight and you could swing your legs to each side of his hips. You fit so nicely on his lap, it felt like home to you. 

Namjoon didn’t think twice about circling your waist with his arms, looking slightly up to your face. 

“You don’t have to be jealous of Hobi.” you said with a small hand caressing his cheek. “He’s just a friend.” 

“Okay.” his lips puckered in a way of asking for a kiss. 

“A very hot friend.” you continued, kissing his pout that turned into a thin line. “A friend that has seen me naked.” another kiss. “A friend I wouldn’t mind fucking again–”

“Shut up.” 

He said without any real bite, but some fake annoyance. Namjoon pulled you by the back of your neck to shut you up himself. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was kind of hot to have you saying those things, teasing him with the ideas of a new threesome, even if it did make him a smidge jealous. He just loved how fun you were, how there were possibilities with you. 

He never had that before. 

And as you melted into his kiss, giving back everything he was giving you, he knew that at the end of the day you were his. Not Hoseok’s. 

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DECEMBER 3RD | 14:09

Rkive, just like Namjoon’s penthouse, was becoming a second and third home to you, with how much time you had been spending in both places. Initially you had been a little hesitant in coming over to the Cypher building, not wanting to intrude or to be on the way of his work. But Namjoon always insisted that your presence calmed him, so you came over every time. 

That Friday afternoon wasn’t any different. The moment he was texting you to come over after class, you were agreeing. 

Which is how you found yourself sitting on the small space between his couch and wood coffee table, with papers and coloring pencils scattered in front of you. It wasn’t the Nakashima he had bought yet, which is why he wasn’t complaining about the risk of scratching it.  

You were doing your university work, and Namjoon was across from you. He had heavy headphones over one of his ears –so he could still hear you, should you need him– and would sing the lyrics out loud every now and then. 

He might not be the best singer, but his words were deep and heartfelt, and grabbed your attention each time. You were about to compliment them on it when your phone buzzed on your lap. 

Taetae [14:10]:It’s throwback night at Burn. Who’s down? 

JK [14:10]: I have boxing class in the morning

Minie [14:12]:I’m going out with Yoonie tonight

Taetae [14:12]:Yn? cmon don’t leave me hanging 

You [14:13]: Who else is coming? Can I bring Joon? 

Taetae [14:13]:Some friends from class, sure you can bring the bodyguard. 

You [14:14]: Be nice!

You closed your phone after texting your friends’ group chat and turned to Namjoon. He was scribbling quickly onto a piece of paper with a pen in the shape of a cactus, so you waited for him to be done. 

“Joonie.” 

At the sound of your voice he was turning around on his chair. “Yeah, baby?”

“Wanna go out tonight? We are going to a club.” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” he pushed the headphones off his head to rest on his shoulders. “I have this boring business dinner later.”

“Okay then.” 

“Why don’t you come over and stay with Monie?” he countered, pushing back against his flexible chair to stretch his long limbs. “So I’ll have a reason to rush home after dinner.”

The old lady in you wanted to agree to that, but you hadn’t gone out to a club in so long; plus Tae’s crowd was usually really fun. 

“I already told Tae I’d go with him.” you pouted.

The chair creaked with the harsh movement as Namjoon asked: “Taehyung? Is it only you two? Will  his boyfriend be there? Or Jimin?”

You giggled at all of his questions, picking up a green coloring pencil to fix a spot on your sketch. “Jimin is going out with Yoongi. Funny that he doesn’t need to be at that boring work dinner.” 

“That’s my part of the job.”

“And Jk has boxing practice tomorrow.”

“So it’s just you and Taehyung?” he pushed. And, frankly, you didn’t like his tone.

“Problem?”

Yeah. “No, of course not. You have every right to do whatever you want.” 

Namjoon was absolutely right, you did have every right to do what you pleased. But you didn’t like his borderline challenging tone. It would have been so much easier if he told you it would bother him if you were going to a club with Taehyung. Then you could assure him that more of his friends would be going, and that he had no reason to worry. 

But the way he said it made you want to act out on purpose. If he was so bothered about the possibilities of something happening between you and Taehyung, then he should do something about it. But so far he hasn’t. 

You turned your focus to your work, changing colors and drawing away, all while you could feel Namjoon’s gaze boring into you. If he was about to say something else, he was cut off by the knocking on his door. 

“Can you get that?” he asked you, since you were closer. 

“Yes, sir.” 

You crawled the couple meters to the door, not bothering to get up as you pulled down the doorknob to open the studio to whoever it was that was visiting Rkive. 

“Already on your knees for me?” Hoseok was laughing as he saw you there in that position. 

“Hi, Hobito.” you smiled brightly, accepting his hand to help you up and pull you into a tight hug. “Come in.” 

“I’m not interrupting anything, right?” 

He wanted to make sure, since Namjoon’s jaw was clenched and he looked a little annoyed. But you were shaking your head as you walked back to your spot by the center table. 

“And how’s my favorite little stylist?” Hoseok sat down on the couch behind you, watching you draw away over your shoulder. 

You giggled in response, and if you were just a little sweeter, no one said anything. “I’m good.”

“That’s not for Seokjin hyung, right? Not that I don’t think he can pull off a dress.” 

“No, that’s for the exposition at her university at the end of the month.” Namjoon told him in a matter of factly tone, as if him having that knowledge gave him Yn points.

And Hoseok noticed it too, so he ignored his friend. 

“Are you excited for next week?” he asked while pressing the back of your neck in a massage that made you close your eyes. 

“I’m buzzing! Very nervous too, but good nervous, I think.”

For the past week you had been working on finding, choosing and buying –with Cypher’s company card– the pieces you thought would look cool and match Seokjin and the music video for his new single. 

The actual filming was happening next week, and you were super excited to be a part of it. Even more since Jungkook would be there working too. 

“Are you going to the business dinner too, Hobi?” you asked while turning around to face him, chin resting on his knee. “I’m going to a club tonight, if you wanna join." 

Namjoon was watching the bittersweet exchange. On one hand it warmed his heart to see you so close to his best friend. On the other, he wondered just how or when you had gotten so close to him in the first place.

He wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you and his hyung, but right now he was feeling a little left out. 

"Sorry, pretty girl. Next time though, yeah?” Hoseok pinched the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it cutely. “Got a date tonight.”

“With that girl you were telling me about? The one with the nice tits?” you did your best not to cringe at your words, wondering if it was obvious you were trying to appease your audience. Hoseok laughed, but nodded. “Well, if you get bored or want to bring her, we’ll be at Burn in Itaewon." 

"Noted." 

Namjoon’s chair creaked again, on purpose this time; his way of getting attention. 

"Do you actually need anything, hyung?" 

"Nah, Yoongi said you had the pretty girl in the studio and I came to say hi." 

"Hi.” you giggled, batting your pretty eyes at the hyung.

“Well, you said hi, now I need to work, please." 

Hoseok and you exchanged amused glances and the man left a kiss to the top of your head before getting up. 

"Good luck with your date tonight!" 

"Thanks, you too.” he teased on his way out the door. “Bye, Joonah.”

Namjoon seemed to visibly relax when it was just the two of you in the room again. But instead of going back to work like he said, Namjoon got up and walked the few steps to reach the couch. 

You turned around to get back to your work, pretending to think really hard about which colors you’d use next. 

“How’s the inspiration going, little one?”

It was more than unfair the way he managed to melt you with simple words and a soft tone. It didn’t help that you understood his past traumas and his reasons for jealousy, but at least you could see he was trying to break out of them. 

“Really good.”

“Yeah?” his hands were on your shoulders as he tried to see better.

“I guess your studio is really inspiring.” you leaned back against the edge of the couch, between his legs. 

“I’m glad to hear that. You’re welcome here at any time.” 

Namjoon pressed on your shoulders, wanting to relieve some of the tension he could feel under his fingertips. He nosed at your hair, smelling your strawberry and lily shampoo. He was ready to ask you if you’d like him to come meet you at the club after the dinner, since it wasn’t supposed to last that long anyway, when the beeping at his door made him pause. 

Not many people knew his code, one he had been meaning to change for a couple months now, but it always slipped his mind. He just hoped to God it wasn’t–

“God, I thought Hoseok would never leave.” 

Aecha was opening Namjoon’s studio door without knocking, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. All of the calm he had managed to install within you flew out that same door. The woman was clearly very surprised to see you there too. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked before you could check yourself.

“I work here.” she said, delighted with your surprise. And to put the nail on the coffin, she repeated your own words from before: “You’re the one who keeps showing up.” 

“What to you want, Ms. Lee?” 

Namjoon asked her, and you had never heard him sounding so cold. It wasn’t enough to calm your racing heart or your trembling hands as you picked up your spread coloring pencils and papers. 

“I have this contract for you to look over, Mr. Kim.” the jaunty way in which she said the words was annoyingly suggestive. “And I have to say, this studio used to be better frequented.”

“Who I have inside my studio is my problem, don’t forget that I’m still your boss.” 

Namjoon was standing up now, trying to block you from her view. 

“Okay, Mr. Boss Man.” Aecha pressed the folder she was holding into his chest. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner.” 

The woman left, and with her went the air from your lungs. Namjoon was breathing heavily, as if to calm himself, and you finished shoving your things inside your backpack in a rushed and careless manner. 

“I’m sorry about– Where are you going?” 

“You hired your ex?” was all you said. 

You wanted to follow it up with: After all she’s done to you? After all she continues to do to you? After telling me there was nothing there? How was he expecting to heal from her abuse and mind games if he was seeing her everyday? 

“It’s more complicated than that.” Namjoon sighed. 

“And you’re going to dinner with her tonight?”

“It’s not dinner with her, there will be more people there.”

He tried to make it make sense to you, and you might understand it if you let him get two sentences in. 

“She’s your ex isn’t that against some kind of corporate rule?”

“At least I’m not going to a club with her.” 

It slipped out before Namjoon could hold back the words. But when he felt cornered, he ended up saying things he didn’t mean. And he desperately wanted to take the spotlight off of him. 

“Is that how you want to be?” you asked, defensive.

“You started it.” he said it like a child who ran out of comebacks. 

“Yeah, and I’m also ending it.” you picked up your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. “Goodbye, Namjoon.” 

You passed by him, bumping your shoulder into his as you reached for the door. Namjoon wanted to go after you, make you listen, talk it through. But you were both hot headed right now, both had enough on your plates. It wouldn’t do either of you any good to continue this right now. 

DECEMBER 3RD | 22:12

Taehyung was usually surrounded by a big group of people. And if he didn’t go somewhere with an ensemble, he met them while waiting in line, on the dance floor, by the bar; once you even saw him leaving a club bathroom with a new best friend! In your years of friendship you had met so many new people through and because of him. 

And they were always a little weird, but so much fun.

You usually liked to hop from group to group with him, laughing at his clownery and weird antics that just made him who he was. 

But not tonight. 

You were feeling a little left out. The whole thing with Joon and Aecha had hours to sink in with you and it could have gone one of two ways:

  1. You could be understanding, as you always were, and call him to make sure things were okay between you. Let him explain, or at least make up excuses. Could let it slide that he was always acting a little jealous when it came to you and other boys, but the second you turned it on him, he acted out. 
  2. You could get over the fact that you weren’t together, not by a long shot; partially through a fault of your own, since you had decided not to confess. You were still in a Sugar Baby/Sugar Daddy arrangement that made you both free to do whatever you wanted. You could go to a club with your ex, and he could go to dinner with his, hire her to work alongside him, give her the password to his studio, and not tell you anything about it. 

It was safe to say you had gone with the second option, accepting the feminine urge to act a little petty. As you stumbled into the club after waiting too long out in the cold, already regretting having drank half a bottle of Soju during the pregame at Sohee’s place, you grabbed Taehyung by his arm, pulling him closer to you. 

“Tae, will you stay with me tonight?” you were saying to his ear, lips ghosting his tanned skin to be heard over the blaring music. 

“Of course.” he agreed with a smile, arm instantly finding your waist. He threw a look over his shoulder as he regarded two girls he had met in the line to get in. “You heard her, ladies.” 

Both girls pouted and groaned, and you giggled. You could have told them you weren’t asking for a hookup, could have said you just needed your friend to look after you and then send you home safely whenever you grew tired. Then he would be free to go home with whoever he liked. 

But you needed to feel like a priority, at least for a few hours, so you liked the way Taehyung didn’t even think twice about accepting your request and focusing his attention on you. 

“We’re going to get a drink, you coming?” Wooshik, one of Tae’s classmates and close friend, called for you.

“You’re offering?” you asked as you were led to the bar by the man stuck to your back. 

“If he isn’t, I will.” Taehyung was saying with his lips to your ear, much like you had done. 

“Aww, you don’t have to pay for me, Tae.”

“Why do you say that to him, but always make me pay?” Wooshik was looking a little offended. 

“Don’t pretend you aren’t loaded, hyung.” Tae laughed, the rumbling of his chest warming up your heart. 

Minsu and Sohee were already slipping to the dance floor; you knew the girls from passing, both art students like Tae and Wooshik, and you vaguely recollected a comment about them working at a tattoo shop in Myeongdong. Seojoon and Hyungsik were seniors in the performing arts course.

You leaned over the counter of the bar, as the only girl remaining in the small group, it was usually easier for you to catch the attention of the barman. On a good day it would annoy you and you’d refuse to be part of the disgusting men agenda, but you could already feel the effects of the Soju running out. 

“Two shots of tequila, please!” 

You ordered first, having all three boys shouting their orders before the guy could walk too far. 

“You okay, babe?” Taehyung asked you, arm still on your waist. 

If this was happening a month ago you would have melted, but right now you just missed the extra weight around you. 

“Yeah, I’m great.” you forced a smile on your red colored lips. “Why?” 

“Don’t lie to me.” Tae said as you turned around in his embrace, back resting against the bar counter as his body leaned closer to your as more patrons crowded the bar. “You only drink tequila when you want to forget or fuck it up.” 

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?” your fingertip traced the ugly colorful patterns on his shirt. It was an eyesore, but somehow he made it work. 

“I know you more than you think.” he left a kiss on your forehead. This was your friend Tae, not your ex, not your occasional hook up. “Where’s the bodyguard? Didn’t want to come?”

You shook your head, not really in the mood to talk about Namjoon. Tae pinched your cheek and gave you a tight hug, only letting go of you when the busy bartender came back with your drinks. 

The two shots of tequila turned into four, that turned into sips and chugs of whatever the other boys were drinking and offered to you. When you were positively buzzing, brain a little foggy and your legs threatened to give out, you pulled Tae by the collar and said:

“I’m gonna go dance with the girls, yeah?” 

“Don’t you wanna have some water first?” he countered, but you shook your head. “Stay in my line of sight.” 

“Okay, dad!” 

It should have been a joke. You should have laughed at it, just as he had. But it only brought a bitter taste to your mouth and a pang to your stomach. You walked away from a smiley Tae, balancing yourself on your heels and bumping into people more intoxicated than you were. 

Minsu and Sohee opened up space for you to dance closer to them and away from any dingy strangers. The dance floor was packed with sweaty bodies, the DJ was playing throwback songs all night, the kind that everybody knew the moves to; like PSY’s Gangnam Style and Super Junior’s Sorry Sorry. 

As Gee played loudly from the many speakers spread around, you moved your body to the upbeat song. You felt light and airy, thanks to the alcohol you had consumed. You thought that drinking tonight would help you forget, but all it was doing was making you miss the one person you didn’t want to think about tonight. 

The thump of the bass brought back memories from when you met Namjoon, months ago, in a setting similar to this. It was just supposed to be a one time thing; you’d be a Sugar Baby for the night, use the earned money to pay for the first month of your university’s fee and move on. 

Yet here you were, tangled up, body and soul belonging to a man you hadn’t decided if deserved it or not. As you closed your eyes and threw your head back to the song, it was Namjoon’s beautiful face and adorable dimpled smile that you saw. When you opened them back up, you searched for him in every tall man in the room. You looked at the door, drunk brain wishing to see him walking in. 

But of course he never did. 

“Hey, what’s up with you and Tae?” Minsu was asking you. You always thought she had a crush on the man. 

“We’re friends.” you told her, slightly slurred speech. “Why?”

“You’re friends like he and Jungkook are?” Sohee laughed. 

“He doesn’t have eyes for anything else when you’re around.” Minsu explained. 

You looked around, finding Taehyung still by the bar. He had a glass in his hand, but his eyes were on you. You did ask him to take care of you tonight, so he was only looking out for you. At least that’s what you thought until his eyebrow raised and he licked his lips. 

Well. Since forgetting on your own obviously wasn’t working, maybe you should try it with a little help. 

A giggle slipped past your lips as your pointer finger beaconed him over. Taehyung flipped the rest of his drink into his mouth, pulling an exaggerated face, and marched over to you in the rhythm of Rain’s Rainism. 

Tae bumped into you on purpose, making you lose your balance and hold yourself by clinging to his shoulders as he held you strongly by arms around your waist. You were laughing, but stopped short when his face went to your neck and he licked a stripe of your sweaty skin. 

Your hand tangled in his long curly locks, pulling him back so you could clash your lips against his. It was rare that you started a kiss, but tonight you needed it. Taehyung reciprocated it with fervor and a little desperation, always greedy for whatever you were willing to give him. 

image

DECEMBER 4RTH | 02:01

Namjoon couldn’t sleep. Guilt had been eating him up all night, so he had given up on trying to fall into a slumber when the clock hit midnight and he was accomplishing nothing but tossing and turning in his cold and empty mattress. 

The business dinner had been annoying, with the way Aecha forced herself into the seat next to him and kept attempting to hold his hand, to touch his thigh under the table, and being overall obnoxiously sweet in an attempt to butter him up. In the past that would have been enough to have them rolling in the sheets by the end of the night, and after they were done, she wouldn’t even wait for the morning to break his heart all over again. 

But tonight all it made him feel was disgust and anger. It was supposed to be a professional setting, one where he should be talking business with investors, telling them about the growth Cypher had the last six months and talking about future plans. 

Not to mention that, if it wasn’t for the woman, he would still know where you and him stood. You wouldn’t be upset and he wouldn’t be worried about you being out there in a club. It’s not even that he was bothered by you being out with Taehyung either, Namjoon was mature enough to understand you didn’t technically owe him anything. He had given up the exclusivity when he put his plans of confessing to you on the back burner. 

A decision he was starting to regret. 

The thing that was staining his thoughts with guilt is that he knew this could have been avoided. Namjoon could have told you about Aecha having to work for Cypher Prod., explained it wasn’t something he actually had a say in, he could have remembered to change the password to avoid her just barging in, he could have defended you better, he could have told you she would be part of the dinner tonight because taking notes was part of her job. 

Namjoon knew how this all looked, so he didn’t blame you for walking out of his studio, nor for anything you might choose to do tonight. 

He was sitting in bed, with his latest book on his lap, reading the same page over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate, when his phone dinged with your notification sound. 

You [02:03]: I hate you ;((((((

You [02:03]: You knwo I was dncing wth tae and we were kissing bc I CAN and you were hving dinner wit your gorgus ex 

You [02:04]: But I cant stop fckijg thinkng about you 1!!11!!! Why!!!!!! I jus want you 

You [02:04]: Ugh wish u were here to fck me in the bathroom 

You were clearly drunk in your texts, never one to leave any typos in. Not to mention the context of the messages. It was rollercoaster of informations, since the knowledge that you had kissed Taehyung again brought an uncomfortable clench to his heart. Yet the way you ended the shower of texts saying he was the one you actually wanted helped alleviate his jealousy. 

But the texts continued:

You [02:06]: Why cant things be easy joonie why 

You [02:06]: Ugh i wont even rember this in the mrng lol 

You [02:06]: Opsie I cnt find my friends

You [02:07]: Theres a guy loking over maybe he saw my frinds

With a worried sigh, Namjoon left his bed. He was already texting his driver, uncaring for the late hour, as he looked for sweatpants and a hoodie to wear. Picking up his wallet on the way out, he was satisfied that Mr. Choi answered almost immediately saying he’d be coming over and would arrive in five minutes. 

The man would definitely be getting a hefty Christmas bonus. 

Namjoon wouldn’t be going after you if he didn’t think you could potentially be in some kind of danger, and texting or calling you to make sure didn’t sound like the best idea either. 

Exactly five minutes later, Namjoon was slipping in the backseat of his car, telling Mr. Choi to drive to Burn Nightclub in Itaewon. 

“Forgive me for the intrusion, sir, but you don’t look dressed for a night out.” 

Namjoon chuckled, because he agreed. Gray sweatpants and a mismatched hoodie didn’t scream party-goer. 

“We’re just picking someone up.” 

“Is it your lady friend?” the nice old man looked at Namjoon through the rearview mirror, with a friendly, albeit sleepy, smile. “Miss Yn?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good.” the driver was saying as he followed the car GPS towards their destination. “I like that girl. She’s very nice.” 

“That she is, Mr. Choi.” Namjoon kept checking his phone, but you didn’t send anything else. 

He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not being at that club anymore. Or even at all, in case your plans had changed earlier in the night and you ended up going somewhere else entirely. 

“Can I offer you a piece of free advice?” the driver asked and Namjoon hummed in response. “You should keep her. She’s a nice girl. I know this isn’t my place but I’ve been driving for you for many years and I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“Even if you have to get out of bed at two am to go pick her up?” he laughed with slight amusement. 

“Miss Yn always treated me with kindness. Did you know she always has coffee and pastries for me when I’m sent to pick her up for you?” Mr. Choi told him, and Namjoon had no idea. “That other lady you almost married didn’t even look me in the eye. So I don’t mind the late drive.” 

Namjoon hummed, mind filled with thoughts of you. 

The streets were almost empty, even in the Itaewon district. Mr. Choi found a free spot to park and turned the hazard lights on to inform other drivers that he wouldn’t stay there long. Namjoon was rushing off the car and into the night club. 

He received weird looks for his attire, but pulling on the sleeve of his hoodie to look at the time while simultaneously flashing his Rolex seemed to do the trick. He was let into Burn after paying an absurdly high fee. 

The inside of the club didn’t match the outside. While the streets were cold and barren, the inside was warm and busy. Drunk people everywhere, having the time of their lives, dancing as if there was no tomorrow. His height allowed him to see above most people as he scanned the dance floor in hopes to find you there. 

Namjoon wasn’t having much luck, until a tap to his shoulder made him turn around. 

“So you did show up, huh?” Taehyung had a blonde girl under his arm, both with red bitten lips that made it obvious what they had been doing. “She’s been asking for you. Come.” 

Namjoon didn’t say anything as he followed Taehyung past the dance floor and the bar, eyes scanning the sitting area for you. He found you easily once he knew where to look, sitting between two girls, and with a jacket too big to be yours draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were sparkling and you looked so sad. 

“How’s the sweet girl doing?” Taehyung asked the girls. 

“She’s been asking for her dad?” the one with colorful hair looked confused as can be. 

Namjoon held back a laugh, knowing exactly who you had been asking for. He watched as Taehyung let go of the blonde girl to crouch down in front of you, a hand caressing your face with more gentleness than he expected. The boy was saying something to you and your face lifted, gaze lost until it found him. 

You were getting up from the couch, letting the jacket fall off your shoulders, as you walked to Namjoon. He opened his arms for you, not letting you see the twist of his nose with the heavy scent of alcohol and smoke that was stuck to your skin and clothes. 

“Are you really here?” you murmured against his chest, his ears straining to hear you. 

“Yeah. Let’s get you home.” 

“Nooooo, I don’t want to go.” you pouted, but squeezed him harder. 

“I’m not asking you, baby.” 

Namjoon hadn’t seen you drunk that many times, but the little instances that he did, he picked up a thing or two about how to deal with you. Your pouty and bratty side came out to play, one he knew how to handle. 

“Say goodbye to your friends and let’s go.” Namjoon instructed. “Mr. Choi is waiting outside.”

“In the cold?” your pretty eyes blinked with concern, a deep crease forming on your forehead. 

“He’s warm in the car.” he told you, watching you nod and wave to the people you had come with. “Where’s your coat?” 

“Didn’t bring one.” you shrugged exaggeratedly. 

It was minus three degrees outside and you were dressed in a short, sleeveless dress. Namjoon wanted to nag you for being so careless, but now was not the time. Instead, he removed his hoodie and dressed you with it, ignoring the ‘whoops’ and ‘wows’ he heard while revealing his tight cotton t-shirt. He wouldn’t mind the cold as long as you were warm. 

“Tell her to text when she’s home.” Taehyung asked. 

But Namjoon didn’t answer. You’d have more pending matters once you arrived home; like sobering up, for starters. He held you closely against his body, pulling your tumbling body out of the club and onto the streets. 

Mr. Choi had moved the car closer to the entrance of the club, so the two of you were able to slip to the back seat before either of you froze in the cold weather. 

“Good morning, Miss Yn.” Mr. Choi was saying with a smile. 

“Hi.” you waved with heavily blinking eyes. 

“Where to, sir?” 

“Bring us to the penthouse. After you drop us off you can keep the car over the weekend, and we’ll see you again on monday.” Namjoon instructed. “Take the family for a ride.” 

“There’s no need for that, sir–”

“I insist.” 

The driver thanked him with a nod and got back onto the street to drive the two of you home. As Namjoon looked you over, he noticed your tightly crossed arms and pushed out bottom lip. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m still mad at you.” you were saying with half slitted eyes. 

“Good, because I’m mad at you too.” 

You gasped and stared at him in absolute shock. High pitched voice as you said: “What are you mad at me for?!” 

“Going out without proper winter clothes? Getting lost from your friends and worrying me? Hooking up with your ex?” 

Quietly, as the car stopped at a red light, Mr. Choi turned around to pull the flimsy curtain that separated the front seats from the back of the car to give you the false impression of privacy. 

“Well, I wouldn’t need to hook up with my ex if you had been there!” 

“You know I couldn’t be there.” 

“Yeah, because you were with your ex!” 

Namjoon took a deep breath, he knew this was pointless. Your words were slurring together and you wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. He had apologies ready to offer you, but he wouldn’t waste them on deaf ears. 

The car fell into a deep silence that felt like ages, but it couldn’t have been five minutes until you spoke again. Softer this time. 

“For the record, I don’t want Tae.” 

“I don’t want Aecha either.” 

Another beat of silence passed until you turned sideways on the seat, pout heavy on your lips. 

“Then prove it.” you challenged. 

You were trying to seem so serious, so menacing. But Namjoon just thought you looked adorable. Red cheeks, sleepy eyes, wobbly bottom lip. You might just be the cutest thing he had ever seen. A little sparkle around your neck brought his eyes down, noticing the necklace he had given you in New York was still resting on your collarbone.

Even while mad at him, you never took it off.  

“How do I prove it, baby?” 

You tapped your chin, thinking hard about your options. “Fuck me right here, right now.” 

Mr. Choi started coughing from the front seat and Namjoon went absolutely red in the face. You didn’t waver, a challenging lift to your eyebrow. 

“I can’t do that right now.” Namjoon tried reasoning with you. “Let’s get home and we’ll talk about it, yeah?” 

“I knew it.” 

You turned away from him again, your side profile being illuminated by the warm yellow lights from the lamp posts outside. You were so beautiful to him, so precious. Even without knowing it, you gave him the push he needed to want to fix himself, to be a better man. Firstly, you made him want to be better for him. You were showing him how he deserved to be treated, the kind of happiness he should strive to have. 

But you also made him want to be better for you. 

Namjoon didn’t want you to be mad at him, rightfully so or not. He also couldn’t give you what you wanted right now, not with Mr. Choi in the car. But he could try something. 

He slid closer to you, pushing your hair away from your neck. You didn’t move, still ignoring him. Namjoon bent down to reach the side of your face, kissing your jaw, under your ear, moving down to your neck. His hand rested on your naked leg, fingertips dancing on the inside of your thigh. 

Your breathing grew heavy, lips parting with a pant as you melted into the seat.  

“Don’t be like this, babygirl.” he said against your warm skin, lips sucking on the spot under your ear. 

“Please–”

“Shhhh. Be quiet for daddy.” 

He was whispering, hand slipping between your legs and under your dress. You covered your red stained lips with small hands, parting your knees for him. Namjoon gently ran his fingertips over your clothed core, applying light pressure. 

"When we get home, I’ll take care of you." 

"Promise?” you whispered. 

“Did daddy ever lie to you?" 

You were shaking your head. Namjoon had never lied to you. He might have omitted a few things, but never lie.

The view outside showed the car was already driving up his street, the speed decreasing to a stop. Namjoon pressed harder over your clit just to tease you a little more before removing his hand completely.

"Ern… Sir, Miss.” Mr. Choi called, a little chocked up. “You’re home.”

“Thanks. Have a good weekend, okay? Get home safe." 

Namjoon opened your door from the inside, tapping on your legs for you to get out of the car and followed after you. You were still a little wobbly walking up the steps to the lobby, but Namjoon held you steady. 

The moment the doors to the elevators were closing, you were all over him. Uncaring for the cameras you started kissing his neck and grabbing for his shirt before he could even press the button to the penthouse. 

He laughed while holding your hands to your back, halting your attack.

"You promised!” the little horny drunk that you were protested.

“Yes I did, but we’re not home yet, are we?" 

You seemed to think hard about that, looking around yourself and finally calming down. 

When Namjoon unlocked the door with his thumbprint, you were already trying to climb him like a tree again. He had to laugh at your desperation and clumsiness, almost tripping over an excited Monie and eyes filling with tears when you thought you might have hurt him. 

Namjoon started leading you to his bedroom, returning your kisses as best as he could while trying to walk you into the bathroom. He was on his knees as soon as the door closed behind you, kissing the tops of your thighs as he undid the clasps of your shoes from your ankles. 

You groaned in relief as your aching feet rested flat on the cold floor, busying yourself with removing his hoodie and letting your purse fall to the floor with a careless thump. 

Namjoon was kissing your neck as his able hands looked for the zipper on your back to remove your dress. 

Your panties and strapless bra went right after. 

He had you so focused on his hands and kisses that you didn’t notice he was walking you backwards into the shower. Nor did you realize Namjoon flipped on the knob to turn the water on, pulling away at the last second to avoid getting hit while he still had his clothes on. 

You squealed with the cold temperature of the water  hitting your body. As you tried to escape and flee the shower stall, Namjoon held the glass door in place.

"Joon!” you whined your displeasure. “You promised!”

“I promised I would take care of you, and I am!” he held back a laugh. “I’m not fucking you until you’re sober, baby.”

“You’re no fun, drunk sex is great.” you crossed your arms and Namjoon had to look away from the way your tits were pressed together. 

And he had to agree, drunk sex was a lot of fun. But not when you still had issues to talk through. 

“Just have a cold shower and come meet me in the kitchen when you feel a little more sober.” 

“Have I told you I hate you?” you asked with yet another pretty pout. 

“At least twice now.”

Namjoon gave you a pointed look when he let go of the shower door, holding back a fond smile from how annoyed you looked. You showed him your tongue like a child and he laughed. 

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DECEMBER 4RTH | 03:59

Raiding Namjoon’s closet for a shirt sounded like a better idea than going into your room in the penthouse to find something to wear. You didn’t feel completely like yourself yet, but your head was in the right place. Enough for you to be extremely embarrassed about your earlier behavior. 

As you walked into the kitchen, per Namjoon’s request, you weren’t sure what you were going to find. He had every right to be mad at you, he had left the comfort of his home in the middle of the night to pick up a brat from a club across town because you missed him but was too hard headed to admit it. Not to mention everything else. 

But what greeted you was a dimpled smile and a glass of water. 

“Feeling better?” 

“I’ll tell you in the morning.” you laughed without any real humor, taking long sips of the first drink you had tonight that didn’t burn on the way down. “What’s that?” 

“Toast and cheese.” 

Namjoon pushed the plate towards you as you sat down on a stall by the kitchen island. 

“You cooked for me.” your smile was sincere and bright, as his cheeks turned pink. “Like, you actually cooked.”

“That is hardly a Michelin.” 

“It’s better, because you made it.” 

You looked down as you said it, picking up the toast and taking a small bite to the corner. You did feel a little hungry, and this would definitely help with your inescapable hangover tomorrow. But chucking it in at once would only make you sick. And you were really good at holding your liquor, but today wasn’t the night you wanted to test that. 

Namjoon crossed the island to come closer to you. He pulled your wet hair back so it wouldn’t fall on your plate and kissed the crown of your head before sitting down next to you. You were eating slowly as he watched you intently. His finger slipped under the chain around your neck to lift it from the inside of your shirt –his shirt–, so now the diamond heart would be on show. 

“We should talk.” at least he had the decency to wait for you to swallow your last bite. 

After washing down the food with the rest of the water you said, in a small voice: “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I’m the one who needs to apologize.” Namjoon’s forehead creased.

“You can, just let me say something first?” you turned around on the bench so you could look at him as you spoke. “It’s not fair that I get upset with you about something, and then go ahead and do the exact thing.” you sighed, playing with your fingers on your lap. “I know we’re not together, this is just an arrangement. You have every right to

Horny Morning | Kim Namjoon

♔Pairing: Husband! Namjoon x fem reader

♔Word count: 1.1 k

♔Genre:slice of life, smut

♔Summary: Hubby wants a special treat before going to work.

Your eyes opened early in the morning of a very typical Tuesday, sun rays filtering through the curtains, birds singing outside the window, the comforting repetitive sound of the air conditioner, mundane and routinary. As always you woke up first, your husband sleeping figure was just besides you, he liked to sleep on his stomach, and with his arm above you, he had to have any sort of contact with you when he sleeps, he needed to feel you besides him, so as the lucky girl you were, you got to see him as the first thing in the morning.

You work at home and Namjoon work as researcher in a lab, so he got up to work Monday to Friday, you shape your routine around his as the team you were, so you got up early to prepare coffee and breakfast so he can get ready for work, then you walk the dogs, take a shower and start with your own work and so on and so forth.

You slide Namjoon’s arm from your body, he seemed so tired, an important paper was about to be published and he and his team were working extra hours the entire weekend and yesterday, you didn’t mind, you like how passionate Namjoon was about his career and you support him 100%, he also made good money, and you knew this paper would end up paying for your Bali holiday this summer, sacrifices needed to be made. You knew your husband though, poor Joonie probably felt guilty no giving you much attention these days, he can recover the time lost when you two were at the beautiful beaches of Indonesia.

You got off the bed and went to the bathroom to wash up, when you open the door your husband was calling for you in bed, his groggy grin and half open eyes that gave you that look. The lustful look that meant he wanted you, so early but already eager for your touch.

“Morning” he said with raspy voice, you gave him a smile.

“Morning, Baby” you responded getting on the bed, he put you immediately on his lap with his strong arms, you felt his erection on your core sending a familiar twist to your lower stomach, your pussy already clenching for his dick.

“I want you” he simply said “I’d been turning crazy for the past days, only thing in my mind was my hot wife” he confessed getting rid of the hoodie, leaving his chest exposed, you licked your lips.

“Same babe, I know you’d been busy, so when I needed you I had to conform with my trustworthy Charlie” that’s the name you both gave to your vibrator, you had it before meeting Namjoon and now you two used it when you wanted some spice in the bedroom, or when Namjoon was very busy though you did not tell him, for some reason he did not like it that much when he wasn’t the one to use it on you.

“Oh no sweetheart, I’ve been that neglectful?” he said frowning “I need to take care of you asap” he said grabbing your ass under your  satin nightgown, his hands squishing your flesh made you moan.

“Not neglectful, I’m just needy all the time” you took your panties of leaving nightgown on.

“And I love that about you” he took his sweatpants and underwear off. “It’s my duty to satisfy you, not that pesky toy, when you need me you call me, ok my love?” his cock was out but half erected, you could not resist to take it and give it some strokes, Namjoon moaned in a low tone.

“Yes, understood…fuck-“ you moaned when you felt his finger behind you introduced in your pussy “like that” he started to stimulate your clit.

“You are so beautiful” he said to you heavy breathing “Kiss me” he begged, you took his face with one hand and lean to kiss him, his hot tongue sliding to your mouth, you moaned again, you felt his cock twitching in your thigh, that’s what you love about Namjoon, he was whipped for your touch and your body, you always felt his excitement every single time, he could never get enough of you.

He took his finger out, you were wet already, before he fingered you, you also missed his touch, you were starved for him.

“I want your cock inside me, right now”  you pleaded.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he cursed “You are perfect for me, you know that?” you squirmed at the clit stimulation “You wanna ride me today, huh?” you nodded and whined when he took his dick and placed it on your entrance, stimulating you as well as teasing you.

“Daddy please” you begged, you saw his smile while he guided you hips until were fully seated in his cock, he moaned at the sensation of your walls wrapping around his swollen dick.

“I’m sensible today, sweetheart” he said already worked up, you started moving, rolling your hips like a maniac, you wanted to feel every inch as you jump like bunny in heat, he could not repress the sound that his mouth made, the sounds of pleasure.

“Fuck daddy, you cock feels so good” you fasten your pace.

“Is it baby?” he replied grabbing your hips “I’m gonna cream all over your cunt and fill you up, you like that?”

“Fuck yes” you were feeling your orgasm arriving, and for the way Namjoon’s body was tensing, you knew he was close too. ”I’m gonna cum” you said to him.

“Let’s cum together, princess” he guided your hips at a more desperate pace until you finally had an orgasm, his hot seed filled your cunt and waves of pleasure travelled to your body, pure bliss on your faces.

You both laid there, you still on top of Namjoon for a few minutes, until you got off of him gaining a little protest.

“You have to go to work, and I’m starving” you said to him “But we can take a shower together”

“Deal”

After a quick shower, he got ready putting on his suit, your husband without doubt was hottie, you still drool over his athletic tall physique, and him in a suit was the next best thing only topped by him naked. You cooked the breakfast and you both eat talking about things you enjoy, everything was on a very good mood, sadly he had to go.

“Have a great day” you peck his lips, but he deepens the kiss and you gladly responded.

“I love you so much” he said giving you a small peck at the end.

“Love you too” but before he left he got near your ear and whispered:

 “Daddy’s is gonna take care of you all night afterwork, you gotta be patient, no toys, no touching otherwise you would punish, understood?”

Gosh why he was so sexy? You were so lucky.

“Can’t wait for tonight”

The end.

Namjoon and you have been broken up for months and you thought that you were healing and moving on from a relationship that wasn’t meant to be. But then you hear that Namjoon is seeing someone else and is going public about it and all the old wounds come back.

Warning this does not have a happy ending.

“The big topic of discussion today is leader and rapper Kim Namjoon from BTS,” the radio announcer’s voice blares through the speakers of your car. Your friend sitting in the passenger seat beside you leans forward to change the station. But you stop her.

“It’s fine. We’ve been broken up for months now. I can handle hearing about him and his members going on tour or having his own album being released.” Watching you closely they lower their hand as the radio announcer continues to go on about all the things that Namjoon and the rest of his members are up to.

“But with all this exciting news the real excitement is that Namjoon is the first member to come out publicly about his relationship. Namjoon and his girlfriend were seen in America together where he proudly announced that he was dating.” Your hands tighten on the steering wheel, your heart starts to race, and you feel the familiar sting of tears forming.

You try to calm yourself down and tell yourself that it’s fine that it doesn’t matter but they keep talking about him and her. This woman who is not you. They keep talking about how happy Namjoon looked to have her on his arm and what a beautiful couple they make, and how they are wishing the best for the two of them. Thankfully your friend knows that while you may be ready to hear talk about him this is something that you are not ready to hear about. They change the station and start to ask you how you are but you quickly cut them off.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” You rush out. Right now you need to just focus on keeping it together and not losing it while you’re driving. You just need to make it to your apartment and then you can lose it.

“Okay,” she hedges, “but you know that you’re better off without him. He never treated you the way you deserved.”

“I know.” You croak out. Deep down you do know that you deserved better than what Namjoon gave you but you love and it hurts that he doesn’t love you back. 

You’re not sure how you manage to make it to your parking garage and to your apartment without bursting into tears. Then somehow you manage to convince your friend that you are fine and that you will not think about him at all. That you are fine, good, great even because you are moving on just like he clearly has. It’s all a lie, you are not okay at all. As soon as you’re alone you’re on social media looking up everything you can about them. 

There isn’t a lot out there about the two of them but there’s enough. Enough to learn that they have known each other for years. That the two of you have admitted that there was almost something between you. And it crushes you to read that because all you had ever wanted was for him to love you but all he wanted was her. He didn’t care about your heart or even wanted it. He has always wanted her and her heart. Slamming your laptop close you grab your purse and get into your car. 

It’s silly, maybe even a little crazy what you are doing but you need answers and you need them from Namjoon. You need to know why he was so fast to let the two of you go for her. What makes her so special compared to you. Because you had given him everything, every part of you. You had spent most of your relationship trying to make everything between the two of you work and to get him to just love you back. But it always felt like he was holding back from you and you need to know if it was because of her. 

Parking outside his building you continue to ride this wave of courage that has suddenly over taken your body and ride it all the way up to his apartment and ring his doorbell over and over. He might not even be home you think as no one comes to answer the door. He’s probably working or might not even be in the country. Turning to leave the elevator doors open and out walks Namjoon. He’s casually dressed in sweatpants, a tight white t-shirt, and baseball cap. In his one hand are a bouquet of flowers.  His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you.

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He stands outside the elevator like he’s unsure if he wants to approach you or dive quickly back into the elevator. 

“I…I don’t know the reason was stupid really. I should be going.” You rush past him and tap the call button for the elevator. 

“Y/n come on you clearly came here for something.” You can feel the heat of his body next to you. Looking up at him he gives you a gentle smile and it’s enough to make his dimple appear and it makes your heart squeeze. 

“Do you love her,” the words pour out of your mouth and you don’t regret them because the pain you are feeling needs to end.

Namjoons shoulder slump, he takes a step back from you, and looks like he’s about to give you an excuse but you don’t want excuses. You want answers. You want to know why you weren’t enough and what makes her so different from you. 

“Just answer the question. I deserve to know. After everything that has happened between the two of us the least you can do is be honest with me now!”  Raising your voice this might be the first time that you have ever really stood up to him and demanded answers.

“Yes, I love her,” He confirms, a part of you was hoping that he didn’t or was unsure about his feelings. Tears streaming down your face you quickly wipe them away, “I think that she might be the one.”

A choked laugh escapes your lips and if you weren’t being ripped apart all over again you would have tried to stop it but, why bother because it’s obvious with the way he’s talking about her and the look on his face that she’s the one. He has never looked at you the way he looks now. It hurts to see it because you would have done just about anything to have him look like that when talking about you. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Namjoon whispers and you know that he’s being honest but that doesn’t take any of the hurt out of it.

“I was never going to be enough was I? It was always her! God I was so stupid,” you cry trying to keep it together. Namjoon takes a step towards you. Holding up your hand to stop him and lock eyes with him again. 

“You don’t get to comfort me. Not in this situation. I gave up so much for you Namjoon and I deserved to be loved but you wouldn’t.” It comes out cold and Namjoon flinches at the sound of your voice.

“That’s not fair. It wasn’t like you made our relationship easy!” Protest Namjoon. Rolling your eyes you hit the call button again. 

“Seriously?” You glare at Namjoon, “All I wanted was for you to try Namjoon. To put in even half of what I was putting into the relationship but you wouldn’t do that. All you did was give me excuses.” You tell him. The elevator pings behind you. Getting in you place your hand over the door when Namjoon calls out to you.  

“I tried Y/n I really did try to love you.” He tells you.

“Did you? Because all you did was leave me in the dust and get her flowers.” WIth that last statement you let the doors close and feel crack in your heart completely break.

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